Matronly Duties

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Authors: Melissa Kendall
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why I am so emotional all of a sudden, but I do not like it. Howard places a comforting hand on my knee.
    “Why don’t you see your family?” Howard’s almost thirteen-year-old sister, Jean, asks.
    I’m not sure how to explain, but I do my best. “When I completed my FMAT, and it was determined I would be completing my schooling at the institute, I had to leave my home and move to MITI. We are only allowed to see our families three times a year—at Christmas, on our birthdays, and on Dedication Day.”
    “But why?” she asks, sounding horrified.
    I once would have said that’s how it has to be, but now I’m not so sure.
    “I think it is part of their way of preparing us to be Matron. Maybe so we are not too distracted from our studies. It is a very lonely existence.” I mumble at the end, not sure if any one hears me.
    “I am glad I don’t have to worry about that,” Jean says.
    I look at her, my brow furrowed. “Why don’t you have to worry about it?”
    “Well . . .” Jean looks to her mum as if confirming it is okay to talk. When Rhonda nods she continues. “Seeing as, according to the government, I don’t officially exist, I won’t have to take the test.”
    Now I’m even more perplexed. “Why don’t you exist?”
    Rhonda takes over and answers, “Only babies born at the hospitals are registered on official birth records. All my children, except for Howard, were birthed at home. Meaning the government doesn’t know they exist.”
    “You gave birth at home?” I ask, flabbergasted.
    “Yes. Giving birth is completely natural. Your body pretty much knows what to do all by itself.”
    “But . . .” My mouth opens and closes. “But what about the doctors? Did they come to your home?”
    “Nope,” Rhonda says, sounding very proud of the fact. “It was just me, Anthony, and a friend who had experience with homebirths.”
    I am at a complete loss, never having heard such a thing before. I have always been made to believe that if a baby wasn’t born at a hospital, it would die.
    Obviously sensing my confusion and disbelief, Rhonda continues. “It’s not as horrific as it sounds. It was a common method of giving birth during the ancestors’ time. I have a book on it if you ever want to read it.”
    “Thank you,” I respond. “I’m pretty sure children aren’t in my future, but I am curious nonetheless.”
    I am expecting someone to ask why I won’t be having children, as it is a common societal preconception that all women will have their two allowed children. Nobody says anything, however, and conversation turns to the family’s plans for the afternoon.
    Claire, Brad, Jean, and Tim talk about their chores. It seems Monday afternoon is for laundry and cleaning bedrooms. The entire time they are chatting, Howard doesn’t say a word, he just sits quietly and finishes his lunch. When he is finished, he helps his mum with the dishes, then checks on what his brothers and sisters are doing. It intrigues me how much he seems to care about his siblings in an almost parental way. When he’s done, he returns to the seat next to me.
    “Would you like to come for a walk with me?”
    “Um . . .”
    “I promise I don’t have any nefarious plans. I just . . . want to show you something.”
    I should say no. Going for a walk, who knows where, with Howard is a bad idea. As much as I’m attracted to him and want to spend more time with him, nothing good can come from getting in deeper than I already am. Curiosity gets the better of me, though.
    “I’d love to.”
    A giant grin lights up his whole face. My heart races in my chest, and I’m almost certain if someone were to look closely, they’d see it thumping against my skin.

 
     
     
    Chapter 5
     
    When we leave the Jameses’ compound, we head away from the city. We walk for about fifteen minutes, and as I begin to recognise the landmarks, I realise our destination is the catacombs. The memory of yesterday’s events stops me

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