there were no tools in his trunk. He felt the thing, an old ballpoint pen. His mouth was parched.
And I really have to pee, she said.
That’s just nerves, he said. His own guts were wheeling. But it calmed him somewhat, being the one in control like this, consoler and protector.
What’s that?
A car revved past, humping out a heavy rap number, the octave dropping as it receded, as if in sadness or fatigue. Justin realized that he’d shouted—both of them had shouted for help, though at the last moment somehow he had tightened the syllable to Hey .
You forgot your cell, didn’t you? she whispered.
There’ll be more cars.
They can’t hear us, Justin. You always forget your cell! I knew it.
People’ll be going by.
Not till the morning. I feel like there isn’t, there won’t be enough air.
Don’t worry, there will.
And I really have to go.
She’d never sounded so much like a small girl. Or girly woman. And sometimes he’d longed for that, for a small, unshielded part of her to give itself over to his chivalry and guardianship. But this went too far. Her stomach (invisible now, though as he jabbed the LED on his watch, 1:22 a.m., he got a subaquatic glimpse of her nestled form)—her stomach had a washboard look, tanned, much harder and stronger than his own. She was crying, whimpers mixed with convulsive little intakes of breath, like a child post-tantrum. Finding her hands he held them close between their chests. The trunk seemed to be rocking slightly as if from the adrenaline thump of his pulse, their hearts together. Spending the night together after all. He’d studied murky ultrasound images of curled fetuses, and one time twins—soon to be FAS siblings—the victims of ignorant, careless or despairing parents. Entombed in their toxic primordial sea, the two had seemed to be holding each other in a consoling embrace.
Help, help, she was calling weakly.
Another car passed, slower. Again he yelled involuntarily, aware of a swelling node of panic he wascompressing under his heart.
Might have let us go if you said I was claustrophobic.
Okay, Janna. He tried to speak normally. A laryngeal whisper came out. Let me think.
I mean, he won’t want us to die in here! He doesn’t want to go to jail for that!
You’re going to be fine, Jan.
How the fuck do you know if I’m going to be fine! You didn’t even remember I’m claustrophobic!
Janna.
You’re supposed to be a doctor!
I’m not a doctor, you know that. Jesus.
You’re crushing my hands , Justin!
Her whine seemed to split his head. This felt like the most savage hangover—worse than the worst he had undergone in university and grad school, before he met Janna and set his life on a stabler footing. A student of booze, he had been. My years of research, he would quip.
Jesus, Janna, calm down.
Why is no one walking past? Most nights I lie there and it’s, it’s. It’s like an endless parade of people walking past. Yahoos shouting.
Someone will. Don’t worry. We’ll call. I—
I just knew you wouldn’t have your cell. How can we call if—
Shut up! I mean call .
This just fuelled her. She wrung her hands free, panting in the tight space. No, no, you’re not a doctor and it’s lucky. You’ve got no—no—you can never justbe together , can you, Justin? Why can’t you just arrange yourself for once? It makes me crazy! You’re always—
I’m telling you, enough.
Oh, your bedside manner.
Her breaths were shallow, the sour smell filling the trunk.
You’re going to hyperventilate, Janna. That’s the only way you won’t get enough air, if you hyperventilate.
I can’t help it! Get me out of here, Justin!
What are you doing?
Okay. Okay—I’m on my back, I’m pushing up with my feet. You do it too.
Janna—
Like a leg press. I’m strong. It’s an old car.
Ten years isn’t old for a Volvo. This came to him from somewhere—a line from some ad? His father, years ago? She was grunting, doing her press. At the
And I really have to pee, she said.
That’s just nerves, he said. His own guts were wheeling. But it calmed him somewhat, being the one in control like this, consoler and protector.
What’s that?
A car revved past, humping out a heavy rap number, the octave dropping as it receded, as if in sadness or fatigue. Justin realized that he’d shouted—both of them had shouted for help, though at the last moment somehow he had tightened the syllable to Hey .
You forgot your cell, didn’t you? she whispered.
There’ll be more cars.
They can’t hear us, Justin. You always forget your cell! I knew it.
People’ll be going by.
Not till the morning. I feel like there isn’t, there won’t be enough air.
Don’t worry, there will.
And I really have to go.
She’d never sounded so much like a small girl. Or girly woman. And sometimes he’d longed for that, for a small, unshielded part of her to give itself over to his chivalry and guardianship. But this went too far. Her stomach (invisible now, though as he jabbed the LED on his watch, 1:22 a.m., he got a subaquatic glimpse of her nestled form)—her stomach had a washboard look, tanned, much harder and stronger than his own. She was crying, whimpers mixed with convulsive little intakes of breath, like a child post-tantrum. Finding her hands he held them close between their chests. The trunk seemed to be rocking slightly as if from the adrenaline thump of his pulse, their hearts together. Spending the night together after all. He’d studied murky ultrasound images of curled fetuses, and one time twins—soon to be FAS siblings—the victims of ignorant, careless or despairing parents. Entombed in their toxic primordial sea, the two had seemed to be holding each other in a consoling embrace.
Help, help, she was calling weakly.
Another car passed, slower. Again he yelled involuntarily, aware of a swelling node of panic he wascompressing under his heart.
Might have let us go if you said I was claustrophobic.
Okay, Janna. He tried to speak normally. A laryngeal whisper came out. Let me think.
I mean, he won’t want us to die in here! He doesn’t want to go to jail for that!
You’re going to be fine, Jan.
How the fuck do you know if I’m going to be fine! You didn’t even remember I’m claustrophobic!
Janna.
You’re supposed to be a doctor!
I’m not a doctor, you know that. Jesus.
You’re crushing my hands , Justin!
Her whine seemed to split his head. This felt like the most savage hangover—worse than the worst he had undergone in university and grad school, before he met Janna and set his life on a stabler footing. A student of booze, he had been. My years of research, he would quip.
Jesus, Janna, calm down.
Why is no one walking past? Most nights I lie there and it’s, it’s. It’s like an endless parade of people walking past. Yahoos shouting.
Someone will. Don’t worry. We’ll call. I—
I just knew you wouldn’t have your cell. How can we call if—
Shut up! I mean call .
This just fuelled her. She wrung her hands free, panting in the tight space. No, no, you’re not a doctor and it’s lucky. You’ve got no—no—you can never justbe together , can you, Justin? Why can’t you just arrange yourself for once? It makes me crazy! You’re always—
I’m telling you, enough.
Oh, your bedside manner.
Her breaths were shallow, the sour smell filling the trunk.
You’re going to hyperventilate, Janna. That’s the only way you won’t get enough air, if you hyperventilate.
I can’t help it! Get me out of here, Justin!
What are you doing?
Okay. Okay—I’m on my back, I’m pushing up with my feet. You do it too.
Janna—
Like a leg press. I’m strong. It’s an old car.
Ten years isn’t old for a Volvo. This came to him from somewhere—a line from some ad? His father, years ago? She was grunting, doing her press. At the
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