The Shape of Family Read online

  “I’ll teach that fucking dog a lesson,” Rufus said, slamming a rock onto the ground. “Eye for an eye, man. Life for a life.”

  Sero looked over at Micah, expecting him to defuse Rufus.

  “Ah.” Micah pointed at Rufus. “The ancient Mesopotamian saying, from King Hammurabi’s Code: ‘to make justice visible in the land.’” He held one fist in the air. “I’ll tell you what I’m willing to do for our vision. I’m willing to work, night and day. To write as many letters as it takes and go to as many meetings as I have to. I’m willing to take on the worries and stresses for every person here, to carry them and solve them, so that you”—he pointed around the circle, capturing each of them in his sweep—“you can all focus on making the Sanctuary the best place it can be.”

  “I’m going to make sure our new chicks are safe and grow up to be great layers,” Zoe called out, and Micah beamed at her.

  “I’ll go to the farmers’ market twice every weekend,” David offered. “Different markets, Saturday and Sunday, to bring in more money for our produce and eggs.”

  “Does it help, Micah, when we fast?” Ericka said. “It feels like we’re all in solidarity behind you, but does it help?”

  Micah smiled at her. “It does, Ericka. It really does.”

  “Let’s do it tomorrow, all of us. We can fast for twenty-four hours, until the welcome dinner,” Ericka proposed, and others agreed. “I might go for two days this time.” She beamed at Micah.

  * * *

  Sero moved restlessly around her bedroom that night. After dinner, Micah had said that group circle had given him another migraine, so she was alone in this room for perhaps the last time before her new roommates arrived. Sero hadn’t lived with anyone since Stephanie Cortez in her college dorm. She felt a small pang for their tiny room and the camaraderie they’d shared, eating bowls of spiced-up noodles and rice late at night as they shared stories of their families and lives. The last time she’d seen Stephanie was on that first visit to the community garden, with the windfall of poblano peppers. That moment, branching to her current life at the Sanctuary, seemed so long ago.

  Suddenly, she remembered the fast she’d be doing the next day and realized she was hungry now. How was Ericka going to fast for two full days? She had the bone structure of a bird and was barely a hundred pounds as it was. In the last month, her face had been losing the apple roundness of her cheeks and had begun to look chiseled. But she seemed so happy and dedicated that Sero had refrained from saying anything to her.

  She had mentioned to Micah a few days earlier that maybe Ericka was becoming too lean, but he countered her. “Sero, you’re just so used to seeing obese Americans. Eating fewer calories is actually better for you, helps you live longer. It’s been scientifically proven.” And it was true, Sero discovered when she later looked it up on her laptop. In many studies, calorie restriction was associated with increased life span and health. This discovery just increased Sero’s confusion and guilt over not fasting as often herself.

  Now, by the light of the fridge interior, Sero grabbed a package of sliced cheddar and an apple from the fruit bowl on the island. She retrieved her cell phone from the basket in the front hallway, careful not to make too much noise, and walked outside and down into the Greenfields farm. She sat on one of the folding chairs at the table where they usually packaged orders and bit into the apple, then folded a square of cheese in half and stuffed it into her mouth. She pressed the voice mail button on her phone and Izzy’s voice came pulsing through the speaker. “Karina! Girl, where are you? It’s been so long. Call me back. I have news.” Serotina smiled, not expecting the spark of sentiment she felt at hearing that name. She touched her screen to call Izzy back.

  “K!” Izzy answered the phone. “Where’ve you been? How’s school? How’s everything?”

  Sero didn’t know where to start. “Good. What’s going on with you?” she said, sidestepping the question. “What’s the news?” She folded another slice of cheese in half, then in quarters.

  “Let’s just say it has to do with Alvaro’s house in Spain this summer, and a certain invitation to meet someone’s parents.”

  “Get out!” Sero was now breaking the cheese squares into crumbs, then squeezing them back together between her fingertips.

  “I know. Alvaro really wanted me to meet his family. I think this could really be it, Karina.”

  “I’m so happy for you, Iz,” she said. “So, when do I get to meet this guy?”

  “Come to Spain!” Izzy squealed. “Meet me in Barcelona after I go to his house. He’s interning at a hospital there all summer. We can travel around the Costa Brava and fly home together. Please, we’ll have a blast. And your Spanish is so much better than mine.”

  Sero rolled a thin rope of congealed cheese under her fingers, unsure what to say. Her life didn’t operate on a school calendar anymore. In past years, she’d worked diligently to fill her summers with internships or activities, but now her life was the Sanctuary. “Yeah, maybe. That sounds fun.”

  “I’ll send you my flights. I have to be back for my internship in July. My English professor recommended me to this literary agency and they hired me. For free, of course.” Izzy giggled. “Anyway, enough about me. What’s going on with you? What’s new? How’s that horse you sent me the picture of?”

  Sero twisted the stem of her apple until it snapped off. “Buddy. Yeah, he’s . . . actually, I’m not sure. I think something might be wrong with him. He hardly eats anything and he’s got this big lump near his mouth.”

  “Hmm. Sounds like when Mr. Chuckles got a tooth abscess. We knew something was wrong when he stopped eating.” Izzy chuckled. “Call the equine dentist. If you don’t treat those, the pus pocket can go up to their brain.”

  “Oh god. That sounds serious.” Sero collected the pile of cheese curds in a tissue and tossed it all in the trash.

  “I gotta go, K, but promise me you’ll think about Spain, okay?”

  Sero sat scraping at the apple core with her fingernails, digging out the small dark seeds and recalling the biology lesson in which she’d learned that benign-looking apple seeds contain arsenic. She was truly happy for Izzy, but she felt a sadness cloaking her, remembering how easily James had let her go for the summer to Ecuador, and afterwards. She hadn’t found the kind of love that Izzy had with Alvaro, and she wasn’t sure she had it now with Micah either.

  * * *

  The next morning, she went to see Micah in his room. “Hey, can I come in?”

  “Uh, sure.” Micah was sitting on his bed with a towel wrapped around his waist, fresh from the shower. Sero forced her eyes away from the broad expanse of his shoulders, to focus on what she needed to say.

  “I think Buddy needs to see a vet. He’s acting strange and hasn’t been eating at all.”

  “Maybe he’s fasting with us today.” Micah smiled.

  “I’m serious. He might have a tooth abscess.”

  “He’ll be fine. He’s a hearty animal. Besides, we don’t have the money for a vet right now. We have to invest every dollar into Greenfields. And now we have some extra expenses, don’t we? To replace the plants you lost?” There was a smirk on his face at her startled expression. “Yeah, I heard about that. You thought I wouldn’t?”

  “No, I . . . I was going to. You just seem so stressed that—”

  “You know what stresses me out, Sero? When I can’t trust someone.”

  Shaken, she tried to steer the conversation back to Buddy. “Okay, what if I paid for the vet? Or can I borrow the money I put into the solar fund?”

  “The money in the solar fund has been paid as a deposit for the solar panels. That’s the way these things work.” Micah’s voice was harsh and condescending. “If you want to waste your own money on a vet, that’s up to you. But if you have extra money, I hope you would contribute it to our collective fund, where it can be invested for our collective benefit.”

  Sero knew she should stop before he lashed out at her as he had
at Justin. As she turned to leave, her eyes fell on the nightstand, upon which sat a mobile phone and the familiar crumpled brown wrapper of a Snickers bar. She paused, taking this in. Then she turned around and said, “Micah? How do you know those chicks weren’t killed by a coyote? I see them out there in the early morning all the time.”

  “I know, Serotina”—Micah pronounced her full name slowly—“because that asshole neighbor told me at the last meeting that he would sic his dog on our chickens to teach me a lesson.” He stood up, adjusted the towel around his waist, and walked into his closet, making it clear he was done with the conversation.

  * * *

  The fasting was difficult for her that day, so by the time Cerise and Daphne arrived in the late afternoon, Sero was cranky. She helped them get settled in the theater room and, despite her reservations about losing her privacy, invited them to share the clothes in her dresser. By the time of the welcome dinner, Sero was famished. She served herself two portions of pan-seared halibut with lemon-herb crust, wilted greens and French lentils, and found herself spooning one bite after another into her mouth, without slowing down to think about the food. She just enjoyed the flavors and the fullness it brought to her, and soon this made her feel guilty. Compounding her sense of guilt was the presence of Ericka and Zoe, still in good spirits, who had decided to extend their fast to a second day.

  After dinner, Micah stood up with his wineglass. “Cerise, you have already saved my hide several times with your amazing expertise in all things technical.” He bowed in her direction and Cerise’s dimples appeared. “I’m excited for everyone else to be around your beautiful energy.” Sero again felt an unjustified enmity toward Cerise, so didn’t even register what Micah said next about Daphne. They went around the table, everyone saying some nice words about Cerise and then Daphne, and when Sero’s turn came, even though she didn’t know either of them very well, she knew to do the same.

  * * *

  The next day, Serotina helped Chef Guy prepare a batch of spinach and cheese omelets for breakfast and handed a plate to Ericka, but she insisted she was still fasting and consumed only one cup of black coffee. Out on the patio, Cerise and Daphne ate heartily as they laughed and talked with the others. Seeing them, Sero was reminded of the fresh excitement she’d felt months ago when she first moved in. She placed the extra omelet on the table between them. “Go ahead, we have an extra,” she told the girls.

  Daphne happily divided the omelet between their two plates. “Thanks, Sero. These eggs are delicious.” Sero knew they would need the energy for the long day ahead of them. She had been fortunate to work mostly in the basement the past few months, a respite from the hard outdoor labor. In the past week, the weather had turned summer-like, with the sun beaming down from a cloudless sky, and a stillness to the air. After breakfast, they all went out to the fields to join Ericka and Zoe, who were clearing old kale and chard. Some of the plants had grown to the size of car tires, with thick and tenacious roots.

  Ericka was squatting, wrestling one particular plant from the soil. When it finally broke free, she fell backwards on the ground. Sero looked up as Ericka began laughing. She got back up to her feet, but wavered for a moment before falling again, sideways, her knees buckling under her. Sero ran over and crouched down next to her friend. There was a bright scarlet trickle of blood down Ericka’s forehead, where she had come into contact with a sharp branch on the way down. “Ericka? You okay?”

  Ericka’s eyelids fluttered and she mumbled something that sounded like, “Just dizzy.” She rested her head on her outstretched arm and her eyes drifted closed.

  “Ericka, what’s wrong? Did you hit your head?” Sero looked over her shoulder and spotted Jeremy a few rows behind her; she shouted for him to come over. He lifted Ericka’s tiny frame in his arms and carried her back up to the house, where he laid her on the couch and went to find the first aid kit. Sero got some orange juice from the fridge and brought a glass over. She tilted the glass to Ericka’s lips, but she shook her head. “Just have a sip,” Sero coaxed. “You’ll feel better. You must have low blood sugar or something.”

  “No,” Ericka said, pushing the glass away so it splashed both of them. She hoisted herself up to a sitting position. “I’m fasting all day. That’s what I promised Micah.”

  “What?” Sero said. “Ericka, you just passed out.”

  “I’m fine,” Ericka said. “Just a little dehydrated. Maybe some water?” Sero returned to the kitchen and washed the sticky residue of juice from her hands, confused and angry. Jeremy bandaged the cut on Ericka’s forehead and Sero brought her a glass of water, which she drank down. “Thanks, guys.” Ericka smiled at them. “Go back out there. I’ll come soon.”

  After Jeremy kissed Ericka on the forehead and left, Sero sat on the edge of the couch next to her. “You have low blood sugar, or low blood pressure, or something, Ericka. You really need to eat something.”

  “I’m fine,” Ericka reassured her. “Just have to build up my strength. I need to be stronger for—”

  “Micah wouldn’t want you to do this,” Sero said, cutting her off. “Want me to go ask him?”

  “Not just for Micah. For the group.” Ericka gave Sero’s hand a limp squeeze.

  Sero shook her head and returned to the kitchen, where she took out a loaf of bread and the new jar of unnatural peanut butter that didn’t belong in their pantry. She made a pile of sandwiches, left one on the table next to Ericka, who’d drifted off to sleep, and took the rest outside. As she returned to the fields, she heard low voices coming from the fruit grove. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw Micah and Zoe, heads bent toward each other. Maybe they would be able to talk some sense into Ericka and get her to eat.

  42 | keith

  MAY 5, 2015

  Keith swirled the Barolo in the bulb of his wineglass and sipped. He nodded approval at the sommelier, who filled the rest of his glass and the one across the table where Jaya would be seated. Keith had taken the liberty of ordering the wine; she’d always deferred to him on this, and he needed a drink to calm his nerves before she arrived. He had to be careful not to have more than one glass, though; he had planned what to say and needed to stay sharp.

  Jaya floated into the restaurant ten minutes after the hour, dressed in an unassuming, crisp cotton Indian outfit—not overdressed, yet out of place amongst the cocktail dresses and suits. A demure smile graced her face when she spotted him, and he stood up to greet her, touching her shoulder and leaning in to kiss her cheek. She smelled faintly of green apple and roses, a familiar scent. They took their seats and Keith gestured at her wineglass. His palms were moist and he wiped them on the cloth napkin in his lap.

  “How was India?” he asked.

  “Wonderful,” she said. “I’m planning to go again next year, make it an annual trip.”

  When was the last time she’d described something as wonderful? “And your parents?” Keith asked.

  “Good, fine,” she said, in the moderated way he was accustomed to. “Have you spoken to Karina lately?”

  “It’s been a week or two,” Keith said, as he thought back. “We’ve exchanged text messages, but I haven’t actually talked to her live.”

  Jaya laughed lightly and he watched her entire face brighten. “I know what you mean,” she said. “Sometimes we exchange ten text messages in five minutes, and I think, Wouldn’t it just be easier to pick up the phone?”

  The waiter arrived to take their order, and Jaya glanced briefly at the menu before ordering the only vegetarian entrée, while Keith asked for his regular salmon. After the waiter left, Keith took a deep breath and placed his wineglass on the table. “Listen,” he said. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  Jaya’s expression turned serious, mirroring his.

  “There’s some trouble at work. I . . .” Keith clenched his teeth, preparing himself for her judgment. “I . . . I made a mistake. A pretty big one.”

  Jaya leaned in a little closer and
placed her folded hands atop the table. Keith felt frozen, his voice caught in his throat. He still cared a great deal, he realized, about what she thought.

  “I conducted a stock trade last year that was . . . it turns out . . .” Keith exhaled heavily. “It wasn’t entirely above board. I was privy to some insider information, which tainted the purchase. I didn’t . . . I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong at the time, but I shouldn’t have done it.” Now that he had admitted it, he felt a rush of relief and the words continued rolling out of him. “I should have just played it safe and stayed away from the company entirely.” He ran one hand through his hair as he shook his head, then dropped his hands on the table.

  To his surprise, Jaya reached across the table and cupped her hands around his. He forced himself to meet her eyes and saw that, unexpectedly, they were full of understanding. She nodded gently for him to go on.

  “The SEC started an investigation into the trade, and . . .” Keith looked at her and shrugged, his throat tight. “I have a good attorney. We’re hoping to settle the case and pay a fine.” He desperately needed a sip of water, feeling the perspiration under his shirt, but he didn’t want to break the grasp of Jaya’s cool and calming hands around his.

  “So, if you settle, you pay a fine and no . . . prison, or anything else?”

  Keith nodded. “That’s the hope. That’s what usually happens in minor cases like this. But, Jaya, it may be a pretty significant fine. It may change . . . everything.”

  “What would it change?” Jaya said softly.

  “Well, I may have to sell the condo, and . . . I’m not sure what else. That’s why I wanted to put aside money for you and Karina, for your future needs, so you don’t have to worry.” His voice cracked a little. “I’m not sure it will be enough, but . . .” He shrugged again, his throat clamped shut.