The Only Ones (29 page)

But when we made our summer visit to the Farm, it came again while we are there, and what happens is, she got so Oppositional, Janet figures out what is going on, tells Rauden, and while Ani is calming down with a Game in the Box Room, Rauden brings me to Lab 3, shuts the door, and starts to ask the details—this is medical history, she achieved menarche, what is the timing? Well, I don’t know what happened here, but next thing I know, I start to talk a way I never talked to Rauden before. It’s like Janet Delize talks to him. “Oh,” I go. “She’s going to be the Subject now?”

Rauden is so surprised how mean I sound, his mouth drops open. “It’s just for the records, I.”

Well, I was surprised too but just kept going. “Put this on the goddamn records, R.” I’m like, who is saying this? Me? I never talked like this to him before. But I keep going. “You want ova?” And I hit my ovary, the one. “Here it is! You want soma?” I hit my breast. “Come and goddamn get your soma!” Rauden is holding his hands up like, don’t shoot, but I am off the charts. “Who’s going to get beefed, get poked, get scraped, R, who is the Subject here?” And I stick my face right next to his. “I’M GOING TO BE THE ONLY ONE!”

By the end, I’m shouting so loud Ani comes to the lab room door. She looks scared now. So Rauden and I shut up. I’m scared too. I never was like this before. I forget to even ask about the viable sales from the Newburgh Harvest.

And I really need the money.

So, on the MagLev home, I’m just going over it all in my mind, what happened, why did I act like that? I almost don’t notice Ani going,
“Ma.”

“What?”

“Is Rauden my Dad?”

“Rauden?” Where does this come from? “Who told you that? No. Rauden’s not your Dad. Did young Phil tell you that?” This is Janet’s grandson. He was visiting. “Young Phil doesn’t know anything. Rauden’s not your Dad.”

But when we are almost home, getting off a shaw at Marathon in the dark, she goes, “Is Henry?”

“Is Henry what?” Then I get it. “No. Henry’s not your Dad. Rauden’s not your Dad. Neither of them are.”

I’m not saying I didn’t sometimes wish they were.

The rest of the summer was so nice I wished it never ended. But it did.

So. It’s the first day of Ani’s second year at East Side Girls. This one day, I’m allowed to come with her. We will take the podtram in together. We’re waiting for it. She is wearing the Hygienic uniform, with a new red tie because it is her Second Year. She looks so cute.

I got her new white shoes, they call them Crewes. Her feet grew so much in the summer, I had to shell out for another pair from Darleen. Ani really grew a lot. But not in the breast. Maybe she never will. I never did. Anyhow, the Hygienic uniform fits. At the end of First Year they give them a new one for Second Year. But not shoes.

We took the pod to Hunter’s Point, and now we are waiting for the ferry to the Lock. I was like, so! This year it’s going to work. The other girls are going to sit with you, like that.

Well, it didn’t work. From now on I don’t think anything did.

v

The Dome Lock was closed. Some bug is going around. We have to get tested again at South Brother Island to get in the Dome. So this is the first day of her Second Year at East Side Girls.

When we get the South Brother tests sorted out, it turns out over summer East Side Girls changed its scanner to read pure code. We have to go up to the Farm again so Henry could fix up our ID swipes to make our pure code readings track separate, which he does but says even so, watch out because if we both scan in the same system the same day, the first person’s files could get wiped out by the second one’s. Just punch in a special reverse code he gave me. That will crash the system. It will buy time.

When Ani finally gets back to school, no one will sit with her. They say she has Cooties. When Ani tells me how prejudice they are I say I’m going to complain at the fall Conference but Ani says if I say anything she’s never going to school again. Well anyhow at the fall Conference it does not even come up, because Ms. Chaffee says Ani is failing Humanity. She does not do the work. So that is news to me. I must stay on Ani’s case and help her do the work, though a tutor would be better. Could I manage that?

Totally, I say.

Whatever it even is.

“Ani!” I say when we’re home. “Do your work,” because what else could I do but stay on her case, but after I did it a few times, she burst into tears.

“I can’t do it, Ma. I don’t get it.”

So I will help.

“No, Ma. No. It’s English.”

How hard could that be?

“Ma! It’s Diagram. You have to know what is the Subject.”

Hello? I
am
the expert here. So I helped her do the work.

Two days later, she gets off the minivan and hates her school because she failed Diagram. And she is so mad at me. “Ma! The Subject is who does it.”

That used to be the Tech.

It happens to the Object.

That used to be the Subject.

“You do not know anything!” She ran into her room crying and locked the door. “Neither do I! I got it from you. I’m stupid!”

So that’s it. It’s my fault. She doesn’t know anything because I don’t know anything. It’s in the genes. I should of gave her to someone else. Next thing you know, I’m going to cry too.

But that is not going to happen. Not going to happen. I pull myself together. “Ani!” I call through the door. “It will be all right. I will buy a tutor.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

But I don’t have to know. I just have to pay for it.

I message Rauden the next day about the sales. No sales. Man! What is going on? My new client for cleaning says she will ask around for other clients but it could take a while. Wait—I could ask Alma and Norma to hook me up with other oldies who need help with chores. That should bring in a few extra coupons. Ok! This will work.

So now this is the life. Year Two, month four. Wake up, do breakfast Process. Race to get to the minivan on time. Race to Nassau County, scrub Domes. Race back to get Ani at the Stop, go home, get supper, and the minute that is over, race off to do chores for oldies. Lug boxes on and off shelves they cannot reach. Move the furniture around. Don’t forget to race back home and stay on Ani’s case. Did she do her work?

Yselma’s friend Xochitl who was Agosto’s swap Host says I could not pay the going rates for tutor in a million years but did I notice the East Side Girls had gizmos to help them with the work? Now that I think of it, besides the magnet belt, some had sort of a mirror on their head so they won’t read backward. Xochitl says go to Iron Triangle Bazaar, where I did the Interview for Opening and deCon, so long ago. I could get every kind of gizmo Ani needs. Discounts on everything—that is where she and Yselma bought the male factor for their kids. So after Christmas, I brought every coupon I had saved to Iron Triangle, which was great. The tutor gizmo is a tiny chip you put on your regular swipe ID, so when you swipe into Readers at school or anywhere, it tells you the answers, but you must also buy a cheap Reader to do the work at home, so it cost quite a lot in the end. Xochitl helped me bargain and put the gizmo on the swipe.

Well, guess what? Before the week is over, Ani lost her swipe! The school office sent a Note. She cannot come to school without the swipe.

I could hardly believe this. And I just put the gizmo on it.
And
got a new cleaning job. Now I must go up to the Farm so Henry could rig up a new one. “Ani, you can’t be losing your swipe. It is important.”

She just said, “I hate my swipe.”

How could you hate your swipe?

Henry makes a new one, but I lost two days of work not to mention the gizmo software that was on the old one, so I will have to pay all over again, and even from Iron Triangle, it’s going to clean my coupons out. I am already having trouble paying Partial on the travel Aide. I got to find out what is going on with the sales. I tell Ani to go help Henry fix your swipe ID, then I follow Rauden to the kitchen where he is cooking up some Beverage.

“What is the problem, R? There is so many Epis overseas, the Newburgh viables should sell like hot cakes. Come on. I really need the money, R.”

He just says, “Well there is a complication. Let’s give it a little time.”

“For what?” I said.

Well, I don’t know how Henry rigged Ani’s new swipe so fast but next thing I know, he has wheeled to the kitchen doorway. “Bro,” Henry says. “You have to tell her.”

“Tell me what?
”

“Tell her what?” It’s Ani in the doorway, behind Henry. So that’s it for the talk about the sales.

On the MagLev down, Ani asks me, “What did he look like?”

“Who?” I’m just trying to grab a nap here in my seat.

“My Dad.”

Oh, here we go again. “Why?”

The other girls are telling her she does not know who is her Dad.

Well, I am going to tell her she should tell these girls she’s not the only one who doesn’t know her goddamn Dad. But who’s going to sit with her if she says that? So I just say, “He looked like me.” For all I know, it’s true.

I mean—if her Dad is my Dad. If that’s how it works.

Then we didn’t say anything the whole way down. She just looked at the window, where you could see her face, in the glass. I closed my eyes. When I opened them, she’s looking at my own face. Then her face in the glass. Her/me.

More and more I thought maybe it’s better if she never knows. She already didn’t fit in with the other girls. At least there are other City Line kids in the world. But what she is—she could be the only one she ever heard of. How’s she going to feel about that?

In fact not long after we got back there is a story in the News, a baby born in Idaho who seems to really be cloned. I think the mother Hosted it herself. The kid died in four days because clones die young, and the Parents died two days after that because Idaho vigilantes set their house on fire. The TV showed pictures of both Parents, then the baby clone. Then they have an Interview with some Idaho Neighbor who tells the News, “This poor kid should never of been born.”

So Ani and I are watching this and I say to the Neighbor’s face, “Well, you are the world expert on who should be born.”

But then the TV person looks out hard and goes, “Sadly, we must agree.”

What happens now, I don’t know if I’m getting an anomaly myself or what, but I went ballistic. “This goddamn cretin! He doesn’t know anything.
Anything.
ANYTHING!”

Ani is so surprised she starts to cry. She’s crying like she did when she was eight years old and I kept yelling, “A clone is like anyone.” And I feel terrible, like I did back then. Why did I make her cry?

But she is not eight now. She’s almost thirteen. When I was thirteen, I did not cry at all. So great. It’s one more way to prove, you know.

Still, I start to wonder if something
is
wrong with her. She is really crying all the time.

She cries when I get another gizmo and she can’t make it work. “I hate this gizmo!” she sobs.

She’s crying on her thirteenth birthday, because she hates her knees. How could you hate your knees? It’s true they are a little big but maybe they look big because the legs are narrow. She is narrow all over. Except the face. I mean, the face is narrow but not so narrow like mine.

“Ani, nothing is wrong with your knees.” I have to say this through her door because she locked it.

“Oh!” she sobs, through the door. “And you know this because?”

So this is the new thing.

Like the last day of school, when her stupid report card comes with a Note she did pass but just barely, even with the gizmo, and if she does not do better will not get into Upper School—which I never even heard of—and I go, “So. Next year, you will do the work.”

She goes, “Oh. And you know this because?”

So that’s the end of Year Two.

We usually go up to the Farm in June, July, or August, and I want to get on Rauden’s case about viable sales, maybe run another Harvest because I really need the bucks. But I don’t want Rauden to know how bad she’s doing. I’m worried it could affect the sales. I message Rauden I got no time off and will try another time.

Right away I wish I went. This summer is a nightmare almost from the start. I don’t have to rush to meet Ani after work but I still got six jobs, then when I’m through I have to do chores at night for oldies. I always need more coupons. And then I have to deal with her.

On vacation she used to be glad to follow me to my jobs and enjoy the Nassau County Domes but this year she’s like, “Ma. I am too old for Games. Let me stay home alone.” Well, that is not going to happen. I don’t like to worry Ani but between you and me, this Idaho vigilante stuff with the baby clone and the fire has me nervous. You did sometimes see those Fundy nuts in robes around. I just don’t think she should be alone. So I have to drag her all the way to Nassau County with me. And we are always late.

8:12 a.m. We’re just leaving. “Come on, Ani. Come on.” She is so slow.

“Ma, I don’t want to go. It’s boring.”

“So bring some summer schoolwork with you.” We’re hurrying up 255
^th
Street. “That could really help Year Three.”

“And you know that because?”

“Because Ms. Chaffee said so.”

“I hate Ms. Chaffee.”

“I am not crazy about her myself, but if you don’t do what she says you could lose the Aid.”

“I hate the Aid.” Then she just sat right down on the street.

“ANI! Get up, Ani.” Oh, man. We are going to be late to Lorena Hutz. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

So now she is crying! Right on the street.

“You think something is wrong with me! Everyone does! Everyone thinks something is wrong with me.”

“Ani, get up. Nothing is wrong with you!” We will be so late.

“Oh!” She is sobbing. “And you know this because?”

“Ani! I’m just saying!” Man! Better not say anything. I just go, “Hey! Ani! It’s so hot—on the weekend, want to take the sailtram to the beach?”

She hates the beach.

“Want to do something else?” I’m just trying to get her up off the road.