Gemini Joe
“Where is he?” Florence screamed as the labor pains became more intense.
As usual, her husband was out drinking, gambling and chasing women. She did not intend to have another baby after eight years, but her obsession to keep him in their own bed put her at risk. At first she thought having another baby was a blessing and believed it would bring the family closer together, but the last three months of the pregnancy kept only her in their bed.
“How can he leave me alone to have his bastard by myself?” she yelled in a fit of pain. No one was home except her ten-year-old daughter. There was no time to go to the hospital. Florence would have to give birth at home. Her daughter Dolly’s young eyes were as big as saucers, but she did her best to follow her mother’s instructions, bringing clean sheets and hot water to her bedside. The labor was hard and Florence cursed her unborn baby with every painful push. After a scream that made Dolly cover her ears, the baby appeared.
“Go in the kitchen and get the knife with the white handle,” Florence told her daughter.
Dolly stood frozen, staring down at her mother and the pool of blood surrounding the baby.
“Go now!” Her mother yelled.
When the young girl returned with the knife, she closed her eyes tightly, thinking her mother was going to kill her new baby brother. Finally, she opened them to see the baby was still alive, swaddled in one of the sheets and lying on her mother’s chest. He had big brown eyes and a head full of brown curls.
“He’s so cute,” Dolly squealed as she gently reached for the baby.
“Can I hold him?”
He quickly won the hearts of his siblings, who treated him like a toy or a pet, playing with him until they tired. There was no way for Dolly to know the novelty would wear off and, in time, she would grow to resent caring for her brother.
The baby boy had already made his entrance into the world by the time his father, Joseph, stumbled through the front door well after midnight. With liquor on his breath, he peered down at his fourth child.
“Joseph the second,” he slurred, and then passed out on the couch.
Before Amanda arrived back home to Macon, she gave Thomas, his thirty-day notice to leave the apartment he rented. Hoping to find an empty house, she pulled up the driveway. Her hopes were dashed when she saw the light of his television flickering through the window. Amanda drove up the steep, dark driveway, past the automatic light and cringed when it turned on; alerting that there was movement outside. She drove into the garage, turned off the car, sat for a moment then popped the trunk to retrieve her luggage. The suitcase was on wheels, but she lifted it so it wouldn’t make noise then slowly walked up the stairs in the dark. She felt for the keyhole on the front door in with her fingers.
Once inside, she locked the dead-bolt and went to the kitchen to fill a glass with water before going to her room. She set her glass on the nightstand and prepared for bed. Suddenly, she heard Thomas cursing and slamming things against the wall. Pictures on the wall bounced as the house shook.
Amanda went back downstairs and searched for a sharp knife. Slowly, she crept back upstairs and sat in the hall with her back against the only door that separated them. When the crashing stopped, the house became silent.
She could hear the floor creek as he walked from room to room. Maybe he’s calmed down she hoped, but remained sitting on the floor, her eyes drooping with exhaustion. Finally she crawled to her room. Placing the knife on the night stand, close enough to reach for it in case she needed to protect herself. Without undressing, Amanda shut the light and climbed into bed. She lay still, prepared to jump up if Thomas continued his tantrum. I’ll evict him tomorrow, she decided.
At three-fifteen in the morning, eyes closed, Amanda reached for the glass of water to the left of her bed; nothing. It took a moment before she realized she wasn’t in Delray, she was back in Georgia. Her water was on the headboard above her. It unnerved her that she didn’t know where she was half the time. Both places were lonely in the middle of the night.
