Tonight’s dinner is frittatas with minestrone. Mother always makes sure to cook us meals that are delicious and filling. Isabella will sometimes help out and while she’s also a great cook, mother can be a bit over controlling and prefers to cook by herself. There is plenty of conversation about how we spent the day. The beginning of the season means riding the fields of the old summer crops and replacing them with the seeds for the autumn produce. Father and mother work on the farm together. Isabella also helps out on the farm occasionally, but she’s at the age where it’s time for her to find a husband, so she can’t spend all of her time at home. Isabella’s been showing interest in the son of a nearby ranch, but his family doesn’t want the two to be married until she knows how to handle the animals there.
Dina and Erica are children, so their responsibilities are far fewer, but Dina’s boundless energy and unladylike behavior has been causing some mild conflict between her and mother. Erica doesn’t get into trouble as much and it’s clear that Dina’s jealous of her. I do worry about Erica and Dina coming to resent each other, but hopefully nothing too serious will occur. I too, also discussed my day with the others, specifically the part about the ‘unique’ stuffed bear that Gloria made for me, which caused some light discomforted laughter from the older family members. Once dinner was finished, father went back to reading a book and mother went to wash the dishes.
“Ready to head to the bath house?”
Isabella asks our younger sisters. Wednesday evenings are the ideal time for visiting the bath house as that’s when it has the fewest number of people inside. Dina and Erica nod their hods.
“Marco, do you want to come as well?”
“I don’t see why not.”
The four of us walk outside, where the world has been tinted orange from the sunset sky. The local bath house is a short walk from our farm, so we don’t have to fret too much about walking back home in the dark. Still, Isabella makes sure to keep Dina and Erica close to her. Even if the chances of something bad happening are small, you can never be too overprotective with children. We reach the bath house quickly and Isabella pays the owner at the front. I then part ways from my sisters as they enter the women’s bath and I enter the men’s bath. As expected, there’s no one else inside for me, and I can presume it’s the same on the women’s side. I begin to undress, and the more I strip, the more tense I feel.
Once I’m fully naked, I grab a bar of soap and sit inside one of the tubs. It’s odd, I have no real reason to dislike my body. I have good musculature, and the amount of female attention I got before getting serious with Gloria tells me that I have a handsome face as well. Yet there’s something about the times when I’m exposed during bathing, or even when I’m simply relieving myself at an outhouse, that makes me feel a strange sense of discomfort. As if my body isn’t my own and I’m merely inhabiting the body of a stranger. But this is obviously the God given body I’ve had since the day I was born, so the idea that this isn’t my real body is ludicrous.
It’s one of those things that I know I can never be honest about, less I want to risk becoming a target of ridicule. At the same time, I can’t deny that this is a problem. What’s going to happen if my and Gloria’s parents decide to approve of marriage for us, and the time comes for us to consummate that marriage? I can’t even imagine what life would be like for me if I had been born in a part of the world that was more hedonistic and sexual perversion was more rampant and encouraged. There’s no way I could survive in that environment. I remember a particularly vulgar classmate of mine once talked to me about ‘pleasuring himself’ and the idea made me feel sick to my stomach. Me not being overly lustful is obviously not a problem, but the reason why I’m not lustful is.
Despite these anxieties I have, I still make sure to clean myself properly. When I return to the front of the bath house my sisters aren’t there, but they show up not too long after me. The sun finishes setting as we walk back home. We don’t talk much during our walks to and from the bath house, but the sound of crickets chirping helps keep things from being too silent. Once we return home, it’s time for me to head to my room and start winding down before bed. Being the only son means that I have my own personal room, which is good for me because there are things I have in here that I can’t have anyone else know about. I lock my bedroom door and crawl under my bed.
“…Where is it? Damn it’s dark…”
I mutter to myself while searching under my bed before feeling a soft fabric.
“There it is.”
I crawl out from under the bed with the white camisole gripped in my right hand. It’s one of Isabella’s that she lost one day. It turns out she merely misplaced it while doing laundry, but I’m the only one in the house that discovered it and…I don’t know why, instead of doing the right thing and returning it to her, I took it back to my room and…I put on the camisole. Ever since that day, I’ll sometimes wear the camisole while alone in my room. I don’t know why, I have no romantic feelings for my older sister, and I find the idea repulsive. All I know is that wearing this camisole helps me relax. This is by far my most shameful secret. I dress down to my undergarments and put the camisole on. Isabella’s shorter than me, but the camisole isn’t so tight on me. I think this may be due to her large bust size.
I go to my desk and open the English textbook on there. I’m the most fluent in English out of all my family, and because of that whenever PearlCoin members make their monthly visit here, I always accompany father on his trips to purchase seeds and farming equipment from them. Our state’s relationship with PearlCoin is a strange one as PearlCoin is a cryptocurrency group and cryptocurrency being a modern technology is banned in all states of HOME. However, cryptocurrency groups like PearlCoin help protect us from possible attacks by LOVE, and thus we do need to tolerate some parts of the modern world in order to survive. Lately, my family’s been purchasing goods from a “Mr. C” who is one of many PearlCoin members to visit. He stands out with his modern hair and clothes, but he seems to be a nice enough man.
Creeaaaak
A door opens and I jump in my seat freaked out, with my heart beating at the speed of a modern day vehicle. I know my door’s locked, and it’s most likely just someone going out to get some water, but the possibility of being caught dressed like this is too much to bear even with that in mind. I decide to take the camisole off and place it back under the bed. I take a few deep breaths, and by the time I’m calm, I hear the footsteps return back to their bedroom door. I should probably get to bed.
The week passes by uneventfully. I spend my days at school, walking home with Gloria, being with my family, and hanging out with friends. Sunday is the day of the monthly PearlCoin visit, which means that after Sunday Mass, my father and I take a horse carriage to the borders to see if there’s anything interesting to buy. There are several other people traveling in their own carriages, and more will show up the closer we get to the border.
“…Potatoes, carrots, beets, broccoli…Oh, I think your mother said she wants to try making pickles, so we should get some cucumber seeds too.”
Father reads out the list of seeds to purchase to me as we ride to the border.
“We need to get a new axe too. The old one’s getting rusty…You know what, you’re at the age where I should teach you how to get fire wood.”
Father keeps talking out loud, not really needing a response from me. My nodding along is more than enough for him. It was raining quite heavily yesterday, giving today’s scenery a special ‘freshness’. A few leaves on the trees are starting to darken, showing the change from summer to autumn. It takes about two hours to travel to the border from our home, making these trips an affair that takes all day. Although it takes a while, a sign reading in Italian saying ‘YOU ARE NOW LEAVING THE STATE OF LA CHIESA CATTOLICA ITALIANA DISAPORA AND ENTERING INTO THE TERRITORY OF BUTTE. BE WARNED: THERE ARE NO LAWS HERE’ appears in our vision, along with some large trucks and men standing out in front of them.
We go to park the horse carriage, of which there’s a PearlCoin member to help us out with, and then head over to meet with Mr. C. He’s a tall man with dark short hair who always wears a tacky flower print shirt regardless of the season. I’m just amazed that there’s enough different tacky flower print shirts that someone could make it their entire fashion. My father’s English is terrible, so all the communication is left to me.
“Good afternoon Mr. C.”
I wave to him and he recognizes the two of us.
“Hey Marco. How’ve things been?”
He greets me casually, I guess you could say he likes me. My father tends to take a while to figure out what to buy, so the two of us like to talk together to pass the time. Although it’s inappropriate, I am curious about life outside of HOME, especially the lawless territories. But Mr. C doesn’t really like to devolve too many details about his life growing up. I kind of understand it, but at the same time, it’s not as if anyone in any state of HOME will ever care about who in the territories gets murdered by cryptocurrency groups or the rivalries that occur. My father steps into Mr. C’s truck to browse and I stay outside to chat with him.
“It’s the beginning of a new season, so we’re just here for seeds, and a new axe.”
“Ahh, you know, we got our hands on some pumpkin seeds, you think your family might want to grow pumpkins this fall?”
“I don’t know about that…”
Pumpkins don’t have the greatest reputation in our state. They’re association with the pagan holiday Halloween causes discomfort among older people here. Sure, most people my age don’t really care, but I’d rather not risk my family’s reputation right now.
“You sure? Pumpkins sell for good money.”
“Our farm’s small, so we like to stick with trusted crops.”
It’s not as if I’m lying with that statement.
“Alright, then, suit yourself.”
I peer into the truck and see my father still browsing around. Since PearlCoin only comes once a month, my father likes to take his time purchasing goods, and we’re usually some of the last people to leave.
“Anything interesting going on the territories?”
It’s something I always ask Mr. C when we meet. The first time I asked, he was a bit hesitant to reply, fearing that I’d be too disturbed by some of the events that occur in the territories, but I managed to convince him to tell me anyways, and regaled me a tale of a man getting castrated because he was a spy from a rival cryptocurrency group. I can see why he was hesitant about telling that story, but I’m the kind of Christian who enjoys the darker stories of the Bible, so disturbing tales like this intrigue me more than anything else.
“Ah well, not much has been going on.”
I hate answers like that.
“…I see. Is there anything we could talk about?”
Mr. C puts a hand behind his head.
“Well, uh…I’m not sure. I don’t want to talk about my personal life outside of PearlCoin for confidentiality reasons. I don’t know, what do you want to talk about?”
I think about it for a few seconds before responding.
“Have you ever been to LOVE? What’s it like?”
That response makes his eyes widen.
“…You’re an interesting one, but the answer to that is no. Only citizens of LOVE are allowed in LOVE and LOVE hates people in the territories just as much as they do HOME. In fact, I’d argue they hate the territories even more than HOME. The only information that we have about LOVE is from people who left LOVE for the territories.”
“And what have those people said about LOVE?”
“A lot. And almost all of it negative, but I’ll try to be as neutral as I can. Advanced technology and medical science, everyone lives in fancy towers and never go outside, there’s this whole thing about ‘killer spores’ that the citizens religiously believe in…It might as well be a different planet from the way people describe it.”
“Spores?”
“Yeah, it’s some crazy shit, everybody in LOVE sees the world outside of LOVE as some apocalypse where everyone is dead, sick, or fucked up from the effects of killer spores. I’ve met people from LOVE who despite hating everything else about LOVE, still believe in the spores and just think that everyone out here’s immune or somethin’.”
“Well, what’s to say they’re wrong?”
Mr. C is taken aback by my question.
“…Obviously they are.”
I hate answers like that.
“And how do we know? It’s not like the territories have any official means of studying that.”
He seems shocked by my response but tries to keep his composure.
“We have doctors and scientists who’ve studied this you know. And besides, if LOVE really was right about this spore stuff, do you think the world would’ve split off like it did?”
“I don’t see why that scenario is impossible to envision. Human beings love conflict, division, and ruining peace.”
Mr. C stares at me for a bit, unsure of what to say.
“…You’re a weird kid.”
Before I can say anything back, father comes back out with items he wants to purchase, forcing the conversation to end. After we finish buying our items, we start to head back to our home and my mind drifts back to the conversation I had with Mr. C.
Since HOME started off as place for people who rejected the ideology of LOVE, this means that for the past several decades, every person born and raised in HOME is taught about the evils of LOVE, but I’ve always been somewhat skeptical if everything that I’m taught about LOVE is true. There has not been a single person from any state of HOME that has lived in LOVE ever since the old world ended, so how could our people know everything there is to know about LOVE? Sure, there are cryptocurrency groups that visit, but they’re from the lawless territories and are obviously biased against any form of governance.
Of course, I’m not dumb enough to question what I’ve been taught. I remember once as a child, a friend of mine asked a teacher if it was really true that government officials from LOVE installed a pro-LOVE pope into the Vatican and was smacked with a ruler for it. I don’t blame my elders for that. A society can only stay strong if there’s cohesion and questioning the history of your society can destroy that cohesion. Sure, you have people like me who aren’t sure if they fully agree with everything they’re taught, but what the hell can I do? Just leave and go into the territories where someone could rape and murder me with ease?
Father and I arrive back home just as the sun starts to set. I can see Isabella braiding Dina and Erica’s hair, and they seem to be wearing flower crowns as well. She looks up and greets us.
“Oh, you two are early! Dinner still isn’t finished yet.”
I give her a light greeting before going into the backyard with father to put away the seeds and axe we purchased into the toolshed. I’m still in school, so I don’t need to help out with the farm yet, but since I’m the only son in the family, I will be inheriting it after I’m done with school. To be honest, I can’t say I’m thrilled at the prospect of spending my life growing food for the community, but someone has to do it, and I can’t just escape my future responsibility. I walk back to the front of my house to spend time with my sisters before dinner is ready. It looks like Isabella has finished braiding the younger ones’ hair, and even her hair has been braided as well.
I can’t help but feel a bit frustrated watching them. I do get along with my sisters, but because I’m male, I can’t really bond with them in the same way I could had I been born a girl. This feeling is another one of those things that I simply can’t be honest about. The most I’ve done is vaguely reference it around Gloria and she said something along the lines of “Well, you’re just a sensitive boy who understands women, no need to be ashamed of it, in fact, that part of you is what I love the most about you”. While I do appreciate her positive outlook on it, there’s just something that gnaws at me. This feeling of ‘not fitting in’ and ‘not feeling right’. These are emotions I know I can’t speak about to most people, and because they’re not really sinful thoughts, I can’t go to confession for them either.
Well, I did go to confession once about the camisole thing but…The fact that I’m still doing it shows how well that worked.
Author’s Note: Sorry for the delay. I’m struggling a bit with this arc. I think it’s because I’ve had to create an entire cast of new characters whom practically all of them won’t make anymore appearances beyond this arc. There’s other issues as well (real life stuff as I work on becoming less of a NEET, mixed with general procrastination), but I think that’s the main struggle I’m having with this arc.
