Chapter 9

Abby walked out of her bedroom, wearing only a plain white bra and a thick pair of white panties. The day before, she’d retrieved both of those undergarments from the vast community stash of clothing. Since landing in the year 2081, this was the first time she’d ever donned a bra. She knew that Fragger women, as a matter of course, did not wear them, as it violated their central fashion tenet of simple casual comfort. But today, Fern Parsons, President of the Philadelphia sphere of influence, was granting the Delmarva community the exceedingly rare honor of paying them a personal visit. Although that wasn’t the sole purpose of her trip, Fern had specifically stated – again – that she wanted to meet Abby. And Abby knew full well that the typical Delmarva mode of dress wouldn’t suffice here. This was, after all, a very important Patriot-style meeting.

It was late in the morning. Essence was standing in front of an ancient full-length mirror that she’d propped up against one of the walls in what passed for a living room these days. They’d reached the level of comfort with each other that most female roommates achieve over time – getting dressed in the other’s presence was simply a matter of course. She was currently sporting the same attire as Abby – a bra and panties. But Essence, out of practice with hooking up a bra, was fumbling around, trying to fasten the clasps in the back.

“Here, let me give you a hand,” offered Abby with an understanding smile. She moved in behind Essence and quickly joined the clasps. Essence had to fight to keep from shivering perceptibly as she could feel the fleeting contact between Abby’s fingers and the flesh on her exposed back. She also, for one brief moment, could detect Abby’s breath on the back of her hair; she knew at that point she would be paying Maeve a visit later.

Both women then donned the remainder of their meeting attire – a blouse and skirt. Essence grinned as she handed Abby the shoes she’d borrowed from a neighbor, just for this occasion. “There weren’t any in the warehouse in your size,” she explained to Abby.

Abby took one look at the shoes – a pair of simple black pumps that would have been in style way back in the 1950’s - and she rolled her eyes. “The rest of this outfit, I can see myself wearing to an in-person job interview or something like that. But these shoes? I’ve never worn anything like them. Even in the Stone Age back in 2023, they’re from another era.” Essence had a similar pair for herself, and they both laughed as they slipped them on.

The two women left their residence shortly thereafter, and managed to catch Hannah, who was just starting her noontime tram run. She was back on duty, fully recovered from her injuries. Hannah couldn’t resist a giggle as she took note of their attire. “Let me guess. We have some important visitors from up north, correct?”

“Nothing gets by you, Sherlock,” Abby groused, before taking the edge off that comment with a disarming smile. “Be glad you weren’t invited. This getup makes my girlie parts itch like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Too much information,” laughed Hannah. “It’s a good thing this tram is empty except for us.”

Essence, continuing to experience a similar itch from a different cause, moved to change the topic. “I asked Kara if she knew what Fern’s visit was about,” she said. “She said she wasn’t sure, but she thinks it might have something to do with the wolf attack.”

“Who’s all invited?” Abby wondered.

“Not me!” Hannah interjected. “Don’t get me wrong, there’s no way I’d want to go to a meeting where I’d have to put on a skirt and high heels. I’d have to turn in my butch card.”

All three of them burst out laughing, including Essence, who realized that trying to change the subject was a hopeless cause with these two. “To answer your question,” Essence said to Abby, “I have no idea who will be showing up. But we’ll find out soon enough.”

That they did. After saying goodbye to Hannah, Abby and Essence walked into the community’s largest conference room. They were surprised to find it decorated and given an overall facelift. Apparently, in anticipation of this meeting, quite a bit of work had been done ahead of time to bring the room up to Patriot aesthetic standards.

Jason was there to greet them, looking quite dapper and distinguished in a suit and tie. Abby realized that he was the one member of the community who did not look out of place in Patriot business attire.

“Kara, Taff and Noah will be here shortly,” said Jason. “They are our official welcoming committee. They met Fern at the helicopter landing pad, and all four of them are headed over in a car.”

Mercy then walked through the door, as did Mimosa. Lars arrived on the scene, also sporting a suit and tie. There were a few others whom Abby knew slightly. There was one woman off by herself whom Abby had never seen before.

“Who’s she?” Abby whispered to Essence. “I haven’t seen her around.”

“That’s Isabella Genovese,” replied Essence. “I hardly know her, but she’s a legislator. She splits her time between here and Philadelphia. She was also on that committee that voted on the project that ended up bringing you here.”

“And she must have voted in favor of it,” Abby commented, but without rancor. She had long since gotten over any residual bitterness associated with that committee and its decision.

It wasn’t long before Kara, Taff and Noah entered the room, along with their distinguished guest. Abby and Essence, taking in the sight of Noah decked out in formal business wear, smiled at each other. They knew they’d be giving him shit about it later.

Kara immediately waved Abby over to be introduced to Fern. Glad to be getting the introduction out of the way before the meeting itself, Abby headed over that way without hesitation. She had heard enough about Fern to suspect that in a group setting, she would over-dramatize the introduction. On top of that, Fern would likely seize the opportunity to use Abby as a prop to make some kind of a point. Now, that uncomfortable possibility had been averted. Kara’s just like Essence - she thinks of everything, Abby thought with admiration.

“So nice to finally meet you, Abby,” said Fern with an overbearing smile. “I’ve heard so many good things about you. I’m happy that you are trying to make the best of your situation, and hopefully we’ll be able to send you back home before too much longer.”

Before Abby could reply, Isabella – who’d wandered up and joined their little group – spoke up. “Abby, I’m Legislator Isabella Genovese,” she stated. “I’ve also heard great things about you. I heard that you assumed a leading role in warding off the wolves that invaded this community. I salute you for your bravery and resourcefulness.”

“You assumed a leading role?” queried Fern, her tone changing, becoming reminiscent of a schoolteacher about to scold some unruly students. “I hadn’t heard about that. You should never have been placed in that position.”

“President Fern, I was happy to help,” Abby interjected right away. “Everyone here at Delmarva – Kara, Essence, and so many others – have been so good to me. They have made me feel as though I’m part of the community and have gone above and beyond to help me deal with the situation. It was really the least I could do.”

Thankfully, the matter was dropped at that point, for Fern wished to get the meeting underway. She took her place at the center of a head table. Seated next to her was Kara. Also seated at the head table was Isabella (who Abby had already decided she didn’t like – there was just something about her), as well as three other legislators who had made the trip down from Philadelphia. All other meeting attendees were seated in chairs facing the head table.

Fern proceeded to launch into a lengthy address. She spoke in generalities at first, driving home the need for their communities to pull together. Eventually, she touched on the recent wolf attack. Surprisingly, she appeared to take great pains to avoid assigning blame. The topic then switched over to one no one wanted to think about – the likelihood of a Fourth Incident, and how that might be dealt with. This provided a segue into Fern’s next item on her agenda.

“Dr. Essence, how is your research coming along? Have you learned anything new about the mysterious visitors that have caused our planet so much pain and tragedy?” Fern inquired in her typical direct manner.

Essence had anticipated this inquiry. She gave a reply about five minutes in length, detailing the information gleaned from Abby’s blood sample, and reiterating the difficulties associated with not having a direct means of analyzing the extraterrestrial invaders – whatever they were.

“I’d like to commend you on your excellent work, Dr. Essence,” said Fern, again appearing uncharacteristically agreeable. “Your ongoing efforts are appreciated.” Essence, stunned by this unexpected praise, offered up a sincere thank you.

Fern then turned her attention to Taff. “Dr. Taffeta, can you fill me in on the latest regarding the repair of the wormhole generator?”

Taff, likewise, had seen this question coming. “I believe Governor Kara told you that we are on track for a completion date in the second quarter of next year. That still holds true.” She went into detail about some of the parts that were required, and the steps she hoped to take to ensure that the malfunction would not occur again.

Noah was next in line to occupy the hot seat. Fern wanted to know the details of a trade offer that had been made by the community in South America, their prime supplier of coffee. The Fraggers had much to offer this community in the way of technical and scientific knowledge. Noah, with his communications expertise and fluency in Spanish, offered to be the point person in negotiations.

“I think you can manage that part of it,” said Fern, whose aggressive bluntness appeared to be curiously diminishing with each word that came out of her mouth. “Just make sure you let me sign off on any agreements before they take effect. And thanks once again for your efforts, Artisan Noah.”

Abby, who up till now was unfamiliar with Noah’s Patriot title, had to suppress a giggle. Artisan Noah? she thought. I’ll never let him hear the end of that one.

At that point, Fern turned to Kara. “Now, I’d like to address the election coming up in November. President Kara, have any other candidates come forward to oppose you?”

“None so far,” Kara replied. “My assumption at this point is that I’ll be running unopposed. With the deadline for candidacy application only a week away, there isn’t much time left.”

Fern nodded and turned to address the entire group. “As you all know, I too am serving a two-year term. Until very recently, I had been under the impression that I also would be running unopposed. However, an opposition candidate has since emerged, which means that all citizens of the Philadelphia sphere of influence will have to make a choice between me and another individual.” Fern’s voice had dropped almost to a whisper. Her lack of confidence in her own chances at being re-elected was apparent to all present.

“Who is the other candidate?” wondered Kara. With Delmarva being as isolated as it was, the latest news from Philadelphia often took some time to reach them. Even Noah – as tuned in as he was with events and happenings elsewhere – rarely communicated with anyone in Philadelphia.

“The other candidate,” said Fern, “is someone who is well known to all of you. He is none other than Legislator Orval James.”

With that revelation, a few people in the audience actually gasped out loud. Silence reigned for several seconds as all on hand began to consider the ramifications.

Finally, Kara spoke up. “But Orval lives here at Delmarva. Is he planning to move?” She cringed inwardly as soon as she finished speaking. She knew she’d committed a faux pas by neglecting to use Orval’s formal title, but she opted to let it pass. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, nor would it be the last.

It was Isabella who fielded Kara’s question. “I have it on good authority that Legislator Orval is in the process of relocating permanently to Philadelphia, even as we speak.”

Nervous glances were shared among all Fraggers present as they continued to absorb this bombshell. But before they could get too involved with internal speculation, Fern began to speak – and to speak with reclaimed authority. She touted her own achievements as President. She laid out detailed plans for the upcoming two years. She brought the address to a close by imploring all those present to cast their vote in her favor. And all the Fraggers in attendance realized one thing: the purpose of Fern’s visit had not been to scold them for negligence connected with the wolf attack. She’d headed south for one reason, and one reason only – to deliver a campaign speech. Everything else had been window dressing.

As Fern wrapped up her speech, Kara wondered if now was the right time to take advantage of Fern’s apparent vulnerability. She decided to go for broke. “If I may, President Fern, there is one thing I’d like to ask about before you leave.”

“What might that be, Governor Kara?”

“The Chesapeake Bay Bridge--”

“No, ” Fern interrupted emphatically, leaving no doubt about whether she was willing to revisit the topic.

Shortly thereafter, Fern headed out with her associates, promising to return soon and address the entire community. The Fraggers then split up into smaller groups and began to discuss exactly what Orval’s candidacy might mean to them. Abby and Essence went over and joined Kara, Noah and Jason.

“I can’t tell you how concerned I am,” said Kara. “If Orval wins ... we all know that he has a grudge against us. Who knows what he’ll do.”

“He’s vindictive enough that I think we should prepare for almost anything,” noted Essence.

“As much of a stick in the mud as Fern is ... if Orval is opposing her, she has my vote,” Jason proclaimed.

“Will I be able to vote?” Abby inquired.

“That’s a very good question,” replied Kara. “The best answer I can give you is ... I don’t know. But it isn’t my call. Fern and her people will have to make that ruling.”

Noah sought to break the tension, as usual, with a little levity. “I think you should get two votes, La Roja. One as your 2081 self, and one as your 2023 self, Miss Dual Identity.”

Abby responded with a syrupy smile. “Nice tie, Artisan Noah,” she cracked, causing the others to start laughing. She then reached over and grabbed his kiddie-style clip-on tie. One quick tug, and the tie was in her possession. She held it up over her head and gave a victorious whoop ... and then threw the tie in Noah’s face.

That evening, Abby briefly reflected on the day’s events as she headed over to the pub in the dim light of dusk. The community lights were on, but the fading glow in the western sky was still strong enough to keep the lights from having their full nighttime illuminative effect. The day had started with the meeting with Fern. All afternoon, the hot topic for discussion had been Orval’s candidacy and his corresponding departure from their midst. It had also been learned that Clair would be moving north as well. This revelation naturally had the community gossip mongers tittering.

Earlier, Essence had told Abby she’d be spending the evening with Maeve. Abby knew not to ask for details. She didn’t begrudge Essence this special friendship – although Essence was admired by nearly everyone in the community, she had few close friends. But something about her relationship with Maeve stirred a sense of uncertainty and discomfort inside Abby. What was that feeling? Could it have been a form of jealousy? Abby chased those thoughts from her mind.

Now, she was about to start her second date with Laird. After disappearing from sight for over a week – not even bothering to show up at work – he’d reappeared at the cafeteria at lunchtime not too long after the meeting with Fern had ended. He’d invited Abby to meet up at the pub again. As before, she’d been reluctant to say yes, but a part of her was very worried about Laird. She wondered just what was going on with him. Partly as a way to check on his well-being, she’d agreed to meet up with him. Abby’s big heart had been her downfall on a few occasions in the past, and she fervently hoped she wasn’t heading in that direction again.

She met Laird right inside the front door. They each grabbed a beer from the bar and headed over to an empty table. Immediately, Laird launched into small talk – the weather, Jimmy’s school work, the light level in the bar – innocuous topics that were far removed from Laird’s typical discussion fare. As he continued to ramble on aimlessly, Abby decided she needed to get right to the point.

“Laird, what’s going on with you?” she asked abruptly.

“What’s ... going on with me?” he put forth, feigning confusion.

Abby merely gave him a steely-eyed stare, her chin resting in her hand, her silence demanding elaboration.

“I’ve had a lot on my mind lately,” he began. “I’ve had a lot to do. Jimmy’s activities, and his schoolwork, keep me busy you know.”