Clary mimed oral sex and the woman flinched, unsure if she were understanding right. The little girl calmly finished her sandwich and reached for another.
Zelda grimaced and re-arranged her legs as the water rolled toward the rear of the truck. Clary laid down her sandwich and lifted up Zelda’s skirt to see where the yellow liquid was coming from.
• • • •
THE TRUCK HONKED its way through traffic, the heavy woman shouting, ”Pregnant woman having a baby, move aside.”
“It’s okay, this doesn’t mean the baby’s hurt.” Annette said soothingly. “Your water broke, that’s all.
She held Zelda’s hand as Clary mopped the liquid with a towel, fascinated. The truck pulled up in front of the emergency room entrance of Ramirez County Hospital, where the heavy woman roared a path, commandeering a wheelchair and leaving them in front of the nurse’s station while she pulled aside curtains until she found a doctor.
The receptionist stared. “Lifecard?”
“We lost it,” Annette said calmly. “My wife and I were at the the soldiers parade with our little girl.” Clary wandered around the waiting room, soaked towel on her shoulder.
“You have no proof?”
Annette shrugged sheepishly.
“Are you giving these folks a hard time?” The hefty woman returned, her voice a club. “They were on their way to honor our soldiers and you’re harassing them about a goddamn Lifecard? Damn hospital’s free anyway.”
“There’s paperwork…”
The woman flung her purse onto the counter. “I’m her aunt.”
The receptionist inhaled bravely. “Do you have proof?”
“You really want to explore that?” She bared her teeth. The receptionist started processing them.
“Thank you,” Zelda said.
The woman waved it off. “Have Diego grow up to be a Tigers fan.”
An orderly took them into a narrow examining room. Another roar from the woman about driving her pickup truck around the emergency room if her niece wasn’t helped right away produced a slightly ruffled Dr. Lera.
“What’ve we got here?” she asked briskly.
“My wife’s water broke,” Annette said.
“Gush or dribble?” The doctor slipped on the stethoscope.
“Gush.”
“Any contractions? And I think Zelda should answer this one.” Zelda shook her head, cringing at the cold stethoscope on her stomach. “What color was the liquid?”
“Yellow,” Annette answered.
The doctor removed the stethoscope from around her neck. “Heartbeat’s normal, thank Grandma’s earlobes. Would you mind if I examined your vagina for any fluids escaping?”
Zelda waited for Annette to approve. The doctor smiled and inserted a speculum, nodding, pleased.
“Everything looks all right for now,” she said cautiously. “We have two choices. Induce labor or wait twenty-four hours for the contractions to begin.”
“We have to get to the baseball game.” Zelda tried sitting up.
The doctor laughed. “I don’t think you’ll make that. But you can watch it here tomorrow. Let’s concentrate on the baby.”
Annette took Zelda’s hand. “We’ll wait.”
“Yes, wait,” Zelda agreed. “The joy of pregnancy isn’t something you want to rush.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow and left them.
“I can’t check in.” Zelda lay on her back.
“You already did. I gave a false name.”
“Oh that’s good.”
“Well, you are an escaped criminal.”
“Who am I?”
“Dara Dinton.”
Zelda laughed until she ached. “Perfect.”
“It was the best I could come up with.”
Zelda kissed her cheek. “I know. Thank you.”
Annette blushed. “De nada.”
“Si, si,” Clary said brightly.
“Just let me rest and then we’ll leave. I’ve got to warn Puppy.”
“I’ve got to warn Puppy,” Annette said mockingly. “Always so noble. Fuck ten guys and get pregnant and you’re still a virgin. You can’t travel.”
“I just need to sleep.”
“No.” Annette leaned on the edge of the cot. “I can move quicker alone.”
Zelda thought a moment before nodding reluctantly, then arched her head at Clary. She cut off Annette’s protests. “If the Black Tops were taking me away, what do you think they’ll do to her?”
Annette frowned. “The idea’s not to have you caught.”
“No. The idea is to stop the Miners. And keep our daughter safe.” They exchanged wry smiles. “Promise you’ll take her.”
Annette nodded unenthusiastically. “I have many faults, but I’m not a liar. You damn DVs rubbed off on me.”
Zelda struggled to a sitting position and cupped Clary’s chin. “You have to go to Puppy Beisbol.”
Clary clapped.
“But I can’t go with you. El bebe.”
“Then Clary stay with el bebe and Zelda.”
“No, honey. You go with Annette.”
“No,” she hissed in horror.
“You have to…”
“No no no,” Clary yelled, shaking her head. “Stay with Zelda.”
“First help Annette. Help Puppy.” Zelda squeezed her tightly. “Go. Before polizia come.” The child stiffened in fear. “I love you.”
“Te amo de una madre.”
The sobbing Clary ran out of the examining room and toward the wide glass exit doors, giving the entire emergency room the finger.
• • • •
IMPROMPTU STORY CENTERS sprouted along the Major Deegan Expressway, snaking down the Grand Concourse. Everyone had a theory about how they started: a soldier stopped to rest, a soldier fainted, a soldier ate some food, a soldier asked where he could poop, kids politely called out a question about the Battle of Copenhagen, Nice, the Kenyan Bloodbath. Or what it was like to have an artificial leg. Arm. Eye. A combination.
Soldiers would climb onto a car, a few hopping DV-style from hood to hood with mischievous grins, and begin answering questions. Modest, they’d call up a colleague when they didn’t know the answer; hey, that’s artillery, that’s for the Navy Seals, I never flew a plane, I’m a Marine, son.
Cars would pull onto the soft shoulders or simply park cock-eyed, funneling lanes and intensifying traffic which barely moved anyway, vehicles scraping each other to allow the marching soldiers to pass. Food would be handed from car to car. Blankets, pillows, sofas were assembled on the spot. Coming to the Bronx for the first night game had been a party, kick down your neighbor’s door and barge in with no questions asked.
This was different. These were guests, strange people who had done strange things in your name, like kill human beings to protect your ass, your way of life. Yet they’d failed. Or had they? What
