Flash Fiction: The Fertility Pilgrim

Lortimer thought the woman sitting next to him, Drea, was very odd. The entire flight she had engaged him with incessant conversation, drawing up every spare moment of his time. There was something almost urgent in her need for his attention.

“Isn’t that just a fantastic view?” Drea asked, gripping Lortimer’s arm and shaking it, violating his personal space in abnormal way. She was pointing out the portal at the Earth and Moon in the distance.

“Yes,” Lortimer agreed quietly. “Just like in the photos.”

“Yeah, but Lortimer,” Drea rolled her eyes, “this is for real. Come on! Get excited! We’re almost home.”

“Um,” Lortimer cleared his throat. “Yay.”

“You are such a character!” Drea punched his arm and he flinched. Then her eyes grew still and serious, “I’ve really enjoyed our flight together Lortimer.”

“Me too,” Lortimer replied with a slight shrug.

“No,” she reached across him to slide the cabin door shut and whispered raspily in his ear, “I mean, I’ve really taken a liking to you.” She placed a firm hand on his chest, her breath heavy against his neck.

Lortimer’s pulse quickened at the though of all the bacteria this woman was undoubtedly spraying on him and he shrank back slightly, “You’re a very nice girl.”

She began unbuttoning her blouse like in those ancient films. She took his hand and placed it on her breast. She said, “I want you inside me.”

Lortimer frowned, trying to understand this last sentence, and he quickly withdrew his hand, scooting away from her on the seat, “I’m sorry, but that sounds very unsanitary.”

“What?!?” Drea slapped both hands on the seat where Lortimer was just sitting. “It’s natural!”

“So’s eating and defecating,” Lortimer drew his carry-on pack up to his chest, “but you don’t see me soiling myself with those biological processes.”

Drea’s eyes welled up suddenly. “Eunuch!” she spat and flopped over on the seat, crying against the wall and chanting some sort of gibberish between sobs. It sounded oddly familiar to Lortimer, and suddenly he knew her whole story, feeling deeply sorry for her.

This girl was part of a dwindling population, a community in desperate need of fresh DNA in order to survive. The fact that they had almost returned to Earth meant Lortimer was her last chance for a successful pilgrimage. A successful pregnancy would return her to the cult a hero, but would also condemn him to a life on the reservations.

A news story Lortimer read once reported that many of these pilgrims were choosing not to return to their communities after tasting life off world. There was so much more to life than baby-making and mere survival. Perhaps Lortimer could help convert another pilgrim to the whole wide universe of possibilities?

“Excuse me,” Lortimer lighted his hand on her shoulder in a manner similar to the way she had done with him earlier. Drea’s sobbing immediately lessened and her chanting stopped, “Would you like to see the Lunar Gardens with me when we land?”