Matronly Duties Read Online Free PDF Page A

we’ll get you home.”
    There’s a light knock on the door. A little girl of maybe ten pokes her head in and announces food’s ready. The smell wafts in behind her and my stomach grumbles, making my decision for me.
    “Okay,” I reply. “Let me get dressed and I will join you.”
    Rhonda stands and walks towards the door. “Turn left out the door and follow the hall to the kitchen. You can’t miss it.”
    Alone again, I stand to change. Just sliding off my jogging pants is a chore. The muscles in my legs are extremely stiff, and I have black and blue marks everywhere. I obviously have bruising in places I can’t see as well, because as I pull on the clothes Rhonda gave me, they rub against the sore spots.
    Tears pour down my cheeks as the reality of everything sinks in. The adrenaline coursing through my system has ebbed away, leaving me shaking and exhausted. Knowing how close I came to being raped, if not killed, makes me shudder. Knowing what people are willing to do to me, even before I am Matron, makes me unexpectedly thankful for my sheltered upbringing. A shelter I desperately want to get back to. When I spoke to Gail yesterday about wishing something out of the normal would happen, this is not what I had in mind.
    I finish dressing, and open the door. Happy voices echo down the hallway. Following Rhonda’s directions, I soon find a long rectangular table full of people waiting to eat. Gosh, how many kids live in this house? The table itself looks old and well-used, like it might even be from the ancestors’ time. It’s covered in baskets that appear to be woven out of leaves. Everyone is seated on square blocks of stone that seem to be makeshift chairs.
    “I saved you a seat.” A little girl waves and motions to a block next to her.
    “Thank you,” I reply politely and take my seat. “Everything looks delicious.”
    The baskets are filled with in an amazing spread of traditional foods like mushrooms, eggs, and bread, but there are also some rare foods like tomatoes and capsicum. I haven’t seen a meal of such capacity in years. I wonder where they have gotten all the food, as it is not typical fare provided by the city stores. Everyone has an empty plate in front of him or her apparently waiting for me to start eating.
    “Thank you for your hospitality.”
    “You’re welcome,” Rhonda replies. “Let me introduce you to everyone.” I nod and smile. “At the head of the table, that handsome gentleman, is my husband, Anthony.”
    “Welcome,” Anthony says with a tip of his head.
    “To his left, of course, is Howard. He’s our eldest at twenty-three.”
    I notice he is again staring at me. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down my spine. I find it hard to believe that he is younger than I am.
    “Next to him is our oldest girl, Margaret, though everyone calls her Margie. She’s nineteen. To her left is Timothy, or Tim for short. He’s ten. These two to my left and right are the twins, Bradley and Jean. They will be thirteen next month. Last, but not least, that little bundle of joy to your right is Claire. She’s six.”
    Everyone but Howard give me a wave and a quick, “Hi.”
    Looking around the table, I’m confused. They all seem to have similar facial features, which make me think they are related, but they can’t be. The law prohibits women from having more than one child with the same man, and more than two overall. They can’t possibly all be her children.
    Before I can even ask my question, Rhonda answers it. “Yes, all the children are mine and Anthony’s.”
    “But . . . how?”
    “Do they not teach the ways of making love in schools anymore?”
    Making love? I glance back and forth between Anthony and Rhonda. They can’t be saying what I think they are.
    “Yes, Bethanie. All of our children, besides Howard, were conceived naturally.”
    I look around the table again. “By fornication?”
    Rhonda nods, smiling with pride.
    Anthony chuckles. “So that’s what