by Elin Peer
A smile tugged at Marco’s lips. “Now you have me curious – how did Shelly make a big boy like Plato sulk?”
“I’m not sulking and she only made herself look stupid,” Plato defended himself.
“Now you wait a minute,” Marco told Plato. “You and I are gonna have a conversation about respect. Shelly is a mentor assistant like me and you can’t talk back to her. Do you hear me?”
“Thank you,” Shelly interjected, “but I can fight my own battles.”
“You haven’t heard everything.” Raven pulled Marco’s attention back to her and licked her dried lips with eagerness before she continued. “The best part was when Shelly told Plato that the fact that jellyfish have survived without a brain for a million years gives hope for someone like him.”
“Huh.” Marco turned to Shelly, whose cheeks looked awfully red and who was busy drawing in the sand. “Did a nice girl like you really say that?”
“More or less,” she muttered. “Except that I want to point out that I did say the jellyfish have been around more than five hundred million years, not just a million.” She looked up at him. “Facts are important to me.”
“I see.” Marco ran his hands through his wet hair and drew in a long breath. “Plato, I would like us males to stick together and all, but I don’t know much about marine life. At least not enough to argue with a genius. However, I will say this: you were absolutely right about girls being weaker than boys.”
Raven squared her tiny shoulders and looked up at him. “That’s not true, I’m stronger than Nieall and Tommy.”
“I’ll bet you are, but they’re younger than you. I’m sorry, Raven, but it’s a fact of life that men are physically superior to women. It’s the natural order of things, since men are created to be protectors and hunters while women are created to be the caretakers.”
Shelly gaped at me, “Is he for real, Kya?” she asked.
I didn’t get a chance to answer before Marco carried on. “Yes, brainy, I’m for real and you can’t dispute that men are bigger and stronger than women.”
Shelly got up and brushed off sand from her behind. “I can’t listen to this, I’m going for a swim.”
“Really, Shelly?” he teased her. “I was expecting some genius comeback from you. That’s really disappointing.”
Shelly stopped and turned to look at him with disdain. “Just because I think doesn’t mean I’m obligated to share my thoughts. It’s a strategy I strongly suggest you start implementing.”
When she calmly walked away, I wanted to stand up and salute her. For a while now, I had been worried about her having a crush on Marco, so it made my day to see that at least one of us had the sense to move past that foolish notion. If only I could get Archer out of my system too.
Marco looked to me and split his sides in a fit of laughter. “I swear that nerd cracks me up. She says the craziest things.”
“She certainly has a temper,” I agreed and looked after Shelly in her one-piece bathing suit that revealed she hadn’t started developing into a woman yet. The contrast was clear when she walked past Rochelle and Willow, who might only be twelve and thirteen years old, but were already starting to fill out in the right places.
It wasn’t uncommon for siblings to develop differently since women in the Motherlands were typically inseminated with an anonymous donor. In Rochelle’s and Shelly’s case, it was pretty evident that Shelly’s father had to have been a small man in comparison to Rochelle’s father.
“Hey, Marco,” Willow called. “Can you teach us how to do a flip?”
Marco shielded his eyes from the sun with a hand to his eyebrows and looked at the two girls, who had been doing cartwheels. “Sure, just give me some time to dry, will you? His eyes swung to some of the older boys. “Hey, Oscar and Solo, go show the girls how to do flips.”
They rolled their eyes, but at least Oscar pushed up from the sand. “You coming?” he asked Solomon, but the oldest of the boys stayed firmly on his belly and looked away from Willow.
“Yeah, I just need a minute.”
Oscar nodded with a sympathetic glance and muttered “Oh, okay.” And then he jogged leisurely over to impress the girls with a long series of acrobatic flips, perfectly displaying his balance, strength, and body control.
“Marco, can you look after the kids while I take a dip?” I asked and got up.
“No problem, and you can tell Finn to get up here if you want to. He’s been in the water for almost an hour now.”
The men were playing some rough games with the children, throwing them and splashing water, so I chose to float next to Shelly instead.
“Are you excited about your mom coming tomorrow?” I asked her.
“Of course.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you if you like being my assistant,” I asked to make small talk.
Shelly didn’t even hesitate when she answered. “I do. It’s not very academically challenging of course, but I find it fascinating to study the Nmen and their culture.”
It was hard to hear what she was saying when I was floating with my ears under the water so I changed position and trod water.
“Did you say that you find the Nmen fascinating?”
She nodded.
“Tell me: what’s your impression of them so far?”
She angled her head and looked thoughtful. “They have some of the character traits that I was expecting such as being highly competitive, combative, aggressive, physically strong, and confrontational in their communication.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“That being said,” she continued matter-of-factly, “I rather appreciate their directness and logical thinking. What surprises me, though, is how unwilling they are to address their need for connection – both physically and spiritually. In fact, if you try to bring it up as a subject, they will either joke about it or change the subject.”
“Yes, they don’t like to talk about emotions much,” I agreed. “At least not in public.” I realized that I could stand on my tiptoes with the water covering my chest.
Shelly mirrored me, but because she was petite the water went all the way up to her chin. “Did you know that most of them are superstitious? Finn, for instance truly believes that he was cursed. And he’s a doctor.” She emphasized the last part with a shake of her head.
“I know.” I furrowed my brow. “It’s bizarre, isn’t it?”
“It’s like on one side they’re big brave men, and on the other side they’re small naïve boys willing to believe in myths and legends.”
“Why do you think that is?”
Shelly wrinkled her nose up. “My only logical conclusion is that they are trained to take orders and not ask too many critical questions. I suppose it comes with being conditioned from an early age.”
“Aren’t we all?”
She shrugged. “Some more than others, I guess.”
“And you don’t consider yourself conditioned?”
“We’re all products of the environment we grow up in, but I would like to think that I reflect on things more than the average person.”
“I would agree. You’re very astute,” I complimented her.
“It’s just how my brain works.”
Moving my hands in circles, I made small waves in the water, and took a minute to enjoy the calming sounds of the ocean and the heat of the sun on my scalp. “How does it feel to be a genius anyway?” I asked her.
A triangle formed between her eyebrows. “I don’t think of myself that way. There might be things that are easy for me, but believe me, other things can completely throw me off.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for one, I know nothing about fashion, nor do I want to. And I often bore people when I talk to them because I go into too many details and get hung up on the facts.”
“I don’t think it’s boring with details.”
“That’s because you’re fairly intelligent too,” Shelly said dryly before her eyes glazed over. “Sometimes I just wish t
hat people would see past my brain. It’s like all they see is my intellect, and they all expect me to invent something revolutionary or cure a horrible disease because anything less would be a waste of my genius.” She sighed. “I wish I could come up with something outrageous and show everyone that there’s more to me than smarts.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
“That’s the problem,” she said softly. “I’m not creative enough to come up with something outrageous.”
I pursed my lips upward. “I don’t know about that, Shelly. I would say that a fifteen-year-old Motlander teaching at a school in the Northlands is not only historic but outrageous too.”
A smile grew on Shelly’s mouth and it lit up her whole face, making her eyes sparkle with amusement. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely!” I gave her a hug. “Come on, you outrageous young woman, let’s get all these kids back to the hotel for some lunch and an afternoon full of exciting lessons.”
CHAPTER 21
Live a Little
Archer
The low giggling of Varna, one of the two mediators that had been following us around since we arrived in the Motherlands, attracted my attention. Finn was at it again: making jokes and melting the ladies.
Walking over to stand next to him, I whispered with some annoyance. “Honestly, Finn, do you think you can stop flirting until we get out of the cemetery?”
Finn turned his attention from Varna. “I wasn’t flirting, I was just making conversation. Isn’t that right, Nirvana?”
The woman giggled some more and looked completely smitten with Finn.
“Knock it off, will you?” I told him and leaned in. “The press is here and I don’t want us to look like crude idiots who can’t even respect the peace of the dead.”
“Oh, you’ve got it all wrong, Archer, I’m very respectful of women, dead or alive,” Finn said with a serious expression.
Some of the boys started talking among themselves and I moved on to quiet them down
“This is boring,” Oscar complained. “Why do we have to visit a graveyard when we could be at the beach?”
“You can go to the beach later, right now you’re learning about what happens when you die in the Motherlands.”
“But it’s just a forest,” Hunter pointed out. “There’s not even a gravestone.”
“What was that?” Kya asked and zoomed in on me and the boys.
“Nothing,” Hunter said quickly.
“I thought I heard you talk about gravestones.”
He looked around and shrugged. “It’s just a strange graveyard, that’s all.”
“There’s nothing strange about it,” Kya said calmly and came to stand in front of us. This is what the urn looks like before it becomes a tree.” She was holding an earth-colored biodegradable urn in her hands.
“Okay, but how do you fit people into that?”
A few of the kids snickered.
“You fit their ashes into it,” Kya explained patiently. “Then you plant it in the ground and watch your beloved ones return to nature.”
“Does that mean you’re going to be a tree when you die too?” Oscar asked her.
“I hope so,” she said and looked to me as if to challenge me to ridicule the idea. I didn’t, because I fucking loved the idea of becoming part of the forest.
Nicki raised her hand. “I heard that people used to plant the trees in their houses and gardens.”
“That’s true.” Kya nodded. “But it was banned in 2405 after a woman killed herself in distress that her mother’s tree had died because she forgot to water it.”
“Another ban.” Marco rolled his eyes. “Honestly, what’s up with all your bans, rules, and laws?” he asked. “I swear you can’t even fart in this country without having to make sure the wind blows in the right direction or you’ll offend someone.”
“We don’t have rules about farting,” Raven said quickly but then she turned her head to Kya. “Do we?”
Kya sighed. “No, not unless you count good manners.”
Solomon spoke up. “I wouldn’t mind being a tree when I die, as long as I get to be the biggest tree in the forest.”
I shook my head at him. “Competitive much?”
“To my grave,” he said and broke into a grin.
Smack, Finn’s hand hit Solomon in the back of his head. “What’s wrong with you, boy? This is a graveyard and you’re laughing.”
Solomon was rubbing the back of his neck and scowling at Finn.
“You can put that scowl away or you can do fifty push-ups right here in front of everyone,” Finn said and looked down his nose at Solomon, who was about half a head smaller than him.
A silent power match took place between the youngster and the doctor, and in provocatively slow motion, Solomon dropped down and did push-ups as if it was nothing.
Kya was sending pleading looks in my direction and side glimpses at the journalist and photographer that were following us around today.
“Anybody else want to join the fun?” I asked the Motlander children in an attempt to soften up the situation, but this time they just shook their heads.
Not surprisingly, the journalist asked about the situation when Kya and I sat down with them for an interview.
Kya was squirming in her seat when I answered the question. “We would never abuse our children, but we believe in strong discipline and have a variety of ways to enforce it,” I said.
“How would you compare the two groups of children? What are their strengths and weaknesses?” the journalist asked, crossed his legs, and rested his hands in his lap.
“Well.” I cleared my throat. “The children from the Motherlands are very good at meditating and massaging each other. Some of them are also strong readers and I’m generally impressed with their math skills.
“But when it comes to physical strength, agility, and survival skills, tsk…” I smacked my tongue against my palate. “The Motlander children are hopelessly behind.”
“Is that true?” the journalist asked Kya.
It was fascinating how she managed to unscrew her jaw and smile politely. “Yes, it’s true that we are academically stronger, and I would be inclined to agree with Mr. Archer that their children are more physically fit than ours.”
“My boys are not academically inferior,” I said sharply. “In fact, I’m pretty sure that if we were to compete for the sake of national pride, my boys would win big.”
“What an excellent idea.” The male journalist smiled widely. “I’m sure our viewers would love to see a competition between our children and the boys from the Northlands.”
My competitive gene was already kicking in. “Oh, you’re on!” I got up from the chair and strutted out of the room. “We’ll meet you outside in ten minutes.”
Kya came running after me. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Not at all; I look forward to showing you people that we aren’t as dumb as you think.”
“But Archer, we have worked so hard to integrate the children as one group. This whole trip was supposed to bring them together, and now you want to divide them up and make them competitors?”
“What’s wrong? Are you afraid you’re gonna look stupid out there?”
“This isn’t about me.” Kya’s brown eyes were turning darker every second. “How could you take the bait of that journalist? I thought you were smarter than that, and did you forget that some of the children have family members who are here to spend time with them?”
“They are free to watch.” I didn’t stay to discuss it further because I had a competition to win and a team to prep.
Just like me, the boys were excited about the challenge.
“Oh, we’re so going to take them down,” Plato declared and raised his hands as if the triumph was already his.
Twenty minutes later, Finn had helped me convince Kya to live a little and not take it all too seriously. An audience of hotel guests had gathered, together with Sheana Rene, who was
here to see her two daughters.
Finn and Cindy had been appointed as referees and the first assignment they came up with was a spelling bee.
We nailed it. Or rather, Sky and Mila got so nervous when they had to spell their words that they fumbled and messed up. It was ironic because those two girls were actually really good at spelling. Still, the Northlands took that point and that was all that mattered.
Next the children battled in math. The little ones had to go over the math tables as fast as possible, while the older one had to solve more complicated math problems.
I was proud of my boys, who kept their nerves in check and focused on the task in front of them like brave troopers. Only two of them messed up and got the answer wrong. I fisted my hand and shouted “Yes” when the Northlands took that point as well.
“Okay, now let’s see how well you work together,” Cindy said. “For the next assignment we want a group answer. We have gathered five questions about this hotel and you have ten minutes to find the answers. Each group will get a pencil and a ruler.”
The kids eagerly bunched together and started reading the five questions before they ran in different directions.
To fill out the time, the journalist interviewed Varna about her experience with the men of the North. I smiled when I overheard her say that she had been pleasantly surprised. I would have to buy Finn a beer when we got back to the Northlands.
The kids ran here and there before they came back to the front of the hotel where we were all standing, both groups staring up at the flagpole.
“What are they doing?” I asked Finn.
“They have to measure the height of the flagpole,” he said. “It was Cindy’s idea.”
When the ten minutes were up, Finn started counting backwards from twenty before he demanded to have the answers they had come up with.
“The first question was: name the year this hotel was built,” he said. “And both groups were correct with the year 2415.”
“It said so on a sign by the entrance,” William said.
Both groups also had the three questions after that correct, but when we got to the height of the flagpole, no one seemed sure and Cindy needed help converting the boys’ feet into meters.
