by M. Demetrice
“Demi's got the evening primrose. Says it'll take a baby out.” Beth gave a little shrug, one of her bra straps dislodging and sliding down. She thumbed it back up. “Prolly give it to ya. I kin ask.”
Nessa nodded, her hands circling her abdomen. “Please. Soon.”
***
Beth returned a week later with a dinner tray and tin full of yellow primrose powder.
That night Nessa clung to the chamber pot and tried to bear the pain. Her bowels cramped; her stomach churned. Sweat dripped from her forehead and trailed down her neck as she held herself over the pot. The evening primrose tore through her body like a plague. It would devour her insides and leave her hollow. Another cramp hit low in her gut. She bit her lip and moaned. She needed to vomit, but worried she'd wake Marlin snoring in the bed across the room. She dropped her head to her knees. Goddamn Beth. Probably poisoned her out of jealousy.
Another cramp twisted her bowels and Nessa began to pant. Her shaking arms finally gave out and she slumped to the floor, shivering in pools of cold sweat. As she curled into a fetal position, her eyes focused on a blackened whorl in the wooden plank that looked strangely like the Christ-man her ma was always cursing. Nessa would pray if she knew any words. Instead she tucked her head to her chest and tried to fill her lungs.
Of all the ridiculous ways to die.
***
She woke to arms lifting her.
Her eyes fluttered open. Marlin held her to his bare chest, his youthful face wrinkled in concern. Dawn light, seeping in the barred window, painted the room a dull orange. She'd slept the night on the floor and felt it, too. Every part of her ached. And her bowels… She placed her hand to her stomach and moaned. A team of horses was playing tug of war with her insides.
Marlin laid her on the bed and hovered over her like a fretful mother. “What happened? Are ya sick?” He brushed a sweaty strand of hair off her forehead.
“Water.” Her throat felt like desert hard pan.
Marlin ran over, tugged on a shirt and barreled out the door. He footsteps thumped loudly as he plunged down the stairs.
Nessa closed her eyes and breathed. Please don’t let me soil Marlin’s bed, she prayed.
The door banged open and Marlin stomped through, dragging Beth behind him. Beth’s face contorted in fear as he flung her into the room and shut the door. She scuttled to a corner, arms around herself.
Nessa propped up on her elbows and raised a questioning eyebrow at Marlin.
“This cooz says to me in the kitchen, 'How's the ol’ lady doin'?'.” Marlin pulled Beth forward, his hand squeezed a red ring around her arm. “So, I asks myself, how the hell she know you's sick less she had somethin' to do with it?” He squeezed Beth's arm until she gasped.
Beth sagged under his gaze. One trembling hand pushed back a wild lock of hair. “I jist did what she tole me to.” She shot a desperate gaze at Nessa. “She's the one who wanted the baby gone.”
Nessa froze. Now he knew. What would Marlin do to her?
Marlin released Beth's arm, his jaw dropping. Beth staggered to the bureau, her head down, motionless, like a lizard trying to blend into the dust until the predator moved on.
Nessa wouldn't be so lucky.
Marlin clomped to the bed and laid both hands on either side of her. His eyes were wild, violent as he hovered over her. Fear fluttered in her chest. He'd strike her. Strike her, or worse, drag her out into the street and let the dogs have her. She pulled back into the mattress, but there was nowhere to hide.
“What's she sayin'?” With his morning stubble and venomous scowl, Marlin was every bit a gunslinger.
She stammered a response, willing tears into her eyes. “I…I didn't want to burden you.” She was very aware of his big hands inches from her throat. “I didn't think you'd want me after. . .” she dropped her eyes, “after I was round as a stuck pig and twice as useless. I thought I'd take care of it.”
He said nothing. When she found the courage to meet his eyes, they were wet. She didn't understand until he lowered himself down gently beside her. One hand found her stomach as the other wrapped around her shoulders.
“My son,” he said, kissing the swell of her belly just below the navel.
She smiled, but inside she shivered.
A baby. Dear Christ-man Jesus, how?
***
Once Marlin knew she was pregnant, he was a different man. He came home more nights, often laden with books. In later months he found endless joy in feeling the baby kick and talking about the escapades he and the boy would go on. Always he and the boy. Nessa grew certain once the boy was pulled squalling from her loins the two of them would be off into the sunset without her. She'd be ruined, perfect roadside trash for someone to pick up and use again. Someone just like Big Mike.
Nessa did not find the whole process so amazing. Her belly swelled like a watermelon. Her arms and buttocks grew flabby despite the daily hour of calisthenics she did beside her bed: leg lifts, dips, sit-ups until she could no longer peel herself off the floor. The baby sapped her strength both day and night. It pressed on her bladder until she spent half the day on the chamber pot. At night the thing rolled inside her. She found it so bizarre, this alien being taking over her body.
One night as Nessa slept, Marlin came in and laid a hand on her cheek. She blinked up at him.
“I got a surprise,” he said, beaming.
Nessa pushed up on her elbows. What in the world could make him so pleased with himself?
He held up a black trench cloak. “Get up. I'm takin' ya somewhere.”
Nessa shook the sleep from her head and stared at him. She hadn't left the brothel since he brought her here seven months ago. “What're you talking about?” She hauled her body up, throwing her swollen legs over the side of the bed. She glanced out the window. The full moon lit up a quiet street. “What time is it?”
“Late,” he said, pulling her up.
“Marlin, I'm tired. What's so important?”
He shook his head, handing her the shapeless slippers that barely stretched over her feet. “You'll like it,” he said, his hand on the small of her back, pushing her toward the door. “We gotta hurry.”
Nessa sighed. She let Marlin lead her down the stairs and out the back door where a rusty truck with no doors idled. Nessa raised an eyebrow. “You got a truck?”
Marlin smirked, his blue eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “Borrowed it. We're headin' outta town for a bit. Git in.” He nodded to the door-less cab.
Nessa grabbed the handle and hauled herself in. She hadn't walked further than to the bureau or chamber pot since her pregnancy. Only now did she see how slow she was. If she were forced to run or hide, she wouldn't get three feet.
“Where are we going?” she asked, unable to keep the exasperation out of her voice.
Marlin didn't look at her. Moonlight flashed off the hood as he pulled the truck out over the pitted road. “Keep that cloak tight on ya. And you might want to buckle in. Road gets pretty rough outside town.” He turned and winked at her mischievously.
Nessa pulled the trench tight around her swollen belly and glowered into the night sky. This had better be good.
Marlin drove for a half an hour over pitted, sand-splashed roads that grew steadily worse the farther they drove. The moon was full and bright, reminding Nessa of her large melon of a stomach she struggled to hide beneath the fluttering trench coat. She sat upright, eyes flitting across every dark corner, marking every shadowy rock formation. Road gangs roamed this time of night. If someone were to stop them, it would take seconds to spot her as female. She eyed the revolver Marlin kept stuffed in the front of his pants. What errand could be so important that he would risk exposing her?
They approached a desolate town. Broken buildings lined both sides of the street, their glassless windows like sunken eyes. Sand had eradicated most of the road. Marlin turned down a side street and Nessa spotted a body that had decayed to a clothed skelet
on lying on the sidewalk. She reached for Marlin's arm.
“I got you,” he said, not looking over. Such utter confidence.
He pulled up to a two-story brick building, parked the car and got out. Nessa stayed put, staring at the decaying store front. What could he possibly want to show her?
Marlin appeared at her door and held out his hand.
“Marlin, what are we–”
“Goddammit, Nessa, jist get outta the truck.” He thrust his hand out again. This time she took it.
He helped her up the crumbling concrete steps to the entrance. She looked for signage, but found none. Marlin led her into the open entryway and then fumbled with the gas lamp he had brought. Nessa stood in the near-pitch darkness waiting and listening. She wrapped her arms around her body and felt terribly vulnerable.
The gas lamp flared to life and Marlin lifted it high. The room vast, with high ceilings and little furniture. A few dusty plastic chairs were piled by a window. An armchair, faded and peeled down to its springs, sat by an open window. The floor was scattered with paper and debris. Nessa spotted a broken shelf and a tennis shoe before Marlin swung the light away.
He took her hand and nodded toward a dark stairwell. “This way.”
He led her to a shadowed hall. The stairwell below ended in a puddle of blackness. The hairs on Nessa's neck rose. “Marlin, I'm not sure I want to see.”
He nodded. “Ya will.” Then he pulled her down.
The stairs creaked and moaned with each step, making Nessa cringe. They stopped at the landing. A closed wooden door separated them from whatever waited on the other side.
Marlin turned the handle and the door slid open. Nessa tensed and held her breath.
Books. Shelves and shelves of books lined the walls of the room in front of them.
Nessa placed a hand to her heart, her mouth dropping open. “Oh, Marlin.” She let her eyes wander, taking in the sight of all those spines lined up in neat rows. The whole world to explore in a sea of delicate pages.
Marlin leaned in, wrapped his arms around her belly and pressed his lips to her neck. “You like it, yeah? Upstairs must've been one of them li-berries or whatever they call 'em. All them books fell apart, but down here they mostly okay.”
She nodded, gripping his arms. There was a swelling in her chest she couldn't name. Was this what love felt like? How could she know? She'd never felt it. Not even her parents had loved her enough to share something like this with her.
Nessa took a step forward and lovingly touched one leather spine with her index finger. The title said Encyclopedia. Her heart fluttered.
She wrapped her arms around Marlin's neck and kissed him. Then she leaned back and gazed around the room.
“How many can we take?”
***
The last months of her pregnancy flew by. The stacks of books on either side of her bed kept her busy from morning until night. She read until her eyes burned and her head throbbed. She'd gone through the whole Encyclopedia set, twenty novels and countless other books on topics from psychology to dog breeding. It amazed her the things people used to care about. She'd read a whole book dedicated to applying make-up. Make-up. Imagine the thought of trying to entice a man to want you. Nessa had spent her whole life trying to repel them.
It was the science books that fascinated her most. Every element of her world striped down to bare bones with terms like atom, fusion, ionization. The things one could do with science. It was the closest man could come to being God.
She'd filled her head with knowledge until she felt it might burst. It amazed her to know that the rolls she ate for lunch were leavened with yeast, that the sore on Beth's lip was Herpes Simplex, that she was now in her third trimester of pregnancy. When Beth came to deliver her meals, she tried to share her knowledge with the sad-eyed woman, but Beth just stared. Nessa's head was full of knowledge, but how could she use it? What good did it do to know if you couldn't apply?
She was eight months along when Marlin blew into their room, a knife cut bleeding through his breast pocket. He staggered in, blood pattering on the floor, his eyes wide with fear. Nessa dropped the yellowing human anatomy text book and sat up.
“What happened?!” She heaved her body out of bed and reached for his wound.
He shoved her hand away, limped to the bureau and grabbed fistfuls of clothing. “Pack,” he snapped. His voice was raw. A welt swelled below his right eye. “We leave now.”
“Why?” She hobbled to the bureau and dragged out the cotton shift Beth had sown her, one of the only things that fit. She slipped it over her giant belly and watched as Marlin stuffed clothes in a bag. Then he clomped to the bed and leaned under it. Nessa's eyes followed his trail of blood. So much blood. What could've–
The door banged open and two men shoved in.
Nessa screamed. Marlin stood up, a revolver already in his hand.
One of the men leveled a shotgun at Marlin's chest, a dangerous smile spreading under his mustache. “Uh uh, my fine friend. Thought you'd get the drop on us? Now, we get the drop on you.”
The gunman smirked, his mustache twitching like a dirty brown caterpillar. He was gangly in an underfed sort of way. A long greasy ponytail trailed behind his ball cap. His hooked nose looked like it had been broken many times over. He flashed a nearly toothless grin. “Weren't too kind a ya to stick Bill like that.” He nodded to his partner.
Bill glowered and held up a bandaged hand, blood soaking through the dirty binding. He was squat and filthy, in homespun dungarees and a shapeless cotton shirt. A sweat-stained leather Stetson was crammed over his matted black hair. A knife hilt leaned out of the front of his pants. “Son-of-a-bitch.” He spat. “I'll take my revenge out on your face.”
Marlin flashed his teeth. “I was aiming for yer throat, Bill. Next time, I'll git it right.”
With the shotgun leveled on Marlin, the gunman craned his head toward Nessa. “This her?” A smile spread on his face as he dragged his eyes over Nessa's body. “This what all the fuss is about?”
Marlin took a step forward, his eyes blazing. “Don't go near her, or a finger ain't all you stand to lose.”
Nessa took a step back, wishing she could scramble under the bed. Goddamn her huge body.
Bill drew the warped kitchen knife from his pants, the rusty blade glinting in the gas light. “Doc says we get to take her.” Bill licked his thin lips and took another step forward. He was close enough now for Nessa to see the sheen of sweat on his upper lip. “If we bring her in clean, we get to have a night with her before they sell her off.” He smiled disgustingly. Nessa shuddered.
Marlin shoved the gun forward, his arm stiffening. “You lay one hand on her and I'll blow yer insides out yer outsides. Back up, Bill, goddamn it! Back up!”
The men stood stock still. Marlin was the picture of calm, arm aimed, no tremble though his hand was slick with blood. Nessa clutched her face and waited. How could they get out of this? She flicked her eyes between both sides. The other men looked so sloppy compared to Marlin: they let their eyes wander, their minds slip. Nessa felt the fear fall away. All Marlin needed was a distraction. She'd been a distraction her whole life.
Nessa took a step towards Bill. “Too bad you aren't a real man,” she said, putting a delicate hand on his chest. His shirt was stiff with dirt and smelled like a horse pen. She ignored the revulsion, her hand humming with anticipation. She lifted her eyes, fluttered her lashes and ran her tongue over her lips. Bill sucked in a hard breath, his jaw dropping. Nessa looked down at Bill's pants and shrugged. “Can't even get it up when you need it, huh, Billy?”
The gunman chuckled behind them. Bill's face twisted in anger as he shot a venomous look at his partner. Then he snatched Nessa's arm and squeezed. “I'll show you getting it up,” he said, raising the knife.
A gun exploded.
The shot cracked from across the room. Nessa ducked, screaming. Beside the door, the gunman's head cracked open like a
melon. Red and gray mess splattered against the wall and slid down in clumps. His legs unhinged and he fell hard. Bill turned, his knife arching up. Another gun shot. Bill caught the second bullet, his body rippling backwards. His hand released Nessa's arm as he clutched at the wide red hole where his heart used to be. Blood squirted between his fingers in a red spray. Nessa gripped her face, but she watched, horrified and fascinated at the same time.
Bill dropped to his knees, his eyes rolling and his mouth opening and shutting like a fish. He gurgled a few indistinguishable words before he hit the floor. Then everything was still.
Nessa's ears buzzed as she stared, trying to put together what just happened. The blood pooling at her feet was warm. She shivered and stepped back.
Marlin was over the bed in seconds, arms around her, pulling her to his chest. He stroked her hair like a mother consoling a child. “It's okay. It's okay.”
She nodded and let him pet her, but she wasn't afraid. Awed maybe. Surprised by the sudden violence, but not afraid. Those men had been too stupid to fear.
The door pushed open and several men poured in. Gun barrels filled the doorway. Marlin's arms stiffened around her. Two men he could take, but six or seven? Nessa's heart sank.
A man stepped through the sea of guns. He was dressed in pressed black slacks, shiny boots and a brocade vest. Wire-rimmed spectacles perched on his slim nose. His white hair and mustache were expertly oiled.
He strode in the room like he owned it and surveyed the dead men. “Made a goddamn mess, Marlin. This was…” he lifted his pristine boot and inspected the sticky blood now marring its surface, “unnecessary.”
“Doc,” Marlin said, still holding her, “these bastards–”
“These bastards,” Doc said, looking down at the dead men, “were my cousins, idiots that they were.” He crossed his arms over his little paunch belly and leveled a disappointed stare at Marlin. “You knew I'd bring you in sooner or later. We could've done it without all this bloodshed.”
“Bogue told you, that son-of-a-bitch.” Marlin squeezed her tighter. She couldn't breathe.
“Doesn't matter who told me. I'd've found out anyway. You know that as well as anyone,” Doc said, tucking his hands into his pockets.