night. Anders can’t hide his excitement. He’s like a little boy with new friends to share his toys with.
Over the next weeks, Anders proves he really does crave change.
“I want to make a kid,” he tells me often. “I want a piece of me in this world that isn’t fucked up.”
People have children for many reasons. Some do so because they have no choice. Others just want to fit in. Making a healthy version of Anders doesn’t seem like the worst reason in the world.
“We will have sex every day, and then our child will exist.”
“You need to stop with the cartwheels and jumping on the trampoline,” he mutters, always wearing a prickly frown when he struggles with his past. “You’re making my jizz fall out when you do that.”
“No, no,” I assure him in my softest voice. “The trampoline makes the jizz bounce farther up into me. And cartwheels use gravity to help the jizz swim faster.”
Anders laughs whenever I explain my theories. He is never completely certain if I’m joking or not. Though I remain a strange creature from an unknown world, he understands I’m the person who loves him most.
However, I’m not the only one who adores Anders. Mama calls him her giant blond son. Dove thinks he’s a majestic bear. Future wants to share everything with Anders, especially apples.
Our love gives him the confidence to push himself farther. Suddenly, he talks about adding more color in the house.
“Akron’s honey painted their family room a dark yellow and a real nice green. Feels as if their yard flows into the house.”
“I can’t think of anything better than adding more of your heart to your home,” I say, excited about his ideas.
In early October, Anders hires men to paint the house. While he supervises the home improvements, Mama, Dove, Future, and I visit Lana’s house. He doesn’t want the paint fumes to mess with his child.
“He’s very protective since I missed my menses,” I explain to Topanga.
“You should double your calories to ensure you’re getting enough to reach a healthy weight while also feeding what will likely be a large baby.”
“The baby might not be so big.”
Topanga and Lana share a look that means I’m naïve. I’m learning to read their expressions.
“Well, I will eat whatever I need to eat,” I explain, more interested in the painting going on at the house than a baby that I won’t see for a very long time. “I will see a doctor and do the stuff you do in this world.”
Again, the women share a look. I wish I felt closer to them, but I’d rather play with Dove and Future or talk with Anders and Mama than make friends. One day, I might get better at the small talk part of relationships. Right now, I only wish to focus on my four people.
“Barbie found the Dandelions!” Mama cries, rushing into the house from the front yard where she spoke with Bronco’s sister. “She found them on the phone.”
“Mama, how?” I ask, looking at my phone without understanding.
Topanga laughs when I shake the device. “She probably searched their names on the internet.”
“How do I do that?”
“I spoke with Helena,” Mama says, taking my hands and pulling me into a hug. “She and many of our friends are at a Florida commune. Tomorrow, others will come to their computer where they can see and talk to us. I didn’t understand that part, but Barbie said she would help.”
Tightening my grip on Mama, I’m struck by a cold dread. As relieved as I feel over finding our fellow Dandelions, I can never leave Anders. Does Mama understand how I won’t move to Florida?
“Are they leaving Elko?” Topanga whispers to Lana.
I sit down and try not to panic. Yet, the thought of Mama, Dove, and Future leaving breaks my heart. Abandoning Anders isn’t even a possibility, and he can’t walk away from his duty to Bronco.
Mama is so excited about finding the Dandelions that she talks too fast to Barbie. I don’t know how the women became friends. One day, Barbie showed up and said Mama should go with her for gardening supplies. Now, they talk every day. Will having a friend in the Woodlands convince Mama to stay?
“Pixie,” she says, still thrilled as she sits next to me on Lana’s couch, “there’s a camera on the phone. We can take pictures of our home and send them to Helena and the other Dandelions. Otherwise, I’m certain they would never be able to picture