The Fifth Circle

by Tricia Drammeh

  “Don’t cry, baby,” I whispered, kissing her forehead. “I’ll talk to your mom. She’ll let you move in here with us and we’ll be a family.”

  “No! I don’t want to tell anyone yet—not until after graduation.”

  “You’re pregnant with my baby. We should be together. I want you to move in here right away.”

  “Not yet. I’ll move in here in June, I guess, but it would be better if we had our own place. It’ll be weird living right next to my parents.”

  “How the hell are we gonna do that? I don’t have any money right now. I wasted our savings on that fucking lawyer.”

  “I could get a job…”

  “No. You’re pregnant. I don’t want you working. It might cause you to lose the baby. After the baby’s born, I want you to stay home. I’ll work and take care of us.”

  “Okay, but…”

  “We’ll tell my mom and your parents tonight.”

  “No. Sean…look, I can’t deal with all this right now. My mom is getting ready to go out of town tomorrow night to help take care of my aunt. When she comes back from Cape, it’ll almost be time to graduate. After that…”

  “So, you don’t want to live with me. Is that it?”

  “I want to. I just…”

  “What? You just want go back to that hellhole you call a house and wait for your dad to do something horrible to you? No. You’re practically my wife and we need to stay together.”

  “Just let me wait until my mom comes back from Cape. She’s stressed enough right now. I can’t give her more crap to worry about.”

  “What about me? I’m more stressed than anyone. Court dates, I’m failing two classes…and now, you’re bailing on me?”

  “Two weeks, Sean. That’s all I’m asking.” She started to cry then—great big snotty, gasping sobs. She clutched her middle and started dry heaving, so I helped her to the bathroom to throw up.

  When she was done, I asked, “How long have you been puking?”

  “A couple of months, but not every day. I was so worried about you, so I just assumed I was sick to the stomach because of that.”

  That was the nicest thing she’d ever said to me—that she was so worried about me, it made her physically ill to think about me going to jail. Two weeks. I’d give her two weeks, but no more.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured, leading her back to my room. We sat down on the bed, and I stretched out beside her, pulling her down to lie next to me. “You’re right. We’ll give it a couple of weeks, then we’ll tell everyone.”

  I put my hand on her stomach. Maybe there was a slight bump, but it was hard to tell. Still, I imagined I could feel our baby growing inside her.

  “Just be careful, Alex. If your dad hears you throwing up, he might suspect something,” I said. Might as well implant the idea that she can’t keep her pregnancy a secret forever. “You might want to wear baggy clothes, but not too baggy, or he’ll know something’s up.”

  Her back rested against my chest, so I could feel her breathing hitch. She was afraid. Good. I smiled into her hair and continued speaking. “There’s no telling what he’ll do when he finds out, so hopefully, when he does discover our secret, you won’t be living there anymore.”

  I remained silent and let her fear fester before speaking again. “I’ll talk to my mom. You’ll have to have somewhere to go, because your dad will for sure kick you out when he finds out about the baby.”

  I hated to make her feel like I was her only option, but it was the only way I knew how to keep her with me forever. It was the truth, though—her dad would flip shit when he found out. In his mind, Alex belonged to him. Of course, now that she was grown, he might have lost interest. It was the little girls he liked to mess with.

  “Just promise me something,” I said. “Promise me that if something ever happens to me, you won’t live with your parents. Especially if we have a girl. I don’t want the same thing that happened to you to happen to her.”

  That was the clincher. She’d never stay there now, and I wouldn’t let her. Her fear of her father was valid—I was afraid too. No way would I ever let that sick bastard near one of my kids. Her parents would never be allowed to babysit. Never.

  ***

  Her mom left for Cape Girardeau and left Alex alone with her father. The idea of her being alone with him made me nervous, but I figured as long as the beer didn’t run out, she was safe.

  “I have to be home early to make him dinner,” she said when we pulled into my driveway after school. “I might be able to come back over to your house after he falls asleep.”

  Falls asleep, or passes out. Whatever.

  “Well, try to come over, but don’t get him all pissed off. Not yet,” I said. I still hadn’t had time to talk to my mom about the baby. She’d been working overtime and coming home frazzled and stressed. I had to talk to my mom before Alex moved in. Of course, she probably wouldn’t object. She liked Alex.

  That night after Alex went home to care of her asshole father, I decided to make dinner for my mom. She might handle the news of Alex’s pregnancy better on a full stomach. I didn’t know how to cook very well, but I could at least make spaghetti.

  Dinner was almost finished when my mom got home. I set the table and filled two plates with spaghetti while she changed into sweats and crocs.

  “Smells good,” she said, coming back into the room. “Where’s Alex?”

  “At home.”

  “Everything okay?” she asked, sitting down at the table. We rarely ate together. Sometimes she cooked, but I usually brought my plate of food to my room and ate in front of the computer. It was only after I first got out of the mental hospital that she made us eat at the table, but that didn’t last long.

  “Everything’s fine. Well, mostly… Do you want something to drink?” I asked, getting up. I was nervous all of a sudden.

  “Just a glass of milk. What do you mean by mostly?”

  I filled two glasses of milk and sat back down across from her. “Well, it’s a long story.”

  Actually, it wasn’t a long story at all. I deliberately impregnated Alex, but I couldn’t tell my mom that. I decided to sanitize the tale just a bit.

  “Well, Alex has been feeling a little sick lately…”

  “She isn’t pregnant is she?” my mom asked with a nervous chuckle.

  “Actually, yeah. She is.”

  “Oh my God! Sean…”

  “Come on. It’s no big deal…well it is, but we’re both eighteen. We’ll be graduating in a few weeks. Everything will be fine.”

  “Do her parents know?”

  What a stupid question. Seriously, she knew better than to ask that. Of course they didn’t know, because if they did, her dad would be beating on the front door screaming like a lunatic.

  “What are you two going to do?” she asked. Her fork lay unused in the middle of her uneaten plate of spaghetti.

  “Well, I was hoping we could live here for a while.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Please. You know her dad will freak out. He’ll probably kick her out, and then she’ll be out on the streets.”

  “She has family.”

  “I’m her family. We want to be together.”

  She fell silent. Picking up her fork, she stabbed at the food in front of her, unseeing. Her mouth twitched spastically, and I could tell she was trying not to cry.

  “I’m sorry, mom. I know this is a huge shock. I was shocked too, but I really want her to move in here. We’ll get married before the baby is born. Haven’t you always wanted a grandchild?”

  “Not at the age of thirty-nine,” she said. “What about college? You two don’t even have jobs…”

  “I’ll get a job. I’m looking for one tomorrow. I’ll take a year off, then go to college. I promise.”

  “What about medical care? Has she been to the doctor? She needs to talk to her parents and see if she’ll still be covered under their insurance.”

  Why did she always have
to bring up negative shit? Couldn’t she just say she was happy about the baby?

  “Everything will work out,” I said. For the first time, I started to worry. I hadn’t thought about money or insurance. I’d been so excited about the prospect of starting a family, I hadn’t considered all the boring practicalities.

  My mom went to bed early that night, her spirit broken. Time to turn my sights on Alex. Her unplanned pregnancy wasn’t her only secret—she’d kept another secret from me. Earlier that day, I’d taken a peek in her backpack and discovered some disturbing paperwork—ACT scores, college applications, financial aid forms. Was she seriously still planning on going to college? It would be a waste of time and money. I wouldn’t allow my wife to work. I’d grown up without my mother around, and look how I’d turned out. Fathers belonged at work; mothers belonged at home with the children.

  Alex was more ambitious than I’d thought. She had more spirit than was good for her, and I planned to break it as soon as possible.

  Chapter 21- Alex

  Ah, how ferocious was he in his aspect!

  And how he seemed to me in action ruthless

  (Canto XXI, lines 31 & 32)

  For several days, I tiptoed around my dad’s bad moods, listened to his slurred demands for food and drink, and endured his hateful comments. When Friday came, I breathed a sigh of relief, but that relief was short-lived. Weekends weren’t necessarily a retreat—not at my house. With my mom gone, I would be expected to feed and water my dad. He’d complain if I tried to leave for any reason, and I’d have to be on guard all the time.

  Depression and fear weighed me down all day. It got worse when I joined Sean in the lunchroom. He was already waiting for me at our usual table. Unfortunately, so were Darren and Tyler. Raucous laughter rang out. I didn’t need to hear the punch line to know who everyone was laughing at.

  Sean sat with his fists clenched, his face red with anger. I carefully made my way to his side, ready to diffuse the situation. I couldn’t come down too hard on his oppressors—to do so, would be to emasculate him. He would be angry and would take it out on me. I had to do or say something before Sean got in trouble again. He couldn’t afford a suspension—his grades were already borderline failing.

  I decided to ignore Darren and Tyler. Ordinarily, this was the advice parents loved to give their children when it came to bully management, but every kid in America knew this approach never worked. However, it was all I had. And even if Darren and Tyler continued their taunts, it wasn’t them I was worried about—it was Sean. He was unstable and there was no telling what he might do if pushed too far.

  “Hey,” I said casually, sitting down beside Sean. I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Eww. What is that?” I asked, pointing at the food on Cole’s tray. I could see Darren and Tyler exchanging a glance out of the corner of my eye.

  For once, Cole’s presence was a blessing. He played along with me; he knew the game. I’d never once considered him bright or perceptive, but at that particular moment, he was a champ.

  “Roadkill,” he replied, stabbing at the mystery meat with a fork.

  “Eww. I don’t know how you guys can eat this. Sean, can you get me some real food after school? I’d rather starve than eat this.”

  Sean turned to me and the wrath faded from his eyes. “Whatever you want.”

  Darren and Tyler wandered away, presumably in search of more victims. I continued to chat with Sean, but made no mention of what happened before I arrived. He seemed relaxed by the time the bell rang.

  The final class of the day—the icing on the cake of one of the worst days of my life, was Senior English, a class I used to love, but no longer did. The research paper had taken my confidence. I’d never felt good about the assignment, and it was with a deep sense of foreboding that I handed in the paper at all. And now the day of reckoning had finally arrived. Our graded papers would be handed out, and I would find out once and for all whether or not I’d maintained my A.

  Mr. Chalmers’ expression was rigid with disapproval when he handed me the paper. A big giant letter C was emblazoned across the title page in blood red ink. My first C in English ever. Tears welled up, but I brushed them away. I wouldn’t let him see me cry. I wouldn’t cry over a grade that didn’t really matter. I was pregnant and my life was over. Sean had already made it clear that it wasn’t necessary for me to go to college.

  All the papers had been distributed. Mr. Chalmers stood at the front of the room, droning on about extra credit. Ordinarily, I would have jumped at the chance to improve my grade, but what was the point? The C would stand.

  Sean took me to get some tacos after school, and then we headed back to his house. I checked the time constantly, afraid of what would happen if my dad arrived home before I did. The whole weekend hinged on my dad’s mood. If we began the weekend on a bad note, I could kiss any sense of peace goodbye.

  Dinner was almost finished when my dad got home. I brought him a beer before he even asked for one, silently noting there were only about eighteen left. I hoped it would be enough. Sober, my dad was rude, moody, and irrational. If he got drunk enough, he passed out in his recliner and left everyone alone. Half-drunk was catastrophic; he became angry, loud, and violent. He threatened anyone who came near him, and sometimes, his threats weren’t idle…sometimes he followed through.

  I continued to ply him with food and beer. By the time the game started, he was halfway gone. With any luck, he’d be drunk and unconscious by the fifth inning. But, luck seldom came my way.

  “Putting on some weight, aren’t you?” he asked when I brought him another beer.

  I froze, unsure if he’d noticed my slight pooch of a belly, but relaxed when he turned his attention back to the Cards game.

  “Keep eating all that crap, and you’ll end up looking like your mom—with a fat ass and saggy tits.” He laughed and took a chug from his can of beer.

  I returned my box of cheese crackers to the kitchen, then climbed the stairs to my bedroom. Locking the door behind me, I called Sean.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. How’s your mom?” Ever since he told his mom about the pregnancy, I felt kind of weird around her. I’d only seen her once since then, but she seemed okay. She gave me a hug and a bunch of stupid platitudes that were supposed to make me feel better.

  “Fine. You should come over. She seriously doesn’t care about the baby. Well, she does, but you know what I mean. She isn’t pissed or anything.”

  “I don’t know. My dad’s in a weird mood, so I’m afraid to leave.” I was afraid to stay. I was just afraid in general.

  “Just for a while. Come on, Alex. Please.” His pleading always broke my resolve, but not tonight. I didn’t want to leave my room—not even to walk down the stairs and out the door. I had a bad feeling.

  “Fine, but can you come over early in the morning? I really want to see you.” The fact that I was pregnant hadn’t cooled Sean’s ardor at all—in fact, he sought my affections with increased vigor.

  “Okay, but only if my dad leaves the house. I don’t know if he’s working in the morning and I was afraid to ask.” My dad didn’t work every Saturday, but he worked more often than not. I fervently prayed tomorrow would be a working day. Even if he didn’t leave for work, he’d eventually have to venture out on a beer run. I didn’t have a driver’s license and was too young to buy alcohol.

  When I hung up the phone, I heard my dad crashing around downstairs. I quickly double-checked the lock on my bedroom door and flipped off the light. It was only nine-thirty and I wasn’t tired yet, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

  Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs, followed by the rattling of my doorknob. I held my breath.

  “Alex?” he called. I counted to ten. He called my name again.

  “Yeah?” I tried to sound groggy.

  “You already asleep?”

  “Huh?” I mumbled. He repeated his question and I didn’t answer. The doorknob rattled again. At
last, I could hear the sound of footsteps, but they became softer as he walked away. The door at the end of the hallway clicked shut and I could breathe again.

  I pulled a flashlight out of my nightstand drawer so I could finish reading my novel. I was afraid to turn on my light in case he decided to come after me again. Tears pooled up and overflowed. I hadn’t even had a chance to use the bathroom before going to bed. My bladder ached with heaviness, but I couldn’t afford to take a chance by opening the door and creeping down the hallway. Not until I was sure he was asleep.

  Maybe he wouldn’t mess with me. It had been three years since he’d tried anything, but with my mom out of the picture….well, who knew? I read by the dim light of the flashlight until I couldn’t ignore the persistent pain in my bladder. After two hours, I eased open my door and peered down the hallway. All was quiet. I eased out of my room and took quick, but silent steps to the bathroom. I almost wept with relief when I closed the door behind me and sat down on the toilet.

  Now the tricky part: I had to make it back to my room without my dad hearing me. What if he already woke up when I crept down the hall? My hand hovered at the doorknob for several minutes before I worked up the courage to open it. Easing the door open, I tried to peek through the tiny sliver of visibility.

  Suddenly the door flew open and my dad grabbed me, his putrid breath in my face, making me gag. One hand groped my breast and the contents of my stomach gurgled up and overflowed.

  “Jesus Christ!” he yelled, stepping back away from me. Thick, greenish vomit covered his hand and forearm. I pushed past him and dashed down the hallway, slamming my door behind me. I locked it just as he pounded down the hall after me.

  “Get out here and clean this shit up!” he screamed.

  I ran to my dresser and pushed everything that was on it into the top drawer. Intent on putting an additional barrier between us, I began pushing it toward the door. My carpet rippled under the weight of the heavy piece of furniture. Crying and breathing heavily, I finally managed to block the doorway.