Ikher locked the door, hopped down his stairs, and waved to Ken, who was leaving for classes. Hands in his hoodie, he walked over to Janine’s, bobbing and shuffling to the beat playing in his head.
After a few minutes of waiting against her van, he pushed off and walked toward her door. His foot was on her first step when the door opened and Roy sauntered out.
“My bag, mi youth,” Roy nodded, giving Ikher a pound. “Mi nah let her sleep last night.” The door opened again with Janine coming out on the phone, followed by Ainsley.
“Remember, you need to go light on this one,” she said into the phone, giving Ikher an exhausted look and pointing Ainsley to him. Ainsley, wearing a little puffy jacket and pink book bag, ran up and threw herself at him.
“Up! Up!” she yelled as he lifted her onto his hip.
“Hey kiddo,” he said, poking her in the stomach. “I like your hair. Did your mom do that?”
Ainsley smiled and nodded, making her little twists with beads bounce.
“Yeah, he’ll be ready tonight. Make sure you let me know when you’re done.”
Janine exhaled and hung up before locking her door. Roy kissed Janine on the cheek and headed for his truck.
“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” Janine said, waving Ainsley and Ikher toward the van. After dropping Ainsley off at preschool, Janine got back in the van and belted herself in.
“Hey, I’ve got to head into Ranola first but then it’s business as usual,” Janine said glancing at Ikher, who gave her a thumbs up. “You got anything planned for the weekend?” she asked, pulling off toward The Six.
He shrugged. “Nah. I might hit the bar tomorrow afternoon and watch a couple of games but that’s about it.”
“Excellent! I’m bringing you to a barbecue with some friends of mine up in the hills tomorrow.”
“Dope, do I need to bring a dish or anything?”
“Nah, just you.”
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The sun had risen beyond the floor to ceiling windows of Nancy’s office when Maurice walked in, shaking his head.
“That was Director Roundtree. He said to tell you he appreciates the gift and will gladly implement your suggestions.” Maurice blinked, trying to make sense of the message. “Are we working directly with the Fed offices now?”
Nancy chuckled.
“No. That’s just a little game I’m playing,” she said as she typed.
“You’re playing games with the FBI? Should I be concerned?”
“Only if you’re the Regional Special Agent,” she said before her face twisted and she stopped typing as her hands clenched.
“Are you alright?” he asked, coming over to stand in front of her desk.
She held up a finger and closed her eyes as she tried to breathe through it. She’d suffered through this all morning. He would hear Nancy stop working or suck in a breath, but then go back to what she was doing a few moments later.
“Mmmm.... yes,” she said after a moment. “It’s like someone is trying to pull my spine through my abdomen.”
“Okay, that’s not normal, and it’s been going on all day. Wait, are you having contractions?” he asked, which earned him a tired glare.
“No, I’ve got a month to go,” she said before easing back into her chair.
Maurice shook his head and sighed at her.
“Yeah, I don’t think you have control over that,” he said, crossing his arms. “Was your first pregnancy this bad?”
“I don’t think so, but it was a long time ago, and I was younger,” Nancy said before taking a deep breath and restarting her work.
Maurice hovered for a moment before walking back to her conference table. He jumped back into the layout templates but kept fidgeting in his seat or tapping his pen or bouncing his leg.
“You’re a ball of energy. Do you need to go for a walk?” Nancy asked as she sent her last email and pulled a folder from the desk drawer. Maurice sighed and put his pen down.
“I’ve got a question I want to ask, but you’re not going to like it,” Maurice said without turning to face her.
Nancy’s placed the folder on her desk and folded her hands before taking a deep breath.
“Go on.”
He spun in his chair. “Since Jared isn’t helping. What’s your plan for when the baby does come?”
“I’ll go to the hospital.”
“What if your car breaks down or you get in an accident on the way or something prevents you from getting to the hospital? Who would help you then?”
“What are you getting at?”
Maurice took a deep breath. “Are you sure you don’t want the father involved?”
She laughed. “Absolutely.”
Maurice pressed his lips together, looked down for a moment, and then back to her.
“I’m just playing devil’s advocate here,” he said, his eyebrows up, his posture tight. “But if I had a child on the way, I’d want to know about it and be included.”
Nancy’s expression swung from amusement to full-on malice.
“Was the entirety of your relationship based on a premeditated lie?!” she said, steel sharp in her eyes. Maurice shrunk in his chair, startled by her sudden vehemence and the semi-confession.
“I would... think not,” he muttered, making Nancy wave her hand and throw open the folder on her desk.
“Then you’d be included,” she spat as she turned her irritation to the report. Maurice knew better than to keep going and let the matter drop.
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They worked on in silence for the rest of the morning, aside from an occasional question and answer. Nancy’s abdominal pain continued, wearing away her resilience to the point she was increasingly audible with each one. After lunch, a painful sounding groan made Maurice get up and turn to her.
“Alright, that’s it. You’re going home.”
“I’m doing no such thing,” she said, looking up at him with tired eyes as she braced both hands on her desk.
Maurice’s shoulders dropped and his head tilted to the side as he sighed at her.
“You sound terrible. Please go home and get some rest. You and the baby need it. There isn’t anything here that can’t wait until tomorrow.”
Nancy exhaled before letting her head drop.
“You’re right,” Nancy said and pushed herself to stand but the room spun, making her grab the desk and sidestep to keep from tipping over. Maurice ran over and took her arm.
“Looks like I’m driving you home,” he said, helping her sit back down. “Or maybe to the doctors.”
“I don’t need to see a doctor,” she sighed after taking a deep breath. “My blood sugar’s just low from that stupid broth. And I don’t know if I want you driving my car.”
Maurice laughed. “Don’t you get all classist on me. I won’t hurt your expensive blue baby.”
Nancy pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know. Iv’e got to give you grief when I can,” he said, looping her purse onto his elbow and holding his hand out for her. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“Yes mother.”
Maurice brought her home, made sure she ate more broth. It took some convincing, but he got a taxi back to the office. He had offered to stay with her, but she wanted peace and quiet. Nancy had plied Jared’s bosses with favors and gifts, turning his work-from-home position into a travel-to-other-offices position. Michael was doing golf and lacrosse clubs after school. This meant both wouldn’t be home until well after dark, giving her the run of the house for some time.
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“Thanks for the ride!” Ikher said as Janine pulled up to his house. “What time are we leaving tomorrow?”
“I’m going to my sister’s after I get Ainsley so she can help do my hair. It depends on how late I’m up with that,” she said, laying her head on her shoulder as she looked at him. “Late morning-ish.”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Cool. I’ll be ready.”
Stashing the weed in its usual spot, Ikher cleaned the house before starting dinner. While eating, he decided to bring something to the get-together tomorrow. After finishing his meal, he took stock of what he had and made a batch of Chicken Satay Skewers.
After stowing the plate for tomorrow and tidying the kitchen, Ikher rolled a joint before he got ready for bed. He threw on a hoodie and came out to sit on the front porch. Everyone was home for the night except Janine so the street was quiet. If he focused, he swore he could hear the cars on The Six.
Relaxing in the cool fall air, Ikher finished the small joint and stood, stretching. He turned and made for his door when someone called out to him.
“Hey mister,” a voice called from his right. Turning, he saw a young man coming from the path in the woods. The newcomer glanced around every few seconds before looking back to Ikher.
“Umm,” he started, wringing his hands. “My friends said you sold weed,” he said in a whisper as he reached the bottom of Ikher’s steps. Ikher couldn’t guess his age as his hairless cheeks conflicted with his deeper voice. The kid’s t-shirt had a character from one of Ikher’s favorite fighting games.
“Dope shirt,” Ikher said, pointing as he let his door close. “Where’d you get it?”
The young man looked down at the shirt and back up to him, shrugging.
“Oh, I dunno. My uncle got it for me.”
“It’s all good. You wanted to buy?”
“Ummm, yeah,” the young man said, reaching in his back pocket and pulling some folded bills out. Ikher took a quick glance around before opening his door.
“Hang out for a sec. Let me get it.”
Ikher measured out a quick baggie and came back out. He took the kids’ money, handed the kid a baggie and then some of his cash back. The kid looked at the money and then back to Ikher.
“It’s too much. That’s your change.”
“Oh wow. Thanks,” the kid said with a big grin.
“You good?”
“I am. Thanks,” he said, opening the baggie to smelling its contents. “Yeah, that’s it.” He smiled up to Ikher, who nodded and turned to go back inside. “Hey, one more thing,” the young man said as he put the baggie on the railing. He reached in his back pocket and held something else up. Ikher squinted to see what it was before a chill shot down his neck. Swallowing, Ikher pulled his gaze from the badge to the young man, who had a smug smile on his face.
“Is this a joke?” Ikher asked as his chest tightened.
“Fraid not,” the young man grinned. “You’re under arrest for possession and distribution of marijuana.” He pulled a radio out of his back pocket, keyed the mic, and said, “We’re go.”
He pointed to Ikher and said, “You make this difficult, I promise it’ll end bad for you.”
A cop car pulled onto the road and parked in front of his house. In contrast to the smaller plain clothes cop, the one who stepped onto the curb was huge and in uniform. Yanking Ikher to his feet with ease, the larger officer twisted his arm behind his back and locked handcuffs on his wrists.
“Move,” the larger officer said as he walked Ikher over to the car, pushing him against the vehicle. “You have anything on you that can hurt me?”
“No, sir,” Ikher muttered, cheek against the window.
The officer let him go to pat him down. Not finding anything, he put Ikher in the back seat of the unmarked car and walked to join his partner in Ikher’s house. Letting his head fall against the window, Ikher could see them going through his kitchen, tossing things around.
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Relishing the quiet, Nancy worked in the kitchen for the rest of the day. As evening set in, she warmed up her dinner, ate, and migrated upstairs a little before Michael and Jared made it home. Even in her sanctuary, Nancy found no peace from the abdominal pains.
They had increased in intensity, wrenching her guts to the point where she was immobile when it happened. Sitting at her desk was uncomfortable. Sitting or laying on the chase was uncomfortable. The bathtub, the bed, pretty much anywhere, was uncomfortable.
Nancy moved back to the temporary office in her bedroom; If it was impossible to sleep or get comfortable, she may as well try to be productive. As she worked, she heard Michael and Jared come home.
Jared, his mood soured by the alteration of his job duties, sulked on his side of the house. Michael, both excited and concerned about having a younger sibling, checked on Nancy several times before he left to spend the night at a friend’s house.
She was rereading shipping proposals when lightning struck her abdomen. The proposal crumpled in her clenched fists as Nancy sucked ragged breaths through her teeth. When the sharp pain faded, Nancy leaned forward, resting her forehead on the desk.
“Come on, little girl,” Nancy said as she rubbed her stomach. “Cut me some slack.”
Maurice was right, these had to be contractions. She reached for her phone to call Linda, but stopped when she felt something warm and wet on her thighs. Nancy pushed back from the desk, annoyed that she had peed herself a bit for the hundredth time.
As soon as she got to her feet, she gasped as a cascade of fluid ran down her legs. She put her hand down her pajamas to check and found it was clear without a smell. A chill spread from the back of her ears down her arms, raising goose pimples. Her water just broke.
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Both cops exited Ikher’s home, each carrying a bag. He figured they’d take his weed, but his heart sank further when he realized they’d taken his savings as well. After putting the bags in the trunk, they got in the car. The smaller officer in the passenger seat turned to him.
“Where’s the rest?” he asked, pointing at Ikher through the wire cage separating them.
“Rest of what?”
“Don’t act stupid. Where’s the rest of your stash?” the smaller officer said, banging the cage between them as the larger officer started the car.
“I only have the one brick I got today,” Ikher said, shaking his head.
“Bullshit!”
“Relax,” the larger cop said as they drove off.
The smaller cop shot Ikher a venomous look before turning around. When they reached the police station, the larger officer yanked Ikher out and lead him to a side door, where the smaller plain-clothes officer then took him. They walked down a long hallway to a thick plexiglass door.
The door had a large slot in the middle with smaller air holes above it in an alternating diagonal pattern. A balding, middle-aged uniformed officer was sitting at a desk watching a small TV. Behind him, running the length of the room, were storage lockers.
“Try anything and you’ll wish you hadn’t,” the small cop said as he released Ikher’s restraints.
The officer in the room slid a clipboard and tray through a hole without looking at Ikher.
“Fill out the sheet. All personal items in the tray. Phones, jewelry, wallet, watches, belts, everything. Personal assistive devices such as glasses and hearing aids are the only exception,” the officer said without taking a breath and never taking his eyes from the television.
Ikher complied, putting in his watch and mobile phone. The balding officer read off the contents of the tray before having Ikher sign he agreed to the list. The smaller officer then took him further into the precinct, ending up in a room with two large cages.
Each cage had a long bench that ran the length of the inside with a break only where the door was. One cage was empty, the other had two men in it.
“Ummm, when can I make my phone call?” Ikher asked as the cop unlocked the door to the occupied cage.
“After you’re processed,” the cop said, opening the door and pushing Ikher in.
“When’s that?”
“Nine am.”
“That’s like... twelve hours from now.”
“Sure is,” the cop said as he flung the door closed and disappeared back the way they had come.
The metallic slam of the cage door felt like his coffin lid closing. They’d caught him with a brick and a ton of money. Janine said they’d give him five years for a brick, but with all the money he was sure he’d get more.
Ikher’s soul sank as he walked to the back corner of the cage and dropped to the seat. All he could do was wait until the morning when he was processed and got to call his mother. ‘Hi mom, I’m going to prison for drug trafficking. I’m sorry. I’m a terrible son.’ He exhaled and looked at his roommates.
One man, dressed in dirty torn clothing, was asleep, curled up on the bench. The stench coming from him said he was homeless and hadn’t showered in weeks or had gotten so drunk he’d soiled himself.
The other was a younger tan-skinned man with short-cropped hair in a button-up dress shirt, slacks, and dress shoes. Elaborate tattoos peeked out from his collar and sleeves. He had watched him come in, but now had his eyes closed as he leaned against his corner of the cage. The sleeping man hadn’t moved at all during Ikher’s entrance.
Ikher sighed, letting his head fall against the cage as he stared at the floor. This was it. Tonight was the end of his life as he knew it.
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The inability to reach around her stomach and the increasing pain from the contractions made changing out of the wet pajama bottoms and underwear an ordeal. Just as she pulled on another pair, lightning struck her again. The contractions were coming faster. She had to get to the hospital, or she was going to have the child here.
Once the pain subsided, she pulled herself up, using the shelving in her closet. Nancy grabbed her phone and delivery bag then used her desk, the chase, and the door as crutches to keep her upright.
Out in the hallway, another contraction struck, setting her abdomen on fire. Nancy was sweating and pain shot up her jaw from clenching her teeth.
When it passed, she opened her eyes and saw Jared standing in the opposite hallway, watching with a smile on his face. She gave him the most vile glare as she pulled herself down the hallway, reaching the top of the stairs where she waited, panting. If a contraction hit while she descended the stairs, she would fall.
When the lightning struck her again, she cried out, doubled over, and squeezed the banister so hard the wood groaned. Sucking in ragged breaths, she held on until the pain diminished. Even without looking up, she knew his eyes were on her, enjoying this. Her lip curled at the thought of him, but she turned her full attention to her descent.
Gripping the railing with both hands, Nancy methodically worked her way down, but the going was slow because of the delivery bag throwing off her balance. As she unslung and tossed it to the bottom, another contraction hit, doubling her over.
She faltered and lost her footing, but grabbed onto and held the railing. She swung around and slammed her shoulder against the banister, which flung her feet out from under her. She landed on her butt, still clutching the railing.
She saw flashes of light even with her eyes closed as she clenched through the contraction. Jared’s laughter from upstairs cut through the pain in her head and abdomen. As soon as it passed, she slid on her butt the rest of the way down the steps. Ignoring Jared, she pulled herself up, collected her bag, purse, keys, and slammed the door behind her as she left.
Getting to her car required her to traverse the walkway with flagstones an inch higher than the sea of loose gravel around it. Inside, the railing had saved her, but out here was nothing to hold on to. Nancy cut through the gravel and made it to the driveway before it struck again.
You can’t do this.
She screamed as she doubled over, landing against Jared’s work car. She bore the fire in her abdomen until it smoldered, then used the cars for support. Nancy made it to her car before it hit again, almost buckling her legs under her.
You can’t do this.
Unlocking her car, she tossed her bags onto the passenger seat, before lowering herself into the driver’s seat using the door and roof. She got the car started before another contraction hit. It felt like her abdomen was tearing apart.
Breathing through clenched teeth, Nancy putting the car in drive and started around the round about. She slammed on the brake when the pain shot through her back and pelvis again.
You can’t do this.
“God damn it,” she cursed, punching the steering wheel.
Taking a deep breath, she looked ahead and drove down the driveway as it twisted and turned toward the cul-de-sac. As she reached the pillars at the end of her driveway, lightning struck her again, making her cry out.
You can’t do this.
As the agony faded, Nancy laid her head on the steering wheel and wiped her tears away. There was no way she could make it to the hospital like this. She needed help. Putting the car in park, she fished her phone out from her purse.
The world paused when she flipped the phone open, saw it displayed the ASSHOLE contact. She swallowed, staring at the number for a moment before another contraction hit, making her drop the phone.
She screamed through the pain and leaned forward, trying to reach the phone. With labored breathing, clenched teeth, and her face against the steering wheel, Nancy got her fingers around it. Phone in hand, she exhaled but couldn’t sit up without pushing against the console with her free hand.
She fell back against the seat, which eased a bit of the pain and allowed her to focus. She couldn’t do this alone. She had to get help. Nancy raised the phone to her ear and called.