“No,” she agreed. “We are an artificial family. A pretend family. We won’t send you away until you want to go.”
Thus was another decision made. “We’ll go back to Pariah as a family,” Abner said. “We will stay together.”
Both children relaxed visibly. They had feared being isolated again. Then Dreda came to hug Abner, and Clark hugged Bunty. Abner discovered to his surprise that he was just as relieved as the children were. He dreaded the prospect of being alone with his grief, and this kept him from that.
Bunty set about preparing them for a residence in what had been Jasper’s room. Abner sat heavily on the couch, unwinding, continuing his thought. They had become an impromptu family, and he was not dismayed. The children filled a raw hole in his life, as did Bunty. In fact a significant part of it was that this meant that Bunty would remain here indefinitely, playing the role of wife and mother. Running the household, keeping things in order, being company. Giving him sex. He felt guilty acknowledging it, but he did crave it. All of it. Maybe he was in a state of rebound, not just in love, but in the whole family. Still, it felt right.
Bunty and the children reappeared. Clark was dressed in Jasper’s clothes, which fit well, they being the same age. Dreda wore more of Jasper’s clothes, cinched to fit her smaller frame. Abner looked askance.
“Two things,” Bunty said briskly. “Your little girl was three, and Dreda is five, so she’s too big for that clothing. And yours was the sopath. We don’t want to touch her things.”
Poison. He had to agree. Abner spread his hands. “Of course. You can take Dreda shopping for her own things.”
“This afternoon,” Bunty agreed. Then she paused. “I will have to borrow some money.”
Because she had nothing. “We’ll all go. I’ll pay for anything we need. Tomorrow we’ll see about getting your ID restored so you can function on your own.”
“Thank you.”
It was in one sense an entirely typical family afternoon with two parents seeing to the needs of two children. In another sense it was refreshingly strange, as the four of them integrated despite their disparate origins. All he had to do was follow Bunty’s cues. Abner really appreciated it.
Things ran late, so they stopped at a fast food place for dinner. It was fun.
That night, the children safely in bed, Bunty embraced him and kissed him ardently. “You were wonderful!”
“You were the wonderful one,” he said. “You handled everything.”
“You supported me completely, and I don’t mean just monetarily. You gave me legitimacy.”
“You are legitimate.”
“I’m a lost woman you took in. Then you let me take in the children. You have been more than kind.”
He was embarrassed by her gratitude. “Well, you flashed me with your legs. What else could I do?”
“Shut up.” She wrapped those legs about him, and they were in the throes of fantastic sex.
“Seriously,” she said when it abated. “Can you afford all this? We spent a fair amount of money today, and it promises to continue.”
“I have a good job. As long as I keep that, I can afford it.”
“You will keep it,” she said firmly. “But about the children: you know we can’t just throw them back into the water. You and I alone could have split up the moment I got my identity back. But when we took them in, it became more complicated. You had to know that.”
“I did know that. But their need was dire. And you—Bunty, I know we agreed not to speak of love, and it will be some time before we come to terms emotionally with our dreadful losses. But I seem to be in the process of rebounding rapidly, and already I care for you more than I should. The children in effect lock you in, and I think that’s what I want.”
“Romeo and Juliet.”
“What?”
“Romeo had just lost his love when he met Juliet. It was rebound.”
“And they died!”
“But we don’t have to. My point is that rebound love is no shame. We have a lot of emotion in flux. We’ll never get our original loves back, so we can afford to let it take us.”
“But you explained how cynically you played me from the start, to secure your welfare for the moment. Where is your true emotion, Bunty?”
“I did play you,” she agreed. “But now I’m looking beyond the moment, and you remain an excellent prospect. I’m in rebound too, Abner. It may not be real, but it feels like nascent love. I won’t fight it if you don’t. Planned love can work just as well as random love, perhaps better. I think we can make it together. This afternoon was confirmation.”
“So you do feel for me.”
“I do. I’ve always been honest with you, and I am being honest now.”
It was a confirmation he had desperately needed. “You are about due for your collapse. May I join you in that?”
“Oh, yes.”
They lay embraced, and both broke into sobs of grief. It was weirdly refreshing.
And there were the children standing by the bed, alarmed. They had heard the sobbing and came to investigate, being excruciatingly sensitive to family mischief. What could they have thought was happening? That the adults were fighting each other?
“We were making love, the way your parents did,” Bunty told them. “That’s why we’re bare. But then we remembered.”
Abner made a decision. “Just for this hour, join us,” he said. “We are crying for our lost families. You lost yours too. Cry with us. It’s okay to cry. We all need to express our grief.”
The two climbed onto the bed and accepted the nude embraces, pretending not to notice that aspect. They cried with abandon. All of them cried together, supporting each other in this too. It didn’t mean that they didn’t value their new family, just that they had formidable residual issues to work out emotionally. The fact that they could openly do this surely contributed significantly to their ability to cope.
And Abner, lying there with his arms around the other three, knew that they would never separate as a family.
*
In the morning they went to the administrative offices to see about Bunty’s identity. The authorities understood about sopath mischief and facilitated the process, and Bunty emerged with temporary ID that would serve while the wheels ground more slowly for the rest. She wasn’t destitute; she was the inheritor of her husband’s estate, once it clarified.
“And we need to register the children for school and preschool,” Bunty said.
Abner hoped it would be that simple.
“They’re not yours,” the official pointed out.
“Sopaths. We’re an ad hoc temporary family.”
“They won’t take them. The paperwork’s not in order.” He held up his hand to forestall her protest. “I know. It’s a pretext. They won’t take any sopath survivors. They will stall indefinitely. There’s a bias, unofficial but powerful. They think those children are killers. You will have to make other arrangements.”
“Demonizing the victims,” Abner said.
“The new racism,” Bunty muttered.
“I didn’t say it,” the man said, nodding affirmatively. He sympathized, but had given them the reality.
Bunty’s mouth was thin as they left the office. “I want to try the schools directly.”
Abner shrugged. She had her way of doing things, and he liked her initiative, even if at times it seemed futile.
They went to the grade school Jasper had attended. Classes were changing and the hall was thronged with children.
Dreda clung to Abner’s leg, whimpering. He picked her up. “What’s the matter, honey?”
“Sopaths,” she whispered in his ear.
He froze. “Sopaths here?”
“Two.” She shrank again. “Three.”
Bunty, overhearing, took Clark’s hand. “True?”
“Yes,” the boy said.
“You can tell just by looking?”
Both children nodded. It seemed they had become super-sensi
tized, and were able to see what the adults did not.
“Let’s get out of here,” Bunty said grimly.
Abner agreed. If sopaths were in the regular classes, there would be real mischief soon enough, and it was better to be well clear of it.
“How do you know?” Bunty asked the children as they emerged from the building.
“I can feel their souls,” Dreda said. “Same as my folks had, and my brother didn’t. Same as you do.”
Bunty looked at Clark. “You too?”
“Yes. Souls are sort of soft and nice. Kids who don’t have them are bare.”
Bunty glanced at Abner. “It must be something a child can tune in to, like learning language. Especially when there’s a bad experience with a sopath.”
“Yes,” Dreda said. “Daddy has a really strong nice soul. It makes me want to be close.”
Abner was startled. He had a strong soul?
“There is a masculine magnetism about you, Abner,” Bunty said. “I felt it from the outset. It must be the reason for women’s attraction to you.”
Abner didn’t comment. But it would indeed explain a lot.
“What can we do?” Abner asked when they were back in the car. “Children are required to be schooled.”
“But those sopaths are like bombs waiting to destroy their classes.”
“I know. But what alternative do we have?” Then he answered his own question. “Homeschooling.”
“But I would have to do it,” Bunty protested. “You have to keep your job.”
“True. You can handle it.”
“But I told you I’m not smart. I was a grade C student throughout, sometimes by courtesy. I could never be a teacher.”
“Sure you can,” Clark said confidently. “Teachers don’t have to be smart, just tough.” He had been in first grade, so knew the score.
“He’s right,” Abner said. “You just need to be able to handle children, which you obviously can, and the school routine, which you can keep simple. You’ll have books for guidance and information.”
“But I’m not qualified. It takes years to get a college degree and a teaching certificate, and I never went beyond high school.”
“Homeschooling has different standards,” Abner said. “I believe parents are automatically qualified. I’ll bet the authorities will be only too glad to let us do it, because they don’t want to be bothered with sopath survivor children anyway, as we have discovered.”
“Do it mommy,” Dreda pleaded. “Please.”
Bunty worked it out. “I’m not a teacher, but I can learn. I can get books from the library to start.”
Abner took her hand, quietly supporting her. She squeezed his fingers appreciatively. They had come to another key decision.
In the afternoon they went to Sylvia’s house, where a regular Pariah meeting was scheduled. “I believe I have found placements for the children,” Sylvia said as they entered.
The children clung close to Abner and Bunty. “No,” Abner said.
“We’re a family,” Bunty added. “We are staying together.”
“They’ll homeschool us,” Clark said proudly.
Sylvia considered, evidently not entirely surprised. “You’re making a family unit.”
“We are,” Abner said. “We like each other.”
“I must confirm,” Sylvia said, nodding. “A necessary formality.” She faced Abner. “Do you, Abner, take this woman and these children to be your pro-tem family?”
He liked this formality. “I do.”
“Do you, Bunty, take this man and these children ?”
Bunty seemed similarly satisfied. “I do.”
“Do you, Clark, take this man and this woman as your for-now parents?”
“I do,” Clark said formally, but he was plainly nervous, as if afraid it would all puff away in a moment.
“Do you, Dreda, take this man and woman as your for-now parents?”
“I do.” There were tears in the girl’s eyes, not of grief but of eagerness.
“And do you two children take each other as siblings?”
“We do,” the children said almost together.
“Then by the informal authority of my position with Pariah, before these witnesses, recognizing your mutual need and desire, I declare you to be an ad hoc family. The authorities will not question this.”
Abner and Bunty picked up the children and hugged them and each other. The association had hardly been a day and night, but already it seemed hugely significant.
The assembled survivors broke into applause. They understood. It was not a legal family, but it was real. That was what counted.
But there was further business. “The schools won’t take the children,” Bunty said. “So we want to homeschool them.”
“We’re setting up a Pariah charter school here,” Sylvia said. “The authorities are quietly facilitating it, providing financing so we can pay teachers. They appreciate our taking the children off their hands. You can homeschool them if you prefer, but this should be easier.”
“Would it be all right if I taught them at the school?” Bunty asked. “I’m really not qualified, but I think I’d like to try.”
“You’re Pariah-qualified,” Sylvia said. “You can be our first teacher. We can do it at your house, to start.”
“Yes!” Clark and Dreda said almost together.
“Right now it will be just your own kids. But we have the paperwork for the charter school in motion.”
“Good enough,” Abner said, gratified. He had seen how the police handled sopath survivors, so this was perhaps not surprising. There were an increasing number of sopaths, which meant ever-more victims, and it was surely a problem.
They returned home. “Tomorrow you can return to your job,” Bunty said. “I will keep the household running. I’ll check the library. You will have to let me use the car. I have my temporary license now.”
She would handle all the routine chores. “Thank you.” He meant it.
“Thank you. You have given us all a home.”
“You have made the family.” They kissed.
“Oh, yuck,” Clark muttered.
“Maybe you can do that stuff privately,” Dreda suggested diplomatically.
Then they all laughed.
*
It was another great night. “We’re married now,” Bunty said. “Informally, in law and emotion, but it’s real in what matters. We should celebrate.”
“The wedding night,” he agreed.
“Two days ago we had completely different lives. Then came the horror. It’s as though we are sealing off those old situations and starting fresh, like amnesiacs, only we haven’t forgotten.”
“We’ll never forget.”
“I don’t feel free to say the L word, but maybe I’m feeling it.”
The L word: Love. It was impossible, this soon, but he felt it too. Their hellish experience had shaken them loose from the old ties and made them ready for new ones. “I suspect it is in our future.”
“Our near future, dear.” She kissed him passionately.
The sex was if anything even better than it had been on prior nights. Bunty was completely released, participating with abandon.
And when it was done, the children were there for the crying session. It seemed it had become an instant tradition. They had to have been listening, waiting for their turn. Well, they were entitled. It was so much better to have love in the family, than mere convenience.
Next morning Bunty and the children dropped Abner off at work, then headed for the library. Abner fit comfortably back into his familiar routine. No one asked any questions, perhaps fearing the answers. It was enough that he was functioning normally. And he was, thanks to Bunty.
He fought against the thought, but the case was increasingly persuasive: Bunty was just as good a wife as Zelda had been. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with Zelda, or that he didn’t love her. Bunty was dynamic, a leader, taking him in new directions. And the children�
�weren’t sopaths.
The family picked him up at the end of the work day. The children were full of news. “We learned about numbers!” Clark said. “I can add three and three!”
“Good for you,” Abner agreed.
“And we painted,” Dreda said. “I made a duck.”
“Wonderful,” Abner said, meaning it. Because it meant not only that they were learning, and enthusiastic about it, but that Bunty was successful as a teacher. That meant in turn that they would be able to keep the children out of the public schools, avoiding the sopaths.
Things settled in. They attended Pariah meetings regularly, partly to stay in touch, partly to show off their successful integration as a family. Then Sylvia broached the subject to them. “You’re homeschooling for now.”
“Yes,” Abner said. “Bunty is doing a good job of it, too.”
“Our application for the charter school is still tied up in bureaucratic paperwork,” Sylvia said. “There are other children in need of schooling, and they need it now. They can’t get into the regular schools, and many don’t want to.”
“There are sopaths there,” Abner agreed. “The children can spot them more readily than adults can.”
“Exactly. The schools have it backwards, rejecting survivors while unwittingly accepting sopaths and refusing to admit their error. It’s bureaucratic idiocy, but we’re stuck with it. And of course most survivors don’t want to put their children at further risk.”
“We understand perfectly,” Abner said.
“Can you school more children at your house?” Sylvia asked Bunty.
“I’m really not a teacher. I have no certificate, no credits. I just got books from the library, and followed their guidance.”
“You are a teacher,” Sylvia said. “In the same way you’re part of a family. It seems you have the touch. I can get immediate authorization for a temporary interim de facto charter school. It won’t be official until the paperwork is done, but it can function. The survivor children need you.”
Abner saw Bunty wavering. “How many are we talking about?” he asked.
“Six. At the moment.”
Abner looked at Bunty. She spread her hands. “I can try. If it’s okay with our children.”
Clark and Dreda were enthusiastic. “Our own school!” Clark said. “With mom the teacher.”
The Sopaths Page 5