Stork Read online

  She kicked off the island, landed hard in Eddie’s arms. Her lips, slickened by her tongue, pressed against his, and they kissed long and deep. His hands crept down to her ass and cupped it, squeezed; his tongue inched into her mouth, found hers.

  She pulled away, put her hand to her chest. “My goodness.”

  He looked around as if they were criminals conspiring. “I have an idea.”

  Her hand found the bulge in his pants, massaged it. “So do I.”

  In the next moment, she was back on the island, the granite cold against her naked skin. Eddie was on her, in her, and she didn’t care who heard her screams.

  ***

  The movers lugged her dresser through the front hallway, angled it into the bedroom. She smiled and nodded at them as they went back out front for the next load.

  “I feel bad making them do everything,” Suzey said as she unpacked the box labeled Kitchen Stuff. “Maybe we should help out.”

  Eddie wrapped an arm around her. “Shit, for what I’m paying them, they should cook us dinner too.”

  She laughed. “Look at us. Couple of big shots, don’t even have to move our own shit.”

  “That’s right, baby.”

  Eddie directed a large Hispanic man upstairs with the boxes labeled Books. “And I finally have my own office.” He cut the tape wrapped around a shoebox, pulled the pistol out, and struck a pose. “Hey, Suze. Do I look like James Bond when I do this?”

  She gasped. “Put that thing away, idiot. You’re gonna freak the movers out.” A frown contorted her expression. “Thought we decided to get rid of it.”

  “Not until I know we’re safe enough without it.”

  “Ed, we’re in the suburbs here. I don’t think the joggers and dog walkers pose much of a threat to our safety.”

  “Never know, that’s all I’m saying.” He tucked the gun back into the box, set it aside.

  Suzey sighed, shook her head, decided to just let it go. She stacked plates and placed them in the cupboard, then changed her mind and used the one across the kitchen. “I can’t wait to use that track out there. Looks pretty nice.”

  “Mmm hmm, and the pond is pretty too,” he said. “Think I saw one duck floating around in there. You think he drowned all the other ducks? A serial killer duck, that’s what we got.”

  She snorted, slapped him on the arm. “You’re retarded.”

  His hand went crooked and he slapped it against his chest. “Durrr…”

  “Shut up,” she said. “They might hear you.”

  He clicked his tongue and smiled, then wrapped his arm around her lower back, pulled her in for a kiss. “How do you feel, baby?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know.” He pressed his palm against her stomach. “You…okay?”

  She pulled away, started pulling glasses out of another box, her eyebrows curled. “Can we not talk about that right now? Can’t I just enjoy our new home? Shit.”

  A long silence sprinkled with clinking glasses and the shuffling of the movers’ feet as they came and went.

  He’s going to find out sooner or later, and then you’ll lose everything. You’ll be alone, just like you deserve.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He hugged her from behind, leaned his face on the back of her head.

  She spun and kissed him. “Don’t worry about it. Now quit fucking around and help a sister out.”

  They smiled at each other, kissed again, and went back to unloading boxes.

  ***

  “I know the pond in which all the little children lie, waiting till the storks come to take them to their parents,” Grandma said, and turned the page.

  Suzey sat cross-legged on the floor before her, listening to the story she had heard so many times before. Out of all the stork tales, this one scared her the most.

  “There lies in the pond a little dead baby who has dreamed itself to death, said the mother. We will take it to the naughty boy, and he will cry because we have brought him a little dead brother.” Grandma’s eyes slid from the page to Suzey’s face. “You see? Bad people don’t get healthy babies. They get dead babies, or in your case, an empty, soulless shell.”

  Suzey’s backside still hurt from the night before, but she knew what happened after story time. A tear dripped from her eye in anticipation for the lashings. She felt her chest and stomach, flexed her fingers. “But…I don’t feel evil. I just feel…normal.”

  Grandma slammed the book shut, lay it on top of the pile of children’s books beside her. Every one of them about storks. About babies. “Evil would feel normal to you. You wouldn’t know what real normal felt like.” She stood, retrieved her cord from the end table. “Now drop your pants and lift your shirt, child.”

  ***

  Eddie grabbed fistfuls of hair from either side of his head as Suzey bucked on top of him, slamming her groin into his with violent rhythm. Her eyes were all white, pupils rolled to the back of her head, and with each bed-shaking thrust, she bared her teeth and…growled. The growling was new, but Eddie wasn’t going to complain.

  When Eddie would try and flip her over, get her on her hands and knees so he could take her from behind, be the dominant one for a while, she would go rigid, squeeze her vaginal walls like a tightening fist around his cock. Her small hands shoved him in the middle of the chest, clawed and pulled at his chest hairs. A low rattle crackled from her throat as she tossed her head back, tongue circling her lips, hands reaching for the ceiling.

  Eddie just lay back, gripped his wife by the flesh of her hips, and enjoyed the ride.

  ***

  The sound of the shower brought her gasping into consciousness, the hiss and splatter of water mingling with Eddie’s whistling. The sheets were a mangled mess on the bed, and as she collected herself, Suzey realized she was naked.

  Again?

  She scooted backward, winced at the dull ache between her legs. She reached down, touched herself, felt Eddie’s seed coating her.

  You’re the daughter of a whore.

  It had happened countless times before, her mind swirling away to another world while her body did unspeakable things. When she got serious with Eddie, leaving her former life behind her, she hoped it would stop. But here she was, filled with her husband’s ejaculate, with no memory of what they did. She could only hope she had pleased him, and by the tune of his whistle, she supposed she did.

  She couldn’t help but feel violated in some way, though she knew it wasn’t Eddie’s fault. Do I just lay there like some wide-eyed corpse while he ravages my body? she wondered. Or does some other part of me take over…some other consciousness.

  You are the devil’s spawn.

  And how many times have we had sex without any of my knowledge? she thought. Could there be incidents that I’ve never known about? The thought chilled her, embarrassed her. Sure, there were times she could remember, times that she initiated it, but most of the time, she was tossed back into her body after the deed had been done.

  The water cut off and the curtain swooshed open.

  Suzey couldn’t face him, was filled with a thick shame she couldn’t shake off, so she rolled over, back facing the restroom, and pretended to sleep.

  ***

  “Well?” Eddie’s voice was muffled from the other side of the bathroom door.

  Suzey had been pacing, then finally plucked the test from the top of the toilet tank. She didn’t know what she wanted to see. The plus sign had filled her and Eddie with joy so many times before only to disappoint. That plus sign began to signify something else to her, an ominous sign of future heartbreak.

  “Jesus Christ, Suze, please say something.”

  “It’s…uh.” She almost said negative. The tip of her tongue was at the roof of her mouth behind her teeth, but she stopped herself. “It’s positive.”

  “What?”

  “Positive, it’s fucking positive, okay?” She tossed the plastic stick to the trash, sat down on the toilet seat and faced the blank wall. He
r stomach was staticky, and she felt like she may be starting to hyperventilate. The points of her elbows dug into the meat of her thighs as she leaned over.

  “This is great, baby!”

  Silence. The door knob rattled.

  “Suze? What’s the matter?”

  I have no soul. I’m the daughter of a whore who followed in her mother’s footsteps. I’m not a fit mother, and the stork won’t stop bringing me dead babies.

  “Suzey…you’re freaking me out. Let me in.”

  She took one final deep breath, rose from the toilet and opened the door. Before Eddie could squeeze into the restroom with her, she sidestepped past him, went straight for their bedroom where she flopped down on the bed, hid her sorrowful face in the feather pillow.

  The bedsprings squeaked and a hand found the back of her neck, massaged it. “You have nothing to worry about, baby. It’s going to be different this time, I just know it. I can feel it.”

  “Really? You can feel it, huh?” She shook her head. “Bullshit.”

  His hand pulled away from her, the bed squeaked again. “You have to think positively, and I know how stupid that sounds to you. But seriously, I mean it.”

  “So what, I think happy thoughts and this baby won’t die inside of me, is that it?”

  “Either that or we both live in fear. What’s the fucking point of that?”

  She sat up, wiped her face. “I already live in fear, Ed. All the time. I…”

  She almost told him everything then, almost let it come spilling out like hot vomit. The moment she’d met Eddie, the nicest man she’d ever come across, she made the decision right then and there to keep her past a secret. It was something he didn’t need to know, something that would only drive him away from her. But she never expected him to propose to her, didn’t even expect to agree to it. She definitely didn’t expect them to try and have kids.

  She was only a child when she decided to never have children. To stop the curse that her mother had started. Whores having whore children, all empty and soulless.

  As she stared into Eddie’s eyes and he stared back, waiting for her to continue, his hands fumbling with each other as he prepared for her next words, she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell him. As far as he knew, she had no past. He had only asked about her family once, and Suzey had snapped at him, told him to mind his business; he never brought it up again.

  “You’re right…you’re always right,” she said and smiled at him. She held out her arms for him to join her, hold her, and he took the invitation and squeezed her tight. The smell of his musk tingled her sex, and she found herself kissing his neck, extending her tongue and bathing the creases.

  “What are you doing?”

  She flinched. “What do you think I’m doing?” Her hand went to his zipper and pulled.

  He jumped back up. “Are you serious right now?”

  “What’s your problem?”

  He shook his head. “What’s my problem? Jesus Christ, Suzey.” His footsteps were heavy as he stomped toward the bedroom door. “Why don’t you get a hold of yourself, huh? I…I need to go. Somewhere…I’ll be back…later.”

  She shook her head, mouth agape, and tried to find the words to make him stay, to make him explain himself. But nothing came to her, and she could only watch as her husband flung the door open and slammed it behind him, followed by his headlights swooshing into the home through the front windows as he backed out of the driveway and finally disappeared.

  Her hands shook, her brain ached.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  You have no soul, Suzey. You’re the devil’s spawn.

  ***

  Suzey had finished her canned soup, same flavor for the past month: tomato. She hated it, but was given nothing else. Her bare feet tickled on the carpet as she slid down the hall toward the living room where Grandma sat watching the news. The old woman rocked in her chair, sipped coffee with tight lips.

  “G-grandma?”

  The rocking halted and the old woman’s head spun slowly, her eyes hard and animated with the reflections of the television. “What are you doing out of your room?”

  “I’m not tired. The sun’s still out, why do I have to stay in there?”

  “Don’t you talk to me in that tone, you little shit. Get back in there, right now.”

  Suzey nearly crumbled, as always, and did what she was told, but she bit her lower lip, crossed her arms. “No. I don’t want to.”

  With a quick flick of her wrist, Grandma splashed the contents of her coffee cup into Suzey’s face.

  The scalding liquid covered her in agony and she screamed, fell to her knees and wiped at her face, cried and kicked her legs. It felt like she was melting, like the skin was sizzling and dripping away.

  Her breaths rattled out in tiny whisps. She blinked rapidly, her eyelids like open wounds.

  “You don’t talk back to me, you little bitch. The one that feeds you, takes care of you, even though you’re worthless trash like your mother was.”

  Suzey blinked up at the woman as she trudged toward her, kicked her coffee cup out of the way to smash against the wall. Her hand exploded out and slapped the side of Suzey’s wounded face, then another slap on the other side.

  Suzey’s shriek felt like it would tear her throat open and she cried in loud bursts of pain, bent over so her face was covered. “W-why do you h-hate me?”

  “I don’t want you here. But the state says I don’t have a choice about it, so here you are.” A sharp kick to Suzey’s side. “Didn’t want your slut mother either. Girl was given the world and decided to follow the devil anyway. Then she spat you out, and I have to fucking raise you!”

  Suzey could only cover her face and stomach as the flurry of blows rained down on her. She wished she wasn’t evil, wished her mother wasn’t a whore. Wished the stork would have brought her a soul.

  ***

  Eddie stumbled back into the home about an hour later. Suzey still sat on the bed, hadn’t moved since he stormed out. She still couldn’t figure out why he got so upset, but she knew she must have done something. Sweet Eddie, perfect Eddie, would never act out in that way unless it was deserved.

  He nearly tripped into the bedroom, caught himself on the dresser, faced Suzey. The scent of liquor wafted into the room, an indulgence her husband rarely took part in, so she knew she had fucked up bad somehow.

  “Hey,” he said, then pulled his shirt off, kicked off his shoes, sat on the bed beside her. “Baby, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t m-mean—”

  She scooted closer to him. “No, I’m sorry. It was…inappropriate. We had just found out we’re pregnant…don’t know what I was thinking.”

  He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair. “No, it’s not even that. It’s just…I don’t know, you’ve been…you’ve been different lately. I mean, in bed.”

  Oh god, what did I do?

  “In…bed?” She grabbed the comforter, pulled it over herself, stared blankly at the wall.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I love it. I really do, but…I don’t know. You don’t seem like yourself lately.” He chuckled. “Shit, we’d already had sex three times today. And after the test came up positive…I don’t know.”

  Three times?

  Suzey had no recollection of any of that. The last time she remembered actually having sex with him was on the kitchen island before they’d moved in. Now that she thought about it, the day had felt short, but she just figured they were busy unpacking, that time just got away from her. But three times? God, she thought, I have to tell him. He has to know.

  “Eddie? I—” On the tip of her tongue, nothing’s been said yet, still time to turn back, change her mind.

  No…no, it’s time he knew. He deserves honesty.

  After dating for two years and being married for one, she wondered if the information would ruin him, shatter any form of trust he ever had with her. But it was eating her alive, and if she didn’t tell him soon, she felt the weight of it would cru
sh her.

  “What is it?”

  “I, I have to tell you something. About my past. Something I was too scared to tell you before, really too scared to tell you now, but I think it’s time you knew.”

  His eyes darkened and he shifted his weight, but she noticed he didn’t get close to her, didn’t smile or hold her like he usually did.

  “When I was a little girl, before I can even remember…my mother was killed.”

  “Oh, Suze, I—”

  “By her pimp. He shot her in front of me, from what my Grandma said, but I don’t remember that. I had to live with her, my Grandma, and she hated me. Told me I didn’t have a soul because I was the daughter of a whore…said the stork doesn’t bring souls to a whore’s offspring.”

  “Oh, god. Baby—”

  She held up a hand. “Please, Eddie. There’s more…a lot more. I don’t know how else to say this…so I’ll just say it. She beat me, every day, told me the same stories, every day, always about the stork. I couldn’t take it any more after a while, so I ran away. Lived on my own since I was twelve. Ran with a crowd I shouldn’t have, but at the time, they seemed nice, took care of me.” She paused, exhaled, massaged her forehead. “Eddie, I was a prostitute from the age of thirteen until I was about twenty.”

  Saying the words out loud was like spitting out rotten food. The words hung in the air like a cloud of gnats, and she watched them hit Eddie. The man visibly flinched at the word prostitute, then seemed to sink into himself. He wouldn’t look at her. She waited for him to respond, but he had become inanimate, so to avoid further awkwardness, she continued.

  “My grandma always said I would follow in my mother’s footsteps, and she was right. I believed her about everything for so long, still do to some degree. That I’m an evil person, that I have no soul. That’s why whoring was so easy, I told myself. Because I’m not a normal person.”