The Accounting of Mothers

The letter from The Board came in Saturday’s mail.

YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED, the letter said.

YOU ARE REQUIRED TO APPEAR BEFORE THE BOARD.

The letter shared the address of the public podium where Mothers go, the time in the morning, 9:30 a.m., which would require Charlotte to stand in a line and wait until her name was called.

The date for The Accounting of Mothers was December 5th, nearly 5 years to the day of Charlotte’s divorce with Johnson.

*

Lucas, Charlotte’s son, and the oldest of her three children, had been watching her more closely lately.

She suspected he was the one who reported her to The Board.

Over the past summer and into the fall, Charlotte had made a habit of going to sit on the lawn after dinner, under the moon, with a glass of wine. She took off her shoes after a long day at work, and she lay on the grass sometimes, her body long and flat, feet falling to the sides, under the darkening night sky. Sometimes, depending on the phase of the moon, she could see constellations. The appearance of stars helped her breathe easier before going back inside to complete the nightly chores.

Lucas watched her from the kitchen window. Each time she came in, he said, “You’re very strange.”

Charlotte laughed it off. Lucas was 15, increasingly distrustful of her. She knew that he and his father spent time talking about her, that Johnson rehashed all the events leading to their divorce. Johnson had always insisted that he was superior to Charlotte.

“Are you an alcoholic now?” Lucas would ask when Charlotte put her wine glass in the sink.

He was a teenager, she reasoned. It was natural for him to complain and judge.

*

Another time, in the fall, Lucas had found Charlotte’s diary, which was tucked away in one of her dresser drawers. Lucas must have rifled through her clothes when she asked him to clear the laundry basket.

In the journal, Charlotte described a romantic affair she had shortly after her divorce with Johnson.

“You are some kind of floozy!” Lucas shouted, holding the journal up in his hands, approaching her while she was sitting on the couch with her daughters Jezzie and Serena. “I found you out!”

Charlotte took the journal from him and slapped his face.

She knew her action would be recorded in some manner or form.

*

In Revision of Hope, the tribal community Charlotte and Johnson grew up in, there were frequent accountings of mothers’ behavior. Charlotte rarely questioned her community’s expectations of mothers, or what life was like before The Great Pandemic that changed everything. She occasionally heard details of how things used to be, from the pamphlets that outliers passed around. Reading those, she’d learned that a radical group called Justice Forgers was able to gain traction with a powerful theory, and Revision of Hope was born. Anne Righteous was the leader, a former judge in the court system, who had a lot of influence and power. Her articles, books, and speaking engagements insisted that The Great Pandemic was a reaction of God’s wrath for the dissolution of the family structure in modern times. If people had lived in closer-knit communities, Anne argued, if they had loved God more and adhered closely to the teachings of the Church, such harm would never have befallen the planet.

Anne Righteous was able to get investors across the globe, particularly in America, to revamp houses in impoverished communities, just as homeless rates were soaring. And by taking over entire towns of abandoned houses, and pushing out remaining homeowners with hefty gifts of money so they would move, Anne and the Justice Forgers were able to create an entirely new living structure for people that more closely aligned to what she termed Sacred Family Structure.

Town halls. Watchers. Agreements by Board members, dated and signed, where human rights were given away in pursuit of The Sacred Family.

One of the main focuses of Justice Forgers was the propriety of mothers. As time elapsed, mothers were watched through computer cameras, personal investigations, social media feeds. The board elected women called Annes to scroll, take notes, and send disciplinary notices for any mother who seemed to be stepping out of bounds.

There were laws in place, and expectations, and a rule book.

Thou shalt not do anything to harm the innocence of children.

Thou shalt not show stomach or shoulders in any public space where children are present.

Thou shalt not speak candidly about feelings where children are present.

Even still, Charlotte had wanted nothing more, ever, than to be a mother.

*

Most kids learned the rules for mothers when they became teenagers, from classes in school. It was natural for them to start looking more closely at their own mothers, inspecting behavior and deciding if the mother was worth reporting to The Board. Charlotte learned the rules at 13, but her love of her mother was so fierce, she never thought of reporting her. She grew to realize that most children overlooked their mothers’ flaws because they did not want to cause harm to the women who birthed them, even though The Annes insisted through advertisements and various notices that people should always report anything about mothers considered “untoward.”

Charlotte stood out in her town because she divorced Johnson. Women who could prove they were abused by their husbands were allowed legal separation and half-time custody of their children. Charlotte took it, after years of suffering without saying a word.

That made Johnson really mad.

After the divorce, Charlotte could live in a way that felt free, and she even considered herself happy. When her children were with Johnson, she could write plays and dance in her living room in the dark with no one judging her. She daydreamed that when her kids were grown, she would leave the Revision of Hope community and find a tribe that honored people’s differences more. She heard about those places. She knew they existed.

Yet now there was The Accounting.

*

With the notice in her hand, Charlotte cornered Lucas one morning before school. He was brushing his teeth. He had gotten fatter in recent months, eating more candy while at his father’s.

“Did you report me to The Board?” she asked.

“You need to answer for yourself,” Lucas said. Then he threw the toothbrush in her face, put on his backpack and went to school.

Charlotte felt like she was living with Johnson again. But if she tried to correct Lucas now, she would risk losing everything.

Jezzie and Serena watched as Charlotte cried and escaped to her bedroom.

*

The night before The Accounting, Charlotte could barely sleep. She kept thinking of the horrible stories she had heard. How some mothers lost their children entirely, or were put in a work community for weeks or months in order to re-learn and re-order according to Revision of Hope rules. She feared that if she were denied access to her children, she would lose her mind, and then be put away in a rehabilitation center for mothers with “brain problems.” If that happened, she might never get out, because they’d give her medication that would affect her memory and functioning. She’d have to let go of her dream of traveling, writing and performing plays, learning more about the world. She feared her kids would be abused by Johnson, the same way she’d been abused.

In the morning, once the children went to school, Charlotte dressed. She chose a simple black shirt and skirt and a grey sweater, because too much black could cause fear of witchcraft. She put her hair in a bun and wore small pearl earrings. She decided to put the heart-shaped locket Jezzie had made for her around her neck, hidden under her collar, a talisman for good luck. Inside the locket was a tiny picture of Jezzie as a baby.

Charlotte did not want to look tired and withdrawn, so she allowed herself a little bit of make-up: blush and mascara instead of eyeshadow or lipstick. She did not wish to look pretty, only composed.

*

Charlotte arrived before 9:30 at the podium and waited in line. There were 5 mothers before her, and as the minutes wore on, she saw she would be the last of the day. She wasn’t sure if that would work in her favor or not.

The four Annes sat at a long table in purple robes. They had short hair, stiff faces. Upon hearing her name called, a mother had to approach and answer a series of questions. The Annes listened and wrote notes. Sometimes, Charlotte knew, a decision would come during The Accounting, and other times, weeks after, through the mail.

As Charlotte listened to the Annes’ questions of the mothers, she brainstormed her own answers.

What are your priorities as a mother?

How do you provide a family climate in adherence with Revision of Hope?

What are your temptations and how do you avoid temptation?

How will you prepare for your Motherly duties over the next year?

Charlotte had what she felt were good answers to all of the questions.

She was ready when her name was called.

“Charlotte Sanger, mother to Johnson Sanger’s children. Please appear.”

Something changed inside Charlotte when she heard that, however. A snap. A spark. A volcano.

It was the designation that her children were his, Johnson’s, and not hers.

Shaking, she stepped toward The Annes.

“What are your priorities as a mother?” Anne 1 asked.

“The health, happiness, and well-being of my children,” responded Charlotte.

Anne 1 stopped for a moment, took a breath. The typical answer was “Adhering to the rules of Revision of Hope.”

Anne 1’s eyes narrowed.

The next Anne spoke. “How do you provide a family climate in adherence with Revision of Hope?”

“I give my children hope that there can be a better way for people going forward,” she said. “That we can all be happy.”

Anne 2 swallowed and looked around. The Annes peeked at each other from the sides of their eyes. Charlotte could see and feel their bodies tense.

“What are your temptations, and how do you avoid temptation?” Anne 3 asked.

In this, Charlotte decided not to speak at all.

The question was a trick, she knew. It required an admission of guilt over something, which went into a record somewhere, which allowed The Annes and other investigators to watch her incessantly under the guise of “protection.”

“Charlotte?” Anne 3 said.

Charlotte blinked before she finally spoke. “I have a few questions for you.”

Each Anne scrunched her shoulders and leaned back. The Annes were not meant to show feeling or emotion, but their shock was palpable.

“As a mother in Revision of Hope, am I allowed to be a human?” she asked. “Am I allowed to have flaws?”

The Annes remained quiet. Charlotte spoke again.

“Does a mother have any authority in her own home?”

Charlotte stepped away from the podium, beginning to walk toward The Annes.

“I want to know,” Charlotte said.

Anne 1 pursed her lips, and her eyes widened.

“Guard!” Anne 1 yelled. Her voice sounded anxious and desperate, as though she’d been removed from her throne.

The guard appeared, a handsome man dressed in suit and black bowtie. “Yes, Madame?”

“Take her to the ward.”

“Yes, Madame.”

“She’s sick.”

The guard nodded and grabbed Charlotte’s arm, pulling her away.

Charlotte felt Jezzie’s heart-shaped locket bumping against her chest. She was glad she’d worn it. She wondered if they would let her keep it in the ward, if she told them who it was from.

As the guard pushed Charlotte out of the door, she heard a different voice, one she assumed was Anne 4, say, “I didn’t get my turn to ask a question.”