Leila: Goddess The Second Coming

by R. J. Castille

  Jason embraced me again before I slipped out the door and headed toward the curb where the valet who had seen me coming had scrambled off and retrieved my Jaguar. When he saw the car pull up to the curb, Master Jason did not say a word, he simply looked at me with his thick eyebrows raised as high as he could get them to go. I smiled at him and shrugged my shoulders in an exaggerated fashion.

  “What can I say?” He was still laughing as I ducked inside the cab of my car and closed myself inside. I circled around the driveway and waved at him as I pointed my vehicle in the direction of the exit and made my way toward the gate. I watched in my rearview mirror as he raised his hand and waived back at me, a smile fixed on his face. It was always so wonderful to spend time in my kingdom, I vowed that I would attempt to do so more often. As he disappeared back into the Red Velvet Room, I guided my car down the winding driveway and, unfortunately, back to the real world.

  -16-

  The rest of my weekend, I maintained the sensation of elated bliss I always felt after leaving my other realm. Before I knew it, however, I was sitting in the waiting room at my first Obstetrician appointment. I glanced around the space. It was overdone. Large cushioned couches overstuffed to the point you could almost not sit on them comfortably circled the room. In between were glass-topped end tables, piled impossibly high with about every kind of magazine you could think of. The walls were covered with gaudy wallpaper that sported thick blue stripes running vertically alternating with clumps of large flowers. Paintings were mounted sporadically about the space, like an attempt to distract you from the overall suffocating feel the room had.

  I was bent over a clipboard, answering what seemed like an endless barrage of questions. Medical history, family medical history, it even so much as asked how many cigarettes per day I smoked, if I did smoke that is. When it came time to give them my emergency contact information, I wasn’t sure who to put. Definitely not Matthew, and Gordon, well his volatile moods did not necessarily make him the best candidate for them to call in the middle of the night if something happened to me. I finally settled on my mother, and printed her name and telephone number neatly on the line.

  Finally finished completing the novel-length intake packet, I returned it to the woman behind the desk who prompted me for a twenty-dollar co-pay. I handed her the money and she printed a receipt. Two copies: one she placed in my file to demonstrate that I had paid my portion of the medical visit; the other she handed to me with a plastic smile plastered on her face. A glimpse into her eyes spoke volumes about her. She probably spends the better portion of her life behind that desk, answering the telephone, handling not-so-patient clients, typing at what appeared to be lightning speed. I felt a little bad for her so I conjured up the biggest smile I could. When she finally looked directly at me, she slowly returned my smile, a touch of happiness lighting her eyes. Sometimes that’s all we need in this life, a little acknowledgement from someone, somewhere, somehow.

  It felt a little strange being there alone. As I glanced around the waiting room, there were a few other people smattered about the space. Three couples: two male-female couples; and one female-female ensemble. From the looks of it, the female group was a mother and daughter set, however, you never know these days so it’s best not to say anything at all for fear of being sorely mistaken. What if they are a lesbian couple who are enjoying a pregnancy made at the hands of modern science? My mind always had to throw something into the works, never just take things at face value, that’s its mantra.

  Finally, after an eternity in the waiting room, a short-haired female opened the door and called my name. I sprung from the couch a little too fast, causing a wave of dizziness to wash over me. She saw me swaying and approached me quickly, placing a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to help me regain my balance. A look of concern was plastered on her features. I nodded at her in appreciation of her reaction as she waited patiently for me to indicate I was alright. Once the room stopped spinning, I followed the young lady into the back office.

  She worked quickly to triage me. Blood pressure, weight, pulse. All recorded before she handed me a plastic urine cup. Saying noting, she simply pointed in the direction of the restroom on the other side of the exam room and smiled. I nodded and went inside to provide her with the sample she wanted. When I emerged again, yellow liquid filling the cup in my hand, I placed it on the tray on the counter she pointed to when I approached her.

  “Please undress and put this gown on, opening in the back,” she pointed at the exam table. She had laid out a cotton, hospital-style gown. “The doctor will be with you shortly,” she stated as she exited the room and closed the door behind her. I was thankful that it was a cotton gown, not one of those scratchy paper gowns they have at my regular doctor’s office.

  I removed my clothes and tied the soft gown on in the back as instructed. When I was finished neatly folding my clothes and placing them on a chair next to the exam table, before I settled in on the slab. Looking around the room nervously, I observed several models that were lined up along the counter across from where I sat, all in different phases of pregnancy. The last one made my mouth dry as it was a full-term model where the baby was head down and pressing into every organ the model had. It made me a little nervous to think about, another human being growing inside of me and soon would be that big and I was somehow supposed to get it out of my vagina. Women have been doing it forever of course, but it still made me cringe inside.

  A soft rap on the door reached my ears. I looked up in time to see a very pretty African-American woman slip through the entry. Average height, and medium build, the woman wore a smile that would stop traffic, her teeth so white they gleamed in contrast against her dark skin. Her eyes twinkled as she approached me, hand extended with the intention of greeting me with a hand shake.

  “Good morning Ms. King, I am Dr. Marshall,” she chirped. Her voice a little higher pitched than I imagined at first glance. I grasped her hand in mine. It was soft to the touch and her nails were neatly manicured, clear nail polish to give them a shine but trimmed close enough to her fingers that they did not obstruct her from getting a good grip on my hand. She pumped my hand up and down a few times before letting go and glancing down at the manila file in her hand. I waited as she scanned the documents inside, making notes on the sheets that she was currently reading and nodding occasionally, it seemed like forever before she looked back up at me .

  “So, Ms. King, how are you feeling today?” Her smile was genuine. I felt warm energy radiating off of her, it was soothing. Taking a deep breath, I sighed out loud, the sound echoed back to me from the sterile surroundings. Dr. Marshall cocked her head to one side, one eyebrow slightly raised, her face took on a mask of inquisitiveness.

  “I have a few concerns,” I started slowly, picking through my words carefully. I wanted to emphasize my concerns but not sound overly paranoid. “I have been experiencing extreme fatigue, dizziness, and…” I paused. I was a little nervous to say the last thing out loud, “Should I be concerned that I am so big already? I feel like I am not far enough along to have this,” I ended my sentence by pulling my gown tight around my abdomen. My baby bump quite obvious from beneath the taut, cotton fabric.

  Dr. Marshall simply smiled at me. Her eyes twinkled in amusement. I imagined she had probably heard it all, thus her reaction.

  “There should be nothing too concerning since, according to your paperwork, you do not report anything on the trigger list for concern. Fever, bleeding or spotting, cramping. Those are things that should worry you. A little dizziness is quite normal. It should dissipate a little later in your pregnancy. It is just your body adjusting to the hormonal fluctuations you are now going through. Fatigue is by far one of the most common symptoms. You are, after all, making another human being inside your body. That consumes massive amounts of energy. Let me take a look at you and I can address the other concern momentarily. I need to make sure everything looks normal inside, and out.” She finished speaking and her per
fect teeth once again made an appearance from behind an enormous smile. It was heartwarming really. When she spoke, I immediately felt at ease.

  She walked to the side of the exam table and laid it all the way back with the electronic device fixed to the floor underneath. Stepping on another pedal, she lowered the entire bed slightly before making her way back around to the front. I felt the bed jolt as she pulled the stirrups out from their storage spot on either side of the exam table. Sensing my nervousness, she looked at me with a gentle look on her face.

  “I just need to check your vagina and cervix. This will be a manual exam, we do not do pap smears on early-term pregnant women any longer; it is contraindicated. It has been suspected as causing an increase of miscarriage or other complications during pregnancy. Only if something else presents itself would I suggest anything other than a manual.” She nodded her head curtly at this statement. I clumsily raised each foot and planted a heel onto either side. Dr. Marshall waited a few moments for me to wiggle a little and scoot downward so she could be allowed full access to my Netherlands.

  Dr. Marshall pulled on small, purple exam gloves after sliding a bright, flexible light toward her. She planted herself onto a stool that was set on a wheel base, allowing her to roll around and pull herself closer to me. A large glob of clear jelly was squeezed onto her fingers, before setting the tube aside and easing my thighs farther apart with her clean hand. Her fingers found their way inside me slowly and carefully. With her other hand, she pressed down slightly on my lower abdomen, just above my pelvic bone.

  When she withdrew her fingers, I felt the warm glow of embarrassment find its way to my chest and neck, slowly making its way up to my cheeks. Dr. Marshall peeled the gloves off of her hands and wheeled toward the sink. Discarding the gloves into the bright red biohazard can next to the wastebasket, she washed her hands for several moments under the warm water. Grabbing several paper towels from the dispenser mounted to the wall to the right of the sink, Dr. Marshall used her foot to push herself back toward me. Coming to a stop back between my knees, she stood and appeared at my side again.

  “Everything feels great, Ms. King,” she declared as she carefully returned the stirrups to their previous position. My legs dangled down for a few seconds before she pulled on the end of the exam table and an extension slid out, coming to a stop just below my feet. I watched as Dr. Marshall pulled a small device from the cabinet. It resembled an old-school Walkman with a coiled wire extending to what appeared to be a microphone with a flat end instead of being rounded off. I recognized it as being called a Doppler in the pregnancy shows I had started watching. “Now, let’s listen to that angel’s heartbeat, ok?”

  My own heart skipped several beats at the notion. It’s heartbeat! My mind cheerfully repeated. Dr. Marshall came back to my side and retrieved the tube of jelly from the tray where she had left it. She applied a generous portion to the flat end of the Doppler. With her free hand, she pulled my gown up to my waist. Placing the jellied end of the device on my lower abdomen, Dr. Marshall moved it slowly from side to side until she found what she was listening for.

  A distant throbbing strong and slow slightly overpowered by a faster, more erratic throb. Emotions flooded through me. I was hearing, for the first time, actual evidence of the life inside me. The distant sound was clearly my own heartbeat as it now throbbed in my neck as a torrid of feelings washed over me and came flooding out of my eyes in the form of tears.

  I glanced over at Dr. Marshall, who appeared slightly confused. My mind immediately began working overtime. Something is wrong! It screamed in despair. A new flood of emotions forced its way through my body, only this time it wasn’t pleasant. She continued to slowly move the device around my abdomen. On some parts of my stomach, the faster heartbeat appeared to double, then it would fade away into a uniform sound.

  “What is it, Dr. Marshall?” I asked, hoping not to sound as alarmed as I truly was .

  “I am not sure, Ms. King, I need to have a look,” she walked over and plopped the Doppler on the counter. As she crossed the room, I saw her pull a large machine from the corner and started to wheel it toward the exam table. Without a word, Dr. Marshall pulled a hand-piece from where it dangled at the side of the machine and a clear container of jelly substance. It was warm when she squeezed almost half the bottle onto my lower abdomen. “I am going to do an ultrasound with this machine, Ms. King. Then I can see what’s going on, the heartbeat sounds strong it’s just, unusual. I can also do some measurements to get a more accurate estimate of your gestation.”

  Doctors always spoke a foreign language. Somewhere I heard they were supposed to dumb it down when they talked to patients so they can understand their situation better. No medical mumbo jumbo, just the facts ma’am. I knew she meant how far along I was, since I had read about pregnancy on the internet and glanced through a copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting , at the bookstore a few weeks ago, so I did not question her. I wanted to see what was going on as quickly as possible .

  The screen lit up and fuzzy images appeared in a cone shape on the screen. She moved the wand around in silence for several moments, deepening my concern greatly, before I saw it. A rhythmic flicker in the corner of the screen. I let out the breath I had been holding without realizing it. Dr. Marshall turned her head toward me, her smile widened as she looked between my face and the screen.

  “Wait, Ms. King, if you like that, you are going to love this,” she looked back at the monitor and moved the hand-piece down and toward the other side of my belly. On the other side of the screen, another flicker appeared that almost mirrored the one that was captured on the ultrasound near the top of the screen. I immediately assumed something was wrong with the machine, it had a defect, a bug. It was in need of some serious maintenance. From the back of my mind, however, a soft voice whispered at the same time as Dr. Marshall spoke. “Ms. King,” she beamed at me, “you are pregnant with twins!”

  The room started to sway and I gripped the edge of the exam table tightly. I felt like I was on a boat on turbulent waters as it was being tossed about. My eyes rolled back into my head and darkness swallowed me .

  When I woke, Dr. Marshall stood on my left and a fair-haired nurse to my right. The nurse was waving a capsule under my nose that was strong enough to make me cough. Slowly my vision began to return to normal. I blinked my eyes several times before opening them completely. They both looked down at me, rehearsed empathy etched onto their features.

  “Are you alright, Ms. King,” Dr. Marshall inquired. In response, I nodded my head before reaching down to ease myself to a seated position. Dr. Marshall placed her hand on my shoulder to stop me before reaching the peddle that raised the bed with her foot and pressing it down. The motor whirred in my ears loudly as it raised me up to a semi-seated position.

  “I am sorry,” I started to apologize before I noticed Dr. Marshall shaking her head and clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

  “It can be quite shocking to get that kind of news, Ms. King. It is certainly understandable. It’s a shame that the father could not be here to get find out with you,” she tilted her head to the side slightly and pushed my hair back away from my eyes and behind my ears. Yes, a shame. Now I have to tell him myself.

  -17-

  As I pulled out of the parking lot of Dr. Daisy Marshall’s practice, my mind raced. I looked at the clock, it was nearly 1:00. It took longer than I thought for my appointment. Gordon expected me at his office at 2:00, I prayed that the freeway was behaving and that the lunch hour rush had subsided. As I merged onto the freeway, I realized that my prayers would go unheard again as I faced a sea of red. Brake lights as far as the eye could see. I sighed loudly and tried to remain calm, turning the radio up as I did so. The music was soothing and calmed me sufficiently. I was feeling much better by the time I reached the off-ramp to my former place of employment, G. Roth and Associates.

  I still did not know what to expect on our first visit since the day he
pushed me forcefully from his presence. My thoughts were consumed with questions on what his motives could be. Part of me hoped the news that we were having twins would serve as a distraction, the other part of me knew better. Gordon would not accept the babies until he knew for sure they were his, I was sure of it. To me, all that meant was that I would end up going through the pregnancy alone. I had convinced myself that it was a hopeless situation, no matter what reality showed me.

  Pulling my Jaguar into a parking place designated for clients of the firm, as I was no longer an employee and could not take advantage of the safety of the parking structure, I plugged numerous quarters into a hungry parking meter, pressed the button and ensured my payment had credited before walking away. Unsure of Gordon’s intentions, I was also unsure of how long my visit would take, so I put enough money in the meter to last at least three hours.

  I filed into the elevator with the rest of the group waiting to be ingested by the awaiting car, the door sliding quickly shut behind us. As we drifted swiftly toward the heavens, I focused on my breathing to remain calm, as the small space attempted to suffocate me. After several stops on floors on the way toward Gordon’s floor, the doors finally slid open at my destination. At first, I could not convince my feet to move, but finally, after several seconds and strange looks from the remaining riders, I stepped across the threshold.

  The door shut behind me, sealing my fate. I was suddenly glad I had worn a strappy summer dress as the space increased in temperature by several degrees since I had arrived. Instead of opening the doors and entering the foyer, I stared at the double-doors, taking several cleansing breaths as I considered running like hell.