He gave her a long, silent study. “I might consider that.”
“Thank you.” The words wanted to stick in her throat like the food, but she forced them out. “Thank you, Sir.”
“I might consider it,” he repeated, “if you show me the proper respect. Get on your feet.”
She set the paper plate on the table by the bed, rose.
“You take off your clothes and lie down on that bed I gave you. I’m going to take what’s mine by right, and this time you don’t fight me.”
She thought of the chilblains on her hands and feet, the constant cold. He’d rape her regardless. What point was there getting beat up on top of it?
She took off her sweatshirt, the shirt she wore under it. Her heart was too dry for tears now as she took off the socks she’d all but worn out from pacing the concrete floor. She tugged her jeans down, stepped out of the left leg, shoved the rest down to the where the shackle clamped her ankle.
She lay down on the cot, waited for him to strip, waited for him to lay his weight on her, to shove himself inside her, to pant and grunt, grunt and pant.
She thought that was the moment that broke her, when she submitted to rape for a pair of socks.
But when she thought back on that night, after she knew the year had turned, as she bent over the toilet sick and dizzy every morning for a full week, she knew it hadn’t been that moment.
Her breaking point was the moment she knew she carried his child.
She feared telling him; feared not telling him. She thought of suicide, for surely that was the most humane choice for herself and what he’d planted in her.
But she lacked the spine and the means.
Maybe he’d do it for her, Alice thought as she huddled on the cot. When he found out she was pregnant, he’d just beat her to death. And it would be over.
She thought of her mother, her sister, her grandparents, her uncles and aunts and cousins. She thought of the ranch, how it would look like a postcard in the January snow.
They wouldn’t look for her, she reminded herself. She’d locked that door herself, burned that bridge, cut that line.
And they’d never find her in this rat hole.
She wished she could tell them she was sorry she’d lit out the way she had. So angry, so full of herself that she hadn’t cared about how they’d feel. Hadn’t believed they’d care.
She wished she could tell them she’d been coming home.
When she heard the door open, heard the boot steps, she shuddered. Not in fear as much as resignation.
“Get your lazy ass out of that bed and eat.”
“I’m sick.”
“You’ll be more’n sick you don’t do as I say.”
“I need a doctor.”
He grabbed her by the hair, yanked her up. Screaming, she covered her face. “Please, please. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant.”
The grip on her hair tightened as he jerked her face up. “Don’t you try any of your whore tricks on me.”
“I’m pregnant.” She said it calmly now, sure she was facing death. Struggling to be ready for it. “I’ve been sick every morning for six straight days. I haven’t had my period since right after you brought me here. I missed in December, now I’m coming up on when I’m due for January. I lost track of the time until you said it was Christmas. I’m pregnant.”
When he released her hair, she sank back down on the bed.
“Then I’m right pleased.”
“You—what?”
“Something wrong with your hearing, Esther? I’m pleased.”
She stared at him, then just shut her eyes. “You wanted to get me pregnant.”
“We are to go forth and multiply. It’s your purpose on this earth to bear children.”
She lay still, pushed resignation aside, let a splinter of hope through. “I have to see a doctor, Sir.”
“Your body is made for this purpose. Doctors just buffalo people to get rich.”
He wants the baby, she reminded herself. “We want the baby to be healthy. I need prenatal vitamins and good care. If I get sick, the baby inside me gets sick.”
That heat, that mad heat flashed into his eyes. “You think some cheating doctor knows better than me?”
“No. No. I just want what’s best for the baby.”
“I’ll tell you what’s best. You get up and eat what I brought you. We’ll dispense with relations till we’re sure it’s well planted in you.”
* * *
He brought her a little portable heater and an easy chair. He added a small cooler to the room, where he stocked milk, raw fruits, and vegetables. He fed her more meat than before, and made her take a daily vitamin.
When he felt she was healthy enough, the rapes continued, but with less frequency. When he hit her, he kept it to open-hand smacks on her face.