It turns out that meeting with Mr. C was my last one. Apparently, the governor of the state wanted to know the real names of the PearlCoin members coming to visit us, and after enough arguing with PearlCoin he was able to get the names. This caused an uproar in the state as it was revealed that several of the members who regularly came to visit us were Jewish, most notably an Avi Cohen. Some states of HOME are fine with members of other races visiting them. My state is not one of those states.
The people here may tolerate non-Italians who are still of European descent, but anyone who doesn’t fit the description of ‘European descent’ are forbidden from entering our state. The people here also tend to have a strong disdain for those of Jewish descent in particular. Jews are the ones who refuse to accept the Son of the Father, no matter how much God punishes them. Jews are the reason why Christians split away and infight with each other. Jews are the ones who forced usury, sexual degradation, and the destruction of basic morality and human decency the world. But most importantly, Jews are the ones responsible for the creation of LOVE. That’s what’s taught in my state at the very least.
“I can’t believe those PearlCoin bastards tricked us!”
Mother was the most furious out of us all. I didn’t really have any thoughts on the matter.
“I knew there was something suspicious about the potato prices! Don’t those cryptocurrency people understand that just because they come from lawless hellholes doesn’t mean that they can’t follow the laws of civilized societies!?”
After some furious discussion, the governor and PearlCoin came to an agreement. All PearlCoin members visiting the state will be required to have their genetic ethnic backgrounds and real names pre-approved by the governor before being allowed to enter the state. As soon as the controversy ended, everything went back to normal as if it had never happened in the first place. Another month passed by and it’s time for the next visit from PearlCoin. I’m curious to see whose replaced Mr. C. The closer that winter approaches, the more the landscape is covered with colorful fallen leaves. The weather’s getting cold too, and we’ve started bringing out the warming pans at night.
Arriving at the border and nothing seems to have changed too much. Makes sense, the only real changed that’s occurred is that certain PearlCoin members aren’t allowed to visit anymore. Father and I park the horse carriage as per usual and we head to the truck that used to be run by Mr C. The new figure standing by the truck is a man with long blonde hair and light green eyes. He’s tall, lean, and has a slightly effeminate face. He may not be Jewish, but he still doesn’t look like the kind of man who’d fit in around here. Or to put it more bluntly, he looks like a homosexual. Father seems to agree with me as looks uncomfortable approaching the man and whispers to me.
“…Tell me if he tries to touch you.”
I don’t respond but nod my head slightly and approach the man.
“Hello, I’m Marco and this is my father, Manuel. He doesn’t know English, so I’m here to speak for him.”
Father steps into the truck as I introduce myself.
“Well, you seem like a smart young man. I’m Elliot, it’s nice to meet you.”
Elliot reaches out for a handshake, but I don’t recuperate, and he pulls his hand back after a few awkward seconds of silence.
“So, what kind of farm do you guys run?”
Elliot doesn’t seem to be bothered by me refusing his handshake and still wants to engage in small talk. I figure it’s probably for the best to indulge in his desire. His voice is surprisingly deep considering his effeminate looks.
“It’s nothing special, just a small farm that was started by my grandfather. We also like to sell leftover fertilizer that we make from last season’s crops.”
“Wait, fertilizer isn’t just cow shit?”
“Nope, fertilizer can be made from any compost. We don’t really bother with cow manure because it’s expensive and the smell’s too much.”
I remember Mr. C asking me a similar question about fertilizer. It’s interesting how these PearlCoin members have access to more technology than us, yet don’t really understand the basics of farming. I know there are farms in the territories, but I guess none of the people from those farms join PearlCoin. Father is looking through the truck, browsing the items. It’s the middle of the season, so he most likely won’t buy too much if anything at all.
“Ah, well. That’s interesting. Forgive me for not knowing better.”
Elliot leans back against the truck and raises his arms behind his hand.
“Your father looked pretty uncomfortable with me…I get it. I’m not the kind of guy who’d fit in around here, but at least I’m not a Jew.”
He smirks playfully. Is he admitting to being a homosexual? He should be careful that others don’t overhear. I’m not the only person who knows English here.
“I’m pretty weird, but my girlfriend and baby are happy with me.”
…Girlfriend? …Baby?
“Surprised? I know having children out of wedlock’s illegal in your parts, but where I’m from only the devoutly religious bother with marriage, especially since there’s none of the legal bullshit involved with marriage in the old world. Honestly, I might as well just buy cheap shitty rings for ourselves and call my girlfriend my wife. We’re really not all that different from a married couple in the old world.”
Well, no, I’m shocked that you’re not a homosexual. I had heard about how common babies out of wedlock were in the territories and LOVE before.
“…Ah well, you seem happy.”
I’ll have to have children of my own someday. Most likely it’ll be with Gloria. But if I’m to continue my bloodline, I have to get used to the of sexual activity and my body…
“You got anyone special in your life kid?”
Elliot doesn’t notice anything wrong with me and keeps talking.
“Ah well, there’s a girl from school I’m seeing, and it’s looking likely we’ll be wed once school is finished.”
“Oh, you love her?”
“Well, I like and care about her, and that’s what’s important.”
People who aren’t raised in religious societies always go on about ‘marrying for love’ and other such nonsense. But relationships shouldn’t be viewed in such a childish manner. All that does is give people far too high expectations that cause them to live a life of loneliness. As long as you like the person and aren’t repulsed by them, it’s really not an issue if that person wasn’t your first choice for marriage or your ‘true love’, which is a concept that only exists in fairy tales.
“…Well, okay. If you’re fine with it.”
Elliot has the face of someone who wants to say more, but he probably wants to avoid an argument based off of cultural differences.
“It’s just…I can’t help but think about how miserable I’d be growing up here. You seem like a nice kid, and the other people I’ve met seem okay enough, but I know I’d never fit in here. Even though I’m not a LOVER. But the people here would see me as no different from a LOVER because I don’t agree with how HOME does things wouldn’t they?”
He’s not wrong. Although we may rely on the people from PearlCoin to sell us goods and protect us from LOVE, people around here still see the territories as a light form of LOVE. Some think that the territories are even worse than LOVE since there aren’t any laws or governance whatsoever.
“Well, it’s not like I agree with everything in my society. And there are things that I could never talk about to others about. But that’s life. I’m sure it’s the same for you. Just because the territories don’t have governments doesn’t mean they don’t have social norms.”
“Sure, I get what you’re saying, but I’m really not a religion kind of guy, and I like having access to modern technology. I also just don’t like the idea of government controlling me whatsoever.”
“Couldn’t it be argued that you cryptocurrency people are the ones controlling the territories since you all have the most power?”
“…I guess, but it’s not like we’re forcing people to share ideology with us. We only bother people when they don’t pay for the services we provide. I’d say it’s more like a business.”
Isn’t that what a government is? The government provides you with comfortable living and protection, and in return you follow the rules. I brought this up with Mr. C once before, and it only led to an argument, so I don’t feel like bringing up the argument again. Father soon comes out and he looks ready to leave. Sometimes we don’t buy anything during the monthly visits, although it isn’t common.
“Well, we’re going to be heading on our way.”
I give a goodbye to Elliot.
“Sure thing kid, and uh, if there’s anything you ever want to talk to me about, feel free to do so. I promise not to tell anyone else about it, especially if it’s one of those things you could never talk to others about.”
What an odd thing to offer. Is he trying to befriend me? That seems foolish. Father and I proceed to head home.
“So…How was the new guy?”
Father asks with concern in his voice. That’s right, he was worried about Elliot doing vile things to me. It wouldn’t surprise me if his suspicion of Elliot was a factor in him not buying anything today.
“He’s a bit strange, but I wouldn’t say he’s a bad guy.”
“Sure, but you said that about Mr. C as well…”
The two of us get into the horse carriage. I can’t help but feel bothered by his comment about Mr. C, but I know it’s best not to say anything. Me and father don’t talk much on the way back home, and my thoughts are focused on Elliot’s promise about having me talk to him about anything that I felt I couldn’t talk to others about. This is of course a chance for me to talk to someone who’s not a priest about the camisole, about the strange discomfort I feel in my own body, the mild unsatisfaction I feel whenever I think about my future. But is it really such a good idea? Being from a completely different culture most likely means that Elliot’s not going to look down on any of that, and he may even encourage my strange proclivities. But it’s obviously not good if he tries to encourage any deviant behavior in me.
The days seem to pass by swiftly, and my mind’s been feeling blank. I can’t seem to stay focused or really pay attention to anything. My grades aren’t falling, and my relationships aren’t faltering, but life just seems to be moving on. I believe Mr. C would’ve referred to my current state of being as ‘being on autopilot’ as a reference to auto-driving vehicles in more technologically advanced areas. It doesn’t help that outside of the freakout regarding Jewish members of PearlCoin visiting in the area, nothing interesting has been going on here. It doesn’t take too long for Gloria to notice my ‘autopilot’ behavior, and brings it up during a walk home from school.
“Marco? Is something bothering you? You’ve been acting strange for the past week.”
I don’t know how to respond to her. I’m just living life as I should after all, it’s just that life isn’t very interesting.
“…I’m fine. What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“It’s just…It seems like your soul’s not in you most of the time. You just seem to be existing. Sure, I’m not sensing any sadness or anger from you…But I’m not sensing any joy either.”
“I mean…Isn’t that just life most of the time? Not feeling any real emotion regardless of if it’s positive or negative?”
I messed up. Gloria’s face grows far more concerned after hearing my questions.
“What!? Of course not! Life is something to enjoy! It’s a gift the lord gave us, and to not be happy with the gift of life…Well that’s just a tragedy!”
Gloria gets close to me, the concern on her face being deep.
“…You don’t need to keep any secrets from me Marco. Please, if there’s anything on your mind, don’t be afraid to tell me!”
I can’t help but feel irritated. I get it, she’s my future wife, she means well and care abouts me. But I really doubt my lack of strong emotions is really much of a problem. But Gloria’s more of an innocent optimist. The type to think that the world could all be at peace if we just showed each other enough kindness. Someone like her doesn’t understand that just because someone’s not brimming with joy it doesn’t mean they’re miserable.
“…I…I get why you’re worried, but trust me, I’m fine.”
Gloria seems willing to drop the subject but it’s clear that she doesn’t believe me.
“O-Okay…”
The rest of the walk home was spent in awkward silence. When I arrived home, I immediately went to my room and locked the door. I searched through a drawer in my desk before finding the camisole (I have to move hiding spots for it every now or then or else I risk mother finding it while cleaning). And take my school shirt off in exchange for the camisole. I’ve been wearing the camisole more often lately. It gives me a sense of peace and comfort that I can’t really explain. But it seems to be getting bad. I’m going to get caught eventually if I keep this up, yet I can’t stop indulging in my habit. Ideally, I should burn the damn thing, but then I’d be burning one of Isabella’s possessions…But if I simply placed the camisole back in her room, I’d feel dirty seeing her wear it again.
‘…If there’s anything you ever want to talk to me about, feel free to do so. I promise not to tell anyone else about it, especially if it’s one of those things you could never talk to others about.’
Those words from Elliot spring into my mind. Should I bring this up to him? It’s not that I doubt his promise on spilling the beans to everyone else, it’s that the lawless degenerate culture of the territories means that he’ll say some crap about how I just need to learn to accept myself and how this isn’t a big deal. If I am going to bring this up to him, I need to make sure that he knows I don’t want my questionable behavior rewarded, I want to purge myself of it. I take the camisole off, put it back in the drawer, and put my shirt back on. This behavior needs to stop, and if Elliot proves to be useless, then I’ll just have to figure it out on my own.
I spent the next week forcing myself to not wear the camisole. I thought this was something I could easily do, but it turned out to be far more difficult. There were far more times than I could count where I had to stop as soon as I locked my bedroom door or picked up the camisole. I tried moving it to another place every time I was tempted, but that obviously didn’t work since I would know the new place it’d be hiding. While I did manage to avoid directly wearing the camisole, the temptation wasn’t going away, in fact, it got worse, as if I had a drug addiction. I found myself feeling more anxious and fidgety. God, is that camisole really that important to my mental state? What a joke.
“…Marco, I know you’re not fine. Talk to me.”
And of course Gloria was able to pick up on my stress during a walk home. I’d been struggling to sleep the previous night, and it must be showing on my face. There’s no way I could lie and tell her ‘No I’m actually fine’, because I’m not and it’s clear to anyone who sees me. I’m a disgusting pile of excrement who can’t function without wearing a camisole that I stole from my older sister at least once every few days. There’s no way I can confess this to Gloria.
“I…I guess you could say I’m feeling anxious about the future.”
Thankfully, I’m smart enough to avoid speaking the truth without lying. It is true, I am somewhat anxious about the future, but isn’t that the case for most people? Gloria squeezes my right hand tightly.
“Oh no, has the harvest this season not been good?”
“N-No, we’re doing great actually. We’ll have plenty of extra money to hold us over during winter. It’s just…Well, I get nervous thinking about the future.”
Again, not a lie. And this causes Gloria to stop walking.
“…Marco, look at me.”
I turn to face her way, and Gloria puts her hands on my face, staring directly into my eyes.
“I know that we’ll be adults very soon, and that we’ll have new responsibilities hoisted upon us once we’re finished with school. And that’s terrifying. But that’s why we have our families, our friends, the church, and each other. No one can live in this world alone. People need other people to survive in this world. There’s nothing more tragic than a human being who spends their whole life in isolation.”
Gloria leans in to give me a warm embrace.
“You’re not alone Marco. I know the future is scary, but I’ll always be there to support you no matter what.”
I can hear how genuine Gloria is with her words, and I truly believe that she earnestly cares about my wellbeing…But I also know that it’s far too risky to admit what I’m anxious about.
“…Thank you, Gloria.”
I hug her tightly in response. It was at this moment I realized that perhaps I should talk to Elliot about my problem. Even though I know he’ll try to convince me that there’s nothing wrong with what I’m doing and that my perversion isn’t destroying my life, I also need to at least open up to an outsider about this.
Author’s Note: Yeah, my struggles aren’t improving much are they? Is there any point to me continuing to write this dumb story? I’m getting far more success with working on AI bots and I just feel frustrated and annoyed when I come back to LOVE. I originally started the story due to some writing group I joined that’s pretty much dead and people rarely if ever post on these days. I doubt anyone who visits this website even enjoys reading it and just wants to check out posts related to my AI bot work. I dunno, I guess I won’t completely give up on this story, but I also have to realize what gets me anything resembling success on the internet.
