“When?”
“She coincidentally gets pregnant not long after she’s thinking about leaving, and the group decides for her, that she should stay with us.”
“Can you quiet down?” he asked. “We can have this discussion, but let’s not make it-“
“Fuck that,” I said.
He reached for my shoulder, to steer me in a different direction, or to give me a push.
I flinched, pulling back, fist clenched.
“Woah,” he said.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t,” I hissed.
“This is coming out of nowhere, Blake.”
“No, it’s really not,” I said. I didn’t unclench my fist. “You’ve led us around by our groins, you give us all this work to do and just barely enough food, you make us dependent on you, because you’re the one with the plan, the car, the ideas, the money, five or ten years of age on any of us.”
“What are you saying?” he asked.
“I’m saying just that,” I said. “That you’ve got this damn dream, and you’re twisting us all around in really subtle ways that make it really hard to point to any one thing. But somehow, on the days I don’t play ball or join the herd, there’s less food, less conversation, less… I feel sick saying it, less girls.”
“That’s crazy,” he said.
“It really, really is,” I replied.
“How am I controlling the girls, then?”
“The same way you’re trying to control me, but you put twice as much effort into them as you do us guys. Half of them are in love with you, and they play ball with the group polyamory shit because they think if they try to covet you they’ll be shunned, the other half are… they’re still being manipulated, mostly. And if they resist that, then you fucking get them pregnant to keep them in the group.”
Carl had gone still.
I turned to see Fungus Face standing at the edge of the trees.
“You know it,” I told her. “You’ve convinced yourself it isn’t true because it’s easier. Just go.”
She turned, running to the nearest cabin.
“That wasn’t what you were supposed to say,” my Shadow observed.
“It was something I’ve wished I said a hundred times,” I said. “Cathartic.”
“Not that it matters,” the Shadow said. He rubbed Carl’s beard.
“It matters,” I told it.
“Almost done,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Whatever happens, I win,” he said.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“See you shortly,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Fuck you.“
He ran after Fungus Face. I headed toward the main area of the commune, taking long strides.
Alexis was with the group, the new people all drinking with Teeth.
“Hey,” I told Teeth, “Carl really needs you. It might have something to do with the baby.”
Her eyes went wide. She ran for the cabin where Carl and Fungus Face were.
Alexis rose half out of her seat. I seized her wrist, shaking my head.
“What happened?” one of the guys in the newcomer’s group said.
“This place is a cult, I said. “Not a drink-the-Kool-aid cult, but it’s still fucked. I’m leaving, you have five seconds to decide if you’re coming.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I headed for the truck.
Footsteps followed.
Only Alexis.
She had just closed the passenger seat when the guy who’d just spoken came to the window. “You can’t take the car. There’s a pregnant girl-“
“There’s always going to be reasons you can’t,” I said. “That’s how it works. I dunno, I’ll- I’ll send people.”
“You can’t-“
I shifted gears, stalled, and then managed to get the truck moving in reverse. The guy stepped away. I turned and pulled onto the road.
“Fuck,” I said. “Fuck.”
Alexis put her hand on mine.
I pulled it away, sharp, the gear-shift making a violent noise as it jerked in response.
“Sorry,’ I said. “That’s not nearly as reassuring as you think it is. I’d explain but…”
“Okay,” she said. “It’s cool.”
I nodded, focusing only on the unfamiliar act of driving.
Away from the only place I’d ever really felt like I’d belonged.
■
What was worse than being in a bit-rate cult and then spending a week second guessing yourself?
Being in a bit-rate cult and then spending a week second guessing yourself twice, the second time in some fucked up, twisted shadow realm.
I sat on the cot in the youth shelter, a separate, two-bed room, arms around my knees. This wasn’t a decision time. It was an experience time. I got to sit there and experience the cold, impersonal misery of the shelter, while reflecting on everything I’d just given up. Just to drive the point home, this Shadow-place made my environment as unpleasant as it could get. The sheets were stained, and I heard people screaming across the hall, constantly fighting. Chaos and conflict and urban, in contrast to the commune by the lakeside.
I was giving up feeling okay. Friends, intimacy, sex. A sense of accomplishment, of having built something.
I heard the door open. Even with the benefit of hindsight, I expected Alexis.
It was Carl.
I hadn’t confirmed what shelter I’d cross paths with Alexis at, the shelter we were most familiar with, but he’d intuited it.
And maybe we hadn’t ditched the car far enough away. He’d gotten a call, and he’d figured out the answer.
I gripped the side of the cot.
“You called the cops on us, Blake,” he said.
“On you,” I said, eyes on my knees.
“It messed up a lot of things. People got scared, we got fined, for lack of permits, even when I own the land…”
I stood from the bed. I tried to walk past him. He blocked me.
“Tell me,” he said, “Do you even believe it anymore? Now that you’ve had time to think? This cult nonsense?”