Chapter 1
The electricity had been out all day, and Sigrid was freezing. She hated the cold, bitter winters of Chicago, and this ratty apartment didn’t help. The wind blew through the windows. “I might as well leave them open,” she thought to herself. She got up off the old, stained green couch that they had found in the hallway a few months ago.
“Hey, it’s free!” Wilbert had said.
“It’s horrible,” Sigrid said, walking around it, “and gross. I mean, what are those stains?”
“C’mon, help me.” Wilbert started to push the couch, but it was from the 1970s and very heavy. Sigrid stood with her arms folded.
“No way,” she shook her head. “That thing is disgusting.”
“It’s better than the couch we have now!” Wilbert exclaimed, rolling his eyes, and throwing his long slender arms into the air.
Sigrid looked at the couch, and at Wilbert. Rolling her eyes, she sighed, and bent down to help Wilbert move the couch. Once in a while he was right. This would be better than the couch they had in the apartment. There was no couch. All they had were two folding chairs that wrecked her back, a folding card table for eating, and a couple of bar stools that were falling apart. They would laugh each time they sat on them and heard the ping of another screw dropping down.
The folding chairs in the living room doubled as dining room chairs, and also makeshift tables to stack the endless magazines that Sigrid read, from cover to cover. She filled her eyes and mind with a wide variety of topics, from celebrity marriages, and the inevitable divorce, to current political news and current events. She got the magazines for free from the library that she frequented often. Of course, they were always old issues, at least a week and sometimes more, but it didn’t matter to Sigrid. She loved to fill her mind with the world outside of her dank existence in one of the worst neighborhoods in Chicago.
When she wasn’t busy looking for work, actually working, or recovering from a hard day of work, Sigrid could be found reading one of her magazines. With the current furnishings of the apartment, that meant either lying on the ripped mattress that Wilbert and she shared, propping her back against the living room wall, with the one pillow that she used for sleeping. She had long given up trying to read in the folding chair. The thought of a couch to curl up on, while escaping to a different world than the one she currently occupied, made Sigrid smile.
They pushed and pulled the couch, maneuvering it down the hallway, and around the corner. At one point, they stopped to rest, and Wilbert wiped his forehead which was full of sweat. “This thing must weigh a ton!”
“Do you think it will fit through the door?” Sigrid pondered, looking at the massive size of the thing.
“Well, of course it will, stupid.” Wilbert laughed at her, like he often did. Not with Sigrid, but at her. “How do you think it got in the hallway? All these apartments are the same. If it got into the hallway, that means it got through someone’s doorway. I’m thinking that their door is the same size as ours.” He shook his head, tsking loudly.
Sigrid knew he was right again, and that she was being stupid - again. Saying nothing, they stood in the hallway, leaning on the couch, just four apartments away from theirs.
“Let’s go,” Wilbert commanded.
Sigrid did as she was told, and they continued to push the heavy couch, wrangling it into the apartment, and placing it in the center of the living room that doubled as their bedroom. They pushed their mattress from under the window, to the corner. Exhausted, they flopped down on the couch, and laughed.
“Now all we need is a TV stand,” Sigrid cracked.
“And a TV,” Wilbert laughed. He looked over at Sigrid and smiled. Leaning over, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Some day, baby. I’ll get us out of this wreck.”
Sigrid smiled meekly back. She had heard him say that a million times. At first she believed him. When they had first started dating when she was seventeen, he was the coolest guy in the school. Sigrid was flush with pride whenever they held hands as they walked down the hallways of Public School 17, in the Englewood neighborhood. One of the roughest schools in one of the roughest neighborhoods, Sigrid felt safe with Wilbert, who was tall and muscular. He could have been the captain of the football team if he ever showed up for practice.
A naturally talented athlete, Sigrid had fallen in love with his wide shoulders and shoulder length, dark brown hair. He was not just the coolest boy in school, he was the handsomest. He was also one of the most popular, but Sigrid didn’t know that it was because he was also one of the school’s top drug dealers. He even sold to teachers and administrators, who thought his weed was the best. She couldn’t have known that the only reason he even managed to graduate was because of his entrepreneurial skills.
Sitting on The Beast, as they all had nicknamed the couch, Sigrid shivered. She got up and pulled the blanket off of the bed, and curled back up on the couch. It was her twentieth birthday, and she wasn’t even sure if anyone knew or cared. Her mother would be due back from work soon, and Sigrid could count on few things when it came to her mother. She could count on being told what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. She could also count on her mother making Sigrid feel guilty for being alive. “I curse the day I decided to keep you,” she would say at Sigrid, when she was tired, angry or both - which happened often. She could also count on her mother looking at her and shaking her head.
“You, and your magazines,” she would say, under her breath, as she walked by Sigrid.
In some ways, Sigrid got it. Her mom was an immigrant, and single mother. She worked hard, and had to commute for more than an hour each way. Betty, Sigrid’s mother, took two buses from their grey, violent neighborhood, to one of the most pristine and wealthiest areas of the city, to clean house and run chores for the Lincoln Park neighborhood family. Her employers loved her, and treated her kindly, but she hated the work, and she hated the commute. She hated her life, and Betty made sure everyone, except her employers, knew it. She was smart enough to keep that bottled up.
Sigrid had attended classes that morning at the local commuter college, Englewood Commons. There is where she felt special and valued. Her algebra teacher, Miss Marcus, had carried on and on about how well Sigrid had been learning. “I know you hate math, but I’m telling you, you’re good at it. Don’t let any old teacher who told you you couldn’t do this, because you can. You’re one of the smartest students I’ve ever had here, and that’s really saying something.” Miss Marcus took her hand, and smiled warmly. “Hang in there, Sigrid.”
Sigrid smiled when she thought of Miss Marcus, and her shivering stopped briefly. But then her eyes fell on the plastic grocery bag on the living/dining room chair. The chair was holding side table duty today, with that bag and a copy of Entertainment Weekly, which was now a monthly for some reason. She avoided looking at the bag, but kept coming back to it. “Some birthday,” she said as she got up and walked into the bathroom, taking the bag with her.
The last time she had had her period was six weeks ago, and that was strange. Normally Sigrid could almost set her clock to when her period would arrive. Exactly 27 days after the last one, she could count on it. So, when it didn’t come on the 28th day, or the 29th, Sigrid was immediately worried.
“Please?” she had begged Wilbert. She was holding the condom in her hand, as he was just about to enter her.
“Didn’t you take your pill?” he groaned, pulling her closer.
“No, I ran out. I haven’t taken it for a week,” she replied, “please, just put this on.”
“It’ll be fine. I’m sure those hormones, or whatever that pill does, is still in you,” he said as he thrust himself inside her.
That was just like Wilbert. He could go from sweet and sexy to mad and mean. She tried to avoid bringing out the mad Wilbert, so when he was inside of her, she stayed quiet, letting him finish inside of her. When he pulled out, he rolled over onto his back, and groaned, “It’ll be fine…” before snoring off to sleep.
Sigrid had tried to avoid what her mother had gone through. Giving birth to her when she was just sixteen. It wasn’t easy to get the prescription for the pill, and sometimes between school and her odd jobs, she wouldn’t be able to pick them up without lapsing in taking the pill. Most of the time, Wilbert would put on the condom, even if he sighed and rolled his eyes. He didn’t want a baby either. They were both only nineteen, after all. But, once in a while, like that night, he would refuse. So far they had been lucky.
As Wilbert slept, Sigrid quietly crept off the mattress, and went into the bathroom. Maybe if she peed right after, that would flush anything out. She knew better, of course. She said a silent prayer that she wouldn’t get pregnant. “Please God, no.”
Sitting on that same toilet again, Sigrid repeated her prayer. “Please God, no,” as she opened the pregnancy test that she had picked up on the way home from her class. Reading the directions carefully, she took the plastic cap off of the stick. Her nervousness made it hard to pee, but she was eventually able to get enough on the testing tip. She put the cap on the test, and placed it on the floor. Wiping herself, and standing up to flush the toilet, she suddenly felt incredibly sad and alone.
Even though she lived with two people who, she was pretty sure, loved her in their own way, she felt completely alone sometimes, navigating her difficult world. She had promised herself that she would be like her mother, and have a baby too young. She had also promised herself that she would never be a maid, like her mother. “You’re too smart for that,” her teachers would tell her, whenever Sigrid would express her fears for the future. But, Sigrid knew better. She knew she might have been book smart, but everything in her life indicated that she was stupid, just like Wilbert would tell her.
“Hey babe,” Wilbert said, leaning down to kiss her. She was still shivering on the couch. “Electricity still out? Didn’t we pay the bill?”
“We paid the bill. The whole building is out. Supposedly they’ll get it going this afternoon.”
“Shit. It’s already four o’clock. Once the sun goes down in a half hour, it’s going to get really cold in here.” He kicked his boots off, and sat down on the couch next to her, opening a beer. Sigrid looked over at him, and his half-drunk six pack. “Damn, I hate this dump! I’m going to get us out of here, you’ll see,” Wilbert exclaimed as he slugged back his Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.
Wilbert hated his job. He remembers telling his cousin how much he disliked working at the hotdog stand, being nice to the nasty customers. “Cuz, I’m so sorry you hate your job…” his cousin responded to another of Wilbert’s endless complaints about his life. “And, I’m so sorry you don’t like your life,” the cousin continued. “You know...there’s a support group for that. It’s called, EVERYONE!”
They both cracked up, as the cousin continued, “They meet weekly, on Fridays, at the bar!” He could hardly say the punchline that Wilbert had heard a million times, but that still made him laugh.
“Right on. Right on. I get it. Sign me up,” Wilbert always replied. He smiled as he remembered the last exchange that he had had with his cousin, as he took another slug of beer. Absent-mindedly, he reached over to rub Sigrid’s feet.
“Damn, your feet are freezing!” he exclaimed. He finished his beer, and popped open the next of his nightly six-pack. He gulped it down in less than a minute, and let out a loud belch, cracking open the next beer. With his blurry eyes, he looked over at Sigrid, who was sitting silently on the couch, her knees curled up to her chin. Tears were streaming down her reddened face.
“I’m pregnant,” she said softly.
“What?” Wilbert slurred.
“I’m pregnant,” this time more loudly.
“Ah, bitch. Don’t mess around with me. You’re messing with me.” Wilbert stood up, but lost his balance, and grabbed on to the back of the couch.
“I’m not messing with you, Wilbert. I’m pregnant.” Sigrid started to cry, partly from anger and the other part from fear and sadness.
“Well, how do you know it’s mine?” He said, swaying and trying to hold himself steady.
“Excuse me? Seriously?” Sigrid cried.
“I saw how you were looking at that guy the other day. The one at the hardware store.” Wilbert raised his voice, gulped down the rest of the fifth beer, and crushed the can, tossing it onto the mattress on the floor. “You’re a slut. Just like your mother.”
Sigrid stood up and threw the blanket on the floor. “You’re seriously accusing me of cheating on you? Really? I’m not the one who cheats…”
Wilbert slapped Sigrid, so hard that she fell back down onto the couch. Holding her reddened cheek, she cried louder. She had gone too far, she knew. She needed to keep him calm. “Baby,” she cried, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
“If...if...if you’re pregnant, you need to get rid of that baby. I don’t care whose it is.”
“I’m not going to get an abortion, Wilbert,” she said, in between her tears.
“Yes, you are!” He said, punching his fist into the wall, leaving another hole. He put his jacket backet on, and opened his last beer, stumbling out the door and slamming it behind him. In the hallway, she could hear him yelling and screaming. “That’s not my baby! That bitch! You’re a slut, Sigrid! You know that?!”
Sigrid sat stunned on the couch. She curled up into a fetal position, and cried until the cushion, with its new stains and smelling of beer, became wet with her tears. “You’re smarter than that,” her teachers kept trying to tell her. But she didn’t believe it. Here she was, pregnant, feeling more alone than ever, and living in her mother’s dumpy apartment.
She started to rock back and forth, trying to remember a time when her mother embraced her and told that she loved her. It had been years. Before her mother became the angry woman who merely tolerated her daughter, and her daughter’s boyfriend. Sigrid smiled briefly at the memory of running into her mother’s arms after an elementary school recital. The smile quickly replaced by tears as she looked around at her life in the Englewood apartment.
“Stupid. I’m so stupid.”
