Labour Day

von Marcus Krug

The van sped down the motorway like there was no tomorrow. But the reason why they were speeding down the road was all about the future. The future that was supposed to start that very same day.

Her sweaty hands held fast onto the handle in the door at her side and the other one embedded in the ceiling above her head, when she realised that this – above all – might possibly be her first near death experience. And even though she was a mother of eight, and like her ambitious husband liked to emphasise – still counting –, she wasn’t willing to let go of anything that she already had and what she was going to accomplish soon.

He, on the other hand, was drumming the rhythm of the song that was playing on the radio with his fingers on the steering wheel, whistling the tune. New Order – Bizarre Love Triangle. He smiled into the rear-view mirror at the Caucasian mountain dog in the back of the van, giving it the thumbs up. The massive beast itself was wagging its enormous tail, pounding it against the backrest of the back seat.

And that’s when they hit the traffic jam. He slammed on the brakes. She almost wrenched the handles out of the door panel and the ceiling. But the dog only bumped mildly into the backseat, while his unforgiving claws dug themselves relentlessly into the carpety boot floor. The car came to a halt.

“Bloody hell, we are in such a tearing hurry, for fuck sake!” He slammed his fist down on the steering wheel.

“Language, please.” She let go of the handles reluctantly.

“Oh c’mon, please, he is not even here, yet!”

“A ‘he’, you say? No, it’s going to be a girl. I can feel it, now even more than ever before.”

“Then tell me, why do we always have to do this blind flight thing? I mean, it’s not like it’s our first time where multiplying still has something magical about it.”

“Hmm, it’s going to be number nine, to be precise. But say, isn’t that what you always wanted?”

“I want a boy! After eight girls, the only thing I want is a boy!” Only a split second before his other hand was about to vent his annoyance – on the dashboard this time –, he stopped himself. Because she was twisting and turning in her seat – clutching the handle in the door again, but now for different reasons.

“Oh no, not now! Not here!” His edgy voice made known.

“Shut up, I don’t need this now!” She barked at him. The handle crunching in her vice-like fist.

“But look at you, I can’t help you. Not here. Not now. You need a doctor.” He whined, patting her hand that was clinging to the hand brake.

She turned around and looked at him “A midwife is all I need! Shut up now and don’t be such a wimp!” She hissed through her clenched teeth. “You are a bigger sissy than your eight daughters combined!” she spat at him.

It is not known whether she intended the following to happen or not, but he straightened himself up, released the brakes and floored the accelerator. The car – for the want of space – pushed itself up the crash barrier. With the two wheels on the barrier guiding the other two along the road, the car picked up speed quickly, bypassing the traffic jam that way. After quite some distance the van jumped off the end of the barrier and gained, even more, speed.

As soon as the van was back on the road, he pushed the car even further, trying to make the needle perform a three sixty. The engine was roaring. However, the vehicle’s speed was inversely proportional to the dog’s level of comfort. The poor creature started howling in the back like it was going out of fashion. He, with both hands on the steering wheel, tried to calm the dog, talking to it, which aroused in the animal the wish to be with its master in the front. In the rear-view mirror, he could see how the terrified dog tried to climb over the back seat. While staring daggers at the dog, he was shouting at the confused creature. Its master’s loud and booming voice eventually compelled the poor thing to obey him and stay where it was, even though it was shitting bricks.

Both of them were completely oblivious of the ghastly ordeal she was going through, twisting and turning in the passenger seat. Even though she was a pro for that matter, it seemed that this time she wasn’t able to deal with the situation, obviously due to the slightly different circumstances. Her pain, his shouting, the dog’s howling and their speeding was perhaps a bit too much for her to handle at a time. The repeatedly breaking of painful waves made her clutch the door handle and the hand brake again. A big one caused her to take action by ripping the handle out of the door panel and by pulling the hand brake. The latter action caused the car to violently veer off course, resulting in a collision with the aforementioned crash barrier.

The understanding of motion teaches us about inertia as the measure of a body’s resistance to changes in velocity. The second when the colossal Caucasian mountain dog smashed through the backrest of the back seat and hit her seat was exactly the moment when her water broke.