Superstitious

25. The gas station is not the best place to miscarriage.

Mbali

We've been on the road for three hours now and decided to stop for gas, tinkle and maybe buy something to eat because we didn't eat breakfast.

Tumelo parks the car and says, "there's a plaza a few kilometres away, we can have breakfast there."

"Cool", Elsa says, swiftly strapping off her seatbelt and climbing out of the car to go to the restroom. Pregnancy's just madly annoying.

"I'll come with you", I say to her, climbing out of the car. We stand across the station and see a small outhouse with indications "Female" and "Male" and walk to the female restroom.

"Oh, thank God they're empty", Elsa says with relief, pushing open the door and stepping inside the stall. I take the second one next door to her.

While I'm there, I think about how weidly lucky we are. Our driver doesn't have a license but we made it this far and we didn't encounter any kind of an accident... yet. Maybe these bad lucks are only attainable at the village. I get an influx of hope when I think about this.

Two minutes later, I'm out, standing next to the sink, washing my hands, my eyes fixed on the mirror. I don't look bad without make-up though, but that doesn't mean I'll stop wearing it.

I stand next to the sink for three minutes, staring at myself. I smear lip-gloss on my lips then pause for a second and notice that Elsa is too quiet. I don't hear plops of urine which indicates that she's done or she's just sitting there.

"Elsa?", I call, silencing everything, including my breathing to hear if she responds.

She doesn't.

There's complete silence.

I hesitantly walk to her door, stopping infront of it and listening. I immediately hear panting and widen my eyes with worry and realisation, she might be having one of those cramps again.

"Elsa?!", I yell, and after that she just wails, so loud that I reflexively jiggle the door handle, banging on the door like a madman when it doesn't open. "Els! Open up!"

She keeps on wailing and moaning in pain, and I gradually start panicking, jiggling the handle as if doing so will eventually open it. Why did she have to lock the door?

"Open, Els!"

"I can't--", she responses, her voice gravelly, "I can't move...", she says. "There's blood, Mbali!", she adds, crying.

Blood? Blood during pregnancy strikes as miscarriage to me.

I gulp. "Blood?", I say, my eyes widening.

"Yeah."

"Uh, just--- ", I trail off when she yelps, "just hold on, okay? I'm getting help."

I  pivot to the door and jolt out.

When I step outside, I roam my eyes around for anyone who might help but no one shows that demeanor. Finally, at the corner of my eye, I ken Tumelo and Jason walking out of a store.

"Tumelo!", I wave at them, and they immediately rush towards me, arriving in about seven seconds.

"What is it?!", Jason asks hastily, buffled by my panicking.

"It's Elsa, she---" before I could finish, Tumelo bolts off to the toilets, Jason and I running behind him.

We storm inside and find Tumelo banging at her door. "ELSA!", he calls, "open the door!"

"I can't move!", she informs, still crying.

"You have to try", Tumelo says desparately. "Please!"

"Can't you just kick the door open?", I ask.

"No", Jason says, "he's gonna hurt her if he does."

I instantly get jaded by that. Elsa is in there, immobile and in pain and we're helpless. What if she's really having a miscarriage? What then? We've all been stressed since the week started and stress and pregnancy do not mix. She wasn't suppose to be caught up in this in her situation.

"Jason, call an ambulance or something", I tell him.

Jason sidles, takes out his phone and makes the call. Tumelo has his head leaned helplessly on the door, his hand clenching the handle. He looks hopeless. We all do. Then suddenly, he shifts away from the door and rushes out. Jason and I stare at him confusedly then glance at each other.

Jason pulls the phone away from his ear. "Where is he going?"

"I don't know", I shrug, "to seek help?"

In not more than two minutes, Tumelo comes back with a scrawny male security guard. "She's in there", Tumelo points.

The guard pushes the door. "Lady!", you have to unlock the door."

"Didn't you hear me?", Tumelo snaps. "I said she can't open. I called you here so that you can open the door."

"I don't have the keys to the stalls", the gaurd says, riling Tumelo even more.

"Can't you get them?", I ask. "She's pregnant and she might be having a miscarriage", I tell him, Tumelo and Jason casting me a terrified glance.

The guard stares at me, not answering. Tumelo takes one glance at him, walks to the sink and start staring at himself in the mirror like a  psychopath about to go apeshit. He's even panting. Then he closes his eyes and leans his forehead against the mirror, constantly thudding against it.

We all gaze at him as he keeps on thudding. He seriously looks like a crazy person.

The guard turns to me. "Is he okay?"

"No."

I open my mouth to add, but close it when a touse of a fracturing mirror hits my eardrums, making Elsa yelp and the rest of us flinch.

"Are you crazy?!", I yell at Tumelo, his knuckles are now engored. He's tremoring, staring down at the shards of mirrors sprawled on the sink, some bloody and some on the floor.

Remember Act III? The one about breaking mirrors? Well, he just broke it and that's more bad luck.

"What the hell is wrong with him?", the guard asks, staring at the broken mirror.

"HELP HER!", Tumelo bellows at the guard, his bloody hand shaking.

"Okay okay", the guard says, striding to the door.

"Wait!", I stop him when I hear the door being unlocked. "I think she opened it."

I place my hand on the handle, pushing it down and slowly opening the door. We finally see Elsa and relief registers in all of us until she wearyingly closes her eyes and thuds on the floor, landing on her side.

"Elsa!", we all yelp, striding inside the stall to her.

"There's blood inside the urinal", Jason informs.