Janet

He put his fingers into the circular holes and rotated the disk again. An ‘8’ and a ‘4’ were the most rubbed out of the group. The phones in this type of cafe were always greasier than ones on the street. Just look at their menu in here. They’ve got something fried on every third line of the menu.

“Damn it,” Viktor threw the phone at the hanger.

“Aye, don’t break anything.” The barman looked at him, with a cloth half-inside the glass, “You break. You pay.”

“There’s nothing to break. It’s not working.”

He walked past the pool tables and placed his hands onto the bar counter.

“Can you lend me your car, please?”

“Pff, I don’t know you, man. Do you really think I would trust you? What you said it was again?”

“My wife. She’s giving birth. My car is right here, just around that corner.” He threw the keys out of his jacket pocket on the table. “Take them while I’m away.”

The barman picked up the keys by the pink feather that hung from them on the circle.

“It’s her car.”

He nodded.

“New Toyota Corolla. I promise I’m a good guy; I just need to find a way out of here.”

“I’m not taking the keys. Sorry, man. Not buying it. You can run to Filmore, maybe he’s working today. He will help you out if you can match his pricing.”

“Who’s Filmore?”

“He runs a firm in here. Well,” He spat into the sink and ran the cloth through his front teeth, “Hard to call it a firm, just a house and a couple of tow trucks he and his boys run. But again, the weather is a bit crazy now, so he will charge triple to get your car out.”

“Where is he?”

“Bout half a mile from here. Run and might make it under five minutes.”

Viktor opened the door and began running. If that’s what you could call running. A man could do all sorts of things when he’s got motivation. He stayed closer to the emergency lane. Looking to the left, you could see the city, and somewhere down in it, in the hospital on Bakerwitch 98, on the crossroad between Ikea and some scrappy grocery store was a hospital. That’s where they took her, as her mother told him on the phone. No cars came towards Viktor. No cars came from behind Viktor. No car would be in here during such a blizzard. Viktor covered his face from the left and kept on moving. Slipping, falling, but moving. A little roadside hut loomed from the left. A couple of tow trucks filled an already small parking lot at the rest area. Dimmed yellow light seeped through the hut’s windows. Viktor slipped once again.

“Fucking hell.”

He stood up. Now limping. He knocked on the door. The door opened.

“Dude, what are you doing out there?”

“I need your help.”

He scratched his head.

“Haven’t heard that in a while.”

“My wife is giving birth, and my car.” Viktor pointed somewhere to the right. “Went off the road in the snow.”

“That tricky curve, huh?”

“What?”

He put his palms together.

“When you drive in there, the road moves like a snake. It’s tight and windy. Probably you got caught in the curve you need to take from the left, and you took it from the right.”

“Why does this even matter? Can you help?”

“Dude, dude, relax.” He placed his hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “I’ve already had three kids, so I get you.”

“If you do, let’s get in the fucking car.”

He grinned.

“Give me a sec. Come to the tow truck, number one. Name Filmore, by the way.”

He extended his hand to Viktor. He shook it.

Viktor looked behind at one of the side mirrors. The white Corolla was trailing behind. The rear bumper caught scrapes against the asphalt each time Filmore maneuvered around the holes in the road. Those, he assured Viktor, were the main cause of all the accidents down here.

“We aren’t going to lose it on the road, are we?”

He chuckled.

“Dude, that is irrelevant. Cars can be bought and repaired.”

“So, we might?”

He lifted his eyebrow, “Yeah.”

The Toyota swung from left to right. The road coiled back on itself, turn after turn. Let one wheel go off the shoulder, or even worse, off the cliff, then the next call Viktor would make wouldn’t be to his wife, but to insurance.

“What are you even doing up here, dude?”

“I work at the hotel on the top.”

“Shit. Does anybody even go in there to that place?” He snapped the baseball hat back.

“Not really. People would rather go to Switzerland nowadays.”

“Frankly, dude, I would too.” He adjusted the hat.

“Maybe keep both hands on the steering wheel. So, we don’t end up in one of your tricky curves.”

He took the hat off.

“Bend the brim for me, man. My son just got it. I didn’t get around to doing it.”

Viktor looked up.

“You serious?”

“I mean you sitting there with nothing in your hands, aren’t you?” He winked.

“My wife’s giving birth, and that’s what–”

“Exactly, man. She’s giving birth. She’s doing something. Come on,” He extended the hat while steering the wheel with his knees. “I promise to hold the wheel with both hands.”

Viktor snatched the hat and dropped it between his thighs.

“I’ve never done it.”

“You will do just fine, champ.” He yawned. “So, is it a boy, or a girl?”

“We don’t know.” Viktor grabbed the corners of the hat and pressed from both ends.

“Dude, how? I knew from like I don’t know…almost the beginning.”

“We didn’t want to go to the doctor. Do all the checks. Each visit to the hospital stressed Elizabeth more. That’s precisely why I must be there.”

He hummed back.

“Why did you go to work then?”

“Somebody has to. We’ve got the phone in the hotel, I always stay in touch with her for these types of things, but today was different. I called her around the usual time, but her mom picked up, named the street, and the line got cut off. I haven’t heard from them since noon, I think,” Viktor looked down at the hat he held, “And we had this argument also the other day about the work stuff. She asked me a week back to stay with her. Saying it might come one day or another. And I didn’t.”

“Wanna know what I think?”

Wind wobbled the car side to side. Both cars, to be precise. Filmore pressed the brakes harder. Or at least the noise under both sounded harder now.

“Is that supposed to sound like this?” Viktor asked.

The snow crunch behind was indistinguishable from the scraping of the rear bumper.

“Yeah, yeah. Brakes are just overheating. You done with the hat?”

“There you go.” Viktor placed the hat on Filmore’s head and looked up. “So, what do you think?”

They were much lower already. Now you could’ve seen farther than a hundred metres ahead.

“I think, dude. You tried to do a good thing, but it sorta comes with a sacrifice.”

“But another check, no matter the size, wouldn’t be an excuse for me not being there, and also this…fucking storm.”

“Don’t blame the weather, dude. Weather has nothing to do with it.”

“How? If not the weather, I would already be there.”

“No, no. If not you going to work, you would already be there.”

Viktor huffed. “You think I fucked up?”

“I don’t know, dude. I ain’t no relationship expert, but you look like you care.”

“I do.”

“Then, you should have no guilt.”

Filmore made a last sharp turn, and the city’s skyscrapers looked at them.

“Where you said it was?”

Viktor pulled out a paper note out of his pocket.

“Bakerwitch 98.”

Filmore nodded and pressed the gas.

“Now we could go faster, champ. Don’t worry, soon you will get to your Cinderella.”

He laughed. Viktor did too. Less loudly, but he laughed.

Snow filled the streets even down here. Kids threw snowballs at their friends, glided from the icy hill, and some even went ice skating at the park’s lake.

“Never seen anybody ice skate down there.”

“Dude, ice is ice. Oh, shit.”

Filmore’s tow truck took an exit from the motorway, right into the traffic jam.

“No. Fuck.”

Viktor dragged the skin above his eyebrow and bit the edge of his hand.

“Dude, where is everyone going?”

“Why now? Why now? This road is never this full. Literally never.”

“I know, dude.”

Viktor started rolling down the window and pushed his body through it.

“EVERYONE PLEASE HELP ME. MY WIFE’S GIVING BIRTH. PLEASE HELP. I’M IN A RUSH.”

“Oh, that’s what we’re doing.”

Filmore started honking and turned on the amber lights. The cars began turning left and right, forming a way through in the middle.

“Thank you. Thank you, everyone.”

Filmore looked into the side mirror.

“Car’s too much load, dude. Jam is too thick even now.”

“Drop it.”

“Where?”

“Hard shoulder.”

“You crazy, dude.”

Filmore pulled off with honking towards the shoulder and stepped out of the vehicle. Viktor peeked at him unloading the car but didn’t hear anything except the heavy metallic clunk and the rear bumper hitting against the asphalt. Now, as a separate part of the car.

“Dude,” He opened the door, “You lost the bumper.”

“SIT IN THE FUCKING CAR.”

Filmore jumped in and merged onto the lane. Honking, as Viktor kept on screaming out of the window.

“Some guys won’t let us pass. I will go outside and knock on their windows.”

“They’re gonna be pissed, dude.”

“Oh, I bet.”

Viktor stepped out of the vehicle and started passing through the cars, knocking with his fingers against the windows. Nobody dared to step out and challenge him. There were a couple of shouts behind him, though, until the nearest driver explained the situation.

“This guy is something else,” Filmore said.

The hospital was in front of them, just as described between Ikea and some scrappy grocery store. Wasn’t that scrappy, to be frank.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Filmore.”

“Go, champ. Go help your Cinderella.”

Filmore kept an eye on him, making sure Viktor got inside without slipping or tripping again into the snow. Could’ve happened, right?

***

Viktor took the first left out of the Labour and Delivery Hall wearing a hairnet, paper booties and a full surgical gown.

“You can drop that there in the basket, sir.”

The lady from the lobby spoke without even lifting her head from the computer.

“Thanks.”

He walked towards the lobby and the waiting room. The sun was already down. It was around ten, maybe eleven at night. Viktor walked over to the coffee machine, picked up the cup and pressed ‘ESPRESSO’. He turned back to the waiting area, in the left corner, Filmore sat there with his baseball hat covering his face. Viktor picked up a cup and walked towards him.

“Filmore?”

He gave him a light shake.

“Filmore.”

Filmore shot up. Eyes blinking fast. The hat fell on the floor. Viktor picked it up.

“What are you still doing in here?”

“The car, dude. We have to pick it up.”

“Right.” Viktor sat down next to him.

“You good?”

He took a sip of his espresso.

“It’s a girl. Janet.”

He looked into Filmore’s face and smiled.