Nineteen

We went to the doctor again today. He said that everything looks great. The pregnancy has lasted longer than we ever expected. The doctor told us today that you are basically full term. He expects the baby to come any day now. We’ve now been in Aztec for as long as we were in Charleston. My past recedes further away into my memory with each passing day. I’m happy to forget most things. Some things, I try to remember, just in case.

You never asked me about what happened the night we ran from Charleston. When I asked you, you told me that nothing happened. You just walked. At times, you thought you heard strange noises but nothing ever happened. I don’t think you liked to talk about it. I think the fact that it had been so easy scared you. I don’t know what I would have told you about how I survived that night even if you did ask me. You never did. I think you’ve finally decided that there are some things you just don’t want to know.

I still try to figure it out sometimes, how I survived, why I survived. I’ve got some theories but none of them really makes sense. Maybe I should chalk it up to divine intervention. Something stepped in and saved me and our son. I should probably follow your lead. Maybe there are some things that I just don’t want to know.