1The bid was over. I had won. A mixed lot of newborn clothes, supplies and toys were now mine pending the payment of exactly $49.95: a strange amount for the opening bid. Only one other person in the country has been "watching" the auction and, though I had waited until the last 5 seconds to place my bid, the silent watcher never even made an attempt. The afterglow of a successful auction was short lived as a sharp nudge from my growing belly reminded me of the time.
After a quick click of the mouse to secure payment of my prize, I gathered my things and swept out the door to battle the already growing traffic on my way to work.
...
The silent watcher made no move to finalize her max bid, oblivious to the seconds melting away. Her eyes were glued to the television and the unsteady and shuddering camera work that made following the chase so difficult. The police were in pursuit but their ability to dodge and juke through traffic couldn't compare to the skills of the van they followed. One by one the police cars fell back to avoid endangering the innocent runaway van picked its way perilously between cars before careening off the shoulder and taking to the quieter streets.
Wringing her hands against the folded laundry on her lap, she fought the urge to call her husband, no doubt in one of the police cars weaving haphazardly through traffic.
...
The radio echoed incessantly at the foot of the bed, muffled against discarded clothes and tossed sheets. The sweat between her breasts cooled under the fan as she lay on her back and watched him dress. The uniform was her weakness and he was only too willing to play into her fantasies.
By now the sirens were threading through the quiet streets of the neighborhood and pierced the tense stillness of the room. With a harried glance back toward the bed, he produced a folded one-hundred dollar bill from his pants pocket and placed it on the corner of the dresser before leaving.
Reaching to her side, the woman nudged aside the pillow to produce a small camera, the red light burning brilliantly in the ebbing light.
...
In an effort to avoid the traffic I cut through a neighborhood that promised to put me back out closer to work. The route was much slower with half a dozen stop signs but anything was better than the stop and go headache behind me. As I approached the first four-way stop a cop car rolled leisurely through its stop sign without so much as a tap on its breaks. Appalled, I scoffed and continued through the intersection, unaware of the van until it was too late to react.
...
The tiny child's casket was thrown to either side of the van, only the lock on the lid keeping the precious stillborn tucked safely in the crepe and satin. The driver's skull shattered the windshield as the body was launched from its seat and dragged beneath the van as it lurched across a yard and crashed into a garage.
Everything fell silent for a moment, the dust and wreckage suspended, until the water heater erupted and swallowed the van, garage and house in an intense blaze.
...
The cop had already rounded a corner, unperturbed by the events behind him. His attention was held solely by the phone in his hand and the familiar footage of a familiar bedroom and a familiar red head. A single text message followed: 'YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ROSE.'
...
A single thin tendril of smoke writhed against the horizon as she waited among the flush head stones. It had been less than a week since she was released from the hospital and she was still extremely sore and tired. The barren expanse of the county cemetery chilled her. There was an underlying odor that seemed to stain her clothes and even her flesh as it wafted over her. For $49.95 this would be where her child was laid to rest.
Everyone who needed to be there was patiently waiting: some of the nursing staff from the hospital, a group of social workers, and the local funeral home staff who volunteered their time and resources. The clergyman began to ask of the father when one of the social workers stepped quickly to his side to silence him.
After what seemed like an eternity waiting among the dead and restless, a social worker stepped forward to place a single hand over her shoulder, "Rose, there seems to have been an accident."