Respectable

Content warning: This story deals with sensitive topics including child poverty, pregnancy termination and drug dealing.

The high-pitched barcode scanner sound at the self-checkout always elevated her stress level. Her body heat was spreading under her old winter coat. She was sure to be the main focus on the radar of the security guard in the corner of the grocery store. Her oversized red coat looked shabby; she was wearing jeans that had lost their rich black colour. Someone could say she was a natural beauty with no trace of make-up, undyed hair and a messy ponytail. Her outlook though, together with the flimsy baby stroller at her side, made her the number one suspected shoplifter in the store. Why is the scanner volume as loud as the police sirens? She asked while searching for the basic white rolls on the touchscreen. Why don't they put white bread rolls on top of the list? She wailed. Doesn't everyone buy them? Or is she the only one who cannot afford healthier options? She turned to look at the queue behind her. There was a middle-aged lady with a strictly cut blonde bob and a thick layer of make-up, holding the shopping basket and tapping her foot nervously. Julia smiled apologetically at the piercing, cold look the lady gave her. Ah, there it was. White bread rolls, 43 g each. She put them on the scale but it did not seem to work. She tried again. Little Zoe threw her toy on the floor. “Eh, eh, eh!” She cried and was pointing to the rattle, hoping she would get her little plastic car keys back. The self-checkout light started flashing red.  Zoe began wailing, tired of waiting. The lady in the queue muttered: “Unbelievable. Why is it so difficult to buy bread rolls!” Zoe stretched like a taut string and began to cry. Julia gestured at the manned cashier. “I am terribly sorry,” she apologized loudly over Zoe's wailing, feeling the heat spreading to her ears and face. “Something seems to have gone wrong, would you help me, please.” The tired woman in the uniform stood up from her cashier seat. She shuffled her feet towards the checkouts. Without uttering a single word, she scanned her employee batch on Julia's screen. Without moving a muscle in her face she rummaged through Julia's shopping bag to check for any stolen goods. Then she returned to her seat to resume her regular rhythm of beeps. Julia was processing the embarrassment in silence. She picked the toy from the floor and gave it back to Zoe who smiled and stopped crying as if by a flick of a magic wand. “Well, it looks like it should work now,” Julia said to Zoe, in a cheerful tone that always made her baby laugh. “We should be getting bonuses for using the self-checkout.” The young man, who looked in his early twenties, chuckled behind her. It seemed the blonde lady had decided to queue elsewhere, Julia noticed. “If there were any bonuses, I would be rich,” she answered in a low, angry voice and paid with her debit card. “These self-checkouts get stuck every other time I come here,” he said.“Yeah, they should do something about it.” Julia agreed and put her 20 rolls in the stroller basket. Zoe grinned from the stroller that she inherited from her siblings,  and was pointing at the stranger talking with her mummy. “Hiya, hiya!” She called to get his attention. “Hello! You be nice to your mummy!” He smiled. “Oh, she is the nicest but her four siblings keep me busy!”  Julia turned to leave. “Have a good day!” She said to the friendly man, attractive, she thought, a uni student most likely. She walked away briskly, thinking about conjuring up a dinner out of nothing before the kids stormed in from school. 

     The northern wind hit her hard. She paused to pop Zoe's blanket over her feet and over as much chest as possible. It was a plain grey colour blanket they were given by a charity organization but it was warm. “No, no!” Julia reminded Zoe when she started to kick it off. “Leave it in place! It's cold! Brrr!” When Julia straightened, she caught a glimpse of something silver glinting on the ground, in the remnants of snow. “Has someone lost their card?” She felt around in her pocket but it was there. “She picked the plastic card up. There was nobody around it could be returned to, and she had no time, nor was she willing to take it to the store. She would try to find the person it belonged to through a social app on the way home. Her fingers were freezing. She unlocked her phone and typed “Josh Hartmann” on Instagram in the cracked part of her screen showing the search field. A picture of a dog came out first, followed by an older Josh based in Chicago, on the other side of the world, so it was likely this would not be him. The third picture was of a boy with braces. No location. Could this be the man I have just spoken to in-store? She asked and sent a message: “Hello I might have found something of yours. Text me back with the name of the thing you have lost and I will happily return it to you.” She pressed “Sent” and doubled her pace. It was really windy. She did not want Zoe to catch another croup again. Had her brother not paid for Zoe's medicine, Julia had no idea how she would get the money. Any extra expense meant the kids would not have another dinner. Why is it getting so difficult? 

Her husband, Peter,  told her to get rid of Zoe when she found herself pregnant with her. There was a 1:6 risk that she would be born with Down syndrome. Ending a pregnancy voluntarily was against every inch of Julia's being. “I don’t have a choice,”  she said to Peter. She could not explain why. This kind of viewpoint on life was a part of her like words were part of a story. Her gynaecologist recommended she visit Rivendell - a home for people born with Down syndrome, “to see the suffering.” The doctor made an appointment for the termination procedure without even asking Julia whether she would agree. Julia found an Instagram profile of a happy family of four instead, where the youngest had an extra chromosome. When she told Peter about the prognosis, he threatened her. He could not imagine looking after a child with a genetic variation of this type. He would not bear it, and he would have to leave them. That was a blow. She felt like a rag doll being thrown on the floor over and over again. She expected Peter would be as supportive as always but the reality was different and surprisingly cruel.  It was necessary to use all the savings she had from her work abroad for a non-invasive prenatal test confirming potential genetic conditions. It was supposed to be 99% accurate. She refused to undergo any free tests as they involved a needle and a risk to the baby. Her blood sample was sent to a US laboratory and returned the next week. The results were negative. She was immensely relieved. Her savings saved the marriage and prevented the family breakdown, at least for now. Their child would be most likely healthy. 

Despite the result, Julia recalled spending the long night of Zoe's birth at the birth centre. The paediatrician was expected to give Zoe a proper check-up the following morning. Zoe was the same weight as her siblings when they were born but she was plumpier. Julia felt a trembling cold come over her when Zoe opened her eyes for the first time. She adored the little knot but was not sure she did not have the look of a Down syndrome baby. She could basically become a single parent overnight, Julia worried. How would she tell Peter? They have been together for almost twenty years. His love could not have been so great if he was not willing to overcome the hard times they were to face. Julia did not sleep that night. How would she manage four kids on her own? Peter would start over elsewhere if he had a chance, unlike her. She would be done for. Life was not kind to women, her grandma used to say and it was still true fifty years on. “Zoe is a beautiful, thriving girl.” The doctor concluded. A fairy-tale ending. All worries were forgotten, and the episode was never spoken of.

 Peter was working his skin off, but with Julia's income from work gone and the inflation rate worsening continuously, they found that it had been impossible to cover their basic expenses. They have stopped going for trips, buying clothes or spending on anything else but bills, food and nappies. Julia noticed Zoe had fallen asleep during the fast walk from the store,  despite the icy wind. She unlocked their door quietly, took off her coat, carefully removed Zoe's blanket, and then tiptoed into the kitchen. She found a chickpea can and a few cans of chopped tomatoes. That would make a good quick curry. She got down to work. A message tone sounded from her phone. “I lost my credit card,” it said. When it is about money, of course, people are quick to answer, Julia sighed. “I can hand it over at the bus stop in Peace Square at almost any time. It's in front of our flat.” She replied, thinking that hopefully, good karma existed. “In five minutes? Josh asked. “Ok.”  That was sooner than she expected, but she turned the cooking down and peeked out of the window. The young man she met at the store was standing at their bus stop. She ran out quietly in her slippers, not bothered to put on a jacket. She would be back in one minute. 

 Josh must have been at least ten years her junior. The wind was playing with his fashionably cut chestnut hair. “Hi again!” she smiled, handing the credit card over. “Thank you so much! I am so grateful! I thought I heard something fall down in front of the store but could not see anything. What a surprise it was when I wanted to pay.” He said in one breath. “It was half buried in the snow but don't worry.” Julia flicked her hand. I would be over the moon if one of my kids were in your place and someone returned their credit card to them. Josh was playing with some banknotes nervously. “Please, take this.” He extended his hand with money that could buy them weekly groceries. Julia turned scarlet. “Don't worry about it.” This was embarrassing, she thought and wanted to leave. She never expected money. “This money means nothing to me,” he said, “I wouldn't have found the card without you.”

Julia wanted to say money meant nothing to her either, but then the struggle she had to face was uncoiled in her mind like a film. The medicine she stopped buying for her asthmatic ten-year-old son, the cheapest nappies that have been the source of great pain to Zoe, her constant hunger she had to face and the awfully quiet night when the kids went to sleep with empty stomachs. Julia was feeling the tears swelling up in her chest.  “I wish I could say the same.” She did not want to pity herself. She wiped the tear that escaped her right eye and turned around to check who was standing at the bus stop. An elderly woman was waiting for a bus, clutching a half-full plastic bag on her lap, looking absently to a point on the busy road in front of her. Julia took the money. “I am ashamed. Believe me, I am, she paused and looked up to meet his gaze. “I have been praying for help, she admitted. “I think this might be it, she sniffled, “Thank you.” Josh was at a loss for words, obviously taken aback by such an emotional reaction. Julia disappeared behind the weathered door, too ashamed to turn back.

What has she done? Taken money from possibly a student? He might have needed the money for rent. He might have offered it to her just out of courtesy and now he would end up homeless. He said it meant nothing to him, she disputed. She ran out after him to return the money, but he was gone.

Sending another message seemed like a good solution to Julia's dilemma. “Are you sure you won't be short of money this month?” “Positive.” He said. “I can always ask my parents for more when I need it. They don't question my study expenses,” he added.

Julia was happy. She turned off the dinner pot. The afternoon was in full swing. Zoe woke up and needed nappy changing, and the kids started returning one by one like gusts of stormy wind, exclaiming how happy they were to be at home finally and what was for dinner?

While Zoe was sucking at Julia's breast at night, Julia's stomach was rumbling. She ate just a spoonful of curry over the rice, hoping nobody would notice. Now, she hoped that a hungry mother did not mean a hungry baby. She ordered the missing medicine and a nappy cream for Zoe from a pharmacy.  How she was looking forward to the morning! She would finally have her stomach full and her children would have the medicine they needed.

Julia was looking for ways of covering the basic needs of her family permanently. Whenever she came up with a business idea, Peter said he was not a business-minded person. He liked his 9-5 job and Julia could not start anything on her own. Zoe was addicted to her mummy 24/7. Julia had tried to work from home and ended it on day one. Zoe was continuously wailing at her feet like a broken record.

  Josh seemed to be a regular passenger at their bus stop, Julia noticed. They began greeting each other after their first encounter, and as the weather was turning a bit warmer, he sometimes skipped the bus ride and walked to a nearby park with Julia and the kids. He bought them some ice cream. “They have not had ice cream for more than a year,” Julia said after a moment of counting. “You know, there are simple ways of earning more money," he said and partially pulled out a small pouch filled with white powder. Julia went quiet with surprise, then made sure the kids were playing on the frames and did not see anything. “It is not even that dangerous; Josh continued, "You simply offer it here and there to young adults in the park, and my dad will pay you a generous amount.”

“You do this?”

 “No. But my dad is looking for someone to help out occasionally.” She said nothing but her thoughts were racing. “He would pay you more than what Peter gets every month, I am sure.” 

“What if I am caught?” she asked out of curiosity, laughing at herself for actually considering it for even a second. 

“You won't. You are a mum with a stroller.”

More silence. She was observing her kids.

“This is not right,” she said.

“The world is not right, ” he smiled.

“This is ridiculous.” she reverted. 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

“You know I should report you.” she looked him in the eye.

"You are better than that,” he said and sat down on the bench next to her.

“You know what? Why don't you try selling it just this one time and see how it goes?”

“Am I actually considering this?” she thought out loud, laughing nervously.

He fastened his designer bomber jacket. The sun was shrouded in the clouds and it was getting cold. 

“Won't you do it for them?” He pointed to her kids with his chin. 

“What about the kids I sell it to?”

“They have rich parents with enough money for therapy which they will not need because there are no regular users here.”

The idea of not having to fill her days with worries was tempting. Thinking about being able to afford some new clothes and a haircut that could get her out of the degrading thief suspect role into a respectable mum role would mean a lot to her. She sighed. It was wrong how the world worked. People needed to show they had money to deserve respect. Time to play by the rules and use the chance to get out of the hole.

 “Just this one time and we will see,” she nodded. She could not believe she had just said it.

  Her heart thundered in her chest. She was a criminal.  There was still time to back out, she thought, but she would not.  They had agreed it would be just this one time. 

***

    The more money you have, the more you need, Julia realized later in her prison cell. The police captured her during her third round. People knew she was a local and reported her. So much for the respectable mum, she laughed bitterly. She would have given anything to turn the clock back and be with her children. She was not ready to face them under these circumstances, though.

“You think you are punishing yourself, the guard told her when she refused to see the children, but you are punishing them for something they did not do. And believe me,” she added, “they have enough on their plate. My dad spent years as a prison mate. He was sheltered. It was me out there being told daily we were a family of criminals. It was me suffering the consequences. 

She closed the cell door. Time to face your guilt darling!” the guard called. Julia's sobs filled the cell with heartbreak torn from deep within and she fell to her knees.