It Starts

by Avery Kirk

  I shook my head. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I didn’t say anything.

  That’s when it started. I got terrible pains behind my belly button. I thought it was the chicken, but I had barely touched it. We polished off most of another bottle of wine waiting for dinner, but we kept the bread coming. I was unquestionably wrecked but it just didn’t seem like that was why I was feeling bad.

  My hand slammed on the table without my permission, grabbing the edge.

  What the…

  “Mel!?” Kevin whispered with urgency. “What’s wrong?” He looked around frantically.

  “My stomach….”

  I suddenly felt calm and no longer in pain. I released the table and Kevin eased back into his seat, relaxing a little but still leaning forward. Clearly a bit tense.

  I smiled. I felt mechanical. I felt as though I were a passenger in my body. I wanted to panic at the sensation, but I just stayed calm, knowing that it was the better choice.

  “I’m OK,” I said to him, still smiling a bit. “Let me just go to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

  He nodded easily enough, but the wrinkle between his eyebrows didn’t go away.

  I walked to the bathroom, asking for directions along the way.

  The bathroom was even more calming. I noticed a subtle smell of what I thought was lavender, and the lighting was very soft. It felt like the bathroom of a wealthy relative. The toilets were in little rooms, not stalls, and the doors were six panel, floor to ceiling for privacy.

  I sat on the toilet with no intention of using it. I put my elbows on my knees and rested my head in my hands, closing my eyes. As soon as I did that, I got flashes of outside. I abruptly opened my eyes and picked my head up, I looked around. Just a bathroom. What was the problem? I looked around again, and I heard a toilet flush, but otherwise nothing was out of the ordinary.

  I let my head fall back, this time tipping my face up toward the ceiling. The ceiling had more intricate woodwork. I closed my eyes. Again, I saw images and my eyes popped open as I unintentionally gasped.

  This time, my eyes were forced to close, and I wasn’t worried in the least. I saw her. I saw a pregnant woman. No, too young. A pregnant…girl. She ran. She was being chased, or, well, that’s what it looked like. I was very fearful for this girl. An urgency washed over me like a giant wave and suddenly I knew I came to help. I had to hurry. I knew somehow that she wasn’t too far from me. The pull to her was just about uncontrollable. But what about Kevin? I didn’t have the time. I had to get to her now. I’d tell Kevin where I was going once I knew.

  I had a clear view of our table from the bathroom entry door. I peeked carefully around the door to see what he was doing. He was asking our waiter where the ladies room was, no doubt, as he was gesturing in this direction. But I had to leave before I was made to explain to him—it would take too long.

  As he got up to come and check on me, his eyes were elsewhere and I snuck out of the restroom. I ran up to the bar. I spotted a clean towel and tucked it into the back of my pants. I caught the bartender’s eye and asked him to call me a cab.

  “Hey, give Sheri’s Cab a call, will you?” he said to the other bartender nearest the phone.

  “She’s real good,” he said, turning to me. “She’ll be here in 15, 20 minutes tops.” I must’ve looked like I was in a crazy big hurry.

  “Thank you. The cab is for my friend since he’s had a lot of wine. I have to leave, and I don’t have time to talk with him about it. He’s the dark-haired guy in the Henley with the wavy hair.” I nodded in his direction, worried that pointing would call his attention. “His name is Kevin. I have to leave but I want him to come and find me as soon as she—the cab driver—picks him up. Tell him it’s not far from here but to look for semi-trailers and trees. I’ll be near there.” That was my latest flash of information as to where the pregnant girl was hiding, clearly in great pain. I put my hand over my belly again. Now the pain made sense.

  “I’d be very grateful if you could tell him that and let him know that I intend to explain as soon as I see him.” I handed the man a twenty and held my hand there, waiting for his acknowledgement. He nodded slowly in understanding and took the money, looking very puzzled. “West of here a couple miles. Semi-trailers and trees,” I said again, in a stronger tone—firmly holding his gaze until he nodded again.

  I knew I shouldn’t drive after drinking all the wine, although I didn’t feel any unbalance now. Just determination. Also, I didn’t have the keys. Kevin did. I decided to run.

  I ran out the door and kept on running. My instincts had told me to head west so I did. I ran as fast as I could. I was no runner, but my legs didn’t stop even once. Waiting for the cab might’ve been faster; I just knew I couldn’t.

  I ran at full speed parallel to a main road, crossed over an oddly empty expressway and desperately looked for semi-trailers. I occupied my mind with random thoughts but never lost a beat of what I was going toward. That drive was unbelievably powerful. I hardly noticed the exhaustion my body felt.

  I was frantically searching for the trailers. I spotted them. Several were parked in a large empty parking lot next to a park and behind a strip mall. It must be the place.

  My direction changed. I saw a handsome, dark woman in front of the strip mall leaning against the wall. She was stocky and in her 50s or so. She wore her straight, black hair in a low ponytail that hung to the middle of her back. She wore sweatpants and an untucked button-down shirt. I was overwhelmed with the urge to speak with her. As I approached her, she stood facing left, her chin up—she seemed to be waiting. When I was within ten feet or so, she suddenly turned and lowered her chin and locked her eyes on mine. It seemed to be me she’d been waiting for.

  I felt a surge of anxiety, not having any idea what I planned to say or even if she spoke English. I doubted that she did. How would this go?

  “Hello,” I managed, near bursting with the need to rush. “My name is Amelia.”

  “Hello,” she replied in a thick accent. “I don’t speak much English. I am Isa.”

  Without any pause, I replied in Spanish. Though I didn’t know how to speak Spanish, the words spilled from me fluently. Again, I felt like a passenger in my own body. The feeling was surreal but less alarming than it should have been. I knew exactly what I was asking her, but I had no way to know or conscious knowledge of how to speak in this language. I asked her to follow me and to trust me. “Please follow my lead,” I said. “I need your help for an emergency, and I need your discretion. I can’t promise that you’ll be out of harm’s way, so I need you to hide, but stay close enough so you can hear me.’

  She nodded quickly and seemed to understand the urgency. We left running, and she stopped to hide where the building met some trees. I ran hard, all the while searching for this woman I was certain was close to me. She was deeply afraid, and she was in pain. I heard a muffled thudding in one of the trailers. I lifted the latch and threw up the door. The girl covered her belly, terrified. I put my hands up, palms facing her to let her know that I wasn’t there to hurt her.

  “He’s coming. He knows, and he’s trying to stop this—to hurt the baby and to hurt me.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know who this is. I don’t know this man and I don’t know if the baby’s father did either.” She held her hand up for us to wait until she could speak again. I felt her pain almost literally. When it lessened enough for her to speak, she went on with desperation, pain, and exhaustion in every word. “I can’t keep the baby. I was going to…I just can’t. It’s just not possible. But I want it to live and this man doesn’t want that. I know that for sure. I want to take the baby to one of those places where they can’t ask questions. It’s…” I couldn’t tell if the anxiety in her voice was because of the pain or because of the man. It was haunting. She must have gotten a contraction because she couldn’t talk anymore. Her face twisted and she pounded her fist on the trailer as noiselessly as possible to attempt cope with th
e pain.

  I knew he was close. I had to leave her to deal with him—for her and the baby’s safety.

  I squeezed her leg and moved my head to find her eyes so she’d see mine.

  “I’ll be back. I’ll help you.”

  She sat in a pool of watery blood; I knew we didn’t have much time. Although I felt the urge to stop and ask myself what the hell was going on, I consciously didn’t allow myself time to answer that question. I had to dedicate my whole being to what was happening.

  I had a choice, though. The feeling was odd. I felt that I could completely stop what was happening if I chose to do so. I knew it. I saw myself for a moment grabbing a cab and going back to the restaurant. Or I could ignore all this and wait for Kevin in front of the mini mall. Just to test the idea, I stopped abruptly as I was closing the trailer doors. I stood there silently and without motion and freaked out for a split second as I allowed myself to absorb all that had happened.

  For the first time, I felt an aching in my quadriceps and realized that my shirt was wet in the back from sweating. Just then, I heard a muffled sound from inside the trailer that made me open the door again an inch and peer through the crack. The girl was already looking in my direction and nodded largely at me when she saw me peeking at her. She lifted her hand—palm forward—to let me know that she was OK. This nameless woman was about to give birth to a tiny creature with not even a diaper or blanket for the child.

  I closed the trailer back again and waited for the man. I had no fear—just anticipation.

  He came around the corner with an arrogant walk, scanning left and right, looking for her. He squatted down, looking below the parked trailers. He whistled quietly.

  He was a teenager, maybe nineteen. He wore a black bandana on his head and a T-shirt covered by an open shirt and khaki pants that were too long for him. In his right hand, he held a knife, blade facing the back of his fist.

  Stepping lightly, I moved quickly away from her trailer, hiding behind other trailers near the tree line, as I kept him in sight. When I decided I was ready for him and far enough from the girl, I dragged my feet on the gravel, making noise from the corner of the clearing, behind one of the trailers. A pang of desperation rang through me as I took in the whole situation, and I thought maybe I should call the police. That thought left me as quickly as it came.

  I kept dragging my feet on the gravely concrete hoping he would follow my sound. It worked. He was about 50 yards from the trailers now in an area of the parking lot where the street lights didn’t reach.

  He saw me and complete confusion mangled his face for an instant.

  “What the hell, lady, you trying to get yourself killed?” he yelled.

  “No. Just trying to help.” I wouldn’t shout to him. I was even and clear and I knew he could hear me.

  “I don’t need your help, lady—I’m looking for someone.”

  “My help is not for you. Consider me her personal guardian.”

  He laughed an evil, horrible laugh. “That bitch doesn’t have anyone. And I’ve never seen you before.”

  “You can take off and forget this whole thing or you will deal with me.” My words were ice cold.

  “I got no beef with you, lady. This isn’t your problem.”

  “Oh, it is. Tell me, boy, what do you plan to do?”

  “If you get in my way you’re gonna risk getting cut. Where’s the GIRL!?” His last word was wild, and rage mangled his face. I waited to feel fear, but it didn’t come. I breathed in and out deeply, satisfied by the lack of fear. I felt myself stand a little taller, muscles tensed.

  “She’s not your concern. I am.”

  “Where IS she?!”

  “This is your last chance to leave, kid. Take it.”

  “Lady, you have no idea!” It was then that something in him snapped. Maybe his patience was gone, maybe he was furious, maybe he was on some type of drug. He came at me, intending to punch with his knife hand and then drag its blade across my skin. I was certain because I could see it.

  I crossed my wrists to stop his blow and knocked the knife from his hand as his fist tried to meet with my face. The knife was on the ground and I had his wrist in a hard, stone-like grip. I brought him toward me and kneed him hard in the stomach. He made a lurching sound and tried to reach for me.

  I heard a sound behind me and knew it was familiar. I tore my eyes from the fight, and I saw Kevin, running toward us. In the instant that my attention was elsewhere, the boy was able to grab the knife again. Damn, I hadn’t kicked it away—I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  He slashed me, and I felt a warm sensation on my hip and lower belly. It didn’t deter me. I grabbed his knife-wielding hand and twisted it hard. The knife fell again, and I kicked it as I spun him, then I kicked his feet out from under him. I threw him to the ground, my free arm behind his neck.

  He was face down on the ground, my knee between his shoulder blades, and one hand twisting his arm above them. My other hand gripped his jaw fiercely, moving his head so he could see me. I knew exactly what to do to snap his neck.

  “Listen, boy, I will end you if I must. I will. Think about it. I don’t know you. I don’t care. I have no remorse for ending a child who is evil to his core. I see you. I know what you are. You will not hurt the girl. You will not hurt the child. Do you hear me?” They weren’t my words, yet they spilled out of me as though it were a speech I’d rehearsed.

  He was trying to compose himself enough to answer, but fear overtook him when he realized my words were unquestionably true and a very real possibility. I could hear someone else close by breathing hard and unevenly, but I didn’t divert my attention this time.

  “Tell me your choice, boy. Tell me. I want you to know that there is hope for you. I feel it now. You’ve made poor choices up to this point, haven’t you?”

  “Yes—” he said, fear and my grip cutting his reply short.

  “Tell me what you’ll do if I release you,” I whispered hard.

  “I will run and I won’t come back,” he whimpered, pleading.

  “Will you leave the girl alone and forget what you came here to do!?” I tightened my grip on his jaw and pushed my other hand down harder on the back of his neck. We both knew that one quick movement with my hands in this position and he would most certainly die.

  “Yes!! Yes!!” he screamed.

  “I see a very miserable life for you and a very painful death if you continue on your current path. I don’t want you to promise me that you’ll change your ways from this moment on because I’m not stupid enough to believe you while you lie here, your life in my hands. But I want you to know that your future only holds darkness if you continue as you are.”

  “K,” he managed to choke out.

  “I will release you, and you will run. Get away from here and get away from the girl and the child.”

  I felt him try to nod.

  In a swift movement, I got off him and picked him up to hurry his departure. He shot off into the darkness.

  I turned to face the other person I’d heard earlier. It was Kevin. His mouth was open slightly, and his arms were tensed and slightly raised as if he had no idea what to do. I blinked hard and looked into his eyes.

  I simply said, “Please come.”

  I began to run without looking if he planned to follow. I got to the trailer in no time at all. Isa was with the girl. She was sitting with her legs wrapping around the young woman, rubbing her forehead and her soaked hair.

  Isa spoke in Spanish and told me that she’d heard the girl and so she’d unlatched the trailer and stayed. I felt Kevin behind me, his chest and torso touching my back, his forearm wrapped around me at my collarbone as she spoke and his right hand tightened on my left shoulder. He rested his other hand on my hip.

  I brought my hand up and squeezed his forearm while I turned my head slightly to speak to him in a low voice “I have to do this. I’m OK. Is the cab still here?”

  “Yeah,” he replied in a whisper. />
  “Where?”

  “In front of the stores. It’s there.”

  The girl let out a high-pitched scream that she tried to muffle with the inside of her elbow.

  “I have to push. I can’t stop it!! I have to! What do I do? Please help me, please!!” she wailed.

  I had no knowledge of childbirth. I’d never even seen it on TV. The whole thought of it had been disturbing to me in the past and scared the hell out of me. Nevertheless, without hesitation, I replied.

  “I’m here to help you. May I have your permission to help you? I have to remove your sweatpants and underthings. I will help.” My eyes deadlocked on her eyes, hoping she could see the truth in them.

  She nodded frantically. “OK! Please!”

  She didn’t look like the type of girl I might’ve stereotyped for this to happen to. She was cute. Blond hair to her shoulders. Very dainty features. Not a small build—but medium. Kind of athletic, I guessed. Apart from that, I couldn’t tell much—it was just too dark.

  I removed her lower clothing and bent her legs at the knee, setting her feet flat. The light was so bad, it was far too difficult to see—we were in a shadow. I had to move her. A streetlight for the parking lot cast a good amount of light on the other side of the trailer. I was frustrated with myself. Maybe I could’ve figured out the lighting problem before I took off her pants and she was about to give birth.

  I shook my head quickly. I couldn’t risk moving her outside to do this. It wasn’t that late, and it would most certainly attract attention. I got the feeling that attention was exactly what this girl was trying to avoid. I looked up at Kevin and Isa.

  “Please help me to move her.” I repeated the same in Spanish. They looked at me as if I were a lunatic. “I just need to move her to where the light is.” I motioned to the other wall of the trailer. “I just can’t see.” They understood. Kevin got into the trailer quickly, and he and Isa each grabbed one of her arms while I picked her up by her knees. She was in such pain that we tried to be as fast and as gentle as possible.