He smiled a little.
“I’ll handle the child as I have everything else,” she said. “But there’s meaning in bringing life to the world. I have no idea how they might react.”
“The nymphs and satyrs should be kind to innocents,” he said. “The bacchae won’t be, but I can make arrangements.”
“I can’t imagine bringing a little girl up in this environment.
“If it is a little girl,” he said.
She went quiet.
“I do know the trick your family employs,” he said.
She frowned. “Sorry.”
“It’s fairly common knowledge now. Even as disconnected from things as I am, I know that much. Ask for custodianship of the girls, ignoring the fact that you intend to bear nothing but.”
“I might have mentioned it, but-”
“No,” he said. “There was no need. That’s not what we have.”
“Openness and honesty?”
“Having to ask for forgiveness,” he said. “I trust you do what you have to, and I think you trust me the same way.”
Sandra nodded. She fidgeted. “Gods, the idea of childbirth scares me.”
“I can imagine,” he said. “If it helps, a blessing from my god can allow you to enjoy drink throughout, with no harm to the child.”
“Through the labor too?” she asked, smiling.
“Of course,” he said.
“We’ll need to make space,” she said. “As nice as your… personal temple is, we’ll need a more suitable location for a baby.”
“That can be arranged,” he said. He stood.
He took her hand, and led her down the shallow steps. Together, they stepped over and around the piles of naked bodies.
“What about names?” Sandra asked.
A whisper. “A boy’s name.”
Sandra stopped cold. She turned and saw a nymph reclining, a lazy, sleepy smile on her face.
“What?”
“A baby boy,” the nymph said. “Swimming in warm darkness.”
“Not possible,” Sandra said.
But when she looked, Jerry wouldn’t meet her eyes. He stared down at the floor. Not guilty, but lost in deep thought.
She let go of his hand.
“How?” she asked.
“My god is a god of drink, of madness, of hedonism and sex,” he said. “And he is a god of fertility, in his way.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I suppose that wins out over the working your family has crafted,” he said.
“No,” she said. She reached out, clutching him. “Undo it.”
“It’s done,” he said. “And it will no doubt be done over and over again, should we make the attempt. My god’s will, it seems.”
“You know they won’t let me keep it. One boy, and the line is broken, the working unravels.”
He nodded. When he stepped away, she could feel the gulf between them widening.
“I don’t-” she said.
“My god and his brethren are fond of their tragedies,” he said.
■
“Hello?”
“I wasn’t sure if your cell phone would still be in service.”
“Always. It’s been a long time, Sandra. Five years?”
“Seven.”
“Seven years. You only call when you need something, these days.”
“I wish it were different, but-“
“But it’s what it is,” he said. “No asking for forgiveness. We do what we must. It was a fragile connection, and it broke.”
There was a long pause, as the two of them wrestled with the irony of their reality.
“Someone’s coming your way. You’ll know him when you see him.”
“What do you want done?”
“I need him to not come back.”
“I’ll see to it.”
4.01
“We’re nearly there, Mr. Thorburn.”
I startled awake.
My heart rate had jumped into high gear with the sudden voice, the realization of where I was and what I was doing kept it going at the same pace.
“Do you have any questions, Mr. Thorburn?” my driver asked me. He was a thirty-something man with a stylish, tidy haircut and a nice suit that fit him well. He hadn’t said a word from the moment he’d shown up with the car, bags situated in the back seat with a new set of boots, three changes of clothes, a jacket, and a bag of toiletries.
I hadn’t asked how they knew my boot or shirt size, the waist and leg measurements for the jeans, or my brand of shaving cream. I was happy in my ignorance, right now. Happy to have nice boots on and know that the rubber boots I’d ‘borrowed’ were on their way back to the owner.
I tried to get my brain into gear. I was tired, and my body was now apparently trying to get what it needed by force. I was ravenous, my emotions more raw, and slumber had crept over me with a surprising speed and very little fight from me. My head ached where I’d pressed it too hard against the window of the car as I’d slept.