Chapter Four: Expecting
Riff-Raff sat impatiently in the hospital waiting room. He had registered Magenta under a fake name, saying that she was his wife. It's closer to what we really are than siblings, he thought.
He tried to concentrate on a Newsweek magazine, but he was too anxious. Riff-Raff supposed that Magenta was still feeling ill after the sickness but, as stubborn as she was, she wouldn't admit it.
Finally, a door opened.
"Mr. Dawson?" asked a nurse in hospital scrubs.
"That's me," said Riff-Raff, standing up, rushing over to the woman. "How is she?"
The nurse smiled. "You can see her now, if you would like."
Riff-Raff nodded, and the nurse led him down three separate hallways before they came to the room Magenta was in. It was in the Maternity Ward.
Riff-Raff entered the room. "Are you all right?" he asked.
Magenta nodded, her face stone. Something was not right about the look of fear in her eyes. They were red from tears.
The nurse looked at her forms. 'Well, Mr. Dawson, you should be glad to know that your wife is one-hundred percent healthy. We ran some other tests, however, and it seems that your wife was suffering from complications due to…"
"No," said Magenta. "I want to tell him myself. In private."
Riff-Raff had a strange look on his face.
The nurse shrugged and left the room.
"Magenta, what is wrong?" asked Riff-Raff.
Magenta had an odd sort of smile on her face. "Nothing is wrong, darling. It's wonderful news."
"What?" asked Riff-Raff, confused. "What could be so wonderful that it caused you to get so-"
"I'm pregnant, Riff-Raff," said Magenta, cutting him off. "And you're the father."
Riff-Raff's jaw dropped. He began to stutter, trying to form some sort of response.
"It explains why I was so nauseous those weeks," said Magenta. "And too, I'd missed my period and hadn't even realized it."
"This is not good news at all!" yelled Riff-Raff.
"Shh, you'll draw attention to yourself!" whispered Magenta angrily.
"No!" shouted Riff-Raff. "Do you know what happens when people like us have children?"
Magenta buried her head in her hands and began to cry again. "I was worried this would happen!" she cried.
"Worried?" said Riff-Raff, quieter this time. "You have to get this thing aborted, Magenta, as soon as possible."
"No," said Magenta.
"What?" asked Riff-Raff.
"No!" shouted Magenta. "We'll find a way! Somehow…"
Riff-Raff's eyes boggled. "Are you right in the head, Magenta? This child will destroy you from the inside-out, and when it comes, it will be disfigured because of our relationship. Do you wish that on any child?"
Magenta sighed. "You know the laws about abortion, Riff."
Riff-Raff shook his head. "It's allowed on Earth. We can get it done now if you want."
"Those things cost money," said Magenta. "That's something we don't have."
Riff-Raff sighed. This was right. They made less than minimum wage as funeral attendants at the church.
He crumpled into the nearest chair. "How far along are you?"
"Two months exactly," said Magenta, matter-of-factly.
Riff-Raff's eyes went wide. The party!
"We both were drunk," said Magenta. "It's not surprising we didn't do anything to prevent this."
"What do you suppose we do about this, then?" asked Riff-Raff.
Magenta's face was blank. "I…I don't…"
Riff-Raff sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "Arewe going through with this?"
Magenta's face still seemed like a wall of stone. "I don't know."
"We could get it aborted without a doctor," said Riff-Raff.
"Riff, if I could be frank, I don't want someone ripping it out with a wire hanger," said Magenta.
Riff-Raff closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. "Do we keep it, then?"
Magenta's eyes brimmed with tears. "Yes," she said quietly.