Tales of the City 05 - Significant Others

sperm!” said Edgar, laughing triumphantly.
    DeDe stared at him in horror. “Where did you hear that?”
    The boy hesitated, then said: “Anna told me.”
    “I did not,” said Anna.
    “Yes you did.”
    “Liar!”
    “All right, both of you! Let’s keep it down back there!” This was D’or, raising her voice above the din. There was just enough menace in her tone to command the silence of the twins. DeDe both admired and resented D’or’s flair for authority. Why couldn’t mothers invoke such terror?
    As they drove through Monte Rio, D’or turned to DeDe and said: “I guess ol’ Booter’s around here somewhere.”
    DeDe nodded. “Across that bridge and to the left.”
    “To the left, huh. Must be tough for the old fascist.”
    DeDe shot her a nasty look meaning Not in front of the children.
    D’or persisted. “That’s fair enough, I think. He laid a wreath on a Nazi grave.”
    “It was a reconciliation ceremony. You know that.”
    “Sure.”
    “And it was part of his official duties.”
    “Mmm.”
    “It was also a peacemaking gesture,” said DeDe tartly. “Aren’t you supposed to be in favor of that?”
    D’or shrugged. “I don’t notice him making peace with the Russians.”
    DeDe frowned at her lover, then turned and gazed out the window. She was hardly Booter’s biggest defender, but she hated it when D’or used him to pick a fight. What was going on, anyway? Why was D’or looking for trouble?
    “Mom?” said Edgar.
    “Yes, darling?”
    “How much longer?”
    “Oh, two or three miles at the most. Do me a favor, will you?”
    “What?”
    “Don’t tell that joke when we get there.”
    After Monte Rio, the landscape opened up to the blazing blue sky. The river wound lazily toward the Pacific, flanked by summer-humming thickets and shiny white thumbnails of sand. They crossed the bridge at Duncans Mills (groaning at the self-conscious Old Westernness of the storefronts), then turned left on the river road.
    “ ‘Moscow Road,’ “ said D’or, reading the sign. “Now, here’s a road worth turning left on.”
    DeDe smiled, feeling mellower now. She reached over and squeezed D’or’s leg. “What an adventure,” she said.
    They followed the road into a small stand of willows, which obscured their view of the river. Next came an imposing hedge of evergreens and an equally imposing redwood fence. “The security looks good,” said D’or.
    It reminded DeDe vaguely of the approach to the Golden Door, her favorite fat farm of yesteryear, but she decided not to say so. She turned to the kids instead.
    “So,” she said, hoping her newfound enthusiam was contagious. “You guys are gonna have your very own tent.”
    The twins said “Yay!” in unison, their Nerd dispute all but forgotten.
    “Look,” chimed D’or. “Here we are.”
    A young black woman stood by the roadside, flagging them into the entrance. D’or slowed down, turned left, and spoke to the woman. “Registration?”
    “All the way down,” said the woman. “Park first and unload your gear. There’s a shuttle to the land.”
    “The land of what?” asked DeDe.
    The woman laughed and leaned into the car. “The land of Looney Tunes, if you ask me.” She stuck out her hand to D’or. “I’m Teejay,” she said. “Welcome to Wimminwood.”
    “Thanks. I’m D’orothea. These are DeDe, Edgar and Anna.”
    Teejay smiled and raised a pink palm in the window. “Hi, guys.” Turning to D’or, she pointed at DeDe. “Tell her about the land,” she said.
    D’or gave her a high sign and drove on.
    “Well,” said DeDe. “Tell me about the land.”
    D’or smiled. “It’s just a term for the encampment. It fosters a sense of community.”
    Maybe to you, thought DeDe.
    D’or parked in a dusty clearing that was already chockablock with cars. Several dozen other arrivals were in the process of disembarking, hooting hellos, hoisting their bedrolls to their shoulders.
    “We just leave the car here?” DeDe asked.
    “You got it,” said D’or. She turned to the kids. “O.K., gang, here’s the deal. Everybody grab a handful of stuff. Mom and I will get the tents and the heavy things. You get the bedrolls and whatever’s left.”
    The twins tackled this chore with uncharacteristic vigor. DeDe cast an optimistic glance in D’or’s direction, then threw herself into the team effort.
    Judging from the other new arrivals, their own paraphernalia was quite Spartan indeed. Some of these women were weighed