Life Support (27 page)

"Jane's been the one bathing her every day�"

"So you didn't sec them? You don't even know about them?"

"She never asked me about them!"

"And the burns? What about the burns on Mom's hands?"

"That happened weeks ago! Mom picked up a hot dish from the stove. " ,,, "So there was a burn."

"It was an accident! Bryan was there when it happened."

"Are you saying Bryan's responsible?"

"No. No, that's not what I'm saying�"

"Then who is responsible, Toby?"

The two sisters stared at each other across Ellen's sleeping form.

"I'm your sister," said Toby. "You know me. How can you believe a complete stranger?"

"I don't know." Vickie ran her hand through her hair. "I don't know what to believe. I just want you to tell me what really happened.

I know Mom's hard to deal with. She's worse than a child sometimes, and it's not easy to�"

"What do you know about it? You've never offered to help."

"I have a family."

"Mom is family. Something your husband and kids can't seem to grasp."

Vickie's chin lifted. "You're turning it into another one of your guilt trips, the way you always do. Who suffers the most, who's most deserving of sainthood. Saint Toby."

"Don't."

"So when did you lose your temper? When did you finally crack and start hitting her?"

Toby jerked back, too shocked to speak, too angry to trust anything she did say.

Vickie's mouth was trembling. Her eyes filling with tears, she said, "Oh, God. I didn't mean that."

Toby turned and walked out of the cubicle. She didn't stop until she'd left the building and crossed the parking lot to her car.

The first place she drove was to Jane Nolan's house. She had her address book in her purse, and she looked up the entry for Jane. It was in Brookline, east of Springer Hospital.

A four-mile drive brought her to the address, a green-shingled duplex on a sterile, treeless street. There were planters on the front porch with hard-baked soil and a few dying weeds. The curtains were closed over the windows, shutting off all view of the interior.

Toby rang the bell. No one answered. She knocked, then pounded on the door. Open up, damnyou. Tell me why you're doing this to me!

"Jane!" she yelled.

The next-door neighbor's door opened and a woman cautiously poked her head out.

"I'm looking forSane Nolan," said Toby.

"Well stop pounding. She's not there."

"When will she be back?"

"Who're you?"

"I just want to know when Jane will be back."

"How should I know? I haven't seen her in days." The woman shut the door.

Toby felt like hurling a rock through Jane's window. She gave the door one last pound of her fist, then got back into her car.

That's when it all crashed down on her. Ellen in a coma Vickie turning into a spiteful stranger. She rocked forward and struggled not to cry, not to shatter. It was the blare of her own car horn that snapped her back up. She'd leaned too heavily on the steering wheel. A mailman, passing by on the street, stopped to stare at her.

She drove away. Where do I go? Where do I go?

She headed for Bryan's house. He would back her up. He had been there the day Ellen burned her hand, he'd be her character witness, the one person who knew how devoted she'd been to Ellen.

But Bryan wasn't home, he'd be at work until four-thirty, according to his companion, Noel, who answered the door. Would Toby like to come in for coffee? A drink? You looA2 lilee you need to sit down.

What he meant was she looked like hell.

She refused the offer. For want of any other destination, she drove home.

The police car was gone. Three of her neighbors stood conversing on the sidewalk in front of her house. As Toby's car approached, they turned and stared at her. By the time she pulled into her driveway, they had walked off in three different directions. Cowards. Why didn't they just ask her to her face if she'd beaten up her own mother?

She stormed into the house and slammed the door shut.

Silence. No Ellen. No one wandering in the garden, no one watching the morning cartoons.

She sat down on the couch and dropped her head in her hands.

"M lSlineXs a baby girl," said Annie, her fingers skimming over the bedcovers, caressing her belly. "I want her to be a girl, cause I wouldn't know what to do with a boy. Wouldn't know how to make him turn out right. Hardly meet a man these days who's turned out right."

They were lying side by side in the darkness on Annie's bed. The only light was the glow of the streetlamp outside the window. Every so often there'd be moving fragments of light from a passing car, and Molly would catch a glimpse of Annie's face, head resting on the pillow as she serenely gazed up at the ceiling. It was warm in the bed with Annie.

They had put on fresh sheets today, had sat together in the laundromat giggling and leafing through old magazines while the linens had spun round and round in the dryer. Now whenever Molly turned, she smelled that clean scent of laundry soap. And Annie's scent as well.

"How can you tell if it's a girl?" asked Molly.

"Well, a doctor can tell for sure."

"Did you see a doctor?"

"I didn't want to go back to that one. Didn't like that place."

"So how do you know it is a girl?"

Annie's hands began to move over her abdomen again. "I just know.

This nurse I met, she told me that when a mother gets to feeling like that, a real strong feeling, she's never wrong. This one's a girl."

"I don't have no feeling bout mine."

"Maybe it's too early for yours, Molly."

"I don't have no feeling bout it one way or the other. See, it doesn't seem like a person yet. It seems like just a lot of fat poochin' out here. Shouldn't I be feeling love or something'? I mean, isn't that what's supposed to happen?" She turned and looked at Annie's face, silhouetted against the window's glow.

UYou must feel something for it," said Annie softly. "Why else would you be keeping it?"

"I don't know."

Molly felt Annie's hand reach for hers under the covers. They lay with fingers entwined, their breathing in perfect synchrony.

"I don't know what I'm doing or why I'm doing it," said Molly. "I kind of got all mixed up. And then, when Romy knocked me around, I got so pissed at him I wasn't gonna do nothin' he told me to do. So I didn't go to that place." She paused and looked at Annie again. "How do they do it?"

"Do what?"

"Get rid of it?"

Annie shuddered. "I only had it done once. Last year, when Romy sent me to that place. Had these people all dressed in blue. Wouldn't talk to me, just told me to get on the table and shut up. They gave me something to breathe, and after that, I just remember waking up. All skinny again.

Empty . . ."

"Was it a girl?"

Annie sighed. "I don't know. They put me in the car and sent me back to him.S Annie released Molly's hand, and her withdrawal seemed more than just physical. She had retreated into some private compartment. A place for just her and her baby.

"Molly," said Annie, after a long silence. "You know you can't stay here much longer." The words, spoken so softly, delivered a stunning blow.

Molly turned on her side to face Annie. "What did I do wrong? Tell me what I did wrong."

"Nothing. It just can't keep going on this way."

"Why not? I'll do more. I'll do whatever you�"

"Molly, I said you could stay for a few days. It's been over two weeks.

Honey, I like you and all, but Mr. Lorenzo, he came up to see me today.

Complained that I had someone living here with me. Says that's not in our rental agreement. So I can't let you stay. It's small enough, with you and me here. When my baby comes�"

"That won't be for another month."

"Molly." Annie's voice had steadied. Turned unyielding. "You have to find your own place to live. I can't keep you here."

Molly turned her back to Annie. I thought we could be a family. You and your baby. Me and mine. No men, no assholes.

"Molly? You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You understand, don't you?"

Molly gave a weary shrug of one shoulder. "I guess."

"It's not like right away. You can take a few days, figure out where you're going. Maybe you could try calling your mama again."

"Yeah."

"She's bound to take you back. She's your mama."

When there was no reply, Annie reached over and slung an arm around Molly's waist. The warmth of the other woman's body, the other woman's swollen belly pressing against her back, filled Molly with such a sense of longing that she couldn't resist the impulse. Turning to face Annie, she wrapped her arms around Annie's waist and pulled her close, felt their bellies press together like ripening fruit. And suddenly she wished that she was in Annie's womb, that she was the child who would find its home in Annie's arms.

"Let me stay," she whispered. "Please let me stay."

Firmly Annie pushed away Molly's hands. "You can't. I'm sorry, l Molly, butyou can't." She turned and scooted to the far side of the bed.

"Now good night."

Molly lay very still. What did I say? What did I do wrong? Please, I'll do whateveryou want me to do. Just tell me what it is! She knew Annie was not sleeping, the darkness between them was too charged with tension. She sensed that Annie was coiled up as tightly as she was.

But neither one of them spoke.

The sound of groaning awakened her. At first Molly was confused by the last shreds of her dream. A baby floating in a pond, making strange noises. Frog noises. Then she opened her eyes, and it was still night and she was in Annie's bed. A light was shining under the bathroom door.

"Annie?" she said but heard no answer.

She rolled over and closed her eyes, trying to shut out that disturbing sliver of light.

A thump jolted her fully awake.

She sat up and squinted at the bathroom. "Annie?" Hearing no reply, she climbed out of bed and went to knock on the door. "Are you okay?" She turned the knob and pushed, but the door wouldn't open, something was blocking it. She pushed harder and felt the barrier give way slightly, allowing the door to open. She peered through the crack, at first not understanding what she saw.

A rivulet of blood on the floor.

',Annie!" she cried. Pushing with all her strength, she finally managed to open the door wide enough to squeeze through. She found Annie crumpled in the corner, her shoulder wedged against the door, her cheap nightgown gathered above her waist. Blood was splattered across the toilet seat, and the water in the bowl was a silky crimson. A warm stream suddenly gushed out from between Annie's thighs and lapped at Molly's bare toes.

In horror, she backed away and collided with the sink.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

Though Annie wasn't moving, her belly was, it was squirming, the bare skin bunching into a tight ball of flesh.

More blood gushed out, streaming across the linoleum. The warmth of the blood trickled around her chilled feet, shaking Molly out of her trance. She forced herself to step through the crimson pool, to cross to Annie's coiled-up body. She had to move her out from behind the door. She grasped Annie's arm and pulted, but her feet kept slipping in the blood. Annie made a noise, a high, soft whine, like the hiss of air escaping from a balloon. Molly pulled harder, finally managing to drag Annie a few feet across the linoleum. Now she placed her feet against the door jamb and, using that as an anchor, heaved at Annie's body.

Annie slid out of the bathroom.

She grabbed both arms now and pulled her completely through the doorway. Then she turned on the bedroom lights.

Annie was still breathing, but her eyes were rolled back, and her face was white.

Molly ran out of the flat and down the stairs. She pounded on the door of the ground-floor apartment. "Help me!" she cried. "Please, help me!"

No one answered.

She ran out of the building, to the pay telephone on the street, and dialed 911.

"Emergency operator."

"I need an ambulance! She's bleeding�"

"Your name and address?"

"My name's Molly Picker. I don't know the address. I think I'm on Charter Street�"

"What's the cross street?"

"I can't see it! She's going to die�"

"Do you know the nearest address number?"

Molly turned and frantically scanned the building. "1076! I see a 1076."

"Where is the victim? What is her condition?"

"She's in the upstairs apartment�she's bleeding all over the floor�"

"Ma'am, I'm dispatching an ambulance now. If you'll wait on the line�" Fuck this, thought Molly. She left the phone hanging and ran back into the building.

Annie was lying where she'd left her on the bedroom floor. Her eyes were open but unfocused and glassy.

"Please, you have to stay awake." Molly grasped Annie's hand, but there was no answering squeeze. No warmth at all. She stared at the chest, saw it expand in a shallow breath. Keep breathing. Please keep breathing.

Then another movement caught her eye. Annie's abdomen seemed to swell upward, as though some alien creature inside her body was straining to burst free. A gush of blood spilled out from between her thighs.

So did something else. Something pink.

The baby.

Molly knelt between Annie's knees and eased the thighs apart. Fresh blood, mixed with water, dribbled out around the protruding arm. At least Malty thought it was an arm. Then she saw there were no fingers, no hand, just that glistening pink flipper writhing slowly back and forth.

There was another contraction, a final gush of blood and fluid as the flipper slid out, followed by the rest of the body. Molly jerked backward, shrieking.

It was not a baby.

But it was alive and moving, the two flippers writhing in agonal struggles. It had no other limbs, just those two pink stubs waving from a single mass of raw flesh attached to an umbilical cord. She could see clumps of hair, coarse and black, a protruding tooth, and a single eye, unblinking, lashless. Blue. The flippers were thrashing, and the whole organism began to move with almost purposeful direction, like an amoeba swimming in a pool of blood.