Michael Smith - Rivers

LATER IN THE NIGHT KRIS felt a sharp pain in her back and she shifted around, tried to get comfortable, but no matter how she turned the pain remained and she finally woke up Nadine, who slept on the other side with the baby in the middle.

“I’m dying,” Kris said.

Nadine sat up on the mattress, rubbed at her face. “What?”

“My back feels like a big cramp and it’s moving around my sides,” she said and she was breathing big breaths.

Nadine got up off the mattress and walked around and took Kris’s hands. She helped her to her feet and she moaned going up. The baby was bundled and didn’t wake and Nadine helped Kris to the door and out of the trailer. When they were outside, Kris let out some loud groans and then she doubled over. “At least it’s quit raining for a damn second,” Nadine said. She got a chair and Kris sat down carefully with her legs straight out and she held both hands on the sides of her stomach.

“Shit,” Nadine said. She wanted to do something but didn’t know what, so she paced back and forth in front of Kris as if to distract her. She rubbed her hands together and looked around at the defeated fire and she stopped pacing and jumped up and down a little.

“Ooooohhh, God,” Kris moaned again and her thick head of hair blew around with the wind.

“What is it? Where is it?” Nadine asked and she knelt at Kris’s feet.

“It’s all around me like somebody’s squeezing a belt. Oh shit.”

“Hold my hands.”

“Oh shit.”

They joined their four cold hands and Kris squeezed like hell, grimacing and grunting. Her round face twisted and she showed her teeth when she moaned. Her short legs lifted slightly off the ground when she squeezed hands and her bushy, matted hair fell around her head like some wild woman’s.

“Hold on, honey,” Nadine said and she kept talking, kept urging her to hang on but she didn’t know what she was telling her to hang on for. Kris squeezed harder and harder and she seemed gripped all over, and she let out a long, extended moan like an animal dying in the woods. Nadine begged her to hold on, held her hands, let go and went behind her and rubbed her shoulders but Kris reached up and took her hands again and squeezed her fingers together tightly. Nadine let her hold on. Several more minutes like this, but then whatever it was began to ease some and the moaning eased, and then whatever it was had gone.

“Oh God,” Kris said. Exasperated.

Nadine let go of her hands and pushed Kris’s hair back from her face. Her forehead was damp with sweat. “You need to let me cut this wild stuff,” she said.

Kris shook her head. Slowed her breathing. “And look like you? You got a worse haircut than Brisco.”

Behind them a trailer door opened and Cohen came out. He was pulling on his coat and holding a flashlight and the beam shined on the two women. He walked over and said, “What’s going on?”

Nadine said, “She’s hurtin.”

“How so?”

Nadine shrugged. “Bad.”

Cohen then asked Kris.

“I don’t know,” she said. She was trying to sit up straight in the folded chair and Nadine helped her up. “Got these cramps or something. Started in my back like somebody had elbows all across and then it moved all around.”

Cohen looked back at Nadine, who looked at him, and they both waited for the other to say something that would help. Neither did.

Finally Cohen said, “First time?”

Kris nodded.

“We gotta get the hell outta here,” Nadine said.

“Is it stopped all over?” Cohen asked.

Kris nodded again.

From the trailer, the baby cried.

“I’ll get him,” Nadine said and she left them and went to the infant.

“There’s a bottle in there somewhere,” Kris called.

Cohen took a cigarette out of his coat pocket and lit it and then he walked back to his trailer and came back with a bottle of water. He gave it to Kris and she seemed okay for now. Cohen smoked and she drank the water and they listened to the crying baby and the faint hiss of the few remaining embers.

“You want something else?” Cohen asked.

“Nah. Just to sit still.”

Cohen finished and tossed his cigarette and he moved over to the fire pit and tossed a couple of branches on the coals. They watched for several minutes but nothing happened except a little smoke.

“What was her name?” Kris asked.

Cohen looked to her. He cleared his throat and spit. Didn’t answer.

“Most people have names,” Kris said.

“There were two. Elisa and Rivers.”

“Rivers was a little one?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds like a little one. How’d you pick that name?”

Cohen rocked back and forth a little. “We went to Venice one time. Biggest thing we ever did. She loved it there and liked calling it the city of rivers. Took her about nine seconds to name the baby Rivers when we found out it was a girl.”

They were silent again. Nadine had found the bottle and the crying had stopped. The fire snapped.

“Mariposa said something about your stuff. That’s why I was asking,” she said.

“That’s all right.”

“You was still in your house?”

“Yeah. Was.”

“That’s a little bit remarkable.”

“Not as remarkable as all this shit,” he said and he motioned around the circle of trailers strapped to the ground with ropes and spikes.

Kris held out her hand and Cohen took it and helped her to her feet. She was a little round thing in all the bundles of clothes covering her growing stomach. She pushed her hair away from her face, then put her hands on her back and stretched. She edged toward the fire. Cohen lit another cigarette.

Behind them a door opened and Mariposa came out. She tied a scarf around her head to hold back her hair and she stood up a cinder block and sat on it. “You okay?” Mariposa said.

“For this second,” Kris answered. She arched her back again. Looked off into the dark. “He killed my husband,” she continued. “Right out there somewhere. Just walked him out and killed him after pretending he was gonna take us up to the Line. We got stuck down here trying to come back for some of our stuff. It was so stupid and we knew it was but he had some tractors that was worth something and it seemed like money if we could somehow get a couple up. Soon as we got back down we got caught in a bad one. Him and Joe fished us out and brought us out here. I took one look at it and knew something wasn’t right and I told Billy but he shrugged it off. I told him about thirty seconds after we got here, we gotta go. Let’s just go. Next day Aggie walked him out there and he killed him. And then he locked me up with the other two or three and then found some more and locked them up and then they stuck this in me.” She pointed at her stomach and then she bent over and put her hands over her face and started to cry. She bounced and cried and looked like she might go to her knees but Cohen grabbed the chair and stuck it under her and Mariposa hurried up and helped ease her down. They stepped back from her and she cried and cried and for some reason that Cohen couldn’t explain he felt like a fool.

He kept on smoking and Mariposa paced back and forth. Kris cried and then she wiped her eyes. Sniffed. Got it together.

“What about her?” Cohen asked and pointed toward the trailer where Nadine had gone.

“I don’t know much. She was here when I got here. You, too?”

Mariposa nodded.

“Think she’s been here a long time. She don’t say much about it. I know I saw her take a swing at Aggie one day and him and Joe put down that revolution real quick. Think that might’ve happened a few times.”

“At least a few,” Mariposa said.

“Did you know them other ones that run off already?” Cohen asked.