What's Got Into Lena - Chapter 1

"What in hell are you doing up there?' Jim yelled at his wife, who was standing atop the stove with one foot and reaching for a step ladder with the other.

"Damn it, Jim. You scared me witless," Lena snapped, grabbing for the top of the ladder just in time, swinging her other leg over to the
rungs. Her belly, large with child, pressed against the ladder, and she held on.

"Get down from there. Get down now."

"I will as soon as I clean these windows" Lena said.

"I said now." Jim walked over and lifted her off the ladder, arms around her upper legs for he could barely reach around her middle now.

"Put me down. Shit fire," Lena said, trying to hit Jim with her elbows as he lowered her to the linoleum-covered floor.

Jim held Lena's arms to her sides, leaned down and spoke softly to her.

"Listen to me, Lena. Are you that crazy? Everyone along the creek knows you've done your damned best to kill our baby. When are you going to stop? When you're both dead? Or will I lose my baby and then see my wife hauled off to jail?" What happens to me and the boys then?"

"Well the little bastard wouldn't die, would it? And, frankly, I don't give a damn what happens to you and the boys. I am sick and tired of you and your babies? Get your hands off me!"

Backing up, Jim said "It's not a bastard, and I wonder if it will be afflicted when it's born. God only knows how much poison you fed it or how many pokes with the coat hanger you gave it. Why do you hate it so much? Or is it just me you hate?" Jim looked hurt, shook his head and walked out of the room. His long, lean frame seemed shrunken a bit, his sandy colored hair a bit lifeless, his green eyes dimmed. He frankly looked defeated. He worried about Lena, about the baby on the way, about his two boys, only four and three years old. He didn't know how to make Lena happy anymore. Maybe he never did, he thought. He mumbled in a low husky voice, "I need a goddamned drink."

Lena's little hands trembled, and she made them into fists and beat on her belly as hard as she could, scrunching up her usually-beautiful face into a hideous mask. "Why couldn't you just die. I do not want you. Do you hear me?" Looking toward where Jim was walking, she screamed "you always need a goddamned drink, you alky," knowing that he was no alcoholic and just
wanting to irritate the joy out of him because she was so irritable herself. Lena believed in shared misery.

Suddenly, she stopped her yelling. She held her head much as Lucky, her scrawny cocker spaniel dog, would do when he heard or smelled something unusual on the wind. She listened and heard an engine being turned off. Yes, she thought, Mr. Snoop has come to call. She pushed the ladder together quickly and slid it behind the stove and sat down just as her father opened the door.

"Daughter.' Big John said.

"Hi, Daddy."

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