Beverley's Bolero

"Beverley, you're getting a bit pudgy at the sides aren't you?" Edward said. Coming up behind his tiny 5'4 wife -whom stood in front of a mirror in the master bedroom of their Californian villa - - he placed his hands on her hips gently.

"Maybe I'm pregnant!" Beverley exclaimed, biting her lip with glee.

"No. You can't be pregnant," Edward replied, grabbing his wife's back close and tight to his body.

"Why?"

"I don't know, women always ruin their bodies when they have kids. You don't want to wreck your body, do you?" Edward cooed in his usual deep voice.

"I....I don't look at it that way," Beverley replied, noticing a familiar stinging in her under eyes.

"Oh Beverley, Beverley, Beverley, you're such a young flower," Edward coerced before placing a hand freely around his wife's neck. "And I'm such an old man. But it's such a shame...do you really think you're pregnant?"

"Yes," Beverley whispered with a nod.

Edward looked into the mirror, smiling gently for a brief moment before tightening his grasp about Beverley's neck like a noose. Noticing his wife straighten her posture to attention, he lent into her ear slowly. "You better do something about that than," he said and slowly began to walk away from the mirror, his intentions of leaving Beverley to drown in her thoughts.

"Edward?" she called suddenly.

"Yes?" he replied, turning back to face his wife.

"What's that sound?"

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It was loud, but there was a sullen silence that overshadowed one of Tokyo's wealthiest hotels.

A blonde-haired Beverley found herself on the floor, amongst the crystal shards of a fallen chandelier. The carpet glowed a light pink as it seemed the only light came from the sparkling glow of the emergency system. The young woman shook her head with disorientation and began to look around in the veil of shadows. A voice shouted something inaudible in the far distance and in the background a steady beating was present amidst mute rooms. Beverley attuned her ears but couldn't quite make out what it was.

"Wait..." Beverley whispered, her normally soft voice, smoky and rough. She began to hack and cough whilst she rolled over onto her side. Slowly, she picked herself up with the help of the hotel's walls. Mass confusion plagued her mind, she slowly began to stumble down the corridor in the direction she knew to be the lobby. None of her bones were broken and she did know where she was, that much she could assure herself. The blue-eyed doctor eagerly ran her hands over her skin, checking for nicks and cuts as she followed the glow of the pink carpet.

"Hello!" she called down the hall. "Help!" Beverley listened with her life but no more words could be heard. Making her way down the corridor, only that steady beating sound pulsated again and again in the young woman's ears.

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"Oh God, how the fuck do I get out of here?" she muttered quiet and disgruntled to herself. "Anyone!" The voices remained obsolete as Beverley thought she had found her way into the lobby but had in fact entered the lounge. Her eyes adjusted to near darkness and with this, her hearing senses also became heightened. Walking slowly with her long dress bunched up in her arms, Beverley found her walking path to not be clear by any means.

And then it happened again as though time was the only thing keeping it. The ground continued to shake and Beverley's legs collapsed out from underneath her, dropping her atop a fallen barstool. She fell and she fell hard. A shrill scream came from the woman as things could be heard falling in all directions around her.

'Help!'

The shaking went on for twenty seconds and then discontinued. Beverley sat herself up slowly, her arms remaining over her head as she continued to look around in the dark. She had heard something and it wasn't the sound of the ground shaking like murderous thunder. It was a voice. She had heard a man's voice.

"Hello!" she called out into the dark. "Is someone there?"

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There was that distinctive beating sound again and then even better. "Help me?"

"Someone's there," she cried. "Where are you?"

"Yes, I'm here. Please help me, I'm pinned under something heavy," a nasally voice said sheepishly.

"Oh my God! Look, just hold on I'm going to try and find you," Beverley replied.

"That would be great. Look, just don't leave me here, I need to be able to find my friends," he said and the young woman could tell he was frightened.

Beverley stood and slowly began to search the room, item by fallen item. "That's good, just keep talking. I'll follow your voice. So you say you need to find your friends?"

"Yeah."

"Where are they?" Beverley inquired.

"They were down here, in the lounge. I was having dinner upstairs and then I came down here to meet them. Well, I guess you know the rest of the story. Look, are you okay?" the man asked with concern.

"Yes, I'm fine. I only had a bunch of glass fall on top of me," Beverley said, laughing to make light of the moment.

"Jesus, I never thought if I was in an earthquake it would be when I was somewhere other than Oakland. Especially San Francisco, that place is going to get hit bad someday. Ouch!" the man yelped.

"Oh God, are you okay?" Beverley cried.

"Yes, I believe you're stepping on my arm though."

"Oh jeez, I'm sorry!" Beverley stepped away briefly and quickly lent down at the man's side. "I've found you!"

"Yes, this is me," the man said, surprisingly humorous under the situation. "Ow woman, you're wearing high heels, aren't you?"

"Yeah...oh no," Beverley sighed.

"What?"

"You know what you're goddamn pinned under?" she asked him colloquially.

"What?"

"You're lying right under the fucking bar! This thing must weigh fifteen hundred pounds, I'll never be able to lift it!" Beverley cried with worry.

The man went silent for a moment. He sorted his thoughts, knowing if this strange woman left his side and never returned he'd likely die. But if he forced her to stay, she might die right along with him. "Look, go get help..." he whispered pleadingly.

Beverley spat and laughed hysterically. "Excuse me, I don't know if you're deaf, but can you not hear that everyone is either already fucking dead or evacuated? No one's here!"

"You're right," he replied. "Okay, we're going to have to lift it together. Will you help me?"

"If I wasn't going to help, I'd be long gone," Beverley answered, standing up, straightening her legs and lowering her arms onto the bar.

"Let me know when you're ready," the man said, ignoring her sarcasm.

"I'm ready," she answered. Dr. Sampson put all her might into lifting that bar and with the help of a strong man, it came free and was pushed in the direction of the far side of the room.

"Oh, holy motherfucker that was a rough gig!" the man squealed.

"Are you okay?" Beverley asked with concern, taking the man by the arm to help him sit up.

"Yeah, it only came down on my chest, I'm a big strong boy," he answered with a tremor of pain on his vocal cords.

"I think you're lying. I'm going to go outside and see if I can find help. Don't move an inch!"

"Yes ma'am."

Beverley stood upright, taking her long dress up in her hands again. It was then that she realized she had lost her purse. That seemed like such a miniscule problem compared to everything else that was going on and she didn't even give a second thought to it.

"Wait," the man in the dark said after miraculously propping himself up against a fallen barstool.

"Yes?" Beverley said, turning back briefly.

"Maybe I better come for part of the way. They might not find me if I'm way in here," the man said, his voice now sounding more alert.

"You're right. Let me help you up," Beverley offered.

"No, that's okay. My legs aren't broken, I'm pretty sure I've just fractured something in the right side of my chest," he insisted.

"Are you sure? I'm a doctor. It's too bad I can't look at you. I would if I could see something in this fucking God forsaken hotel!" Beverley shouted and then let out a light sigh. "Either way, I think getting out of here sooner than later would be great."

"Oh you're a doctor," the man laughed, "wanna play doctor?"

Beverley giggled, placing her hand on the man's shoulder as he stood himself up. Without a word spoken, she and he began to work their way around the destruction caused by this magnitude earthquake. They held hands as not to lose contact with one another. Beverley led the pack, triumphantly finding the lounges exit and making the discovery of the lobby which glowed with flickering lights of orange, red and blue.

"The sun's coming up," the nasal-voiced man said.

"There are firemen and paramedics!" Beverley cried out and she suddenly began to think about Edward. Although coercing divorce to him, she had to wonder whether he had made it out okay, or whether he was idly sitting injured on the hotel's top floor. "There's the exit, do you want me to leave you here for a moment and go get help outside?" Beverley inquired.

"Ah yeah, I need to rest for a moment, I think I'm bleeding pretty badly," he told her.

"You're bleeding?" Beverley shrieked.

"Yeah, I am," he replied. "I didn't want to freak you out before, but since you're a doctor..."

She grabbed the man by his shoulders and held him against the colourful glow on the wall. Now getting a full view of the man's clothed chest, Beverley flinched her nose and stood back for a brief moment. Without saying a word, she began to remove the man's jacket and t-shirt.

"Oh, undressing me now?" the man said in an over-sexualized voice. "And oh crap, there's a dead body behind you."

Beverley jumped before turning around to witness that there was indeed a body, on the floor behind her. She swallowed back a dry lump in her throat, trying to keep her thoughts straight as she turned back to look at this man with tall brown hair. "Look, I should have given this thought before I dragged you out here with me. You could also have internal bleeding, in which case moving around a lot is not good for you. I'm only an herbalist doctor so I don't know much about this crap, but I think you should sit down," Beverley advised.

"No, the door's right there. We'll go ahead," the man protested as he grimaced at the strewn body on the floor.

"You're a grown man, so I'm not going to order you what to do with your life, seeing as how we are in a lot of fucking danger right now. So fine, let's go than," Beverley rambled with nervous excitement and she took the man's brawny arm, threw it across the back of her shoulders and began to venture further into the lobby. "Oh God, I must have a thousand pieces of crystal embedded under my skin."

"What happened to you?" the man inquired.

"I had a chandelier fall on top of me. Go figure," Beverley laughed light-heartedly.

"That sounds painful...." he said, trailing off.

"Yes, I think it's safe to say I was out for some time. How long ago did the quake start, any idea?" Beverley asked.

"I would say I was trapped...all night," he answered. "So, since you found me about fifteen minutes ago, it's safe to say this started around...last night."

"God I am glad I'm not trapped in that stupid elevator right now," Beverley said, grabbing herself tightly for comfort. "Did you mention San Francisco awhile ago or am I just severely homesick?"

"Yeah, I mentioned it," he whispered, "that's where I'm from."

"Really?"

"Yes, well Oakland," the man gasped in reply, holding his chest with his free arm as Beverley led him down some stairs towards the hotel's revolving door entrance. "Why, you've been to San Francisco?"

"Yes, but I'm from Berkeley!" she replied. "Well, Alabama in all technicality."

"That's craziness."

Beverley held her breath for a brief moment as she took in the sight of patrol cars roaming up and down the broken streets. And then, she drew her eyes back to focus on the revolving door which by all means had stopped spinning as soon as the power went out. "Crap, the door's not working!"

"Fuck, we'll have to push it manually. That's obviously what everyone else has been doing." Beverley's mouth literally fell open and her stranger friend had to coax her back to reality and the fact that they were trying to open the door. "Hey, lady?" the man said quietly.

"Yes?" Beverley replied, still not succumbing to alertness.

"The door," he said.

"Oh," she shrieked, "let's do this quickly." Stepping over to the door, the blonde 30-year-old found her position beside the man, and together they began to push. "Ow, holy fuck this thing!" Beverley squealed in pain as she put all her strength into trying to get the door to budge; it wouldn't, not even an inch. "Jesus Christ, move!"

"Move, oh fuck!"

Beverley bit into her lip until it bled. She continued to push until she had noticed that the man at her side had fallen away from the door. She gasped with shock and discontinued pushing to find the man lying on the floor at her feet. "Are you alright?" she sniffled, distraughtly.

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm just a little dizzy. I guess that's not how everyone got out..."

And then like something that only time was waiting for, the thunderous shaking started again. Beverley lost her balance and collided with the man on the floor. She wailed, grabbing onto his arm as though it were the only thing holding her between life and death. The strange man placed his arms around her back, and though only feet from the outside world, she was his lifejacket. Loud banging noises could be heard as random heavy objects fell and collapsed around the lobby. Beverley tried to assure herself to stay calm, but her emotions got the best of her and she began hysterically crying.

This aftershock lasted approximately twenty-five seconds before it stopped dead in its tracks. Beverley wanted to sit up, but the man whom had been at her side for approximately the last fifteen minutes of her life had embraced her so tightly, she might not be able to. A tear fell horizontally down her face as they lay there in each other's arms. His face was hidden in the crevice of her neck and his breath, warm on her skin. She raised her arm, and placed it gently on his upper cheekbone. "We have to go," she whispered, drawing her mouth close to his ear.

He lifted his head away from her neck and stared her in the eyes intently. "Break the window," he said.

Beverley stared back at him, she looked down and away over to one of two windows situated on either side of the revolving door. She bit her lip, giving thought to it before nodding her head.

"It's the only way," he said, assured. "And I'm going to be honest with you, I don't have any strength left."

"Okay," Beverley replied and she stood up swiftly. "What can I use?"

"I don't know," the man answered, eyeing around the room erratically as he lay there on his side. "Oh, look at those metal things that the velvet ropes are attached to!"

"Yes!" Beverley shrieked in excitement, running over to one of the chrome poles that had lined the red carpet of the lobby. In her tall high heels, she grabbed up the heavy object swiftly, the thick and heavy velvet rope pulling back just enough to make it difficult. "Ah, I'm not built for this!"

"Don't say that! Just give a good run at the window! I've smashed lots of windows before, it's not as hard as it sounds!" he urged her.

"You've smashed lots of windows?" Beverley said with a wtf expression on her face. Calling out like a Barbarian warrior before the man had a chance to answer, the tiny blonde gave a run at the window, full throttle. She bounced back roughly, and stood to eye what damage she'd caused. The strong glass of the window cracked in the center and the crackling just seemed to travel and grow with each passing second, leaving the window weak yet intact. She dropped the chrome pole to the floor and let out a frustrated scream.

"Try kicking it," the man advised.

"I'm wearing high heels!" Beverley shrieked.

"Crap. Well here, come take my shoe and put it on," he insisted.

"There's going to be a lot of broken glass, I don't know if we should be removing ou-"

"Just do it! I care more about dying than I do about getting a few pieces of glass in the bottom of my stupid fucking foot! I have children to live for!" he cross-examined.

"Alright," Beverley said, and she slipped one of her heels off.

"Just pull my shoe off," he said.

"Yeah, okay." Beverley lent down at the man's feet and without looking began to tug on his shoe. Her heart beat the same as the rhythm she had heard when she first had woken on that hallway floor. Even now she pondered what that rhythm was and wondered if she'd ever know. Being ignorant to it and biting harder into her lip, she slipped the shoe on her foot.

"Good, now beat the shit out of that window," he urged again.

Beverley held her leg up and began kicking the window out. She hacked at it for a good twenty seconds before it actually started to materialize and fall out. When it did, the light and sounds in the lobby became alive and catastrophic. Sirens could be heard beaming from all over the city as a thousand authoritarians came running at the window metaphorically.

Tears ran freely down Dr. Sampson's face, before she was snatched from the window out into the early morning dew. People outside began shouting things in Japanese as Beverley was pulled from the wreckage of the still standing hotel. She broke into further tears as the Japanese authorities tried to toss her off to a paramedic team.

"No! There's a man!" she bellowed as a paramedic snatched her off the broken concrete of the hotel's outer entrance courtyard. "I'm fine! I'm fine! Someone help him! Please!" Beverley looked down at her feet as she limped behind the paramedic whom wanted to drag her to safety. On one foot, there was one of her white high heels and on the other, a black shoe, covered in marijuana leafs. "Omigod," she muttered.

"Hey!" a swift dominant male voice cried out in the early morning.

Beverley turned her head back after the paramedic had forced her onto a stretcher. To her tired eyes, she saw a tiny man with black hair running up behind her and she simply had to refuse to lay down until she spoke with him.

"Miss!" the man called.

Beverley gasped and gasped again. She swallowed air as she tried to contain her breathing which had awfully turned to hyperventilation. Her skin began to tingle and she finally got a first look at the bruises adorning her body. "Who?" she cried.

"Miss, did you see a man with tall brown hair?"

"Yes...oh yes," Beverley cried hysterically. "Please help him, he's hurt. He's hurt..."

"Holy shit where is he?" the black-haired man shrieked.

"In the lobby," Beverley said as the paramedic tried to hold her down to detain her from her constant movement. "LET GO OF ME! Someone help him, please!"

"Look!" the tiny man gasped.

Beverley shot her bloodshot eyes up towards the hotel and continued to fight the paramedic away from her. A woman shouted in Japanese and by the reaction of other paramedics, Bevvy could only reason that a stretcher had been ordered. Her eyes fell closed with exhaustion and her tears dried up until only subtle whimpers were her call of sorrow.

"There he is!"

"Save him..." Beverley murmured, tossing her head back and forth slowly as she became lost in her memories.

"Mrs. Sampson, the child's been aborted, you may leave," the tall male doctor spoke calmly to me.

"Thank you, doctor," I replied and I stood up off the table where my feet had been held in stirrups.

"Have a nice day, Mrs. Sampson," the doctor said, his tone disguising that of the fact he'd just murdered an innocent child.

"Doctor," I said, turning to look at him as I pulled up my pants and found my sandals. "Do you want to know what I would have called it had I have kept it?"

"What Mrs. Sampson?"

"Aaron," I replied, my under eyes stinging with sullen tears.

I had booked my appointment for a Thursday and went in feeling unsure of what I was choosing to do. Not only was I unsure, but I also believed that it was my choice and Edward hadn't talked me into it. I suppose you could say, I was brainwashed by a brain surgeon.

With that, I up and left the office back out into my existence. That's what it was, I couldn't call it life because I didn't feel like I was living after that. A part of me died with that child. A part of myself I thought I'd never ever get back.

I came home that morning and I crawled into bed. I missed my patients' appointments and different errands I was to run. I became severely depressed.

Edward had been working in all-night surgery and had arrived home in the early afternoon to which he woke me and questioned why I wasn't at work. I had told him what I had done and he looked as though he truly though he'd gotten the best of me. But the truth was, Edward never got the best of me.

The best of Beverley was not for Edward Sampson, it was for someone else.

"Holy shit she's bruised. Hey, lady?" a nasally voice came and a tug on the arm. "What if she goes into a coma?"

Beverley opened and fluttered her eyes as the early sun shone into her face. The first thing she saw was the piercing blue eyes of a beautiful stranger, lying in a stretcher next to her. Above him stood four people. That tiny man with black hair, an Hispanic woman and two other men. One was a tall blue-eyed man with blonde hair and the other was slightly chubby with brown hair.

The Japanese paramedic spoke calmly, checking her blood pressure and treating her cuts as they did the same for him, tending to his wounds. She sighed with fatigue and the blue-eyed man extended his arm out to take her hand. She took it without refusal as her hyperventilation slowed to normal breaths.

"Hey, what's your name?" he asked her.

"Dr. Beverley Samp....Beverley Feldman," she answered and she drew her eyes up to the top floor of the hotel with wonder. Was her husband, Edward Sampson still thriving in life, wealthy enough to escape this tragedy or was he dead? She closed her eyes with despair.

The man gripped her hand even tighter before lifting it to his mouth and kissing it with a gentleman's charm. He took sight of the young blonde woman reopen her eyes with amazement. He began to laugh quietly, placing his free hand on the panging in his right chest. He nodded his head before introducing himself.

"You saved my life little lady."

"It was nothing..." Beverley murmured tiredly. "Who are you?"

"Bevvy, it was everything," the man replied, addressing her more casually than how she'd introduced herself to him. It was almost like an act of defiance and he turned his gaze briefly to the black-haired man standing beside his stretcher to grin.

Who was this blue-eyed man, Beverley thought as she watched the tiny black-haired man return her beautiful stanger a grin. He had just addressed her as Bevvy, a name she was sure she hadn't shared with him at any point during the previous minutes they'd spent together. That had been a name only her close friends and family had called and known her by. She let out a small painful whimper as she fixed her eyes on him again and forced a pleasant smile. Letting her eyes trail down the length of his body, on his left foot, the shoe she wore on her right. She looked at it and her face lit up. Nothing could make this man anymore special or unique than she already thought he was, not even learning his name.

"It's fucking great to meet you, Beverley, I'm Tré Cool."