7

I'm pregnant. I know it. There are a few symptoms to back up my maternal instinct; the morning sickness, the two missed monthly's, etc. However, I know it regardless of all of that. I'm not sure how to describe or explain this instinct, this distinct assurance, but I'm positive I have life growing inside of me. An entire person, developing beneath and behind my navel. I don't know if I'm ecstatic and excited or scared beyond my wits... maybe all of the above. I also don't know who it belongs to. I've been with Billy near 5 months now, but have had my uncle's unwanted company as well during that time. When I think of Billy as the father, a smile appears; when I think of The Beast impregnating me with his dark seed, well I simply feel suicidal. Sixteen and with child, just as my mother was. Is this how she felt? Confused, excited, frightened? I feel as close to her now as I did before her death. Father incestuous or not, I am happy for my new found connection with my mother.

I haven't started to show, that I am grateful for. I know neither The Beast, nor Billy will notice until I inform them. Men just aren't aware of such things until they are told or it's painfully obvious. What shall I do? I think I will hide it and push Billy to take me away. I have no other choice. I'd rather die than stay here to let my child be raised in the same disturbing environment that I was. I will hide it yes, I will survive and make it off of this monstrous farm to start a new life. What other choice do I have?

* * *

I've been listening to the 'Miracle' everyday. So many songs travel through my ears and seem to take over my mind throughout the day. It seems impossible the rate I fall in love with a song or singer for the few minutes the trance of notes last... and my heart is all too ready to fall in love with the next one as soon as it has finished. My favorite singers have become Gene Austin, Louis Armstrong and of course George Olson. Their voices simply erase my depressing rural surroundings and replace them with scenes of Jazz lounges, stages and dancers. My favorite songs are 'Five foot two, eyes of blue', 'Muskrat ramble', and the pick of the litter, my current obsession, 'Always'.

Days may not be fair, always

That's when I'll be there, always

Not for just an hour

Not for just a day

Not for just a year

But always

How I adore these songs, these artists, but more importantly these words. I used to find my solace simply in daytime, a time that wasn't night and that wasn't shame. During the rise of the sun I found comfort and completion. But now... now I crave this mesmerizing music and these transcendental words. It consumes my life. I wake after my nights, hardly noticing their cruelty anymore, and quickly switch on the 'Miracle' and start my day's chores. I actually enjoy the day's now, I don't just get through them. I enjoy them as I sing along with sweet George and Gene. How I wish to be them, how I wish and imagine I am them. Since I know all the words now to these songs I picture myself on stage singing to the world. I make sure Billy knows my appreciation, every time I see him.

I sit and wait in our broken down shack. I no longer bring a book, I simply sing. I sing in this rotted room as if it were my stage and rehearse in here as if my next show were in New York or Chicago. He often comes up silently so as to watch my amateur performances. He treats me as if I were a professional through his applause. He twirls me and kisses me. Once in awhile he picks me wildflowers growing from the field, then gives them to me as if I were a star. I still don't tell him my burden, my secret of the womb, even though he's always so sweet. Sometimes men aren't as sweet when they find out news like this. Maybe those sweet eyes will turn angry when he hears we have company coming. So I accept his wildflowers for my silly performance and kiss him deeply with gratitude.

'Well my sweet, that was quite a kiss. What gives?'

'How's that?' I respond.

'You've been awful lovey the past couple weeks... what's that about? You ain't falling for a fella is you dollface?'

'No doll,' I exaggerate his voice, 'I ain'ts fallin for ya.'

'Ah see now I was hoping for a different answer.'

'Don't tease.' I mean it.

'Honest,' he furthered, 'I know I said nothing could come of it before, but maybe a fella could change his mind once in awhile. Maybe we oughta take you outta here for keeps.'

'Ah you mean it Billy!?!' Excitement overtook me and I thought I'd give birth on the spot, 6 months early. Obviously I wasn't, but I was jumping up and down anyhow. I stopped dead in my tracks as a thought struck me.

'You're not tricking me with another radio like last time are you?'

He laughed like a wolf, howling at his new found prey.

'No dollface, no foolin ya. I figure if you make it look like a runaway a long time coming in the middle of the week or something, then you could hide out here or close by somewhere til I come for the pick up in the weekend. I says how sorry I am for your seemingly random disappearance, we leave and pick you up on the way out, never having to see this dreadful place again. That way you can ditch this pathetic farm and we can still stay partners with your depraved uncle. What do you think?'

Just as he finished, I thought I heard a twig snap accompanied by heavy breathing. We stop and stare at each other, we both heard it. I hold my breath for a few seconds, he does as well. Neither of us hear anything else suspicious so he kisses me, I embrace him and we say goodbye until next week. Next week... to think, he doesn't even know about the baby and he still wants to take me. Maybe he does love me, maybe not. All I know is I'm finally going to leave The Beast, his dick and his farm behind.