by Megan Hart
Reb Ephraim chuckled. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a thickly folded sheet of paper. With practiced motions he unfolded about one third of it, laying it out on the desk for Tobin to see.
“To them,” he said with another laugh, pointing, “this is California.”
Tobin looked at the paper and the professionally drawn map on it. It looked like his maps, but where his Atlas of The United States showed an entire continent, the Reb’s paper showed only what Tobin recognized as New York City. The areas all around were marked, but not in detail, and where Colorado began on Tobin’s map, the Reb’s showed only the edge of land, the beginning of the sea.
“You’ve erased nearly an entire country!”
The Reb shrugged, refolding the map. “And what difference does that make? There might as well be nothing there, Tobin. If there are settlements, we’ll never meet them. Never have contact with them. All of that is lost to us, so why offer it to people who would be better off just staying here, with the Tribe?”
“They should be able to make that choice,” Tobin said stubbornly. “It should be up to them.”
“Really,” said Reb Ephraim somewhat condescendingly. “Why would anyone want to leave a comfortable life here and risk their lives to maybe, only maybe, find something else? Because despite our hardships, Tobin, we do have a comfortable life here. It’s not a luxurious life, not like it was in the days when this city was overflowing with people. No. But we have food and shelter and each other. Why would anyone want to leave?”
“I want to leave.”
Reb Ephraim sighed as though he were talking to a very tiresome child. “I don’t understand. I explained to you that all the things you claimed you wanted to find in California, you could find here.”
Tobin frowned. “No. Not exactly.”
“You said you wanted to have children,” Reb Ephraim said finally. “Why do you think I sent you Elanna?”
At the sound of her name, Tobin’s stomach flip-flopped. She was so beautiful, that girl, the most beautiful he’d ever dreamed of. And he’d turned her away.
Tobin thought of all the books he’d read. Mother. Father. Husband. Wife. Son. Daughter. Family. Those were words he knew. He’d had Old Ma and Old Pa to learn from, and books, and that was all. Descriptions of how families were long ago, and maybe they had nothing to do with the way things were now.
“I’m sorry,” Tobin said finally.
He thought of Elanna again, her smooth perfect features and smoky blue eyes. The curls, the same color as an ocean sunset, tumbling over her shoulders. How she had smelled like nothing he’d ever smelled before, but he knew all the same it was the scent of a woman. How he’d ached for her to touch him as he’d read of and dreamed about. He thought about her making love to him only because it was her job, and he shuddered. Impossible. He couldn’t do it.
Reb Ephraim seemed barely appeased. “We honored you by giving you an appointment with Elanna.”
Tobin thought of the stricken look on Elanna’s face as she’d fled the room. He’d insulted and embarrassed her. “I told her to leave. I didn’t sleep with her.”
Reb Ephraim shook his head slowly. “Why not?
“When I said I wanted to find a woman, I meant one just for me,” Tobin said. Only after he spoke did he realize how foolish and selfish that sounded.
“A wife,” Reb Ephraim said.
“Well, yeah.”
The Reb tapped his fingers together. “I can’t give you that. Love can’t be given by someone else. If you find love with one of our women and she agrees to stand beneath the chuppah as your bride, then we’ll all rejoice. But I can’t make that happen. I can, however, almost guarantee that you can father a child. And with a child, almost any of the women here would be eager to wed you.”
It still didn’t sound like what Tobin had dreamed about back in Eastport, but he didn’t have time to protest. Reb Ephraim got up and went around the desk past Tobin, jerking open the door to the hall. “Yavin!”
A small boy, about seven years old, appeared as if by magic. “Yes, Reb Ephraim?”
“Go and find Elanna. Bring her to me immediately.”
The boy nodded and then grinned, showing an endearingly gap-toothed smile. He held out a hand for the candy Reb Ephraim was already pulling from his pocket before tearing off down the hall. The clatter of his shoes against the concrete floor was very loud.
“Don’t,” Tobin said as the Reb passed by him to sit back at the desk. “Don’t embarrass her.”
“More than you’ve embarrassed her already, you mean?” Reb Ephraim said gruffly. He looked around as though he wanted something to occupy his hands, but found nothing. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out another candy. He offered one to Tobin.
It was sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted, and more sour, fruitier, tangier, all at once. It puckered his mouth and blasted his tongue with sensation. His eyes watered.
Reb Ephraim popped one into his own mouth. “Starburst. Last month the gatherers found an entire case in the back bedroom closet of a twelfth-floor apartment in Queens. One of them was nearly killed when his rappelling rope broke. Is it worth it, Tobin?”
Tobin swallowed the candy square. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Is it worth the lives of our people to have something like this?” the Reb asked, leaning forward. “Is it worth that risk, when if the place you told us of exists, we can supply ourselves with better, more worthy items at half the danger?”
“I don’t know.”
“What I’m asking you, Tobin, is if you’d consider becoming a gatherer.”
Tobin eyed the other man, saying nothing for a long moment. “Why me?”
“You’re fit. You’re young. And you seem to have a knack for finding things. You’re...bold, Tobin. Bolder than we are. And if we’re going to grow, survive, continue, we need fresh and bold young men to join us. And we need you to lead us to the warehouse. You know where it is.”
“I said I’d draw a map --”
The Reb looked down at the map on his desk, then back at Tobin. “You would have us trust a map?”
The man had a point. Tobin’s maps were accurate, so far as he could tell. But they were outdated.
Tobin looked around the Reb’s office. Just a few weeks ago he’d have given anything just to find a community as big as this one, as well-established. A chance to find friends, make a family. Work at something important.
“I don’t think so,” Tobin said.
“I’ll change your mind,”
Reb Ephraim replied.
-14-
“Ah, Elanna,” Reb Ephraim said, and sent the child out of the room with two sweets for his troubles.
“You wanted to see me?”
Elanna looked at the young man who’d refused her so rudely. Did she imagine that his face was nearly as red as her own? She met his eyes, wanting to challenge him. Didn’t he know what he’d passed up?
But of course he did, she thought, only half-hearing the Reb as he scolded Tobin for not keeping the appointment. She could see the way he looked at her; it was a look she’d seen dozens of times before. So why had he sent her away?
The Reb was saying something to her now, but Elanna hadn’t been paying attention. “I’m sorry?”
The Reb sighed. “I told you to take Tobin and show him around. You are to be his constant companion. You’re excused from making other appointments, and cancel the ones you’ve made for the next few days.”
“But why?” Elanna asked, stunned. She’d never been ordered to stop keeping appointments, unless she was carrying or nursing. Never. Others had been restricted for one reason or another, but never her. Not even when she’d miscarried for the third time in as many months!
“Because,” Reb Ephraim said, “That is how I want it.”
“For how long?”
“Until he,” the Reb said, pointing to Tobin, “agrees to keep an appointment with you.”
“Wha
t?” Tobin yelled. “Why?”
Faintness overcame her. Elanna sunk into the chair next to Tobin’s, intensely aware of the warmth of his skin as her leg brushed his. Equally aware of the way he jerked away from her as though she smelled bad.
“Because we want you to be happy here,” Reb Ephraim said to Tobin patiently. “Because you said you wanted children, and chances are excellent, if you have no problems, that Elanna can give them to you. Because you seem to have an aversion to sharing your woman with other men. Because we need what you can give us, Tobin, and it’s worth it to us to give you something you want in return.”
The older man turned to Elanna. “You’re not carrying now, are you?”
Still stunned by his order, Elanna shook her head, though of course it was a lie. “I…I don’t think so. I won’t know for sure for another week…”
“Good. Then you’ll only be with Tobin until you catch.”
Numb, Elanna nodded her assent. It was unheard of to restrict a hopemother to one man just to guarantee a child by him. Was she being punished or privileged?
“No.” Tobin stood. His entire body shook. She’d thought he looked timid before, when the gatherers brought him in, but not now. He looked as though he could strike out at any minute. “You can’t use her to buy me.”
The Reb looked at Elanna kindly. “You don’t know even realize the price she’s worth.”
They were talking about her like she was something the Gatherers had found, not like she was a person. And a hopemother, the best among them! But Elanna dared not say anything. She didn’t know why the Reb was doing what he was, but she knew she had no way of fighting it. If the Reb said it was going to be, it was so.
“You’re a bastard,” Tobin said through gritted teeth.
No one talked to Reb Ephraim like that. Elanna looked at the man who kept the Tribe together, not certain what to expect. She’d never seen him show rage, but she’d seen the results of what had happened when people made him angry.
“I don’t understand your anger. We offer everything you could want, and ask for so little in return. Why would you refuse? If you do what we want, in the end we’ll all be happy.”
What about me? Elanna thought, burning inside. Will I be happy? She looked at Tobin, the man who’d rejected her. And she had to spend time with him? Beyond just having sex with him, she had to be his…his companion?
“You don’t mind, do you Elanna?” Reb Ephraim asked her suddenly.
Tobin turned to gaze at her, his eyes searching hers as though he were trying to read her thoughts. “No, of course not,” Elanna lied. “It’s an honor, Reb.”
To her surprise, Tobin reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings, Elanna. I didn’t understand.”
She felt his fingers warm around hers, felt them squeeze. It felt good. Like a friend.
“It’s all right,” she said.
“I would be happy for you to teach me about the Tribe,” Tobin continued. He didn’t let go of her hand until she tugged it gently away. His eyes didn’t leave hers. “And as for the other…”
“Yes?” She didn’t want to sound eager, damn it! Because she wasn’t.
He shrugged, finally looking away. “I just want you to know that I don’t…I can’t…”
He looked helplessly at Reb Ephraim. “I can’t. Not like that.”
Elanna still didn’t understand, but she remembered his reaction the last time she’d tried to make him feel more comfortable about it. She didn’t want to go through that again, especially not with a witness. She looked to the Reb for guidance.
“Tobin…isn’t used to our ways,” Reb Ephraim said. That was an understatement if she’d ever heard one. “He’s uncomfortable with the idea that you’ve been with other men.”
She still didn’t understand. “Oh.”
Tobin met her eyes again. “I’ll help you, Reb Ephraim, but not so that I can…be with Elanna.”
“I don’t care if you do it,” Reb Ephraim said. “Only that you understand that you can.” To someone who didn’t know him, the relief in his voice was well-hidden. But Elanna heard it, and she understood it.
“Come on, Tobin,” she said. “I’ll give you a tour.”
When she passed Yavin standing outside Reb Ephraim’s door, she bent to hug and kiss him. The little boy returned her affection but quickly wriggled away to continue playing with the small wooden top he spun on the concrete floor. Elanna stole another quick kiss, grateful that Yavin, unlike Boaz, was still young enough for kisses.
As they were walking away, Tobin spoke. “He’s yours, isn’t he?”
“If you mean did I birth him,” Elanna said, “Yes. But he’s not mine. His parents are Nedira and Doran.”
“He looks like you.”
“You think so? I always thought he looked like his father.”
“You mean you know who his father is?”
She glanced at him as they walked, taken aback by the question. “Well…of course I know who fathered him.”
“I just thought…” Tobin paused, clearly struggling with what he wanted to say. “I mean, if you keep so many appointments, how do you know?”
Elanna stopped, glad they were in an unfrequented part of the complex. She didn’t feel like running into anyone right now. “I keep records.”
“Look, I know about the birds and the bees. If you’ve…been with…a number of men in one…cycle…how do you know for sure which one…?”
It was almost funny watching him struggle. The blush looked good on him. She thought about the squeeze of his fingers against hers and felt more kindly to him.
“We don’t know until the baby is born,” Elanna said, remembering how he’d lived.
He hadn’t known about the Geneto-Tester or the CDM, two things she knew had once been widely available to even average people, at least in the city. Maybe in the country people hadn’t needed machines to test for disease, and so he’d never heard of them. It would stand to reason then that he’d never heard of the Paternitester, either.
“We have a machine that takes a blood sample from the baby and can match it with the DNA of the father. Everyone’s DNA is on record here. It’s easy to keep track.”
Tobin sighed. “Sometimes I think I never should have left Eastport.”
Elanna started walking again, taking him toward the social hall. “Are we really so bad?”
He laughed, surprising her. It was a nice laugh, and she found herself returning it. “I don’t know, Elanna. I don’t have much to compare you to.”
They’d entered a busier corridor. Elanna ignored the curious looks, noticing that Tobin seemed ultra-aware of them. She smiled and nodded at a few people but kept the pace steady, not stopping to invite talk.
“Rumor is that you only had seven people in your town.”
“Five,” Tobin corrected.
They pushed through a set of swinging doors and down another hall. She walked without thinking, realizing too late that it must be a maze to him. She’d have to take more time to show him how to get around.
“Five,” she repeated. “I can’t imagine it.”
“Believe me,” Tobin said with a rueful chuckle. “I couldn’t imagine two thousand, either.”
She stopped in front of the doors that opened onto the social hall. “Why did you come here?”
He took her hand again, gave it another squeeze that shot warmth down to her toes. She wanted to pull away, if only because the touch made her feel closer to him than she wanted to. She couldn’t without effort, so she just let him hold it.
“I came here,” Tobin said with a small smile that made her feel more sad than anything else, “because I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”
“I’ve never been really alone,” Elanna said without thinking. “I think I would like it.”
“You are so beautiful,” Tobin said and dropped her hand.
Supremely conscious that at least half a dozen other people were close enough to hear him, El
anna unsuccessfully fought a blush. “I can’t be that beautiful. You wouldn’t even keep your appointment with me.”
“I think you have a lot of men who’ll do that,” Tobin said. “How many of them would like to be your friend?”
“Not enough,” Elanna said.
“I’d like to be.”
“I’d like that,”
she replied, and took him into the social hall.
-15-
