Men
Melissa did not start talking until 2 years and 2 months, but then the questions never stopped. Her moms, Dayna and Tiri, were fielding the firehose of questions as 5-year-old Mel circled them like a puppy on their weekly walk through the pristine Green. Dozens of other women and girls filled the Green, a playground for young and old.
Then the moment — the moment all moms dreaded but knew was inevitable — arrived.
“Mommy.” Mel stopped on the perfectly maintained sidewalk, not caring which one answered, and pointed up. “What’s that?”
Shading their eyes from the sun, the moms raised their sights, and there he was: a man. Obviously repairing something on a pole.
“Oh, honey,” Tiri attempted. “You know what a light pole is.”
“Mom.” Melissa, as had been her wont lately, balled up her little fists and set them upon her hips. Had she been born a century earlier, she might have been mistaken for a kindergarten Supergirl. “You know what I mean.”
Tiri and Dayna glanced at each other. “You wanna take this?” Tiri asked.
“Gee, thanks, honey,” Dayna smiled. Melissa knew somehow it wasn’t a happy smile as her mom crouched down. “That’s a man, baby.”
“Like we learned from our implant? But I thought they all live off somewhere else.”
Dayna brushed her daughter’s hair out of her eyes. “Most of them do, baby. But a few of them choose to live here, with us, and take care of certain things.”
“Like lights!” Melissa said triumphantly — then quickly added, “Can the man come down here and play with us?” She blasted her voice upward. “Hey, Man — can you come down and play with us?”
Melissa!” Tiri hissed. “You don’t talk to them like that!” The mom called up, getting a glimpse of the man’s friendly features. “Sorry! She’s only five!”
The man simply smiled, shrugged, and waved.
“Bye, Man!” Melissa screamed. Nice smile, Dayna thought. She kept it to herself.
++++
Everything was fine for another six years. Then, like a mysterious virus causing mass hallucination through early adolescence, every girl in Mel’s weekly social learning class simply had to have a Man. Despite their training in how Men were responsible for wars, crime, violence and all manner of unspeakable ills, and that most Men had chosen exile after male fertility had dropped to near zero, all the girls were consumed by the fad.
Moms were beside themselves. But women were also enterprising.
Seemingly overnight, Rent-A-Dad franchises popped up. Then came the adoption fairs.
Mel was crazy for the Men idea, but she still had questions.
“But if we got a Man,” she asked her weary moms as they all sat on their massive sofa one evening, “what are they good for? I mean, what does one do with one?”
“Well,” Tiri said, smirking a bit, “I understand they are good for opening jars and reaching things on high shelves.”
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Dayna gently elbowed Tiri in the ribs. “You’re a lot of help.”
“I heard they used to hold doors for women,” Tiri continued.
“Like in a bear hug?” Mel asked, scrunching up her face. “Did doors used to attack us?”
“Let’s try this again,” Dayna intoned, glancing at her partner, then turning to face Mel. “Honey, are you sure you want one? You have to realize this isn’t a toy. It’s a living creature, like us, and it could live a really long time. There are all kinds, and it might take a while to pick just the right one for our family.”
Mel thought for what seemed an hour, then brushed away a tear. “I can’t explain it,” she said to the pair of humans she loved more than anyone. “I … just want one.”
++++
They went to adoption fairs at the Green, but couldn’t find the elusive Man. Finally, at the third, as her moms were buying ice cream cones, Mel spotted a Man sitting on a Green bench under a broad oak. He wasn’t like the others. He had wrinkles, for one thing, and white hair in his neatly trimmed beard, for another. Mel recognized the uniform of a maintenance worker. She trotted over, fearlessly. His uniform stencil was embroidered AZL 9041.
“Hi,” she blurted, and before the Man could respond, “are you up for adoption? If so, why? Oh, my name’s Mel. By the way.”
“Hi Mel,” the man greeted her in a rich voice that, had she known, she would have called a baritone. “Yes, I am. And it’s because I’m a bit lonely and would like some people to interact with. I spent most of my time fixing electrical equipment at the power station. There’s not many people around, most of the time.”
Dayna and Tiri came running up. Dayna to the Man: “We’re so sorry. She’s not bothering you, is she? She tends to be a curious kitty.”
“It’s fine,” the Man said.
“Are you over here by yourself because you haven’t been adopted? Because you’re old?” the girl asked.
“Melissa Ann!” Dayna admonished her daughter, then blushingly turned to the Man. “We’re so sorry! Sometimes she’s impossible.”
“She’s very insightful,” the Man replied. “I do think that’s why. Most girls and moms don’t want a 58-year-old.”
Mel looked him, and then her moms, straight in the eye. “Well,” she proclaimed, “I do.”
She turned back to the man. “I think I’ll name you Azelea, after what’s on your uniform. It’s my favorite flower.”
Dayna whispered in Tiri’s ear. “You haven’t said much.”
Tiri hid a tear from her daughter, then whispered back. “I miss my Dad.”
++++
“Are you ready?” Azalea crooked out his arm to Mel. Nineteen years later, the fad of Men, some now called Dads, of walking their girls down the aisle was in vogue. “Charlie won’t wait forever.”
Mel kissed Azal on the cheek. “Thanks for agreeing to come into our lives.”
“Hey,” Azal said, “a few jars, a few shelves.”
“A few jars,” Mel repeated, taking his arm, “a few shelves. And once in a while, a light.”
