Anders frowns at me like the people do at the Village when I’m bad. He wants to punish me.
Then he shakes his shoulders and sighs. “Thanks.”
“Why are you sad? Is it because I got water on your floor?”
“No. I want you, but you’re a little kid.”
“No, I’m not,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I have all the grown-up stuff like Mama.”
“So does Dove, but she’s not a grown-up.”
I think of my sister. “No, but she isn’t a kid either.”
“She’s a teenager.”
“Am I a teenager?”
“I don’t know.”
“What does it matter?”
“If you’re a little kid, then I’m a gross weirdo for wanting to touch you.”
Smiling, I stretch out on the couch until my toes touch one end. “I’m not a little kid.”
“How old are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m a grown-up. I could have a helpmate and a baby at the Village. I just don’t want any of those men. They’re vile. Most of them think John Marks is smart, but he’s dumb. That means they’re dumb. I don’t want to have a baby with a dumb-dumb. I want someone like Papa.”
“And what was he like?”
Smiling, I remember my papa with his shiny brown eyes and a big, warm smile. “He was fun and smart. You can’t imagine how good his hugs were, Anders. But now he’s hugging in a different story.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to say that every time.”
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“Don’t say anything. People talk too much. The world can be quiet.”
Anders walks over to me and kneels down. He tugs the shirt I’m wearing toward my feet to make it cover me more.
“Aren’t you worried I’ll hurt you?” he asks in a quiet, fearful voice.
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t scared of your biker men friends either. I felt so happy.”
“It’s the caffeine and sugar from the drink.”
“Oh,” I say, stroking his beard. “If you want me to stop screaming over my family, you need to stop giving me angry bear faces.”
Sighing, Anders drops his bottom to the floor. “I messed up by going to see you.”
“I know, but that part of the story is already written. What can you do?”
Leaning against the couch, he lets me rub his bearded jaw. I think he needs affection, but no one taught him how to ask for it. His family wasn’t kind, and his biker men friends don’t seem like they hug.
“After we eat, we can watch a movie,” he says.
I imagine Mama worrying about me. Dove is so weak without food. Future’s little tummy hurts him. Perry cries at how his mother died of the flu last winter.
“Now, we’ll starve,” he says every night.
Mama has to stay strong for everyone. Tonight will be so difficult when she doesn’t know where I went. Are they hurting her? Mama has a heart full of sunshine and grit. That’s how she learned to deal with people in the outside world.
“Kick them in the penis and testicles,” she told Dove and me after the government men came to our commune and made us live in that concrete building.
“What about the women?” I asked.
“Just kick them.”
I never got to hurt anyone. Mama did a few times. She slapped one man when we came to the Village. He lifted her skirt to see if she was hiding anything. He hit her back. I was so scared, but she told me to stay still. Dove hid behind me. We were new, and the Volkshalberd could send us away. Where would we go? Our commune was gone, and we didn’t know how to live in the outside world.
Mama looked that man in the eyes and made a fist and swung on him. After he ducked, she kicked him in the penis and testicles. Then the other Volkshalberd laughed as the man whined on the ground. They said Mama came from a strong bloodline, and her spine was made of the most powerful mettle. We could stay.
Worrying tonight, I promise myself that Mama can handle John Marks and his brainless toadies. Mama will be alive when I return to the Village tomorrow. I’ll bring her to this big house with the rain shower and a fridge with no food. My family can eat the oranges from today’s snack. My stomach wants one right now, but Anders keeps saying how food is coming.
“But there’s food right there,” I tell him, yet he refuses to eat the oranges. He needs big food for his big body.
Then a bell rings, and I fall off the couch. The sound is so loud that I think someone is attacking the house.
“Jena is here with the groceries,” he says, standing up. “We’ll get more later.”
I sit on the floor and try to figure out where the loud noise came from. Maybe the box with the music. This house is confusing but not ugly like the government place.
A woman with dark hair cut into angles walks inside. She frowns at me, so I frown back.
“Jena, just help me,” Anders says, sounding overwhelmed. I think he doesn’t like people around me. Is he embarrassed by the people or me? I believe it’s me.
“What food is this?” I ask, hungry and nauseous.
Jena doesn’t answer me. Instead, she leaves the bags and then hurries out.
“She’s afraid of you,” I tell Anders while pulling food out of a bag. “What is this?”
“Coffee.”
“I don’t want that. Where are the apples?”
“We can’t eat that. Dinner is coming.”
“I’m hungry.”
Anders gives me that look again. Perry makes the same face when Mama angers people at the Village, and he wants her to be quiet and behave. It’s his begging look.
“You want things to be a certain way,” I say, letting him hide the food in the fridge, even though I’d rather eat it. “Why?”
“When I was little, nothing was the way I wanted,” he says in a rough voice. “Then I got older, and I still didn’t get to choose. Finally, I moved here, and people expected me to be in charge
