The Sopaths by Piers Anthony Read Free Book Online Page B

it.”
    “You will keep it,” she said firmly. “But about the children: you know we can’t just throw them back into the water. You and I alone could have split up the moment I got my identity back. But when we took them in, it became more complicated. You had to know that.”
    “I did know that. But their need was dire. And you—Bunty, I know we agreed not to speak of love, and it will be some time before we come to terms emotionally with our dreadful losses. But I seem to be in the process of rebounding rapidly, and already I care for you more than I should. The children in effect lock you in, and I think that’s what I want.”
    “Romeo and Juliet.”
    “What?”
    “Romeo had just lost his love when he met Juliet. It was rebound.”
    “And they died!”
    “But we don’t have to. My point is that rebound love is no shame. We have a lot of emotion in flux. We’ll never get our original loves back, so we can afford to let it take us.”
    “But you explained how cynically you played me from the start, to secure your welfare for the moment. Where is your true emotion, Bunty?”
    “I did play you,” she agreed. “But now I’m looking beyond the moment, and you remain an excellent prospect. I’m in rebound too, Abner. It may not be real, but it feels like nascent love. I won’t fight it if you don’t. Planned love can work just as well as random love, perhaps better. I think we can make it together. This afternoon was confirmation.”
    “So you do feel for me.”
    “I do. I’ve always been honest with you, and I am being honest now.”
    It was a confirmation he had desperately needed. “You are about due for your collapse. May I join you in that?”
    “Oh, yes.”
    They lay embraced, and both broke into sobs of grief. It was weirdly refreshing.
    And there were the children standing by the bed, alarmed. They had heard the sobbing and came to investigate, being excruciatingly sensitive to family mischief. What could they have thought was happening? That the adults were fighting each other?
    “We were making love, the way your parents did,” Bunty told them. “That’s why we’re bare. But then we remembered.”
    Abner made a decision. “Just for this hour, join us,” he said. “We are crying for our lost families. You lost yours too. Cry with us. It’s okay to cry. We all need to express our grief.”
    The two climbed onto the bed and accepted the nude embraces, pretending not to notice that aspect. They cried with abandon. All of them cried together, supporting each other in this too. It didn’t mean that they didn’t value their new family, just that they had formidable residual issues to work out emotionally. The fact that they could openly do this surely contributed significantly to their ability to cope.
    And Abner, lying there with his arms around the other three, knew that they would never separate as a family.
    *
    In the morning they went to the administrative offices to see about Bunty’s identity. The authorities understood about sopath mischief and facilitated the process, and Bunty emerged with temporary ID that would serve while the wheels ground more slowly for the rest. She wasn’t destitute; she was the inheritor of her husband’s estate, once it clarified.
    “And we need to register the children for school and preschool,” Bunty said.
    Abner hoped it would be that simple.
    “They’re not yours,” the official pointed out.
    “Sopaths. We’re an ad hoc temporary family.”
    “They won’t take them. The paperwork’s not in order.” He held up his hand to forestall her protest. “I know. It’s a pretext. They won’t take any sopath survivors. They will stall indefinitely. There’s a bias, unofficial but powerful. They think those children are killers. You will have to make other arrangements.”
    “Demonizing the victims,” Abner said.
    “The new racism,” Bunty muttered.
    “I didn’t say it,” the man said, nodding affirmatively. He sympathized, but had