Page 42 - WTP Vol. X #7

Eggs of Ill Omen (continued from preceding page)
they say, but Elinor doesn’t say anything else and then it’s quiet for a while before the others start talking again.
There’s a man at the theatre called Ricardo, he’s a big man. He’s an opera singer and he has the stature of an opera singer. Elinor tells him from the beginning that she doesn’t like opera.
He cooks Elinor meals in his flat. It’s always something Asian, something with peaches in it and cinnamon and cloves. Elinor walks around in his flat while he cooks in the kitchen. She walks slowly from bookcase to bookcase, from room to room, everything is red and warm and soft. It doesn’t look like her own flat where everything seems so thin.
Sometimes he sticks his head in and asks if Elinor wants anything, or Elinor goes to the kitchen and sits on a chair while he cooks, and everything steams and bubbles, the windows mist up, they drink dark oily wine and his hands are big and red.
Elinor sometimes spends the night at Ricardo’s, she can lie so close to him. When she wakes up in the morning Ricardo is lying resting on his elbow looking at her, or Ricardo is singing in the kitchen or rehearsing in the music room with other opera singers from the theatre, and they all say hello to Elinor when she walks into the kitchen in Ricardo’s dressing gown, thick red silk. And Elinor smiles at them and hums some tune while she pours coffee into a mug.
~
She knows it already before she takes the test. She has felt the nausea in the morning and she has felt her body change. Elinor counts the weeks, too much time has passed, it’s too late now to have it removed. She lies on her bed, she watches the shadows of trees and people pass over the ceiling in the changing
light from the cars. Elinor can see her mother. She sees her from above as if Elinor was hovering just below the ceiling in her mother’s bedroom. Her mother opens her mouth, she breathes a long, warm, slow breath. It hits Elinor’s face, it’s so warm. Elinor reaches out to the space next to her in bed, but there are no eggs and there is no mother.
She calls the theatre and says she’s sick and won’t be able to come in for the next few days, she hangs up when they start arguing and when the phone rings a few minutes later, she doesn’t pick up.
It’s not hard to get the remedies. She goes to the shops at night, like someone who is not supposed to be seen. Then she lets herself get a good night’s sleep.
It’s a clear, sharp pain. The blood doesn’t stream out of her at first as she thought it would. A thin dark line runs from between her legs and slowly colours the sheets. Then it comes and Elinor gets so tired.
When Elinor wakes up it’s dusk, she turns her head to look at the clock by her bed, she’s been away for hours. She lifts her head and looks down. The bed is full of blood.
She can’t stand up, she crawls from the bedroom to the living room where she falls asleep on the couch.
Knocking on the door wakes her the next day. She looks at the window but she can’t tell what time of the day it is. She hears the knocking again and then she hears Ricardo’s voice, “Elinor, Elinor,” he calls,
he knocks again, then he calls through the letterbox, “Elinor, are you there?” Elinor doesn’t say anything. She holds her breath. Her body has gone all stiff but she doesn’t feel afraid of anything. Then she hears the letterbox close, she hears his steps disappear down the stairs and the front door close. Elinor gets up and walks very slowly to the window. From the window she can see Ricardo crossing the square and disappearing down a side street. Then she changes the sheets on the bed.
Elinor stays in the flat three more days, then she feels well enough to go out. She walks to the theatre and it only takes a few minutes.
~
Ricardo tries to talk to her in the queue in the cafeteria, but Elinor just picks up her tray and goes to sit at a different table, away from the others. They all look at Elinor.
He keeps calling her at home, for weeks he calls and calls. The sound of the phone hits Elinor in the stomach like a sharp pain, it spreads to her throat and stays there, a hurt threatening to suffocate her. When Elinor can’t stand it anymore, she leaves her flat. All night she walks through the streets in the city, lights from cars and busses sweep over her face, music from open doorways, nightclubs and diners, sounds dying away, then sudden groups
of people pushing each other, laughing, shouting, twenty-four-hour vegetable shops, row after row of lemons and oranges, numb. The next day Elinor is
35
~