Strange Animals (10 page)

On the drive
home, James told himself that he was trying to make decisions for himself that were outside of God's plan for him. Nothing else could explain why Cathy already had a boyfriend. James made a vow to God as he pulled into his parking spot that he would never again make a decision for himself without praying about the issue intensely and waiting for God to give him some sign to let him know what action he should take. He made sure to include in the vow the promise that he didn't need to hear God's voice or anything that selfish. James just asked that God help him understand what it was that he was supposed to be doing to honor God and to fulfill his plan.

He went inside, turned on his computer, logged in to his ChristianMingle.com account, and canceled his membership. He reasoned that God didn't need a website to deliver his soul mate. God had been delivering soul mates to human beings for thousands of years before the Internet even existed. James cursed himself for not having realized this sooner.

Karen watched Tanya
as she looked at the website and waited for her reaction. She felt like she had already lived this exact same moment with Paul. She wondered how many more times she'd have to live it. When Tanya finished reading she said, “And this is why he broke up with you?”

Karen said, “Yeah.”

Tanya said, “Karen, I don't even know what to say to any of this. I mean, obviously I was happy when you decided not to get the abortion, but this is just . . . It's not right. I know I'm your friend and I'm supposed to support you through everything, but if I'm being honest, I'm on Paul's side here.”

“Well, I need you to be on my side. I know it's asking for a lot. Paul couldn't give me that, but I need somebody who can or I'm going to crack here.”

“Maybe you should crack. Maybe that's telling you something. Maybe you shouldn't do this.”

“I am doing this, Tanya. When Paul left me, all I did was try to convince myself not to do this, to go back to the way things were before, so that I could get him back. I came as close as I was going to come to shutting it down, but I obviously didn't. The site's live.”

“Have you told your parents?”

“No. I don't want them involved. I don't think they'd get it at all.”

“I don't get it at all.”

“I know. I know. I'm not asking you to do anything except be there for me when I need you. You know, to go to the doctor or to help me get groceries when I start getting really pregnant or just to talk to me when no one else will.”

“You probably know this about me, Karen—that I'm obligated to help you if you ask me, because I'm a Christian, and even though you're doing the most un-Christian thing I could possibly imagine, I know it's not my place to judge you.”

“So you'll help me?”

“I guess so.”

Karen hugged her friend and cried. She said, “Thank you so much, Tanya. I fucking love you.”

“I love you, too. I hate what you're doing, but I love you. And I know I always tease you about how you're going to hell, but you better repent for this one or you really are. I have to get back to study for a test. I'm going to pray for you and for your baby, whether you want me to or not.”

“Do whatever you have to. I might have to call you later tonight.”

“Why?”

“Paul's coming over to pick up some of his stuff. I don't know how I'm going to handle it.”

Tanya said, “I'll be up late, so call if you need to,” then left.

Karen finished eating
a pint of ice cream as she checked her site and saw that the total dollar amount collected had reached a little over five million dollars. She'd known the idea was good since she came up with it, and she assumed it would become national news, which would force the percentage of the population who considered themselves pro-life to take some kind of stance. Knowing all of this, Karen still found it extremely surreal to be staring at the hard evidence of her actions. Five million dollars was a lot of money. It was still nowhere near her ultimate goal of a hundred million, but it was significant, and there was still a lot of time before her deadline. She began to wonder what would happen if the goal of a hundred million was reached, how it would affect the country, how it would affect her, how it would affect the child's life.

She closed her laptop and went to the bathroom to take a shower. Paul was supposed to arrive soon, and even though they were officially over, she couldn't help wanting to look presentable when he got there.

In the bathroom, she stood naked in front of the mirror, looking at her body. This was a habit that Karen succumbed to every day, but more and more she felt like she was looking at a stranger, at an alien who had replaced her.

In the shower, she rubbed her stomach and tried to imagine what it would look like at the final stage of pregnancy. She wondered if she would even make it that far, if the donations would reach her goal. As she moved her hand over one of her breasts, she became aroused. She had read that at some point during pregnancy a woman's libido becomes more intense. She moved her hand from her breast to her vagina and rubbed her clitoris slowly just to test how aroused she actually was.

Less than three minutes later, standing under the running water of her shower, she had masturbated to orgasm. As she dried off she became aware that she had never masturbated in the shower standing up, as she had just done, and she was
also still thinking about sex despite having just had a satisfying orgasm.

She got dressed and headed back into the living room, where she opened her computer back up and checked the donations on her site again. Checking the number had become an obsession of Karen's since launching the site. When she had trouble sleeping because of the pregnancy, sometimes she stayed up for hours, hitting the refresh button and imagining the person who had just donated a dollar or five dollars or ten.

Since launching the site she'd heard nothing from Professor Noone about any expulsion or even reprimand, so she assumed that there was no reason to contact him. Karen decided that until any kind of real opposition from him or the other members of the philosophy school's faculty materialized, it was best to lay low and go on with her experiment.

Karen had also started a detailed journal of the process she was outlining in her dissertation, which she was working on daily. The work she was doing made her feel like all of this was serving a purpose, an empirical and intellectual purpose. She found it difficult to maintain this conviction sometimes, especially when she started thinking about Paul and what this entire ordeal might mean to the other relationships in her life, but the work made it seem worth it. Karen knew that ultimately her life was meaningless, and the best thing she could hope for was that before she died she would have done something that made people think deeply about what she felt was a great hypocrisy. She knew that she could die happy if at some point in her life she had had a hand in causing people to be more critical of religion, of speeding along its demise, which she knew was eventual but which she desperately wanted to occur in her lifetime.

When Paul knocked, Karen shut her computer and answered the door. It was strange letting him into the place as a guest, but she knew this was a part of breaking up that had to be endured.

Paul said, “You were right,” and gave Karen some hope that
maybe he was going to admit he was wrong. Maybe he was going to admit that he made a mistake and maybe he was going to move back in.

Karen said, “About what?”

“About this thing being huge news. It's on every website, every news channel. They even talked about it on
The View
today.”

“Are you serious? What'd Sherri Shepard say?”

“I don't remember.”

“Shit. I'll have to find that online.”

“Yeah, you'd like it. There are a bunch of tweets you should look at, too. Kim Kardashian's was pretty good.”

“I saw it. What a fucking idiot.”

“I just like how she thinks anyone gives a shit about her opinion on this.”

“I know, but honestly, the more people like her talk about this, the better.”

“I really don't think you need it to get much bigger. There's not a person with an Internet connection or a TV who doesn't know about it.”

Karen hated how easy it was to talk to Paul, how easy it was to fall into old patterns. In those brief seconds of small talk it almost felt like they weren't breaking up, like they were talking about someone else.

She said, “Have you told anyone that you . . . that you're involved in this?”

He said, “I'm not involved in this, Karen. I'm not involved at all. That's why I'm moving out.”

“I know, but you know what I mean.”

“No. I haven't told anyone. I know we're breaking up, and I know this is a shitty situation, but I still love you. I probably will for a while, and I don't want people knowing this is you.”

“Why not?”

“Karen, I know it took either massive balls to do this or massive stupidity—and I've never known you to be stupid at all, so
I assumed it was balls—but are you seriously asking me why it would be bad for your identity to get out there?”

“I mean, I know it's a big news story and everything.”

“It's not just a news story. You're shitting all over the majority of this country's religious beliefs. I'm pretty sure they think you're going to burn in hell, and they're probably all too happy to send you there A-S-A-fucking-P.”

“Come on. The only people it will piss off that much are the lunatic-fringe Christians, and even they know killing is a sin. I'm sure they fear pissing off their God more than they hate me.”

“Just be careful.”

“I will.”

“So . . . I just need to get my computer stuff and the rest of my clothes, I guess. You can have the furniture and anything else I helped pay for that was for the apartment.”

“Don't you need furniture? You can have some stuff if you need it.”

He said, “I don't really think I can deal with using the things we used together,” then started to cry a little bit, which made Karen cry as well.

She hugged him and he hugged her back. They stood crying in the living room, just hugging each other and crying for a minute or so. They both felt that they would very likely never meet a person with whom they would be more compatible than the one on whose shoulder they were crying. They both felt that the end to this relationship was avoidable. They both felt that they were losing something irreplaceable in the other person. But Karen knew what she was doing was bigger than personal comfort and happiness. It was affecting the world.

Paul eventually pulled back, wiped his eyes, and said, “Okay, I'm getting my stuff and getting out of here.”

Karen followed him into the bedroom where he started putting his clothes into a plastic trash bag. It was sad to see, but she felt she owed it to their relationship to witness every moment—
especially the final one, for which she knew she was responsible. There was some penance in it. As she stood over him and offered to help, she smelled his shampoo. It was a smell that had always reminded her of sex, and she found that she couldn't stop herself from imagining Paul on top of her, sweating as he was sliding his penis into her. Even as aware as she was of the facts of the situation, that she was watching the man she loved pack his clothes in what was likely the last time she would ever see him, all she could think about was having sex with him one last time.

She said, “Um, I know this is going to sound insane and it's probably just my hormones from being pregnant and everything, but do you want to, uh, have sex one last time?”

Paul looked up from where he was kneeling in the closet, stuffing his trash bag full of clothes and said, “Are you serious?”

Karen said, “Yeah. I'm really fucking horny right now.”

Paul said, “Are you really serious?”

Karen said, “Yes.”

Paul put the trash bag down, stood up, and kissed Karen. She unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and pushed him back onto the bed. She slid his pants off and performed fellatio on him until he was erect, then took her own pants off, slid her panties to the side, straddled him and slid his penis into herself. He said, “Jesus, you weren't kidding.”

She rode him, rocking her hips back and forth with his penis inside her as quickly as she could. Karen had always enjoyed sex, but this was something different. Beyond the normal pleasure she experienced, this time it felt like an itch was being scratched, one that was so deep she couldn't find its exact location. And the orgasm it produced was one of the best she'd ever had.

She climbed off Paul once he finished and said, “I know that was weird, but thank you.”

Paul said, “It was pretty weird. Now I have to pack the rest of my shit and leave. That's even weirder.”

She said, “I know. I'm sorry, but that . . . I really fucking needed that.”

He said, “You know it's not too late to stop this, right?”

She said, “Don't. It is too late. I'm doing this, Paul. I've already done it. It's out there in the world now. Even if I wanted to take it back, I couldn't now.”

“But you could. Your site did what it was supposed to do. People are talking. You could just take it down. No one would ever know it was you, but they'd still be talking about it.”

“I can't do that. I have to see it through. This is important, and I understand why you don't want to be here for it. I do, seriously, and I don't hold it against you or blame you at all, but you have to understand why I'm doing it and that I can't quit until it's done.”

He said, “And what after it's done?”

She said, “I don't know. What do you mean?”

He said, “I mean, after it's done and you've done this crazy thing, you just go on with your life, find some other guy, get pregnant again, have another abortion ransom website?”

She laughed. Even in the worst situations Paul could always make her laugh. She'd miss that. She said, “No. I'm hoping to never get pregnant again. But when it's over, it's over. I'll turn in my dissertation. Based on how the media is treating this, I'll probably be able to publish it, maybe expand it for a book or something, and I'm assuming it'll start my career as a philosopher who actually means something to the world. I mean, when was the last time a philosopher was seen as an important contributor to culture, or to anything for that matter?”

Paul said, “To publish a book, you'll have to go public with your identity.”

Karen said, “I know. Once it's over and things calm down, I think it will be easier to do.”

Paul said, “I know. You're right. I know that objectively. It's just hard for me to think of the rest of my life without you. But I just can't do this with you. I just can't.”