Trevor leaned back and tilted his head to the ceiling.
“That is,” he mouthed some calculations to himself, “Most likely correct.”
“Which means we’ll have to have the kids ourselves.”
“Right,” he said, maintaining his gaze.
They sat for a while longer.
“God, I’m being such a baby, aren’t I?” Trevor sighed, “I’m gifted with the ability to bear the miracle of life and we have to have a goddamn intervention about it.”
“You’re not being a huge baby,” Kate said, “You’ve never had to consider this in your life plan.”
“So I’m only a little baby?”
“A real teeny one.”
Trevor finally gave in and took a bite of his cookie.
“So do we actually plan out who gets pregnant or do we just leave it to fate?” he said.
“Wait, are you saying you’re actually willing to get pregnant and give birth to our child?”
“I… am. Yes. I am willing to do that.”
He felt a strange sort of pressure release as he said it.
“Well, if that’s the case, we’re going to have to start having sex in a way that gets you pregnant.”
“I think we can start doing that,” Trevor said, “We’ve already had sex when you have a…”
“Penis?”
“I just wanted to make sure you don’t mind me calling it that.”
“I’m sure.”
She gave in and took a cookie for herself.
“Or I just have all the kids like we were planning in the first place.”
“Are you sure? That doesn’t sound very, you know, fair.”
“It’s as fair as it was before. Plus,” she said and turned her eyes down, “I’m really scared I won’t love our kids as much if you have them.”
“You are?”
“Yeah. I don’t know, it’s just been a really weird few months. I mean, obviously, but before this year every time I thought of having kids I thought of the whole package, you know? Feeling the baby kick inside me, feeding it myself, having that skin to skin contact. I never conceived of having kids and someone else doing all that stuff. I’m worried if you have them they’ll be your children.”
“Katie, they’re always going to be our children.”
“I know,” she said and wiped away a tear that hadn’t quite formed, “I can’t believe I feel this way. I never really thought of myself as baby-crazy or anything. Some girls want a dude to stick a kid in them as soon as possible and I thought I was, I don’t know, better than that. I never thought I was that invested in carrying a child; it was just a given. Now everything has changed and it feels like something’s being ripped away from me at the last second. I always knew I wanted to have kids, but I think maybe what I really wanted was to be a mother. I just don’t know what that means now.”
Trever reached across and held her hand. She squeezed back and smiled.
“If that’s how you feel we can just go ahead and do it like we always planned.”
“I know, it just feels like such a wasted opportunity, doesn’t it? I’m giving up years of my life and maybe my career when there’s another option right there. We’ve always wanted to be as equal as possible in this marriage and now we have another way to do that.”
They each slumped their shoulders. It felt like they were back where they started. Then Trevor perked up.
“What if we did it at the same time?” he said.
“You think?”
“Sure. People always like to have their kids as close together as possible; we could have ours within a couple of months of each other if we plan it right.”
“Can people get each other pregnant when they’re pregnant?”
“Yep, I’ve seen stories of couples who are now pregnant at the same time.”
“Really? God, some people took really quick to this new situation, didn’t they?”
“Yeah.”
“Heh,” she snorted, “Can you imagine both of us waddling around in our third trimesters at the same time?”
“I’m still having enough trouble imagining myself pregnant honestly.”
“Yeah, you might even grow B cups,” she said.
Trevor shook his head. Kate still somehow maintained the delusion he was self-conscious about the size of his chest.
“I guess there could be some benefits,” she said, “We could each feed both of them. We could stagger our maternity leave. We could get the big disruption out of the way all at once instead of stretching it out. Plus, your parents were already planning on helping so we wouldn’t be too invalid when we’re both late into our pregnancies.”
“It honestly might be best idea if we’re set on having more than one kid.”
“Plus we could honestly say ‘We’re pregnant’ without sounding like assholes.”
“It’d be just our luck to each end up having twins though, wouldn’t it?” he laughed.
“We’d each have our little teams then,” she said, “We could match them up in badminton or whatever.”
“Mommy’s kids vs. Daddy’s kids: there’s a sibling rivalry for you.”
They both smiled.
“It’s an idea,” Kate determined, “Maybe we should think about that one and the, uh, traditional way for a week and talk again next Sunday.”
“Sure. And we can keep talking about it before then.”
“Of course.”
They leaned forward and kissed.
“It’s going to be great,” she promised.
Summer Festival Planning Session
Rochester Theatre Company
Rochester, MN
Monday April 2, 91 days after
“I’m just going to throw this out there,” Deborah said, “But how about Twelfth Night?”
The groans and jeers were immediate and overpowering.
“Everyone’s doing Twelfth Night!”
“That play’s going to be untouchable for a decade!”
“It’s not even that good!”
“I’m just saying,” Deborah said over the din, “It’s an obvious choice, but most of our audience is going to only one Shakespeare play this year – if that – and we might as well be the version of Twelfth Night they see.”
“It’s not just that it’s obvious,” Sage said, “It’s just what is that play saying now? What does Viola acting as a man mean these days? Is that just making fun of PSMs that act masculine?”
“It’s about more than how we perform gender,” Deborah said, “It’s about attraction. All those characters who fall in love with each other despite their sex. I think that’s a relevant theme right now.”
The group remained visibly unconvinced.
“Fine, no one else wants to do it, but I got to say my piece.”
Everyone de-bristled as the offending suggestion was withdrawn. Then a few more seconds passed.
“So,” Gregg said, “What do we do then?”
No one had a great answer but knew every second that passed lent credence to Deborah’s Twelfth Night proposal.
“We could do Macbeth,” Jason said.
“Any reason?” Sage inquired.
“It’s… a good play?” Jason said.
It seemed an insufficient explanation, however true.
“Listen,” Sage said, “I think it’s foolish to pretend like The Shift didn’t happen. We don’t have to do something as obvious as Twelfth Night, but I think we should do something that addresses the current climate.”
“Midsummer’s Night Dream might be good,” Jason suggested.
“I think a play based on literal transformation might hit too close to home for a lot of people,” Gregg said, “Plus everyone gets changed back to normal at the end of the play. That might come off a bit cruel.”
“As You Like It might be a more palatable play that features cross-gender mistaken identity,” Sage said.
“The sexual politics of that one were always weird,” Deborah said, “Everyone ends
up married or in a monastery. It’s all too tidy and pastoral.”
“Compared to what, though?” Jason said, “Which progressive Shakespeare play are you holding out for?”
“Look, I just don’t care for it is all.”
“Okay, so…” Jason began, almost to himself “Taming of the Shrew has a weird message and Two Gentlemen of Verona has a guy offering a woman to a rapist. Much Ado About Nothing sort of offers competing versions of masculinity and femininity that we could play up.”
Everyone nodded in a conciliatory sort of way. It seemed like the least offensive option offered so far.
“What if we did Romeo and Juliet?” Gregg suggested, “We could focus on the reconciliation angle.”
“How do you mean?” Jason said.
“Like, we focus on the rivalry between the Capulets and Montagues and how they come together at the end. Only we make one all masculine and the other all feminine.”
“That could be… interesting,” Sage said. Gregg gave them the slightest glare. “I’m not being sarcastic! I actually think they might be interesting!”
“So we dress up all the Capulets in gowns and the Montagues in knickers?” Jason asked.
“Or we do it the other way around,” Deborah said.
“A masculine Juliet and a feminine Romeo?” Jason said, “That sounds like playing against expectations just for the sake of it.”
“No, no think about it,” Deborah said, “Both are constrained and embedded in their gender roles which are depicted by their feuding families. They yearn to break free of these roles by finding love with one another. When Romeo seeks a masculine Juliet, he’s attempting to claim that part of himself that he’s been denied.”
It was Deborah’s usual high-concept posturing, but the group could make out some merit behind it.
“We can try it in rehearsals both ways and see which one we like more. Hell, we could even switch back and forth between performances,” Gregg said.
“That’s twice as many costumes I’d have to make,” Jason protested.
“We could cast actors with similar builds among the natural pairings,” Gregg responded, “Romeo with Juliet, Lord Montague with Lord Capulet, Tybalt and Mercutio…”
“Mercutio’s not a Montague though,” Sage corrected.
“He’s not?”
“Nope, kinsman of Prince Escalus.”
“Oh, right,” Gregg said, “Well, we’d want to keep him the same side as Romeo as a counterpoint to Tybalt. Benvolio would be matched up against Paris anyway.”
“There are still roles that can’t swap clothes,” Jason said, “I’m not going to have the nurse and friar share outfits. That wouldn’t make sense at all.”
“Okay, there might be a few roles that can’t swap costumes, but finding a monk and nun costume for one person isn’t going to be hard” Sage said, “And it’s now twice as easy to match up actors with similar figures. This will be a good way to showcase costuming too; everyone’s going to be noticing and talking about the clothing you supply.”
They were right, but as usual everyone underestimated the work required of Jason’s department. He decided to save the “I told you so’s” for later.
“I think all options are worth exploring,” Deborah said, “We can run through a dress rehearsal in normal costuming and then swap things around and see how it strikes us. The fencing scenes might be tough in skirts but we’ll see how difficult that would be to overcome. If we don’t like it we can scrap it and we’ve already got a traditionally staged version of Romeo and Juliet on our hands and people like those.”
“Yes, very traditional,” Jason said.
Sage smirked. “If anything’s more traditional than dressing men up in gowns for a Shakespeare play I’d like to hear it.”
Hook-Up Joint
L’Amore Hotel
Kansas City, MO
Friday September 21, 263 days after
Chris turned the rear-view mirror to check his lipstick. The first couple times he wore it he unconsciously wiped or licked it off as he was driving. He had managed to make his way to the hotel with it intact this time. He could have just put in on there in the parking lot; it wasn’t like he was that precise with his application. The point was to wear lipstick, not for it to look the best.
He stepped out of his car, tucked his phone in his pocket and straightened out his shirt. His chances that night might be better if he wore a skirt, but he didn’t feel like buying clothing he was only going to wear a few hours each month. A seven-dollar tube of lipstick got the job done just fine.
Someone else got out of their car one row down from him. They were wearing a dress and heels. Chris met their eyes and both gave half a smile to their competition.
He peaked up at the moon as if he didn’t already know it was waxing gibbous. Nine months ago he couldn’t name a phase besides full and now he could name every one, their nicknames, and when they’d occur for the next three months. Actually, he only knew when two of them would occur the next three months.
The debate over whether people go into heat had replaced whether lesbians scissor and if men can achieve multiple orgasms as the most contentious sexual controversy. In fact, Chris had already done the former (it was okay) and everyone could now do the latter (in his experience). No one could agree whether peoples’ libidos peaked opposite the time they were packing. Some people swore it happened and others said it was just an excuse for prisms to be sluts.
All Chris knew was two weeks after he was packing he found himself driving to a hook-up joint to find someone who was.
As he approached the entrance his rival in the dress held the door open for him. He passed through and nodded toward them.
“Good luck,” they said.
He slowed down half a step. Something about the way they said “good luck” made him flash back to pregame handshakes before basketball games in high school. That along with the door made him wonder if they were a fellow prism. Either way they looked better prepared than him.
The dance floor spread off to his right while the bar sat to his left. Dozens of chest-high cocktail tables were arranged for people to converse. They were only big enough for two people to stand next to and the first couple of times he’d come they usually accommodated that many. Now a third of the tables were filled by groups of up to five. He hadn’t tried that yet. Maybe he was just old fashioned. Or he didn’t know how exactly that worked. Did all the smooth ones come as a group or…
The dance floor was full and was a less efficient way of getting a hookup anyway. Besides, he wasn’t really dressed for it. He stalked around the edge of the sea of tables, peering through to see what tables had single occupants. The loners with no drinks were mostly wearing skirts and makeup. The loners with two drinks were mostly wearing tight pants.
None of the people with two drinks interested him and at least one had been uninspiring a previous night. He decided to take a table himself and see if anyone bit.
Chris snatched an empty table and tried to look available. He remembered he forgot to unbutton his shirt and he spread the gap down to the fourth button. He hadn’t shaved, but with hair as light as his it wasn’t too noticeable. Hopefully his cleavage would attract the most attention. He leaned forward and stuck his behind out, making it as easy as possible for suitors to find the relevant information.
A few minutes passed while he caught the eye of some prowlers. They seemed enthusiastic after checking out his figure but an uneasy grimace settled in after that. Chris figured they were prisms who didn’t want to be reminded they were fucking someone who used to be a guy. He didn’t begrudge them. Everyone was going at their own pace.
He was about to try another table or maybe the bar when he felt someone brush up behind him.
“You looked like you could use some company,” a voice said.
Before he could turn she was in front of him. Her hair was long and nut-brown and her skin was dark. She wore a frilled, light blue blouse and tight jeans. Her makeup
was vibrant and she wore large hoop earrings. Her affect was so feminine he was worried she mistook him for packing, but a quick glance at the front of her jeans told him otherwise.
“I’m Kili,” she said and extended her hand. Her nails were colorful but tightly cropped.
“Chris,” he responded and shook.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” she said.
“Well, I’m not a regular,” Chris said, “I just come whenever the mood strikes.”
“You should come more often. I bet a lot of people here would thankful if you did.”
Chris blushed and turned away. He found himself leaning more on the table. It was happening again. He always got like this when he was in heat. Overreacting to compliments. Looking too long into people’s eyes. Wanting to be touched.
“Maybe you could make a good case for that.”
“Oh, I always make a good case. All the girls who spend the night with me become regulars here.”
He leaned even more on the table as he felt his knees grow weaker. It was happening fast. It always happened fast. He didn’t even mind her using the G Word. She could call him anything she wanted if she gave him what he needed.
“What kind of case do you make?” he breathed and moved closer to her. He didn’t touch her though. He waited for her to touch him.
“Oh, let’s see,” she said and put a hand on his arm. He shivered. “First I like to inspect the goods. Make the girl undress so I can see every bit of her.”
She moved closer. She was only an inch taller than him but it felt like she towered over him.
“Then what?”
“Then I like to investigate. Touch all over her. See what gets the most reaction.”
Chris’ heart pounded as she wrapped a hand around the small of his back.
“Then what?”
“Then I like to make things fair and get out of my clothes,” she said and pulled his body against hers. He felt the bulge on her crotch. The sensation elated him and he pressed his leg up against it to feel it.
He felt the bulge shift up.
“What the…”
He shifted his leg up again. The bulge moved until it popped out of the top of Kili’s jeans and landed on the floor. Her eyes panicked.
The Shift: Scenes from the Year Humanity Lost Sex Page 4
