Page 26 of A Better World

“Not at all,” Linda said. “I’m sorry you’re going through this, but it’s a relief to hear people say what they’re thinking. I don’t get that very often around here.”

“They’re islands within islands in this town, aren’t they?” Rachel asked. “Not even they know what the hell they’re thinking.”

Linda tried to be diplomatic, made a wide eye.

“Yes, how’s your adjustment going, Linda?” Daniella asked.

Linda blushed. “I love it. The people are so nice. I can’t believe we got in.” Her voice was an octave higher than usual, her head nodding like a bobble doll’s. When she lied, she tended to oversell.

“Oh, they’re nice to you?” Rachel asked. “You’re the one exception in the history of this town?”

“Don’t put her in the hot seat. She doesn’t know us,” Daniella said, her black brows gathering toward the bridge of her long, bulbed nose. Then, putting Linda in the hot seat anyway, she asked, “Are they truly nice? Are they inviting you to things?”

Linda nodded her head, then shook it. Rachel’s wine-red, eyetooth-prominent smile spread slow and amused.

“I hate this hazing thing! I’m nice to everyone,” Anouk said. “I can’t abide people who aren’t. They don’t belong. Linda, you’ll have to give me names. I’ll have Daddy investigate. We can’t be a thriving community if we reject fresh perspectives. It’s a Hollow tenet—we need new genes in the pool.”

“They’re a wet bag’a’dicks,” Rachel said, finishing her glass and pouring more. She topped everyone else off, too.

“I get it,” Linda said. “There’s a limited number of spots. But the vehemence of our ostracization has taken me by surprise.”

“Vehemenceis one word for it,” Rachel said.

“Yes, but what does it mean?” Daniella asked.

“Spiritedness. Sometimes I think you do that on purpose,” Anouk said. “You want to soothe everyone’s egos and let them think they’re smarter than you. But I’m a genius. I literally have a 165 IQ. My ego doesn’t need that.” Then she turned to Linda. “Daddy says people arescared because there’s less spots than there used to be. We used to cap our population at 5,000 but we lowered it to 4,500. Contraction’s a normal part of every company’s life cycle. Even Plymouth Valley needs to expunge in order to purify.”

“Right. Totally,” Linda said, trying to hide her shock that she’d just heard a grown woman sayDaddyfor the third time in a single night. Then: “The one thing that surprised me was that soccer here still employs sudden death.”

“Ooooh noooo,” Rachel moaned. “Your kids don’t play soccer, do they?”

Linda’s voice got high pitched and squeaky. “The pamphlet said it was just for fun!”

Rachel shook her head. Daniella made a sympathetic frown. Anouk covered her ears, like she’d just heard something savage.

“I should have known. I can’t believe I’m so stupid. Poor Hip—that’s my son. He’s just fine at it, but he’s not great, like the rest of them.”

“How would you have known?” Rachel asked, then indicated the outside of the room with her hands, to the wider expanse of the restaurant and the town. “These people wouldn’t have told you.”

“Rachel exaggerates. Most people are lovely,” Anouk said. Then, voice lowered, as if admitting something: “But the schemers love to compete. They make soccer… traumatic.”

“My kids swim,” Rachel said. “Lessons five days a week. That way they don’t get fat but they also don’t have to deal with the bullshit. Sign Hip up for that. But at the pool. Don’t let him swim in the river. It’s got an undertow.”

“Really? We swam all summer and it was calm.”

“Don’t do it again,” Daniella agreed. “It takes you by surprise. Only people who don’t know any better swim in the river. But Rachel, is it called an undertow? What makes an undertow?”

Rachel answered, and Anouk shook her head, sure that Daniella was feigning her witlessness. Linda felt a flutter of gratitude. She’d been hungry for helpful direction. By that standard, tonight was already a success.

“Do you all put offerings on your altars?” Linda asked.

“Every week! It’s more about ritual than belief, like mistletoe and Christmas trees,” Daniella said. She tossed this out like a stock line she’d repeated many times before.

“You should do it,” Rachel said. “Everybody does it. I’m an atheist and I do it.”

“Absolutely do it. It’s what makes us Hollow. All company towns have specific cultures. Ours is more ornate, but it’s really not much different than Palo Alto or Buenos Aires,” Daniella said.

“You’re forgetting the birds. The birds are weird,” Rachel said.

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