George Alec Effinger by Relatives

Author:Relatives
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

Ernest awoke slowly. He felt sick. He hadn’t had nearly enough sleep, and his body hadn’t quite finished the chore of flushing the alcohol from his system. He got out of bed and went to the louvered window. It was a dark, drizzly day; the air smelled bad, again. He went over to the radio and switched it on, but there was nothing but static. Naturally; no one was going to sacrifice his token in order to provide early morning music and chatter. Ernest turned off the radio and rubbed his bleary eyes. It was a rotten day already.

He went into the bathroom and relieved himself. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He looked as terrible as he felt. “Might as well never mind,” he muttered. “Anybody that looks as lousy as that, doesn’t deserve a token.” He went back into the kitchen area and made himself a small breakfast. He ate it slowly and then got dressed. He was in no hurry to go downstairs.

“Gretchen?” he called. He hadn’t seen her yet.

“What?”

“Where are you?”

“What do you mean, where am I? I’m in the nursery with Stevie. If it was up to you, the baby’d starve to death or something. You never even think about him. I know you hate me, but I can’t understand why you hate Stevie. He’s never done anything to you.”

Ernest frowned. “That point is debatable,” he thought. “And I don’t hate him. You can’t hate your own son, can you?”

“Are you ready to go?” she asked.

“Yeah, put your clothes on.”

“Ernie, I’m not coming.”

“If you don’t come with me, you’re going to die.”

“No, I won’t. Tell them at the station. Tell them I’m pregnant. They’ll give you a token for me. They have to.”

“All right. See you.”

That was that, Ernest knew. Their relationship, the marriage, the baby, everything. Gretchen had locked herself and little Stevie in the nursery area, and nothing that he had said had shaken her wall of fear. Well, then, he’d get his token. Maybe this was the best way.

His own fear was lessened by a confusion of other emotions. He knew that he was not going to die: he’d get a token one way or another. But his wife, and his son. … There was just too much to accept all at once, and he shunted the uncomfortable thoughts away for a while, preferring to deal with the here-and-now problem of getting his token.

He slammed the modapt’s door loudly, but he didn’t hurry down the dim hall to the elevator. He just stood there for a few seconds, listening. There were none of the usual noises from the other modapts on the floor. Everyone was already out, scrambling in his own best interests. He put his ear against his own door; he heard Stevie begin to cry, no doubt because Gretchen was picking him up and “soothing” him again. Well, he wouldn’t have to put up with that much longer. It was hardly a consolation. He went over to Vladieki’s door.

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