Breakdown

The car stopped somewhere between Cairns and Alice Springs.

“You didn’t put enough petrol in,” I said.

Nick pulled the key out of the ignition.

“The tank was full, Jane,” he said.

I shrugged and got my compact mirror out of my handbag. Sweat and foundation had melted together so my face appeared to be sliding away. I took a packet of wet wipes from the glove compartment.

“What are you gonna do about it?” I said as I wiped my face.

Nick got out and slammed the door. The car shuddered.

“Wet wipes are for babies,” he said through the open window.

I threw the wet wipe on the floor and turned my face towards the dusty fields. A kangaroo watched as it chewed on grey-brown bush. A joey’s feet poked out from its pouch.

The bonnet screeched as Nick opened it. The air tasted sour with petrol. I reached for my water bottle from the backseat. The plastic was hot and the water felt like morning sickness in my mouth.

I got out. A fly landed on my face and crawled towards my mouth.

“Want some water?” I said.

Nick took the bottle and drank.

“That tastes foul,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Do you think I should try unscrewing this bit?” said Nick.

“How should I know?” I said.

Nick wiped his oily hands on his T-shirt.

“I was asking your advice,” he said. He glanced at my stomach then looked back to the engine. “Sometimes we need to make decisions together.”

I walked towards the back of the car, kicking up sand the colour of dried blood.

“Some things,” Nick said, “affect both of us.”

I stopped and turned to face him. I pinched my arm.

“It’s my body,” I said.

Nick shut the bonnet.

“It wasn’t just your body,” he said.

I sat by the side of the road and pulled my knees up to my chest.

“It was still part of me,” I said. “It wasn’t a separate thing.”

Nick walked closer so he was standing over me.

“It was mine,” he said.

I drew circles in the sand with my finger. It felt gritty under my nail. I pressed my teeth into my tongue until I tasted salt and moved my head from side to side.

Nick stepped back and leaned against the car. He wiped his arm over his eyes.

I clenched my fists so my nails dug into my palms.

“Maybe one day we could,” I said.

Nick walked to the front of the car. He opened the bonnet then shut it.

“There was a roadhouse a few miles back,” he said. “I could walk there and ask for help.”

“In this heat?” I said.

“It’s cooler now,” said Nick. Sweat trickled down his cheeks.

I stood up.

“We could work it out together,” I said. I went to open the bonnet.

Nick shook his head.

“You can’t fix it,” he said. “You don’t know how.”

I watched him walk away until all I could see was the endless, empty road.