It would never be the same as lying with Boulder, of course, but then again. I would never get to lie with Boulder again.
“Okay,” I said and moved to the side, signaling for him to join me under the cover.
Victor smiled and stripped out of his clothes before he crawled onto the bed. A few months ago I would have thought he was male perfection but now he looked boyish with his hairlessness and lack of toned muscles.
I turned my back on him, unwilling to see him or smell him. I would just imagine he was Boulder.
“Do you like to spoon?” he asked softly and positioned himself up against my back and behind.
“Is this spooning?” I asked.
“Yes.” He kissed my nape.
“Yeah, I like spooning, but can you be quiet, please?”
“Of course. Just let me know when you’re ready to receive sexual pleasure and I’ll be happy to provide it.”
“Place your hand on my breast,” I said quietly, because whenever Boulder and I had “spooned” his free hand had always found my breast.
Without hesitation, Victor complied and I sighed contentedly, holding on to the memories of a large, virile Nman behind me, insisting that I was his wife.
A smile spread on my face as I reflected on how repulsed I’d been by the title “wife.” I had associated it with someone oppressed, obedient, abused – and yet being married to Boulder had been nothing like that. If anything, I had felt supported, protected, and loved. I tasted the word “loved.” Had he loved me? I would never know for sure, since no such words had been exchanged between us. Yet the memories of his tireless lust for my body and his need to be close to me even in his sleep had made me feel wanted, desired, even revered.
Another tear from my seemingly endless internal well ran down my nose and dripped onto the mattress. I clung to happy memories of falling asleep in Boulder’s arm, sated from our love-making and feeling cocooned in his safe arms.
Boulder
The trip to New Berkeley took forever. The drone was incapable of flying fast like ours. Clearly they didn’t live their lives on the edge much.
When the sun rose in the early morning hours I took in the Motherlands with fascination and was surprised at how different it was from what I’d imagined. Whenever I thought of this place, I pictured it like an ant farm with people living in impersonal cubicles and dressing like clones.
I was wrong.
Everything was clean and inviting, with every building covered in flowers or greens. They had bike lanes all over and David explained that not only did the bikes produce energy but the lanes themselves were designed to suck up energy from the sun. We didn’t have anything like that. We went from place to place in drones or hybrids that would fly over water, gravel, fields, or mountains if needed. Outside the towns, there was no need for roads in the Northlands.
People here had a lot of pets, it seemed. I saw a lady walking five cats, a man jogging with both a dog and a mini horse, and I saw a child with a rabbit under his arm.
“Stop the drone,” I barked when we passed a group of mothers with babies on their arms. I’d never seen a real baby. Boys came to us when they were three years old, and I’d never been lucky enough to see one of the few babies that were born in the Northlands.
“What’s wrong?” David asked.
“I want to see the babies,” I said with my nose almost pressed against the window.
Magni leaned forward by my side. “Hard to believe that we all start out that small and fragile,” he said, but he quickly resumed scanning the streets for Laura.
“Remember,” he said to Jonah and David. “Laura is about five foot nine, large blue eyes, long red hair, and cute freckles across her nose.”
“You’ve told us a billion times,” David muttered.
“I need to eat soon,” Jonah exclaimed. “I get really cranky when I don’t eat.”
“Girl,” Magni muttered low.
“Say sorry,” Jonah insisted.
“For what?” Magni didn’t even turn his head to look at Jonah. His eyes were scanning the streets.
“You made an attempt to insult me.”
