The Rough Drafts Writing Blog

Prompt: For sale: Baby shoes, never worn. From Ernest Hemingway, more on the story here.

“Tom Finds and Loses His Way”

Tom was a friend of mine. I’d known him for a long time. He was a lot of fun. He wasn’t the kind of guy though, that you counted on. Tom wouldn’t help you move, you couldn’t count on his advice, and he wasn’t the kind of guy that would bring out the best in you. I don’t put it this way because I want you to think badly of him. I just want you to understand. Tom was a great guy to hang out with, but not a great man.

Tom dated Magdalena for about three months. I remember when they met. Tom and I were in a bar on a Tuesday afternoon. It was oddly bright as the sun shone through the darkened windows. There were only four people in the bar. Tom and I were joined by an old man in a mesh baseball hat and a flannel jacket and Magdalena. We saw her at the far end of the bar as soon as we walked in. She was striking with long black her and dark eyes. There was a sadness in her; it wasn’t specific, but you could see it. She sat alone idly downing drink after drink. Her pace shocked even Tom and I who were used to heavy drinking and being in a bar at one in the afternoon on a Tuesday.

Tom sent a drink down the bar to her. She downed it in one gulp without looking in our direction. Tom sent another and she did the same again. Tom approached her after the third round. They talked, I’m not quite sure about what, but they connected. They became fairly inseparable in the next few weeks. I saw a lot of her too. She was nice. I liked her too. She seemed to make Tom happy.

It all ended after three months when Magdalena told Tom that she was pregnant.

Tom raged, “How can you be pregnant?”
“Do you really need help figuring that out sport?”
“Very funny smartass. I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”
“Well Tom, sometimes when a man loves a woman … they have drunken unprotected sex like irresponsible animals in heat scratching and clawing their way to life-altering change.”
“You’re a fucking riot. Thinking of taking this on the road?”
“Do you really think that I’m happy about this?”
“I don’t know what to think Magdalena. I just can’t deal with this.”
“You can’t deal with this? Any babies growing in your uterus Tom?”
“Fuck this. I’m out of here.” Tom turned and left.

Tom spent the next few months trying to pretend that it hadn’t happened. I broke the pattern that normally colored our relationship and actually implored him to do the right thing. He wouldn’t even respond; he acted like he hadn’t even heard. If I hadn’t known Tom, I would’ve thought that the situation bothered me more than it did him. I reached out to Magdalena and got nowhere. She wouldn’t even talk to me.

About six months later, Tom needed a new pair of shoes. We had this wild night out all over the town. Towards the end of it, we were being chased through the park by the police (and let me tell you … that’s a whole other story of its own) when Tom ran through some deep mud and came out one sneaker short. Tom went to a shoe store the next day. He picked up a new pair of white and red tennis shoes. He spotted the baby version of same pair as he was walking to the register to pay for them. He walked over and picked them up. Something inside him woke up, and he realized at once that he’d made a mistake with Magdalena. He loved Magdalena. He loved his baby. He was just scared. He carried his new shoes to the counter and bought a pair for the baby too.

He left the store resolved to become someone that he’d never been. He was going to be responsible. He was going to get himself together. He had no choice as he was going to be someone’s father. Tom hopped into a cab and told the driver Magdalena’s address. The cab driver took him there straight away.

When he arrived at the house, there was a party going on. Music flooded into the street followed by the sounds of yelled conversation and frantic laughter. Confused, Tom decided to make his way through the throngs of people streaming in and out to find Magdalena. He finally found her in the kitchen talking with a man that Tom had never seen before. It looked to him like they knew each other well. She looked at him.

“What are you doing here Tom? Need another tutorial on the female reproductive system?”
“No Magdalena. I need to talk to you.”
“What is there possibly to talk about Tom? You left. Remember? You left me in the lurch.”
Everyone else filtered out of the kitchen. Tom and Magdalena were alone.
“I was an asshole Magdalena. I was just … being an ass. I was shopping for shoes today and I realized it. I don’t know what to say to make this better. I love you. I miss you. I want to be a part of this baby’s life.”
“Baby? You want to be a part of our baby’s life Tom?”
“Yes. I do. I fucked up and I’m sorry and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to the two of you.”
“It’s too late Tom. I can’t make yesterday go away; it already happened.”
“What do you mean ‘it’s too late’?”
“Are you an idiot? I had an abortion. Do you know how hard it would’ve been to have a baby with you? … if you were on board. But you weren’t. So I did what I had to.”
“Sorry. “

Tom turned and walked away feeling worse than he ever had. There was no feeling worse, in his mind, than losing something that you could’ve had right after you realized that you wanted it. His left hand clutched a bag full of recently useless sneakers. He hopped into a cab and rode off into the night.