Page 47 of The Genius
“Just the shoes lying around; didn’t you see it when we walked in?”
She raised an eyebrow. “That’s your definition of messy? What are you, some cleaning freak?”
“I like it tidy, that’s all.”
“Since when? I don’t recall you being obsessed with tidiness at the school.”
“I’m not obsessed. It’s just that this place is small. Maybe if I could afford something bigger, I might be more relaxed about it.”
“Do you still teach?”
“Yes.”
“Then how come you don’t live at the school? Isn’t that the norm here in the Northlands?”
“Things have changed. I work at an integrated school where more than half of the children have families to go home to. The older ones came when their moms married an Nman while the younger ones have mixed parents. We call them Nomo children here.”
“So do we.” Shelly looked around my apartment. “The media came up with the term when Christina and Boulder had Indiana. He was the first mixed Northland and Motherland child to be born.”
“That’s not true. All of us Nmen are mixed.”
Shelly drew her eyebrows close and moved to the window. “True, but you Nmen were taken from your Motlander moms and sent here when you were three years old. Nomo children don’t suffer that trauma since they grow up with both their parents.”
“You make us sound broken. We’re not, you know.”
Shelly didn’t react to my comment but asked a question. “How many Nboys stay at your school?”
“Thirty-two. I have night shifts, but it’s only twice a week. That’s why I like to have my own apartment to go home to.” I smiled. “We also have three sisters attending school, which I’m excited about. They are real Ngirls.”
“Meaning both their parents are Northlanders?”
“Yes, their dad won their mom in a tournament and it’s funny because there’s less than a year between each of the three girls and they have a younger brother too. I guess some people are just lucky.”
Shelly widened her eyes and I got the impression she didn’t share my definition of luck.
“But of course, the sisters have their mother so they go home in the afternoons as well.”
“Don’t you feel sorry for the Nboys that don’t have families?”
“Not really.” I offered her something to drink. She settled on a glass of water. “In a way it was easier for my generation. We didn’t have anything to compare it to. If you ask me, the Nomo children are often caught in the middle with parents who disagree on how to raise them.”
Shelly swallowed a sip of her water. “Integration takes a lot of compromising.”
“True. And with Nomo children soon being the new normal, we’d better get used to it. The number of Nboys we receive from the Motherlands has decreased by ninety-four percent this year compared to ten years ago.”
“Ninety-four percent?”
“Yes. Around five hundred thousand women have moved here and we have a large growth in births. The Council in the Motherlands insists that newcomers of all ages will count instead of the Nboys we normally get. I suppose it’s their way of keeping our numbers in check, but it will only last for so long. With the influx of women moving here to marry and start a family, our number of inhabitants will be exploding in the future. I predict that soon all Nboys will grow up in families.”
“That’s inevitable,” Shelly agreed. “And good, right?”
“Maybe.” I sighed and plunked down on the couch. “It changes our culture for sure. Teaching the Nomo children is different than teaching the Nboys. Last week I had a mother come and tell me I was too hard on her son.”
“And were you?”
I snorted. “Her kid got punished because he deserved it. It wasn’t anything personal, but she said I was a sadist for making him do forty push-ups in front of the others.”
“Augh.”
