The Passengers You Cannot See by The Behrg

Author:The Behrg [Behrg, The]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pricks Like Thorn Media
Published: 2020-03-13T04:00:00+00:00

IV.

Sam had lost a ridiculous amount of weight in the past two weeks, leaving barely a hint of her pregnancy. Once that bulge was gone, there would be nothing left to remind her of what she had carried for forty weeks. Of what she had lost.

Tears leaked from her eyes. It was amazing she had any left, but that well never ran dry.

Her stomach shouted at her. They had had many conversations lately, but she couldn’t quiet those pains any longer. She had to go downstairs. A quick PB & J, two minutes, maybe three, then she’d be back in bed. Maybe she’d ask Joel if he wanted one, like when she used to make his lunches for work.

Maybe.

She almost thought of putting makeup on, changing into something a little more presentable. She wiped her running nose with her sleeve. Joel would understand.

She plunged down the stairs, worn out socks practically sliding off each step, threatening to bring her tumbling down.

Let them, she thought, though she made it to the bottom without falling.

The house had a center wall dividing family from living room. Sam chose the living room—fewer steps to the pantry.

Shelves and shelves of processed food. Family had been generous before leaving.

Jar of smooth peanut butter—she hated nuts, though Joel loved them—and bag of bread, and Sam was on the move. Maybe she’d make do without the jam. Keep her from having to go into the kitchen and talk to Joel. Not that she didn’t want to see him, she just . . . sometimes she liked plain sandwiches.

Decision made, she turned back to the dining room when she heard a cry. She froze, mid-step.

Probably just the TV. Joel had it blaring twenty-four, seven. Still, she waited, listening.

It came again—the distinct sound of a baby’s cry.

Sam was through the kitchen and into the family room before the peanut butter and bread hit the floor. She flipped on the lights—Joel was propped against the couch with that hideous blanket, (where had they gotten that thing?), a look of surprise on his face. And yes, guilt.

“Sam!”

“What was that cry?”

Joel took what felt an eternity to decide on an answer, finally pulling the baby monitor from beneath the blanket. “It’s the monitor. It keeps . . . I keep hearing a baby cry. Probably a signal from another monitor. Another house.”

Sam reached out to snatch the monitor from him but Joel pulled back, her nails instead raking across his face. She seized his momentary surprise, grappling the receiver out of his hands.

“Ow! What are you—”

“Why’d you try to hide it?”

“I wasn’t!”

Joel could never lie to her. Not without her knowing.

“I didn’t want you to be reminded,” he said. “I know that’s stupid, but . . . it’s been hard for me. To hear it.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know. Couple hours, days? A week?”

“You should have told me.”

A cooing sound filtered through from the monitor. The baby calming herself.

Her heart fluttered. A flood of tears sprung. She didn’t bother wiping them. Joel hadn’t kept this secret to protect her.

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