Goldilocks Forever

Chapter 17

Santa Monica, California

February 2006

"If you don't eat, I will tie you down and force feed you." He pointed a finger at her. "No joking. The chef cooks a meal in the morning every day. You will eat it."

She crossed her arms over her chest again. "Fine. What are these rules I need to know?"

"They're very simple." George held up his hand and ticked them off on his fingers. "One: you will respect your elders. They are your superiors and you obey them."

"How old are you?"

"Seventy-five last January." She really wanted to know how old he was chronologically--even if he thought it irrelevant--but she could tell she was already testing his patience. 

"How do I know if someone's my elder?"

"Everyone is your elder. Two: no photographs of any kind. Nothing that documents the passage of time. Don't cry into a diary or anything like that, either. Three: no fraternizing with the Aging."

"None?"

"You can transact business with them as needed, but that's it. Four: no fraternizing with the Infected of other societies, either. Five: we only induct new members on a volunteer basis. No age rape allowed. You're not old enough to infect someone, anyway."

"How old do I have to be?"

"Twenty-five. Next, transfers are allowed only by Council approval." George flashed his open palm in front of her. "Those are the rules of the Southern California Society. You get all that?"

Anna nodded and bit the inside of her cheek to hold back the words she wanted to unleash on him.

"Now," he straightened in his chair. "Onto the rules of the household." He held out his other palm. "Keep it down before six and after ten. Don't be late for meals. You are responsible for keeping your living space tidy and for doing your own laundry. If you want to prepare food beyond what Chef makes, you can do so, but clean up after yourself."

Reasonable so far...

"There is a dress code. For ladies, no tight clothing, and your chest and stomach must be covered. Put your hands at your side." She rolled her eyes but complied. "Do you see where your fingertips meet your thighs? No skirt hems above that point." He gestured to her feet. "No bare feet. Oh, and absolutely no flip-flops. Two pieces of conjoined plastic are not footwear. Good luck if he hears you flopping around in those things."

What kind of sexist bullshit is this?

"Do not enter Sabian's rooms without his permission. Do not enter anyone's room without permission."

She nodded her understanding.

George rattled on as if he hadn't noticed. "We have drills once a month and they are timed. The household with the best time is rewarded. We won last month and I won't have you messing it up for us this month, so make sure you pay attention when we go through it on Saturday."

"What kind of drills?"

"Fire, earthquake, and attack. Sabian takes our safety very seriously." The computer finished loading and George made a few clicks with the mouse. "I expect you to meet me here each morning at seven. We work every day. No sabbath, no holy days, nothing like that. We don't observe any religious holidays. If you have a faith, keep it to yourself because no one cares and we have little tolerance for religious nuts."

He put the mouse and keyboard aside and reached for the notepad. He wrote a number on a fresh page and then turned it so she could read it. "That's your pay."  It was better than what Pilar paid her for the work she did at the bakery.