Their last day in Buenos Aires Alex woke and stared at the curtains of the hotel room. He had forgotten to close them and soft light attacked his eyes. Julia was still asleep, her mouth a little open and her cheek moist against his arm. He touched a finger to her lip to wake her and instantly her eyes were wide and staring. She always woke like that, not groggy like a normal person but staring as though she’d been stabbed or threatened in a dream. She stretched slightly, asked the time and trudged off to the bathroom.
“Do you need anything from the drugstore?” he asked.
“No.”
Broken condoms were something for teenagers to worry about Alex had thought, and he felt as foolish now and a little more concerned than he had been in the weeks preceding this trip. He had told her several times that he didn’t know why she wouldn’t buy a test, and she would patiently say they would know by the twelfth and give him a look that said “won’t you feel silly then.” He wasn’t convinced by her stoic attitude, but since he feared the cold, impersonal results of a test available in a checkout line he stopped pushing the issue. He threw on his orange sweater and followed her out of the hotel.
***
The unopened blister pack of pills sat near her cup on the table, the same place she had left them two months before. She had texted Alex to let him know. She told him he wasn’t around and taking them only reminded her of that. She didn’t say she feared infidelity. If there was no protection there would be no risks. He would return in a few more weeks. Julia lifted the packet, ran her fingers along the bumps and then placed them back on the table and returned to her attention to the list of flights for Buenos Aires. Soon they would be on a 17 hour flight together. Enough time to see if months of separate lives had done damage, to see if they were the same people.
***
“Just ask someone where a bathroom is,” Alex said, proud that even he knew the Spanish for it.
She was moving her small feet up and down in a child’s dance.
“It’s embarrassing.”
“No one cares, or look, there’s a McDonalds.”
“I hate McDonalds.”
“You don’t have to eat the food, just use their bathroom.”
“I hate what they stand for.”
“My God Julia, just go.”
He waited outside. The bank across from him had a large readout of temperature, date and some words he couldn’t read. He tried to practice converting the temperature to Fahrenheit but it changed too quickly. It said it was the 18th and he sighed.
She returned and kicked at the ground.
“Do you want to buy a test?”
“I don’t know how to even ask for one.”
***
They climbed out of the subway and up a long flight of stairs arriving next to a busy street that reminded Alex of New York.
“This isn’t it,” Julia said, and turned back toward the stairs.
“Wait a second.” Alex rechecked the map. They were several stops past where they should have switched.
Julia leaned against a wall. He studied the names of the stops. She already looked tired, and although he knew it was jet lag, he couldn’t help picturing some little sea-monkey thing inside her, sapping her energy.
His cousin had miscarried in a car accident. She hadn’t even known she was pregnant. At the top of the stairs he imagined pushing Julia, lightly enough for it to be an accident. He could see the way her hair would fly out and distinctly saw one of her black ballet flats staying on the step as the rest of her bumped and rolled down. The fantasy lasted only a second and he felt sick with himself.
***
They sat in a drugstore parking lot the night it happened, the white paper pharmacy bag between them containing a plan b pill. Her eyes were shiny with tears as she read potential side effects.
“I don’t want a baby growing outside my uterus.”
***
Smelling the dog shit on her shoe, Julia wondered why on earth they had chosen this place. She did not feel romanced. Every corner had a beggar, many were children. Her guide book told her not to give money to them because often they were drugged. It referred to the men who sent them out as modern day Fagans. In restaurants women would wander in and leave merchandise on the table for customers to examine and possibly buy. It was depressing. She had begun crying the day before when she saw a limping dog. Every child and animal seemed to need her and she could take none of them home. Alex said if they lived here she would be a hoarder and he’d see her on TV someday surrounded by street dogs and drugged Argentine babies.
***
When he returned from the kitchen, her cat had settled against her and in Alex’s place. He sighed at the dark figure, huddled and glaring from the sheets.
“Really cat? It’s my last morning with her.”
Julia moved a gift bag from her other side and motioned for Alex to sit there.
“Do you like your goodbye gift?” she asked.
Alex lifted the bright orange Texas Longhorns sweater from the bag.
“It’s awesome. If I get lost in the snow they can find me.”
“You can show the Syracuse students your Texas pride.” Julia lifted the coffee cup to her mouth, an old habit of hiding half her face when emotional. It was a gesture Alex was familiar with. He moved the cat to the floor and leaned his head against Julia’s shoulder.
“The months will go by fast. We’ll both be so busy.”
“Why are you so mean to him?” She made soft clicking or clucking noises till the cat rejoined them
“I’m not. He’s fine.”
She held the animal up to her face. “What if Scrim was our baby?”
“I’d be concerned about his hair.”
She released her hold and the cat leapt off. Julia took her pillow and stuffed it under her shirt.
“What would you do if I were pregnant?”
Alex was quiet for a moment, then with exaggerated sound effects he made a punching motion toward her stomach and laughed not unkindly.
“I dunno.”
***
As she stared down the subway stairs she felt the minute slow down. She had felt this way before when she had been in a minor car accident. Alex had been driving and as their car slid into the side of a white dodge neon, Julia had felt herself observing everything through freeze frames. The other driver’s frightened face, the sound of the brakes and the way her own body bent forward in a curve as they made contact. She had thought, this is why films have slow motion. Now, as she purposely caught her toe on the step she was aware of her every thought. She could hear the subway below and in the back of her mind wondered if this would work.
***
He could smell her shoes and wondered if he should tell her that she’d stepped in something. He remembered the video his high school teacher had shown of childbirth and still felt disgusted. His baby would smell like dog shit. Still, it would be his shit covered baby. That had to count for something.
The stores were too known to be enjoyable to either of them. At an Ed Hardy outlet Julia turned on a smaller street and silently Alex followed into a residential area. The homes were older and many yards still green despite the cold breezes. Julia shivered slightly and Alex felt the need to protect her from whatever he needed to, whether it was the cold or himself.
***
Alex barely noticed. She hadn’t made a sound but suddenly her legs were folding and she was leaning toward the stairs. He thought he had pushed her for a second, his fantasy had gotten away from him and slipped into an actual motion. He seized her elbow and pulled her back up, holding her while she caught her balance. He was surprised when she cried out.
“Did you twist your ankle?”
She shook her head.
“Did I hurt you?”
She again shook her head. He put his sweater on her.
“It’s cold, wear this.”
***
Alex came from the bathroom and rubbed his neck.
“I think we need to run to the drugstore.”
“You did wear something, didn’t you?”
“It broke, maybe the air pressure on the plane weakened it or something.”
“That doesn’t even make sense, Alex.” Julia pulled on her jeans and a t-shirt quickly.
“It was hot in the terminal, and it was in my back pocket.”
She tripped over the cat and swore.
“We can wait till morning, I mean it doesn’t have to be done right now. Hence the name morning after pill.” He tried to laugh.
“The flight’s at seven a.m.”
***
Alex had to look away from the man with a bulbous nose who had risen from the stained blue subway seat. He gestured for Julia to take his place. With other’s eyes on her she moved forward and said “gracias” quietly.
As the doors began to slide close a little boy jumped on. He was dark and small and moved swiftly down the aisle holding his hand out. If a person high-fived him, he would reach into the bag he carried and hand them a small package of pens or a piece of cardboard, either a soccer trading card or a calendar. When he reached Alex he held his hand out firmly making eye contact. Alex shook his head. The boy kept his hand out.
“No tengo nada.” Alex turned to Julia, “Can you use double negatives in Spanish? Does it make it a positive?” She shrugged. She spoke to the boy softly and took some coins from her pocket. He held open his bag . She selected a pocket calendar with a small cartoon bear holding a heart and handed it up to Alex.
He circled a date and then pulled out his guide book.
“This recommends a bar in Palermo,” Alex said. “It says “a warm ambience and womb -like lighting…what is womb-like lighting?”
“Orange. I think it’d be orange.”
Avra Elliott grew up in the southwest with her family of avid readers and artists. After marrying the man who sat in front of her during her first creative writing class, she hopes to attend graduate school for her MFA in creative writing. Her work has been published in Scribendi.
Mi espanol is mal- que es, “La Fecha”? =) Actually, I would very much like to read this chapter in a book. Good charcters, compelling enough to make me care about what happened before and what comes next.
It means “The Date.” Thank you.