A Better Place
by Kate Raffordy
Copyright 2008 Kate Raffordy
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CHAPTER 1
The apartment was still and quiet as Cora Cain waited anxiously for her friend Ruth to arrive. She turned off the television and leaned her head back against the worn sofa. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, allowing a long, slow sigh to escape her lips. She was tired. Not physically tired, but an exhaustion caused by loneliness.
Three years ago, her sister Beth had moved to Pennsylvania, leaving her alone for the first time in her life. For a while the solitude had been great. She came and went as she pleased and she answered to no one. She had plenty of friends and spent many evenings with them away from her lonely apartment.
For eighteen years an incurable disease, known as All Male Extinction Syndrome or AMES disease, had robbed the world of its men. With their prolonged absence, some women—including most of Cora's friends—turned to each other for intimacy. Cora felt no interest in or desire for a relationship with another woman. She had had that chance and turned it down long ago, when Ruth confessed her love for Cora. And though she often accompanied her friends for dinner or a night on the town, friendships and busy schedules were not enough.
Her desire was not sexual, although admittedly that was often another concern. Self stimulation was an acceptable alternative to total abstinence. She thought up ways to amuse herself, borrowing romance novels from the library to expand her imagination. And there was always the service of Sexual Reality, which she learned about in an article from the magazine section of the Sunday Sun Times. The article claimed it to be the latest trend in artificial sexual stimulation. It was as close as she was probably ever going to get to an intimate relationship.
The concept of video reality had been around since before her father died, but it had advanced to where not only was a person surrounded by three-dimensional images but the characteristics of sound and touch were also simulated. She had of course never been with a real man—there were none—but the exposure to the simulated act was enough to satisfy her sexual desire. Sexual Reality was big business and Cora found it most gratifying.
But something was missing and only recently did she feel she knew what it was. It wasn't just that she was tired of being alone, tired of longing for something tangible, someone real to share her life. She wanted something more than physical love. It was her need for emotional intimacy that left her feeling empty inside.
What she wanted, what she needed was a baby. And today was the day she was finally going to do the one thing that would satisfy her need.
With her head still reclined against the back of the sofa, Cora brought her arm up to eye level and checked her watch. She let her arm fall back heavily to the sofa and once more closed her eyes and tried to relax. Ruth was not due to arrive for another thirty minutes.
Cora had known Ruth since the eighth grade and had been her partner cleaning windows ever since Ruth suggested she apply for the job. They didn't spend as much time together as they used to, not since high school when Ruth quit school in the middle of her junior year and moved in with Melanie Parker. Getting Cora the job was one way to see each other without sending Melanie into a jealous rage.
It was only a little more than a year ago that Melanie, hoping to seal her rocky relationship with Ruth, had decided to visit the fertility clinic and had since given birth to a girl. Cora knew that her friend still harbored strong feelings for her but was none the less surprised when Ruth offered to accompany her. She didn't ask if Melanie was aware of Ruth's offer. That was really none of her business. She was nervous about visiting the fertility center and was just relieved to have someone she trusted go with her on this momentous occasion.
She looked again at her watch. Normally Cora was a patient person, but she was anxious about her decision and wished she could shut out the nagging doubts that plagued her while she waited for Ruth's arrival.
She wondered if she would make a good mother. She had never been very domestic. She had always been somewhat of a tomboy. Her favorite person in the whole world had been her brother Robert. She even chose the job of window cleaner because it allowed her to be out of doors most of the time. She never even played with dolls as a child. As much as she wanted a child, she couldn't help but wonder what kind of mother would she be?
She was startled out of her reverie by the sound of the doorbell. She looked at her watched again. Her mouth went dry and her heart beat rapidly inside her chest. It was time to go.
Suddenly, she wasn't entirely sure she had made the right decision. She wasn't sure she was ready to become a mother.
As they stood outside the building, Cora stopped short of the single step that lead to its entrance. Ruth stood beside her. Together they blocked a major portion of the sidewalk, making a human barricade. Other women glared at them contemptuously as they passed. The building was not far from the Belmont El station and evidently a very busy thoroughfare.
"Are you sure this is the place?" Cora asked. "It looks more like a morgue than a fertility clinic."
"Yeah, it is kinda scary looking, isn't it? But trust me, this is it." Ruth had paid no attention to the building when she had come here with Melanie. Then it had only been a means to an end. Now it was different. She was here to lend support to a friend and she agreed with Cora—this did not look like a place that insured the future of the world. As she too stared at the building before them, she reached out and gave Cora's hand a reassuring squeeze.
Cora let her eyes drift slowly upward. The six story building towered over her like a craggy gray giant. It was a staggeringly oppressive structure that made its neighboring buildings seem small and insignificant despite their more welcoming appearance. Cora felt overwhelmed by its presence.
"I don't know, Ruth. Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"
"What do you mean the right thing? What's wrong with having a baby? The world would end if someone didn't have the babies."
"No, that's not what I mean. I mean am I doing it for the right reasons?"
"You want someone to love. What's wrong about that?"
"But what if I have a boy? What will I do then?"
"Come on, Cora. You can't worry about that. We all take that chance."
"Yeah, but …"
"But nothing. If you have a boy, you'll love him for as long as you can. That's all you can do." Ruth's impatience was beginning to show. A part of her wanted to believe that this would have been her and Cora's baby. If Cora backed out, her fantasy of sharing this moment with the woman she loved would end. "Now let's go."
Cora looked again at the large, gray building. The rough texture of its ashen slabs of stone appeared cold and solemn. It had no color, no welcoming exterior that invited one in to participate in the ritual of creating life.
"Are we going to stand out here all day, or are we going in?"
Cora took a tentative step forward. "I guess we're going in." As she pushed open one of the two glass doors, she felt wobbly, like her legs had suddenly turned to jelly. Her heart beat rapidly, and she could feel her pulse throbbing inside her neck. She tried but was unable to take a deep breath. She was not sure which frightened her more: the responsibility of becoming a mother or the possibility of having a boy or the dreadful building itself.
She chuckled softly at the unreasonableness of her fear. Here she was, someone who hung off the side of a building for a living, freaking out on the ground floor. Still … hanging off the side of a building seemed a piece of cake compared to this.
"What's so funny?" Ruth asked.
"Nothing really." Cora listened to the clop, clop, clop of the heels of her flats as she crossed the black tiled floor to the wall of elevators at the end of the empty, gray foyer. "I was just thinking how this scares me more than dangling twenty stories above the ground." She let her eyes wander as she and Ruth closed the gap between the entrance and the elevators. "God, can't they afford to put some plants or something in here? Maybe a picture on the wall. Better yet, paint the wall."
Cora felt herself growing silly with nervousness. The place looked like some medieval dungeon and she felt like she was taking the long walk to the gallows. Maybe the elevators were rigged and would rise briefly, only to send them plummeting to their deaths.
"Are you sure this isn't the morgue?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," Ruth said as she pushed the up button. "You're right, though. This place could certainly use a decorator. Funny, when Melanie and I came here I never noticed how dismal it was. Must have been because I was too nervous about becoming a parent. Trust me though. The floor the clinic is on is much more cheery."
The gentle hum of the elevator as it slowly descended from the upper floors sounded like moans from a tortured soul. Cora imagined the gnashing teeth of some primitive apparatus as its gears turned and meshed, tightening the cable that stretched and crippled its unseen victim. The elevator stopped with a muted thud and its doors drew open noiselessly. Cora shook off the cold chill that rushed down her spine and following Ruth, stepped tentatively into the empty elevator.
When the elevator doors opened again, Cora was surprised and thankful to see a decor quite different from the one she had just left. Plush gray carpeting extended from pale mauve wall to pale mauve wall. Oriental urns, brightly painted and housing deep green foliage, lined the walls at random intervals. Abstract paintings in pastel shades hung in pairs between each urn.
Cora felt herself relax as Ruth led the way to an unmarked door at the end of the hall.
The first visit was restricted to filling out forms, answering a lot of personal questions, a gynecological exam and giving blood. After filling out the forms, Cora was escorted to a small white room in the rear of the office. Ruth remained in the waiting room for the better part of an hour until Cora returned.
"Well, how did it go?" Ruth asked, handing Cora her purse and rising to leave.
"They certainly are a nosey bunch, aren't they? They asked me some of the most embarrassing questions I've ever heard. They didn't believe me when I told them that I've never slept with a woman before." Cora didn't notice Ruth's satisfied smile. "Made me feel like a freak or something."
"Don't worry about it. It's over. Now all you have to do is wait."
"They told me to come back in a week for the results." Cora touched Ruth's arm to gain her direct attention. "What kind of results are they looking for anyway?"
"Well, for one thing AIDS. Other than that, I guess they're looking to see if you are even able to conceive. Some women aren't, you know."
"Oh." Cora pushed the button for the elevator. "Well, let's get out of here." This time Cora never noticed the creaking sound of the rising elevator. "I'm starved. Want to get some lunch?"
"Let's do it."
Two months later Cora was pregnant and with her feelings of dread tucked away in her subconscious, as happy as any expectant mother.
As soon as she found out, she wrote to her sister Beth and asked if she would be her midwife when the time came. Beth was shocked to hear that Cora would do something so domestic but quickly agreed to help. She gave Cora the name of a friend who would see to her prenatal needs and told Cora that she would arrive at the end of her eight month.
Cora continued to do high-rise until the end of her forth month, which was anything from scaffolding work to hanging off the side of a building on a wooden swing they called a genie. She did ground and pole work for another two, then after that she was restricted to only the easiest ground jobs until she started her eighth month, at which time she went on leave. Beth arrived as planned.
The nine months went by so quickly that it was difficult for her to believe that soon the waiting would be over. She hoped desperately for a girl. Having a boy meant she would have to face the possibility, no, the probability of one day losing him to the disease that continued to claim all boys. The thought of loving a child for twelve years and then having to give him up was something she was sure she couldn't do.
While pregnant she had often visited the library to read about what was happening inside her body. Once, she read about some tests that used to be performed to determine the sex of a child before it was born. When she asked her doctor about it, she was told that the tests had been forbidden for some years because the government feared that women who knew that they were having a boy would choose to abort rather than go full term.
She explained to Cora that eliminating the birth of boys would jeopardize the continued growth of the world's population, that future births were dependent on an on going supply of spermatozoa. Cora continued with her prayers.
It was a relief for Cora to have her sister with her. She felt huge and awkward but Beth treated her like she was a fragile piece of porcelain, making the last month of her pregnancy a time of bonding that she had only experienced before with her brother Robert.
CHAPTER 2
The first signs of labor began in the early morning hours, when the sky was still dark and most everyone was still asleep. Cora relaxed her hold on her abdomen as the pain from another contraction slowly subsided. She turned her head toward the window where her sister Beth slept in an over-stuffed chair, a paperback book still clutched in her hand, supposedly keeping a watchful eye from across the room.
She watched the curtains stir softly by the opened window and saw drops of moisture as they dripped repeatedly from the window's frame.
"Beth, Beth. Wake up."
Beth quickly opened her eyes and looked at Cora. "What is it? How far apart are they?"
"No, no. I'm fine." She pointed her finger toward the window. "It's raining."
Beth turned to the window and seeing that Cora was indeed correct, she got up and pulled the window closed, except for a small crack for ventilation. She turned back to Cora who appeared both dreamy and sad.
"Do you remember the day we buried Mother?" Cora waited until Beth acknowledged, then continued. "It rained that day, too. I always feel closest to her when it rains." Cora looked past Beth at the darkened window where tiny drops of rain clung to its surface like fragile jewels. "Do you think she can see us?"
Beth did not answer, but instead started to tuck in the sides of Cora's sheet. Cora stopped her with a wave of her hand.
"It's too hot," she grumbled, pulling the sheet loose around her.
"Okay, but I want you to try and get some rest. When your contractions get stronger, you're going to need your strength."
"You never answered my question."
"What question was that?"
"Do you think Mother can see us?"
Beth settled back into the chair and opened her book. "I'm sure I don't know, Cora. I suppose it's possible."
"I hope so." Cora pulled the sheet back and let what little breeze there was cool the perspiration on her skin. She rolled on her side and closed her eyes, but she was still awake when the next contraction sent its tight, sharp pain ripping though her abdomen. She opened her eyes only long enough to see the time, then closed them again and waited for the discomfort to pass.
She was twenty-three and pregnant with a child that would never know its father. Cora had been only two when her own father died from the AMES disease that had infected the world's male population. Her mother had been left alone to raise three children. Cora was the youngest. She had no anxieties about raising a child alone. She didn't remember what it was like to share the world with men. There was a good chance she would never know. She was more concerned with the sex of the child she was about to bare.
Feeling rested from her little nap, Beth picked up her book and continued reading, periodically raising her eyes above the pages to check on Cora. She was in awe of her sister's courage to have a child, knowing that that child might be a boy. She had seen first hand the emotional pain and fear on faces of those who gave birth to a boy.
Beth was six years older than Cora. She vaguely remembered her father but her memories were clouded by the faint recollection of his violent temper combined with a child's feelings of guilt. She remembered the stories her mother had told her of what the world was like when men were alive and in power. Between her reproachful feelings for her father and her mother's irreverence for men in general, Beth felt an ambiguity that she could not confide to Cora. She wondered now herself if their mother could see them and if she would reprimand or praise Beth for the part she played in the destiny of men.
Beth had been twenty-three and away at school, studying to become a doctor when their mother died. Cora at seventeen had just finished high school. It was Cora who called the school to notify Beth of their mother's death. As painful as Eve's death had been for her, it was made even more painful because she had to abandon her plan to become a doctor and move back with Cora in the apartment where they had grown up.
After their mother's funeral, Beth had to face the fact that she would never be able to fulfill her dream. But she was unwilling to abandon the profession entirely, and enrolled in a course offered at Grant Hospital. Eighteen months later she received her certificate as a midwife.
She did not expect this to be a lucrative field. The birth rate had dropped dramatically since the disease, but even without men, there were still some women who continued to fulfill their desire to become mothers. Hiring a midwife became a universal practice.
Cora stirred in her sleep and Beth saw her wince before tightening her hold on her enlarged abdomen, never breaking her slumber. Beth tilted her wrist to check her watch. The time between contractions was narrowing.
She laid her book on the floor and resumed her watch on her sleeping sister, again marveling at her courage to have a child. But Cora had always been the one to take chances. Beth only took those that were well calculated and had a good measure of probability. Beth thought it ironic how risky her new career choice had unwittingly become and wondered if things would have turned out differently if Cora had stayed in school.
After their mother died, Beth had wanted Cora to continue her education, but Cora hated school and wanted just to get on with life. A friend of Cora's, who had quit school after her junior year, told her of a job she could get that paid really good money, had great hours, and offered a little danger for added spice. Beth was dubious, but there was little she could do to stop her. Soon after, Cora began working as a window cleaner.
Beth only allowed Cora to help out with the finances by buying the groceries, even though as an apprentice doing ground work, Cora made good money and nearly doubled her pay once she advanced to high-rise. She wanted Cora to become self-sufficient enough to find a place of her own. The sooner Cora could take care of herself, the sooner Beth could take advantage of an offer that had been given her: an offer that she was unable to discuss with anyone, not even her sister.
By the end of the year, Beth moved to Pennsylvania, knowing that Cora felt secure enough to remain in the apartment she had lived in all her life and had shared with Beth since their mother's death. She told Cora only that she had a better job waiting for her.
Now she was back to help deliver her sister's child. She thought it funny how she saw her sister as the courageous one and yet felt the need to protect her. But her feelings often confused her. She was always seeing both sides to every question; as well as, both sides to every answer.
"Beth," Cora whispered, bringing Beth out of her musings. "I can't sleep any more. The contractions are getting stronger."
Beth moved her chair closer to the bed and took hold of Cora's hand. "I know. I want you to raise your knees. It should help with the contractions."
Cora nodded her head and did as she was told.
"Do you think it's going to be a girl?"
Beth gave Cora's hand a sympathetic pat. "We will find out soon enough."
"I don't know what I'm going to do if it's a boy."
"You'll do the same thing every mother does. You'll give him your love." Beth excused herself and went to the bathroom to scrub in preparation for the birth.
"How are we doing, Cora?" Beth asked as she came back into the room and rested her hand flat on Cora's abdomen, peering beneath the sheet that covered her sister's raised knees.
"We are doing fine," she answered. Her face and neck glistened with perspiration. It was early July and the humidity was unusually high and the rain did nothing to alleviate the problem. "How much longer? The pains are almost back to back and are really quite strong." At that moment another contraction caused Cora to wince and she gripped the edge of the sheet, twisting it as she waited for the pain to pass.
Beth looked up over the sheet at Cora. "I think it's time. On the next contraction, I want you to push." She gave Cora an encouraging smile then disappeared once more behind the draped sheet.
At the first cry of her new born baby, tears ran uncontrollably down Cora's cheeks. She was exhausted but relieved that it was over. She had never felt such pain, not even the time when she was ten and had broken her collar bone while playing football when she tried unsuccessfully to tackle her brother, who happened to be the quarterback. But unlike the broken collar bone, this pain was quickly forgotten at the sound of her child.
"Well?" She asked, becoming anxious at Beth's silence. "Is everything all right?" She shifted nervously on the bed.
"There's nothing wrong with the baby, is there?"
Beth cleared her throat and shook her head. She wrapped the baby in one of the receiving blankets then lay the child in the crook of Cora's arm.
"Congratulations, Cora. You have a beautiful and healthy …" she hesitated for only a second, "baby boy."
Cora lifted her eyes slowly from the baby to meet her sister's gaze. "A boy?" She repeated in a hushed and disbelieving tone. She looked back at her son, who lay sweet and pink within her arm, his tiny face the picture of innocence.
He had thick dark brown hair that was matted and slick. It hung low on his forehead, touching the top of his brows and clung to his head like a bad imitation of Moe from the Three Stooges.
His eyes were closed and as he yawned his miniature pink rosebud mouth formed a perfect oval that tilted to one side.
"He's beautiful, isn't he," Cora said, smiling as she watched her son as he made little sucking motions with his mouth.
Cora found his small pink hand beneath the blanket and his slender elfin fingers curled tightly around her thumb.
"Yes, he is, Cora. He's a beautiful baby." She watched her sister for an adverse reaction to having a boy, but she saw none.
"I guess I can honestly say he doesn't look like me." Cora laughed nervously.
Beth leaned closer and gently tapped the baby's chin. His eyes fluttered opened then closed again. "I think maybe he has your eyes." Later, her statement proved to be wrong.
Cora continued to admire her baby then looked up at her sister, who seemed to be studying the child quite intently. A frown creased Cora's forehead as she stared at Beth.
"Beth?" Cora whispered. "What am I going to do? I don't want to lose my son. I don't want them to take him, like they took Robert. I don't want him to die. I can't go through what Mother went through. I just can't." She reached out with her hand and grabbed Beth's arm, her desperation at last revealing itself in the impressions her fingers made in Beth's arm. "What am I going to do?"
Beth patted her hand reassuringly. "I don't know, Cora, but together we'll think of something." Beth already knew what their plan would be, but she was unsure of how Cora would react. She had never told Cora about the ranch. This was something she would have to confess to her later. Now would not be a good time. "Have you thought about what you're going to name him?" She asked, obvious in her desire to change the subject.
Cora looked down at the sleeping child. "I wasn't expecting a boy. I only picked out a girl's name," she smiled as she looked back up at Beth, "but I guess the name I had picked out will do for either. Frances. I was going to name her Frances." She laughed softly, almost wistfully. "I guess I'll just have to spell it with an I.
"Francis is a beautiful name, but I wouldn't worry about the spelling just yet," Beth said, her tone indicating a hint of mystery.
"No?" Cora looked at her sister. She had such a strange look on her face and seemed to be intently studying her son.
"What is it, Beth?" Cora asked, both frightened and confused.
"What are you thinking about doing?"
Beth did not immediately respond.
He is a pretty baby, Beth thought. It's always easier if we do this right from the beginning. It will take some adjustment, but I know that Cora can handle it.
"Beth...Beth!"
Distracted from her musings, Beth looked from the baby to Cora. She reached out and lifted the baby from the bed, shifting it to one side as she gave her sister a sympathetic pat on her exposed arm.
"We'll discuss this later. Right now you need your rest."
She turned from Cora and walked to the door. She flipped off the light, leaving the room in blue-gray shadows. As she pulled the door closed, she looked back at Cora who lay watching her without protest. "I'll be back later to check on you and for the baby's feeding."
Cora gave her a weak, obedient smile, then rolled onto her side and shut her eyes. Beth pulled the door closed.
As Cora drifted off to sleep, she thought of her son and wondered what the future had in store for him. She wondered if she dared to hope that he would have a future, but the possibility seemed doubtful. The disease that threatened her son's life had been relentless for nineteen years now. She wondered why, after all these years, a cure had never been found. She also wondered how her mother had ever dealt with losing first her husband and then her son to the same disease.
CHAPTER 3
Rudolph Cain's body stiffened and shook violently, and his face, turning a deep crimson, puffed out grotesquely, like a mutant blowfish, as the force of his cough lifted him up off the sweat-stained pillows that were stacked behind his head. His cough had a hoarse, raspy sound, like his throat was being ripped apart. In reflex his wife, Eve, quickly turned her head fearing that at any moment she might see its insides being displayed ghoulishly before her. The sound sickened her and she gagged involuntarily.
More than a year earlier, men all over the world began to suddenly get violently sick and within two or three days die. At first it appeared to strike only the elderly, but then men in their fifties and eventually those as young as their late teens began to die of apparently the same illness. A variety of tests done during post mortem showed no tell-tale signs of abnormality, baffling those at the Centers For Disease Control in Atlanta. As the male doctors and scientists at the center also became infected with the disease, the shortage of qualified female staff members made research more difficult adding panic to an all ready explosive situation. The only thing known was that the disease and that the disease could not be contained since the Centers For Disease Control was a controlled environment and the male staff had been easily infected.
The disease that couldn't be identified, except by the dead bodies it produced, was officially named AMES disease, although the papers—now being run by female staff members—nicknamed it The Mannihilator.
Rudy had come down with the disease two days ago and Eve had dutifully attended to him as best she could. He would be dead soon, like the rest, and although she knew it was wrong for her to want him dead, she did—not because of his suffering but because of hers.
Like many women, Eve had had to endure many years of both physical and emotional abuse from her husband. It was estimated that four to eight million women were victims of what was known as domestic violence each year and that of those almost two thousand were actually killed. In the nine years they had been married, she had done all that she could to escape the terror and pain.
She had even left once, but he had tracked her down and threatened to kill her and their daughter, Beth, if she did not return. She did this reluctantly. Every day in the news there were stories of husbands or boyfriends who had been successful at following through on their threats and the police, even with the new stalker law, were able to do little to stop them.
As with most abusive relationships, things were good for a while. Rudy couldn't have been sweeter. He often brought her flowers or took her out to dinner. He even helped around the house. Of course those times seemed to coincide with the nights he failed to come home after being out with the boys. Then three months after she returned, she found out she was pregnant and once again she was subjected to Rudy's volatile moods.
Beth was only three and because Eve hadn't gotten pregnant before this, even though Rudy refused to let her use birth control, he accused her of sleeping around. Then he beat the hell out of her. She miscarried that same night. Rudy became so suspicious of Eve that he barely let her out to shop for groceries, except that he thought that a woman's job and beneath him. Whenever she shopped he would time her and if she were late, he made sure she regretted it.
Eve became his prisoner until two years later, she once again became pregnant. This time it was difficult for him to deny the child as his. After his son, Robert, was born, he continued to maintain strict control over Eve's life, but at least he allowed her freer passage. Cora was born a year later and by the time she was two, the dreadful disease, that now offered Eve the escape she had been unable to provide for herself, had already killed more than two thirds of the world's male population.
Eve turned back to her husband, who now lay silent, except for his harsh breathing. His face, no longer crimson, had begun to fade back to the color of Georgia clay, which Eve had seen when she and her mother had driven through Georgia on the way to see Disney World after her high school graduation a year before she met and married Rudy. He had been a real looker back then.
Six years older than Eve and a construction worker when they met, he had whistled at her as she walked past the sight where he was working. Instead of ignoring him, he was surprised when she stopped. He ended up with her phone number and called later that same night. Through the years as his temper worsened and he began to drink more heavily, he changed jobs more and more frequently, though they were always ones that kept him outdoors. In spite of his bad habits, he managed to continue to find work and to keep his rugged good looks … until now.
Now he was so pathetic, it was hard for her to believe that she had ever loved him or his looks. He rolled his eyes in her direction, his head a weight that refused to move without the turbulent help of the offending cough. They were red-rimmed and coated with dried mucus that crusted his lashes like dried leaves caught on the prongs of a rake, and they bulged from their sockets as though straining to break free from those glue-laden cavities.
Rudy reached his hand out from under the rumpled blankets in what appeared to be a loving gesture. Reluctantly, Eve took hold.
His hand was skeletal and cold. Eve could feel the bones beneath his thinning skin. This hand that used to have the power to choke the breath from her now could not return her grasp. It lay still and limp within her own. In a throaty whisper, Rudy asked to see his children. Eve hesitated to comply, not wanting them to see this gross imitation of their father, but decided it would have been cruel to the children to deny them the chance to see their father one last time before he died.
She removed her hand from his and walked silently from the room. The house was unnaturally quiet for one that housed three small children, but Eve knew that Beth was responsible for the peaceful facade. Being the oldest, she was well trained at trying to control an uncontrollable situation; her father's rages had taught her that. Although Rudy had never physically attacked his children, he had used his threat to inflict harm as his weapon to get what he wanted.
Eve walked to the living room, expecting to see her children sitting in front of the television watching cartoons on low volume, but the room was empty. The early morning sun filtering through the lace sheers gave evidence to the absence of recent use. Eve ran her hand over the top of the secretary that her mother had brought from England and had given to Eve when she married Rudy. Her hand left a clean streak, revealing polished wood below the thin layer of dust. When this was over and Rudy was dead, she would never again allow the needs of someone else to hide the radiance she felt within herself or her children.
She left the living room feeling a renewed sense of anticipation. She opened the door to the children's room to find Beth sitting in the worn and battered oak rocking chair. Robert and Cora lay sprawled on the floor in front of her, mesmerized by the story she was reading aloud to them. Beth looked up briefly then continued to read to the end of the page. The little ones were oblivious to their mother's presence until Beth had stopped reading. Only then did they turn around and squealed with delight as they scrambled from the floor and ran to her side, throwing their tiny arms around her legs in an embrace.
"Your father would like to see you," she said in a dry, matter-of-fact tone.
"Is Daddy going to die?" Beth asked.
"What's die?" Robert chirped, pulling on the hem of Eve's skirt and looking up at her with eyes that sparkled and laughed, further indicating his lack of understanding the word's meaning.
"It means your daddy is going to go away for a long, long time," She answered, pushing his unruly blond hair back off his forehead. "Now come along."
Eve bent and lifted Cora to her arms and grabbing Robert's hand turned and headed back to the darkened room where their father lay. Beth followed, though she wasn't quite sure she wanted to go. She sometimes hated her father and she had often wished he were dead, but there was another part of her that felt guilty for these feelings and was sure it was because of her that he was sick. She knew that other fathers were also dying. Her friend, Alice, had cried for hours when her father died last year. But because Beth had so many mixed feelings about her father, she couldn't quite separate those feelings from what was happening to him now and she wasn't sure she could face him.
Eve opened the door and walked to the bed where Rudy lay. His eyes were closed, and if not for the horrid sound of his labored breathing, his rigid repose made him appear to have already passed. Eve lowered Cora to the chair and reached around for Robert, who had taken refuge behind her skirt. Beth remained at the door, her small, chubby hands clutched nervously at her side.
The curtains were drawn and the only light was that of a small bedside lamp that gave off a glow of such low intensity that the room was a dreary mixture of black and gray. The room smelled sour, a combination a sweat and disinfectant. She tried to see beyond the gloomy shadows to where her family was gathered by her father's bed, but the room became a blur as the first of her tears began to fall.
Eve turned and motioned for her to come in, but she shook her head no. Eve did not rebuff her but merely turned back to the bed and reached out and gently touched her husband's shoulder. His eyes fluttered but did not immediately open as he struggled to release them from their gluey restraints. When at last he freed them, they popped opened with the unexpected suddenness of a springed clown from a Jack-in-the-box, causing both younger children to jump. They stared in amazed silence at this man who no longer resembled the father they knew.
"Where's Beth?" Rudy croaked.
Eve stepped to the side, revealing the eldest of Rudy's children as she stood resolutely by the door. When Eve's gesture for Beth to come in went unheeded, she stepped away from her husband's bed and taking her daughter's hand, led her into the room and to Rudy's side.
Beth's look was strained and her face was streaked with tears that continued to roll silently down her flushed cheeks. Rudy reached out to her. Beth took a step backward out of his reach. She looked up at her mother, her face pleading to be excused, but Eve only shook her head and nudged Beth back toward her father's pale, emaciated hand. When she held it, it felt like she was holding a stalk of rotting celery: limp, cool and slick with age. For the first time she looked over at her father. His sickly gaze met hers and he smiled. Suddenly, she could no longer stand it. She let go of his hand, turned and before Eve could stop her, raced from the room.
Where his smile should have alleviated her feelings of guilt, instead they only made her feel more responsible. It was as though her father had been the type that she had dreamed about and that the real one, the one who was cruel and manipulating and accusing, had become the one of her dreams, which she had only made up this hateful man so that she could excuse her own hateful thoughts. She had been a terrible daughter. She could see now that she could have been better, like he wanted her to be.
She ran to her room and threw herself onto her bed and curled her knees to her chest. Her tears flowed harder now. She hated herself for being so unfair and now she'd never have the chance to make it up to him. She rolled onto her back, then took her fists and beat herself in the stomach. She wanted to hurt herself as much as she had hurt him.
"What are you doing, Beth?" Eve rushed over and pulled her daughter into her arms.
"It's … my … fault," Beth said between sobs. "If … if I had been … a b-better girl … Daddy would be all right."
"That's not true, Beth," her mother said, stroking her honey-blond hair. "You mustn't blame yourself. You've been a good daughter. You always did your best. Daddy didn't always make it easy for you. He didn't make it easy for any of us." She pulled back from the embrace, smoothed Beth's hair from her face, and taking a tissue from the box on the night stand, patted the tears from under her eyes.
Beth would not be considered a pretty girl but Eve could tell that someday she would be a very striking woman. Maybe not beautiful, her face was a little too round and her eyes, although a beautiful shade of brown, pulled down at the corners, making her look like she was always unhappy. Her biggest flaw was her weight. Food was Beth's solace and as Rudy's oldest child, she often needed the comfort that Eve had not been allowed to give.
"Leave her alone. She'll get over it," Rudy had always demanded.
Eve had often ignored his wishes, but in the end, if caught, her going to Beth made things worse for both of them. Eve would get a beating and Beth would be either bullied or ignored for days. Beth's beauty was going to be her brains and her ability to handle difficult situations. She was going to be strong and powerful. Even though she couldn't see it now, at age eight, Beth had actually been able to handle her father very well.
"Beth, I know how you feel. Believe me I do. But if you don't go back and see your father, you'll regret it later, when you're older. Your father's dying because of a disease. It's not anyone's fault—not yours or his." She gave Beth another big hug, then got up from the bed. Looking at her, Eve felt a pang of guilt. She did indeed know how Beth felt. "The choice is yours, but there isn't much time left." She bent and kissed the top of her head, then left her to make her own decision.
Beth watched her mother leave but made no effort to follow. She wondered why her mother had said that she would someday regret not going to her father. Deep down she knew she was not to blame for his illness, but if not her then who? And if she went to him, what could she say? She knew she would be lying if she said that she would miss him. She had wanted to see him dead too many times to believe that. That was the whole problem. She had wanted him dead and now she was getting what she had asked for.
What if he wanted to kiss her good-bye? She remembered the touch of his hand earlier and a shiver ran down her spine. She could never let that sick man kiss her. Going back in that room would only make things worse. Her mother couldn't be right. She would never regret not going back.
Beth leaned back against the wooden headboard and pulled her pillow to her. She hugged it close, kissed the top of its lace-edged pillow case, and whispered sadly, “Good-bye, Daddy."
CHAPTER 4
"You know, child," Helen said, leaning forward, her head bent so that her eyes seemed to be trying to peer through her graying eyebrows that were full and undisciplined from lack of attention. "You could do much better than working as a sales girl in some department store."
"But it's what I want to do." Eve insisted.
Rudy had been dead for a little more than a week, and in that time it seemed to Eve that she had seen more of her neighbor than she had since moving in seven years ago. Rudy had always discouraged any friendships Eve might have wanted to make and Eve found it made her life with him easier if she complied.
Now after having been isolated for so long, the times she and Helen spent together just talking proved to be a great comfort to Eve, although they seemed to stay clear of the subject of her late husband.
Eve's mother had died a year after Beth was born and Helen, being close to Eve's mother in age, was like having a second mother to talk to. She really appreciated Helen's attention and encouragement, but on this one point, Eve seemed unable to make her understand.
"I only have a high school education, Helen. No special skills. And being around the beautiful clothes that Rudy never allowed me to have just seems to be the perfect choice."
With her mouth pursed, Helen held her index finger up in front of her face and moved it back and forth in the opposite direction of her shaking head. "That's not the point. Don't you see that now is the time that you can really be anything you want to be? There are a billion businesses out there who are in desperate need of help and are willing to train anyone who wants to learn. At this point in time, they don't care how much training you have now. They're interested in your potential so that they can keep their own heads afloat. You have the chance to really make something of yourself. To have a future."
"But I don't care about making something for myself. All I care about is the freedom to do what I want, and working in a department store, being around beautiful clothes is what I want."
Helen let out a sigh of defeat. "All right, dear. I won't argue with you further. Let's change the subject. How are the children taking their father's death?"
Eve told her that the two younger ones, Robert and Cora, seemed unaffected, but that Beth, who was eight and old enough to be toughed by the loss, was putting up a strong front by acting as though nothing had changed, although Eve could tell she was more sullen than usual.
Throughout the rest of the conversation, Eve, without saying so, did consider the other work options open to her. A part of her wished that she had the courage and confidence to do as Helen suggested and try for something more challenging than sales clerk. But the truth was she was afraid of facing the future without someone there to take care of her and her children should she fail. Working in a department store seemed like a safe bet. Besides, she really did like the idea of being around all those beautiful dresses she had been denied all these years and she knew she would get an employee discount and maybe be able to buy a few for herself.
Eve decided to leave the challenge of entrepreneur to her children. The money from Rudy's insurance, coupled with what she made, should insure them an adequate education for whatever they wanted to be. That was assuming that women could prevail in a world without men. So far, it seemed to Eve that they had done a remarkable job.
The world had had more than a year of panic that had been caused by the disease which although named was still unidentifiable and therefore incurable. Once the initial shock had passed, those women already in powerful positions—regardless of how limited—began to take control of the situation as best they could. For a while, the mad scramble for political positions made vacant caused global chaos, but eventually the world settled into a kind of appearance of normality. The few women who were experienced at political rhetoric were well aware of how to smooth over rough situations and were able to calm the general public to a certain extent.
To maintain data and the control of the disease, a system of operation was set up. All men who were all ready infected were to report to the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta (CDC). From there they were reassigned to a remote location for the duration of their illness, which always culminated in death. Men and boys above the age of sixteen who were not infected were to report to local chapters of the CDC which had been set up in major cities around the world. Boys between the ages of twelve and sixteen were to report to their local hospital for physical inspections. Boys under the age of twelve appeared to be immune, possibly because of biological factors. Girls who turned twelve also had to report for physicals to insure that the disease was still confined to the male population. The girls usually returned home the following day, while the boys; well, the boys never came home.
It was a terrible time for most. Women lost husbands and fathers and brothers and their loss made the world a sadder place. Everyone empathized, but some refused to sit back and let the world just come to an end. These few were the women who decided to take control of the situation and make it work for them instead of against them.
These were the women who took over the positions held by men. Wives, who were unwilling to allow their husband's work to go to seed, took over the family business. Women all over the world jockeyed for the corporate positions heretofore made unavailable to them. The employment index rose to unheard of heights. Unskilled workers became skilled as a sisterly mentorship emerged like a rainbow after a violent storm.
For the first time, women were encouraged as well as assisted in reaching their full potential. The strong and the determined continued to mourn but were reluctant to sit back and die along with their men. To some, a horrible situation had become the catalysis to their rise to power.
After Rudy died, Eve was faced with the choice of trying to live off his meager life insurance policy for as long as possible or immediately find employment, allowing her to put aside the insurance money for her children's future. She opted for the latter and after spending a couple of weeks getting things in order around the house, she began looking over the classifieds in hopes of finding what she wanted.
Although she found several department stores advertising for help, she finally decided to apply for a job in the women's wear department at Penneys. It was not a glamorous position, and she again considered Helen's suggestion and wondered if maybe she should try for something more challenging. But she had always loved clothes and now that she was at last free to do as she pleased, she was going to take full advantage of her new found liberty, regardless of the other opportunities available. After all, there was no shame in helping other women with their purchases. It seemed to Eve that it was just as important as any so-called professional trade.
Her biggest problem was going to be finding a suitable sitter for her children. But this turned out to be easier than she thought it would be, when she discussed her decision with Helen.
"I think I've found the job I want, Helen, but there are so many things I want to do. I swear I don't know where to begin," Eve said breathlessly over coffee with Helen.
"That's perfectly understandable after living with Rudy all these years. I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I saw the way he treated you. My husband, Joe, God rest his soul, wanted to come over and knock some sense into him so many times I can't tell you." She took another sip of coffee to moisten her mouth. "But I told him he'd only make it worse for you if he did."
"You're right, it would have." Eve swallowed hard. "I didn't realize you knew," she said, the embarrassment showing in her voice.
"Oh, hell, everybody knew. How could we not know? That man's voice when he was mad could wake the dead. And we saw the bruises." Helen saw the astonished look on Eve's face. Clearing her throat and taking another sip of coffee she continued. "Don't let it throw you now. Hell, that's all over. Why worry about spilt milk I always say." She stopped for a moment, as though considering her words. "What am I talking about? I never say that."
Eve laughed. "Helen, I really wished we could have gotten to know each other sooner. It's been a long time since I really felt like laughing."
Helen's expression showed her pleasure of Eve's response.
Eve's own expression was wistful. Helen was so much like her own mother and her attitude easily conveyed her feelings that she thought of Eve as another one of her daughters.
She had three. And although she spoke of wanting the best for her own girls, she quickly conveyed her feelings that she thought Eve deserved something good in her life after putting up with that awful Rudy for all these years. Her own husband Joe, Helen had described as being a dear man.
He was ten years her senior and had always treated Helen and their three girls like they were royalty. When the disease broke out, he was in his late sixties and one of the first to go. If it hadn't been for her girls needing her, she might have wanted to die, too. But Joe had left her with so many lovely memories, unlike poor Eve. It was inevitable that Helen would reach out to her. Helen was the type who felt that love should be spread around, and Joe would have wanted her to share her blessings with others.
"So just what is it you want to do that you don't know where to begin?"
"I told you. I found the job I want. It's at Penneys. Everyone is desperate for help, but I've always thought Penneys to be one of the few places that were not only fashionable but reasonable. Not to mention, I married Rudy right after high school and he never let me buy anything that wasn't absolutely necessary. I'll be able to get my clothes at a discount."
"I still think you may be selling yourself a little bit short, but I'm not going to go into that again." Helen heard the excitement in Eve's voice, and she hoping her counsel would not deter her friend's enthusiasm, she quickly added, "If working at Penneys is what you want to do, what's stopping you?"
"I have to find someone to watch the babies. Beth could do it after school, but I'm afraid a two and three year old may be too much for her on a full time basis. I'd really prefer to work days, but I'm sure there will be times I have to work evenings. The kids need me with them now. It wouldn't be fair, and I wouldn't want to leave them alone at night."
"So what's the problem?"
"I don't have the vaguest idea where to begin to look."
Helen loudly cleared her throat, and when she got no immediate reaction from Eve, she cleared it again.
"Are you okay?"
The woman looked well, but Eve knew she had to be at least in her fifties. Her own mother had died so suddenly that Eve was immediately concerned.
Helen had extremely short brown hair that looked like someone had painted every third or forth strand with silver paint and lay in soft curls that framed her pleasantly round face. Below thick, irregular eyebrows and nestled in faint lines of age, her eyes, the faded brown color of driftwood sprinkled with flecks of green, seemed to light up her whole face.
"Eve, I'm fine, but you're looking at the solution to your problem."
"Excuse me?" Eve was relieved that she was fine, but was taken by surprise by her last remark.
"I would love to watch your children for you. My girls are all grown. Well, except for Alice. She's in your girl's class at school. Did you know that?"
"Yes, yes, I did. Beth talks about her quite often. I gather they're good friends from the way Beth talks about her."
"Yes, I think so, too. Anyway, my two oldest work all day, and Alice she's at school, and an old woman like me gets kind of lonely." She could see by the look on Eve's face that she was interested. "I would simply love to watch your babies for you. If that's okay. You'd be doing me a big favor."