Page 34 of Everything Under the Sun

“Thais?” the woman said. “That is your name, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The woman smiled gently, more with her eyes than with her lips, and then pulled my left foot from the water and cleaned around the open wounds with a wash cloth.

“My name is Naomi. I’m Rafe’s second wife.”

“Who is Rafe?”

I winced as the cloth grazed one cut.

“He’s the real Overseer,” Naomi said. “And the Overlord’s right-hand man. I imagine he won’t be back for several weeks at least.”

The “real” Overseer?

I vaguely remembered hearing the name ‘Rafe’, but couldn’t recall the conversation. All I knew was that I never wanted to see him face to face, especially now since it seemed I might end up as one of his wives, too.

“Is he a cruel man?” I asked, already knowing he was no matter what the woman chose to tell me.

The gentle smile in Naomi’s eyes faded; she looked only at my foot. “Not to his wives, usually,” she answered. “But he can be to others.”

“I want to go home,” I said, a knot twisting in my stomach. “I just want to take my sister and leave this place. We didn’t ask to come here. We were taken against our will and forced to come here.”

Naomi’s gaze softened on me.

“I understand,” she said. “And I’m sorry that you were treated the way you were, but you’ll see in time that this is the best place for you to be.” She dipped the cloth in the water to rinse it, and then wrung it out before going back to work on the same foot. “Overlord Wolf is only trying to put this country back together, and sometimes things must be done that would’ve been considered unethical in Old America. Times have changed, and we must all learn to change with them.”

I winced and made a hissing sound through my teeth.

“I’m sorry,” Naomi said, trying to be gentler. “Your feet will need time to heal, but they can’t start the healing process until they’ve been cleaned.”

“But why are women treated the way they are here?” I cared little about my feet; I wanted to know everything I could about this place.

“Treated the way they are?” Naomi inquired.

“Yes—forced to marry men they don’t love.”

Naomi smiled, released my left foot into the water and took the right one into her hands.

“The population has to survive somehow,” Naomi said. “And while I admit that it’s risky, and quite dangerous to bear children these days, it’s something that must be done and will always be done. It’s human nature to breed, especially in times of turmoil and crisis.” She worked the cloth around my ankle where a blister that had not yet burst, sat like a little balloon. “Even before society fell, Thais, when American women were too busy with their careers, and went to drastic measures to avoid pregnancy—or to end them—babies were born and died by the thousands in third-world countries to women who had no business having children. Why do you think that was?”

“Because they were raped,” I said with bitterness. “And because life in many third-world countries was chaotic and brutal and frightening. And because we are all animals, and animals are by nature, breeders and killers.”

Naomi seemed surprised by my answer, and then she added to it: “And because in times of crisis and turmoil, humans inherently find comfort in other humans. And because sex is and always has been a universal commandment of survival.”

“Maybe so,” I said, “but I don’t want to be anyone’s wife. I don’t want to bear anyone’s children. I don’t want to be forced to do anything I don’t want to do—I just want to find my sister and leave.”

“Where would you go?”

“Back into the forest. We survived all this time on our own and without the help of any soldiers or cities or hot baths. So, as much as I appreciate your kindness, I have to disagree with you and every other person who has told me that I’m better off here.”

Naomi said nothing in response, but her eyes remained kind, and her gentle hands remained careful.

After the dirt and blood had been cleaned away, and my hair had been washed, and the water in the tub had cooled, Naomi helped shave my legs. I had only ever shaved my legs a few times in my life, and each time was before The Fall when I was a young girl. I had been experimenting and wanted to be like my mother and sister. But after The Fever swept through, and society fell, things like leg-shaving and makeup-wearing and hair-styling were replaced by more important things, like alive-staying.

My face flushed beet-red and my legs snapped closed tightly around Naomi’s hand when I felt it moving to touch my pubic hairs.

Naomi moved her hand away, and smiled softly to show she meant no harm. “If you’re to be Rafe’s wife,” she explained, “that hair will have to go—I won’t hurt you.”

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