Читать книгу The Jealous Son - Michele Chynoweth - Страница 16
CHAPTER 4
ОглавлениеELIZA CAME HOME from her waitress job sweaty and exhausted that night to their cramped first floor tenement building just outside downtown Phoenix.
Randy’s Tex-Mex Diner had been crowded all day, offering air-conditioned refuge from the hundred-degree heat that plagued Phoenix for several days that October. Many customers had lingered for hours over a cup of coffee or soda, not even leaving her a tip.
She quietly unlocked the apartment door and stood a minute until her eyes adjusted from the hallway lights to their dimly lit living room.
Alex lay sprawled, shirtless and sleeping, on the couch, his brown skin glistening with perspiration, wearing only a pair of jogging shorts. Eliza noticed two empty beer bottles and a McDonald’s burger carton on the end table. I feel bad I never cook for him, she thought dismally, hearing the clanking whir of the air condition unit in the window coming to life. He looks so skinny.
But after working day after day at the diner, she couldn’t bring herself to even look at food when she got home. Most of the time he grabbed some cheap fast food or made himself a peanut butter and jelly or tuna sandwich for dinner since he always got off a few hours earlier than she did.
Eliza felt sorry for herself and even more sorry for him. Alex had gotten a job with a roofing company, showing up at six a.m. each morning to sling tar and lay down shingles in the scorching sun. Yet they were barely paying their bills, much less eating enough.
She quietly set her purse down on the worn armchair next to the couch and went to take a shower in their joint bathroom. The blast of cold water gave her hot skin a little relief. But it did little to cool her anger over the lack of money she had made for all of her hard work the past fourteen hours delivering plates of greasy tacos, hauling dirty dishes caked with dried-up crusty refried beans, and waiting on even greasier, crustier truck drivers who sometimes tried to grab a quick feel when she wasn’t looking.
She towel-dried her hair, put on an oversized tee-shirt and denim shorts, and lay across her bed. She was almost asleep when she was startled by the sound of her name.
“Acha…Alex!” Eliza often had to correct herself, still getting used to their new names. She sat up, blinking, her bedroom light still on. “You scared me.”
Both of them were ordered by the Council to change their given names when they were banned from their homeland a month earlier, although to Eliza it already seemed a lifetime ago. Alex Trellis and Eliza Smith had set off together to face life off the reservation and had found jobs and a two-bedroom apartment that they could barely afford in the busy, dusty, hot city of Phoenix.
“Sorry, I woke up and noticed you were home and thought I’d check on you.” He stood leaning against the door frame to her bedroom, which was adjacent to his. While they shared the rest of the apartment, they were lucky to find a two-bedroom unit they could afford together.
Eliza smiled inwardly. Still the same old Achak, always looking out for me. “Well, thanks, but I was almost asleep.”
“With the light on.”
“You could have just turned it off.”
“True, but then I wouldn’t have gotten to talk to you and share such wonderful conversation.” His sarcastic tone normally wouldn’t have bothered her, but she was grouchy now that he had woken her. “I noticed you had a few beers without me,” she said snippily.
“You could have woken me and had one too.”
“Um, there were none left.” Eliza wished she didn’t sound so irritated but couldn’t help herself.
“Well, excuse me for wanting to relax a little after a day spent frying like a chicken.” He stood tall, his eyes now glinting with resentment.
“And what, you don’t think I work equally hard at the diner?” Eliza climbed off her bed and stood to challenge him. She was just a foot away and could smell his familiar musky man-scent.
He remained in the doorway. “And whose fault do you think that is?”
“Get out!” she screamed and pushed his chest as hard as she could, but he was muscular and strong and didn’t budge. She started to push again, but he backed up two steps out of the doorway.
“I’m sorry. I…don’t know what got into me.” His face blushed with embarrassment. “It was a long day. I’m really sorry.”
Eliza was still furious, but her energy faded, and her voice sounded like a little girl’s in her ears. “It’s okay, I had a hard day too. Just go, I’m really tired.”
“Okay, good night.” His expression was dejected as he looked down, not meeting her eyes as she shut the door on him.
“ACHAK!” She sat upright in her bed, waking from a bad dream in a cold sweat, her tee-shirt nearly soaked. Pulling it off over her head, she fought to remember, not knowing she had screamed his name.
They were in a forest. A white man, scarred and ugly, was lunging for her friend with a huge, dagger-like knife, plunging it into his abdomen. But she was tied to a tree and couldn’t free herself to help him.
She heard a soft knock on her door and pulled the bedsheet up to cover her nakedness. “Come in,” she said.
Alex gently opened the door a few inches and peered in. “Are you okay? You called my name. Well, my old name. It sounded like you were in trouble.”
“Sorry to wake you, I was having a bad dream.”
“Oh, okay, well I just wanted to make sure.” He went to close the door behind him.
“Stay.” Eliza whispered it so softly she wasn’t sure she said the word out loud.
Alex opened the door a little wider and stood in the doorway, dressed only in boxer shorts, looking baffled. “Did you say stay?”
“Yes, please, sit.” She motioned for him to sit with her on the end of her twin-sized bed, which, together with a dresser they had bought at the thrift shop down the road, nearly filled the little bedroom. “Sorry I woke you.”
“That’s okay, you sounded scared to death.” He didn’t bother turning on the light since the full moon was enough to illuminate his way to sit on the edge of her bed. “What was your dream about?”
When Eliza was done relaying her nightmare, she noticed Alex’s eyes shimmering with tears in the soft moonlit glow. She reached out and covered his hand with her own, being careful to hold the sheet around her. “Hey, it was just a dream.”
“I know.” Alex blinked, obviously embarrassed for her to see him like this. He cleared his throat. “It’s just that I felt really bad for what I said earlier. You’re all I have, Eliza. You’re my best friend, and I would never hurt you. I know I’ve never said this to you before, but, well, I love you.”
Eliza was stunned, unable to speak, but her heart filled her chest until it felt like it would explode. Not thinking, only feeling, she reached her arms toward him, and he moved toward her, and they embraced, the sheet falling away between them.
He kissed her, and she felt lightheaded tasting the sweet saltiness of his mouth on hers. Suddenly they were lying together under the sheets, their bodies blending into one.
THEY NEVER SPOKE AGAIN of that night together until several moons later, just after her nineteenth birthday, when Eliza realized she had missed her menstrual cycle.
The two had fallen in love with each other that night but decided to honor their heritage and upbringing by staying chaste thereafter. Still, it was impossible for them to be platonic, so they spent many nights kissing and touching, going to bed restless and aching for each other. Not talking about their intimate night was one thing but trying not to think about it was like un-lighting a fire. You could douse it with water to put it out, but you couldn’t pretend it had never been lit in the first place nor take away the heat it had already cast upon you.
Alex had surprised Eliza the night of her birthday with a candlelit dinner for two. He had cooked her favorite meal, roasted Cornish game hen with potatoes, and had set their small dinette with folded napkins, the Corelle plates, and silverware they had bought on sale at Walmart. He had even decorated with balloons and fresh flowers. And after dinner he brought her a small chocolate frosted cake topped with nineteen candles and sang “happy birthday” to her.
She cried happy and sad tears at the same time, loving him and missing her family.
During dinner they had actually talked about getting married to put an end to their torture.
“But I don’t want to get married for just that reason,” she had told him shyly.
“Of course not, me neither.” He had quickly added, “I love you, you know that. I want to make you my wife.”
“I love you too, but I think we might want to wait until we have a little bit of money saved up, you know, maybe I can buy a nice dress and we can invite a few people, maybe have our wedding at a nice restaurant and even take a little honeymoon.” Not exactly the way I pictured my wedding, with hundreds of friends and family at a traditional Navajo ceremony, but at least it would be something.
“Okay, I’ll surprise you when the time is right,” he said, winking at her and grinning.
THE NEXT MORNING at Randy’s she had cried all over again recounting the birthday dinner to one of her waitress friends. I’m so emotional lately, she realized, sipping a cup of coffee during her ten-minute break. And tired. Oh well, it’s probably the lack of sleep I’m getting from longing to lie next to Alex every single night.
Because she worked the breakfast and lunch shifts, Eliza got off before Alex that day. She came home and plopped, exhausted, onto the couch, her back aching. Just my period coming, she thought, but then realized it was late. At least a week late, and for a girl whose menses was normally on time each month, Eliza suddenly panicked.
She drove to Walmart, got a pregnancy test kit, went home, and waited.
And it was positive. It all became clear to her now—why she’d been feeling weepy and tired and, come to think of it, more nauseous than usual over Randy’s greasy beef barbecue lately.
A baby! She couldn’t believe it. It was the only time they…well, she wasn’t so sure about him…she had made love—ever! It’s impossible, I’m too young. She looked in the mirror and hardly recognized the thin young woman staring back at her with well-defined cheekbones, a slim, long neck, and slight circles under her huge brown eyes.
She suddenly noticed how she had lost a lot of weight. But she couldn’t think about that now. She had a whole lot more to worry about. Oh my gosh, what will Alex say, what will we do?
Fortunately, she didn’t have much time to fret about how to tell him the news. He burst in the door two minutes later, whistling “You Are My Sunshine.” “Hey sweetheart, where are you, I have some news!” he shouted good-naturedly from the living room.
Boy, so do I. Eliza wrapped the pregnancy stick in some tissue and tucked it into the pocket of her black skirt, noting absent-mindedly that she hadn’t even changed from her work uniform. She looked in the mirror again, forced a big smile, and came out to give him a hug.
“How’s my girl?” he asked, kissing her neck, tickling her.
“Fine and dandy.” It was a saying her mom used to use. Sometimes she couldn’t help herself, she realized, putting her parents out of her mind. “Why don’t you sit down? I have some news for you too.” She took his hand to lead him to sit down but he broke free and stood, looking triumphant.
“I bet my news is bigger than yours!”
“Oh, I highly doubt that,” Eliza said, slightly annoyed and tickled at the same time over the irony of his statement.
“Okay, then, you go first, smarty-pants.” Alex finally followed Eliza’s prompting for him to be seated during her news.
She sat next to him on the couch, nervously running her hands over her skirt. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you it was big. Um, I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll just say it. I’m pregnant.”
Eliza watched as the huge smile beaming across Alex’s face slowly faded, the color left his face, and his eyes grew wide with shock.
“You’re…preg…pregnant?” Eliza could only nod, worried that Alex was upset. “I can’t believe…well…okay then…”
“I know, I can’t believe that it only took that one time, with me being a virgin…”
“I was a virgin too.”
Eliza’s mouth hung open and then she felt her heart sing with the news.
Alex sat on the couch, still looking incredulous, his thick, black eyebrows knit in concentration for a minute. And then he unexpectedly smiled at her.
“Why are you smiling?” she asked, still nervous.
“Because I love you, Eliza, and this means there’s only one thing left for us to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Get married!” He suddenly was kneeling on the threadbare living room carpet in front of her. “Eliza Smith, will you marry me? I’m sorry I don’t have a ring and all but––”
“Yes!” Eliza’s heart soared, and she threw both arms around her best friend’s neck, breathing in his earthy smell. She looked teary-eyed at him, making sure he was of sound mind, but all she saw was love in his eyes. “I don’t need a ring. All I need is you.”
LIFE GOT EVEN HARDER for the newlyweds. They were married the following Friday by a justice of the peace in the courthouse in downtown Phoenix, each asking a co-worker to stand in as a witness. That way they could at least have Saturday and Sunday off to celebrate, even though it was in their tiny apartment. Eliza had found a tea-length white dress in the Goodwill store, and Alex, dressed in the only pair of khaki slacks he owned with a white polo shirt he had found on sale at Walmart, told her she looked beautiful as she took his hand and they said their vows.
Soon after the wedding, both Eliza and Alex picked up more hours at work whenever they could to save a few extra dollars to put toward the baby fund, both coming home every night exhausted.
Eliza was fortunate not to have morning sickness, at least during the third trimester of her pregnancy.
But Cameron’s birth was not easy.
“THIS REALLY, REALLY HURTS!” Eliza gasped between labor pains, lying in the delivery room hospital bed, her head swimming with fear.
“Isn’t there something you can give her for the pain?” Alex asked the attending obstetrician, an intern at Saint Joseph Hospital. Eliza’s regular doctor was involved in a complicated surgery at the moment.
“No, not yet, she’s not far enough along,” the young doctor said, checking a clipboard.
I’d like to take that clipboard and whack him over the head, Eliza thought, clenching her teeth as the next wave of pain slammed her abdomen and lower back simultaneously, nearly rendering her unable to catch her breath. I don’t know if I can take this. Eliza panicked. She had only been in labor for an hour. Sweat dripped from her forehead, but she felt like she was freezing.
“Alex, you’ve got to do something,” Eliza said, gripping her husband’s hand until it was nearly white. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“Doc, no offense, but can we get a real…I mean, you know, a doctor in here?” Alex flinched as Eliza groaned in agony. “How long is it gonna be until she gets something for the pain?”
The young Hispanic doctor, who looked to be only a few years older than they were, finally took his eyes from the chart and glanced at Eliza as if she were a peculiar animal under observation, not hiding the fact that he was offended by Alex’s question. “Is this your first child?” he inquired with authority, his tone tinged with disdain.
“Yes, but…this just…doesn’t feel normal.” Eliza said the words in between deep breaths.
“Well, I assure you it is. But let me tell you what, I’ll be back in an hour to check on you, and we’ll see if your cervix has dilated any further. Then perhaps we can give you a little something for the pain.” The young doctor hurriedly jotted something on the clipboard chart and, without saying anything further, turned and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
An hour! Eliza seethed with anger. But then another labor pain took so much energy from her that her words tumbled out in a hoarse whisper between ragged breaths. “Alex, I just don’t think I can do this.” She started to cry, feeling like a helpless, small child being bullied. Only her enemy, the one who kept kicking and punching her in the gut, was unseen, making it impossible to fight back. She could see the helplessness on her husband’s face too, as he wrung his hands, pacing back and forth across the little room.
Another pain cramped her midsection, knifing its way into her back, and Eliza screamed out loud this time, writhing on the bed until the crashing wave subsided, leaving her limp, lifeless form in its wake. She shut her eyes, talking softly. “I feel like I just want to die,” she said and started to weep.
But the next pain, hitting her just two minutes later, made her shriek so loud that a redheaded nurse who looked like she was barely a teenager popped her head through the door. “Is everything all right?” she asked timidly.
“No, everything is not all right.” Alex jumped to his feet from where he had been sitting on the side of his wife’s bed and grabbed the nurse’s forearm before she could escape. “You need to get the doctor, a real doctor. Now.”
The nurse’s blue eyes widened in alarm, her freckled face paling. She wordlessly nodded, and as soon as Alex loosened his grip on her arm, she fled the room, returning two minutes later with Eliza’s ob-gyn. Dr. Manning, a kind, graying man with spectacles, had delivered thousands of babies in his lifetime.
In seconds, Dr. Manning checked Eliza, and in a calm voice which apparently masked his concern, he delivered the news to the young couple. “Eliza, you were right, your pains aren’t normal. We have to do an emergency C-section to get the baby out as soon as possible. He is pushing against the umbilical cord. We have a matter of minutes to get him out.”
Eliza’s whole body started to shake uncontrollably. She looked over at Alex, who was standing against the wall, and saw his face turn nearly gray with fear. A nurse covered her with a warm blanket and suddenly she was being wheeled on a gurney into the operating room, counting down. Thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, eight…