Shelly spoke the words I thought I’d never hear her speak, “I want to have a baby.”
It was one of the few times I didn’t know what to say. So, I stumbled through some words, “Oh? I suppose we can do that.”
Thus began the process. In the weeks ahead, we had to learn all the laws about parenthood. In particular, the ones about the baby being diagnosed as a white male child. Having to learn such children were always aborted, and always, the fetal remains were placed in containers, in the genetic banks, wasn’t fun. But it was the law.
And it was a good law. We knew the stories. We’ve all heard the stories. Of white men. How they were a threat to all women, everywhere. How they took what they wanted, even if it meant killing others, and taking it from them. How women were scared to walk through the grocery store, because one might take what they wanted from them. Might follow them to their car, and throw them in the back seat, and rape them.
White men were the scourge of the human race. Everyone knew that. That’s why the laws were written. That’s why white men were imprisoned. Why they were executed. Didn’t matter what they’d done in life. Their existence was a threat to the rest of us.
So, we wipe them out of existence.
It made the world a safer place. We haven’t had a war in nearly 100 years. We’ve gone green, stopped using fossil fuels, and use solar and wind power. We got rid of the guns too. All the guns. It was amazing to watch the body count in places like Chicago, and New York, and Washington DC nosedive once the guns were gone.
And the white men fought back the whole time. They didn’t respect the law at all. The will of the majority of the world. Nope. They went on these monstrous killing sprees, and shot women, black people, Muslims, and anyone who wasn’t a white man. Just like they always had. It only made the laws easier to enforce, as the entire world turned against them, and saw them for the violent, aggressive, predatory beings they were.
These days, it was a woman’s choice to have a baby. The couple made the decision. It was funny on the legal paperwork. “Mrs. A and Mrs. B. have elected to have a baby, and understand the process, and the legal requirements.”
We’d put in our request, and the local genetic bank, and have genetic samples taken. The samples would be compared to the contents of the bank, and the best match would be picked out. Of course, there was only a 90% chance the baby would be female. If it was that 1 in 10 times when a male baby was conceived, it would be aborted, and the genetic material would be added to the bank.
We had to sign all the legal paperwork agreeing to that. But it wasn’t a big deal. We didn’t want a baby boy anyway. Especially a white one. That would be like raising a rabid wolf in your home, after all. We hoped for a red headed girl. With green eyes. But, we’d be happy with whatever our daughter turned out to be. And if it was a boy, we’d try again. Until we had a girl.
No rabid wolves for us.
This is written for Week 49 of Miranda Kate‘s Mid-Week Challenge. This week is an angry week. And I’m not hiding the causes. You can read about Miranda’s small fiction challenge here. Please, go read Miranda’s short tale this week, and any others that showed up. The tales are always little works of art, crafted with words, meant to be shared, and enjoyed. And many of them are amazing.