California: A Novel

Cal didn’t reply.

 

“You’re wrong. It has nothing to do with her period, or her womanhood, or some shit like that. It’s time she doesn’t get. If Frida doesn’t keep track of time passing, then it can’t pass. Then nothing changes.”

 

“Well, she keeps track now.”

 

A gust of wind picked up, and from miles away, a scrub jay cried out. The platform creaked beneath them, and Cal imagined the whole thing toppling to the ground. No one said anything. The tree swayed.

 

Peter stood, maybe to break the mood. He leaned against the railing. “Let’s stay on topic, guys. Cal, has Frida been exhibiting any symptoms?”

 

Micah laughed again. “‘Exhibiting.’ Nice one, doctor.”

 

Peter shot Cal a look that meant Don’t mind him, he’s just showing off. Cal couldn’t help but feel relieved; here was an ally.

 

“Is she nauseated?” Peter asked. “Tired?”

 

Cal shook his head. “Not that I know of. But it could be too early.”

 

“There you have it,” Micah said. “There’s nothing definitive.”

 

“But—”

 

Peter held up a hand. “You know he’s right, Cal. And if he is, then things are a lot less complicated.”

 

“I realize her pregnancy is a complication for you,” Cal said. “But not for me.”

 

“We both know that’s not true,” Micah said. “Frida wants to stay, and I think you do, too, if you’d just allow yourself to admit it.” He’d moved to a kneeling position and was fiddling with a nail in one of the wood planks. He would not look at Cal. “Tell you what. Let’s keep this supposed pregnancy quiet.”

 

Peter was nodding.

 

“What about the Vote? It’s supposed to happen next week.”

 

“Since nothing is conclusive,” Micah said, “we want to keep it out of the decision.”

 

“But what happens if it is conclusive? What if she’s pregnant?”

 

Peter said nothing.

 

Micah continued to fiddle with the nail, his fingers poised clawlike, and he bit his lower lip in concentration.

 

“Micah? I asked you a question.”

 

He looked up. “There are options.”

 

“What does that mean? Do you guys have an abortion clinic set up here? Or do you send women to a Community to take care of it?”

 

Peter sighed. “Most Communities don’t allow abortions. Didn’t you know that? Those fucking Christians.”

 

“So what if Frida’s pregnant? What then? Will you guys just bring out the wire hangers?”

 

“Stop it,” Peter said. “You’re being paranoid, once again.”

 

“Options is a generic term,” Micah said. “Your response is a bit of a Rorschach test, no?”

 

“Fuck off, Micah. Why don’t you just tell me the whole story? Why aren’t kids allowed here? Sailor told me the party line about containment. But that doesn’t really explain it.”

 

“It doesn’t?” Micah said. “It seems perfectly logical to me.”

 

“It’s a long story,” Peter said.

 

“So tell it. Where else do I have to be?”

 

“The Land has to stay contained, Cal,” Micah said, “so that word of this outpost doesn’t grow. I’m supposed to be dead, remember?”

 

“Forget about that,” Peter said. “Have you ever thought about how hard it would be to raise a kid out here?”

 

Cal heard something sorrowful in Peter’s voice, and he thought of Jane and Garrett. Burying them. He stood, and his knees cracked. It sounded like a branch breaking.

 

“Listen, Cal,” Peter said. “This is in your best interest. We want you to work with us. And if Frida is pregnant, then we’ll discuss it when the time comes. I’m just not convinced she is.”

 

“But why risk it?”

 

“Because,” Micah said. “There are options.”

 

“We want the baby.”

 

No one said anything. Why did Cal feel like Micah didn’t believe him?

 

“I still don’t get why you want me and Frida here. It seems like all we’re doing is causing you all a lot of trouble.”

 

Peter smiled at Micah. “That’s what I kept asking.”

 

“‘Kept’? Why did you stop?”

 

Peter nodded at Micah.

 

“My sister,” Micah said. “She’s here.”

 

“So you’re human after all,” Cal said. “Is that it?”

 

Peter actually laughed. It was such a clear, pure thing. Cal could see the man respected him. “This is why we need you in our morning meetings! To put Mikey in his place.”

 

Micah practically growled. “I realize you and Frida are a package deal, whether I like it or not. If you’re here, we might as well use that noggin of yours. Our garden isn’t doing well— the irrigation system is clogged. Go make yourself useful.”

 

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