by K. A. Gandy
“Hold the phone,” Leigh interjects, “You were married to the guy for three years and they just . . . ended it, just like that?”
Faith nods, “Yes, that’s how it works. We were deemed ‘incompatible’ and put back into the pool to try again.”
Leigh’s mouth is agape. Elena takes over, “But, what about Bill? Do you miss him? Did you love him? Was he good in bed at least?” Beth-Ann laughs and then covers her mouth, and Leigh smacks Elena on the arm.
“Elena, you can’t just go around asking people if their ex-husbands were good in bed! That is private information!” Leigh splutters.
With a chuckle, Faith gracefully answers, “Bill was a very nice man, but there were no fireworks between us. We parted as friends, and he chose to leave the program after our separation.”
It’s Nell’s turn to ask, “Wait, but you said you were headed down from Winnipeg. How did you end up all the way up north when you were in New Texas?”
“Yes, I started in New Texas. But other than Bill, there were no matches in the tri-state above sixty-five percent. Bill had been a seventy percent match, so the medical team assumed I’d fail with a lower match, too.”
“Well isn’t that just peachy of them,” Jenna mutters under her breath.
Faith shrugs, “Well, to be fair, they were probably right. So, I was put into the eligibility pool again, and the highest match they found for me was in Winnipeg. They sent me up to meet him, and we were married later that month.”
Elena interrupts again, sounding nervous this time, “Wait, you only got one match again? And they made you move to Winnipeg for him?”
“Yes, he owned a ski outfitter shop in the tri-state, so his location was fixed.”
“Is that what that means? I saw that in the Bachelor Book, but I didn’t know what it meant. So they can just refuse to move?” I ask even though I’m pretty sure I know the answer.
“Yes, since the men have the ability to opt out, they’re given more flexibility. If they have a legitimate reason to stay in their home tri-state, such as an ill relative or a local business, you’ll have to go with them when the honeymoon is over.”
Everyone is quiet for a heartbeat, as that sinks in.
Beth-Ann breaks the silence this time, “Well, how was your second match? Was he nice like Bill?”
“Well . . . I guess he could be when it suited him. But he was not pleased to be saddled with me, knowing I’d already failed the program once. Also, I think I was older than he expected when he signed up, but once you’re matched, you have to see out the marriage term. Let’s just say we were both happy to be separated once our time was up,” she admits.
Elena looks troubled, “So even with two matches, you still haven’t been able to get pregnant? I thought it was pretty much guaranteed with all of the testing and, I mean, isn’t that the whole point of us being in this program?”
Jenna butts in angrily, “And what, you’re just going to keep getting shuffled all over the NAA from man to man, until it works? IF it works? That’s messed up, you should get to live your own life. How long has it been since you’ve seen your family?”
Faith casts her eyes downward, looking distraught, “I did get to go home last year.” Her voice is quiet, subdued, “My father was killed in a work accident, and my husband let me go back to New Texas for the funeral.” Gasps of sadness and disbelief sound from all over the room.
“God, Faith! I’m so sorry!” I say as I grab her hand, and squeeze it tightly. “He didn’t even come down with you?” Surely you can’t be married to someone and be that indifferent.
“No,” she shakes her head, “It was the busy season for his business. He bought me a train ticket and I went on my own. It was probably for the best; my extended family wouldn’t have liked him, regardless. That would have just added more stress.”
For some reason that shakes me more than anything else she’s said. I have spent my whole life admiring my parents, who had this soul-deep affection for each other. And here is Faith, being passed from man to man like a possession, and that man couldn’t be bothered to attend her father’s funeral with her? It sends a chill down my spine. This is unacceptable, and my heart hurts for her.
Nell is the one who speaks up next, sounding more calm than I think any of us feel right now, “Well, it sounds like it’s a blessing that husband number two is in the past. I can’t imagine you saddled with anyone that cold for the rest of your life.” She lifts her chin, and looks Faith right in the eye, “Sometimes life dumps you in a pile of crap, but it doesn’t mean you can’t claw your way out of it.” With that, she gets up and walks towards the entrance to the house. It takes me a minute, but I realize it’s 7:05. We’re late for dinner.
The Riot Act
I wake with a start, rubbing the blurriness from my eyes and looking around my bright room with confusion, wondering where the wind chime sound drifting through my room is coming from. My attention is drawn to the mini-tablet plugged in next to my bed. Yep, sure enough. There is an alarm, and a notification. I click on the icon, and an itinerary pops up. Breakfast is served in half an hour, and I’ve been assigned to a class schedule. What could they possibly be sending me to class for? Baby-making 101? How to be docile? Ugh.
Twenty-seven minutes later, I emerge from my room with my hair in a braid, and my signature jeans ensemble. I am not a morning person, so there better be some caffeine at this breakfast or somebody will be on the receiving end of a serious grouch-fest. I meet Faith in the hallway as she’s leaving her room.
“Want to walk to breakfast with me?” I ask.
“Sure, thank you for offering,” she responds with a small smile.
“Of course! We may as well enjoy each other’s company while we can.” I smile back.
“True, we won’t have long, but at least we aren’t alone. It’s nice you came with such a large group,” she says as we make our way down the stairs.
“Have your groups been small each time?” I ask, genuinely curious. It wasn’t lost on me that the shuttle we arrived on only had ten seats.
“Yes, my first group was me and two others from my tri-state. In Winnipeg, there were five of us.”
“So, have they told you who they are matching you with down here? I assume they’ve already got someone or they wouldn’t have made you travel here, right?” At least I hope they wouldn’t just move her around without a potential match.
“Right, but, I don’t have any details yet. Well, there is one detail, which is kind of exciting.” She hesitates.
“Really, what do you know?” I press.
“He’s a ninety-nine percent match for me. It’s the highest I’ve ever gotten. I might actually have a chance of this being my last husband.” She looks petrified and excited in equal measure.
“Whoa! Those are really great odds. What were your other matches?”
“Bill was seventy percent, Spencer, my second husband was seventy-seven percent.” She recalls matter-of-factly.
It’s amazing to me how she can talk about all of this without more emotion. I don’t think I could do it if I were in her shoes. My throat tightens. Please God, don’t let me end up in her shoes. “That’s really amazing, Faith. I’m sure this guy will be the one to give you a baby. And maybe he’ll be really nice, too, like Bill.”
She nods, “Well, he has to be better than Spencer. And at least if I have a baby this time, when our required time is up, I can go back to New Texas.”
“Are you really homesick? Do you have more family there?” I hate to pry, but she’s been so open, I hope she won’t mind. We’ve made it to the main hall, but stopped just off the porch.
“I have an aunt and uncle, and one cousin. But, my parents’ home is closed up and waiting for me, if ever I can get a release to go back. It sounds kind of heavenly to have a place all to myself, with no one telling me where I have to be, or who I have to live with. At first I so wanted to just settle down and live that perfect family life, but I don’t know if that’s eve
n in the cards for me anymore. Two husbands in, and I just want to steer my own ship now, you know?”
I nod, it makes perfect sense to me. “I’ve only been dealing with all this for a day, and I don’t want anything more than to run home and get back to my real life. None of this feels real to me yet.” I look down at the grass and scuff it under my boot.
“It didn’t become real for me the first time until I met Bill. Give it time, you’ll find your feet.” She gives me a brief side hug before starting up the porch steps.
I follow her, wishing I felt half as confident as she did that I would make it through this in one piece. We head into the dining hall for breakfast, get our plates and sit down with our group. Margaret, as usual, is sitting at the very end of the table, as far from us as possible. Shocker.
Around a mouthful of waffle, Nell asks, “Does anybody know what these classes are that we have for the rest of the day?”
“It’s the rest of the week,” Charlotte answers, “but I’m not sure what they’re about.”
“It’s probably some boring, BS topic.” Jenna says angrily. “God forbid they let us actually learn something useful, or a real job skill.” She viciously stabs a piece of sausage with her fork.
“Jenna, they clearly don’t care what’s in our heads. Just our baby boxes,” Josephine says, her acerbic humor like a dark cloud today.
“Hey, what did that sausage ever do to you?” I can’t help but laugh at her as she sticks her tongue out at me in response.
Margaret sighs from the end of the table, “What are you, five? Have some dignity.” She sneers at Jenna. “And they are teaching us what we need to know to perform our current duties. I spoke with Eric about it last evening at dinner, and he said we’ll be learning about reproduction, fertility, and infant care basics.” She spears a piece of fruit with delicate precision before continuing, “But if you ask me, they should add a class on basic table manners.” That’s interesting, as we hadn’t seen her or Eric at the dining hall last night. I’d assumed she’d just stayed in her room.
“Oh, don’t act like butter won’t melt in your mouth.” Beth-Ann interjects. “We’re all in the same boat; this would go a lot better for us all if you’d act like a normal human on occasion.” She’s eating a piece of plain toast and has a cup of tea but doesn’t seem to be enjoying either.
“All right, all right.” I give Beth-Ann a pointed look before saying, “Thanks for telling us, Margaret.” Beth-Ann drops it, but smacks my shin under the table with her foot. “Hey! I’m just trying to keep the peace.” She smiles as if she has no idea what I’m talking about, and takes a sip of her tea.
“Faith, haven’t you already taken these classes? Are they making you take them again? That seems like an epic waste of time,” Jenna points out.
Faith nods, “I have taken them twice. Unfortunately, every time you get reassigned to the eligibility pool, they make you retake the classes.”
Josephine rolls her eyes, “Don’t they know the entire world is infertile? It’s not your brain causing you not to get pregnant.”
A few redundant classes aren’t going to solve that.
Faith shrugs, “There’s no point in arguing. If they want me in class, I have to be in class.”
The chatting resumes as we all finish breakfast. As the last person is pushing her plate away, Eric strides into the room, wearing another suit. This one is electric blue, with a striped tie. “Ladies!” He booms from the doorway. “How is everyone feeling today? Excited to start your Future Mothers training course?”
There is a general murmur, but Margaret pipes up above the rest of us, “Of course, Eric, we’re all just happy to be useful!” I swear that’s the most chipper I’ve ever heard her.
He gives her a toothy smile, “Fantastic, that’s what we like to hear! Is everyone’s room to her liking?” We all nod in response, and he continues, “Perfect, that’s what I like to hear! If you’ll all follow me, I’ll escort you to the auditorium for your class.”
We all stand and he leads us out the back of the main hall to another building. On the way, he points out the entertainment hall, where the teaching auditorium is located, as well as a large gym, and another separate sports building. Right before we head into the building, he tosses out, “Oh, and I don’t know if any of you are into equestrian sports, but if you follow the path to the left of the entertainment hall, it will lead you to the stables.” He turns and holds the door for us, as if he didn’t just make my day.
“There are horses here?” I blurt out, unable to contain my excitement.
Margaret rolls her eyes, “No, I think they keep unicorns in the stables. Good night, the company I am forced to keep here would drive a lesser woman to drink.” She sashays past me into the building.
Eric laughs as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard, “Yes, there are horses. If you would like to try riding lessons, I can arrange an instructor for you.”
I’m almost shocked out of my boots to hear Leigh speak up, “Eric, Sadie here could teach your instructors a thing or two. Her family owns a ranch, she’s been riding her whole life.” She links her arm through mine, like she has Elena’s on her other side. I just give her a smile, and we walk through the door together, ignoring Eric’s look of surprise.
In no time, we’re all seated in a mid-sized auditorium with spiral-bound books and pens in front of us. A pink-scrub-clad nurse with midnight-black hair enters, and starts a video for us. After an hour on the female reproductive cycle, she hands out a small pink wristband to each of us.
“These wristbands are to be worn at all times outside of the shower or bath. It tracks your temperature, heart rate, and several other key indicators which track your fertile cycle. After one to two months, it will be able to predict within a twenty-four-hour window that you are ovulating, and will notify you with an indicator on your wrist.” She holds up a glowing wristband with a large pink heart flashing on it. These wristbands are key to helping you conceive quickly, so should be worn at all times.” She reiterates, clearly not trusting us to follow her directions with just one warning. Faith shifts uncomfortably next to me, but keeps quiet.
Josephine raises her hand, and the nurse points to her. “If the genetic matches and these wristbands are so magical, why is the birth rate still dropping? Shouldn’t things at least be holding steady by now?”
The nurse doesn’t take offense, just sounds bored, “Unfortunately, the genetic damage done to humans as a whole makes conception very difficult. Scientists calculate that our population rates would be dropping over thirty percent faster if it wasn’t for the program, and the technology we’re able to utilize.”
“Yeah, but is thirty percent really a big enough deal to make this mandatory for every single woman? Why can’t we still have jobs, and just have kids later when we’re ready?” she persists.
“That was actually the governmental direction until recently. Population size and birth rates have been closely tracked ever since the discovery of the Sterilization Vector, and in the last twenty years the world population has plummeted to lows not seen since the 1700s. If we’re not able to stabilize those numbers soon, even tri-states won’t be able to maintain sufficient populations. This was the agreed-upon solution to stave off further governmental restructuring and continued population declines,” she reasons.
“It just doesn’t seem right that the justices can all get together and make that kind of decision for us.” It’s Jenna who speaks this time. “Some of us want to live our own lives, not become baby factories. I want to get a paying job so I can support myself, not be reliant on some man I just met.”
“Well, it’s covered in the videos later this week, but I can mention it now—motherhood actually is a paid profession now. For every child born to a mother who’s attended this program, she will receive a stipend for the rest of her life. In addition, there are bonus stipends if you and your husband opt to participate in one of the offered genetic diversity programs and successfully ca
rry those children.”
This time it’s Charlotte whose hand goes up, and the nurse points to her, “What’s a genetic diversity program?”
The nurse sighs, “This is all covered in your videos over the next week. The genetic diversity programs are available to any mother who successfully carries two babies to term with her husband. She will then be assigned a different sperm donor, and through in vitro fertilization have the possibility of carrying additional children from another father. This helps keep the gene pool wide, and ensures the health of the human population long term.”
Charlotte’s eyebrows climb so high, they are almost hidden behind her bangs, “Who are all the sperm donors? Like, another woman’s husband, or . . .?” she trails off.
“No, in order for a man to opt out, he is required to provide sperm to the sperm bank to ensure his genes are preserved, as he may be the only viable match for a woman in the future. Now, if you will all allow me to start the next video, I’m sure it will answer some of your questions.” She turns her back to us, and flicks on the next video without waiting for a response.
The video drones on about the matching process, and how every woman will receive at least one match. Historically, multiple matches are possible, but rare. The current record is four matches of seventy percent or higher.
I tune out the rest of the video as I think over the information she just dumped in our laps. Every time I think I’ve got somewhat of a handle on this whole situation, there is a new facet that comes to light. How many men are really okay with having their wives carry another man’s baby? Even if it is done scientifically, in a lab? And raising another man’s baby? Although she said it was optional, a big part of me wonders how true that is, given this whole program used to be optional, too. It feels like they keep finding ways to dig deeper into controlling our futures.
