Free Sundry Days by Donna Callea

is plush. For the duration, there will be only women in this building, aside from the elderly men—deemed harmless—who do all the serving, cooking, cleaning, administration and other work that needs to be done. Mama has made special arrangements for Matt, Jeff and Lars to stay in her suite, as long as they remain behind closed doors and don’t show themselves.  She gets away with everything.
    Because it’s assumed women are safe here, we’re not required to wear our robes. Women of all ages now are required to wear all-encompassing hooded robes whenever we’re in public.
    It was a very controversial ordinance.  But for our own good, we’re told. Mama was for it. I can’t say that it bothers me too much.
    It bothered Rebekah, though.
    “I’m going to keep getting haircuts and dressing like a boy,” she said.
    “No, Beks, you won’t,” John told her. “Everyone knows you’re not a boy. The barber knows. He’s always known. I saw him leering at you the last time he cut your hair. You’re not fooling anyone. So from now on, you wear the robe when you go out. It’s time that you became what you are.”
    He was right, of course. But it only made her more rebellious. She refused to go out at all.
    John is as sick with worry as I am. We all are. There’s nothing we can do.
    As soon as Rebekah turned 18, she withdrew all the funds in the savings account John and Danny set up for her.  We only found out after she and David left. She had the right. It will be enough, I hope, to keep them safe and out of sight for a while.
    We haven’t told Danny yet. I suppose we should. Why shouldn’t he worry, too?
    Most of the seminars at the Women’s Conference are about how dire things have become. It’s a totally different atmosphere than the one in our town several years ago.
    The birth rate for girls continues to diminish. No one knows what to do about the Lost Boys. There’s talk about the monogamous cults in the northwest, beyond the Coalition’s boundaries.
    Some claim the monogamists are stealing our girls, doing terrible things with their excess boys. Even if that’s true, there’s not much we can do about them. Except declare them a shocking abomination.
    On the way home, I alternate between praying silently to The Designer, and sobbing as quietly as I can. I think of David when he was a baby. I wish I could clutch him to my breast again and keep him safe.
    Lars is sitting in the back with Mama and me. He sees my tears.
    “I’m sorry you’re so sad, Susannah,” he says. “I wish I could make you feel better.”
    He’s really very sweet. Maybe it would have been better, I think, for David to have been born dull-witted. But what I think doesn’t matter.
    The world is as it is.
    I pray again to The Designer.  It’s all I can do.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter 12
    David
    On the Road
     
    Rebekah doesn’t complain. She’s never before been on a sun-cycle, and she’s scared at first.  I can tell.  She holds me tight, her front pushed up against my back, her head nestling on my shoulder blade. We’re not wearing helmets. It’s too hot.
    She’s trusting me to take us somewhere.  But all I know is that we have to keep going west and stay away from populated areas. We have to get beyond the Coalition’s western boundary. It’ll probably take a long time to get somewhere safe, anywhere safe, if such a place even exists. But there’s got to be more to the continent than just the Great Lakes Coalition. We’ve talked about this. That’s what we’re counting on. If we go far enough, maybe we’ll find a place where we aren’t criminals.  There’s a limit to how far we can get on the sun-cycle. It’ll need to be recharged eventually. We’ll have to figure something out. But for now, it’s all we’ve got.
    I’ve studied maps.  I know approximately where we are now. We’re not near any towns, which is good. But I have no idea where we can stop for the night.  We’ve got