At the end of their first full day together as man and wife, Nancy’s realization came to her. She’d married Richard as a temporary fix to her problems, as a way to continue school and the life she was used to. To her, their marriage was an answer that would one day lead to the baby’s and her permanent escape from Richard and the town. But, only one day into her honeymoon, as she stood on a dismal mountain farm, she realized just how naïve she’d been.

Richard adored the ruggedness of North Carolina’s mountains and, unfortunately, Nancy let him pick their honeymoon destination. A tiny town named Little Switzerland, which Nancy called “Microscopic Hell” under her breath, was Richard’s idea of the perfect getaway. Nancy, however, didn’t feel like she was getting away from much. The trouble was inside her petite body and just starting to weigh her down.

Her dad, John, hadn’t been afraid to tell anyone, anywhere, that the wedding was a shotgun wedding. He dealt with his pregnant, unmarried daughter like he dealt with anything else – through his booming voice and tasteless humor. Two months earlier, when she first found out she was pregnant, Nancy sat her parents down at the kitchen table to tell them. John shook his head. “So gas isn’t the only thing Richard’s been pumping, eh?” he said and laughed until he saw his wife and Nancy glaring. For the next few days, John spent his time ambling around the tiny house, knocking into things with his huge frame and making more lewd jokes. Nancy hadn’t seen him that fired up since Aunt May died of pneumonia and he told anyone who would listen, “When a person’s old as sin, like Aunt May, a good sneeze will knock them dead on their ass.”

Nevertheless, after that first week had passed, John managed to remain relatively calm until about a month before the wedding. Nancy and her mother, Rhonda, were sitting at the kitchen table writing out wedding invitations and searching through bridal catalogues when John came bumping into the room, already grinning. “I tell you what, Nanc. I’ve got this old hunting shotgun I found in the garage," he said, pulling the gun from behind his back. "What about if I polished it up and shot it off as you left in your limo?” He started snorting.

“Kind of like a salute, huh?” He busted out into loud guffaws.

“That’s not funny, Dad,” Nancy said, while John continued to laugh.

"Pow!" John boomed, waving the gun in the air and laughing harder.

“God, Mom, make him stop.”

“Cut it out you two,” Rhonda said. “We’re going to get through this wedding and then you can go back to bickering. And John, if I see that gun out again, I'm gonna take it and use it on you.”

John put his hands up in surrender, and still laughing, turned to walk down the hall. To Nancy, his voice seemed to fill up every inch of available space.

Her father got along fine with Richard though; Nancy had to admit. The two laughed and drank beer for hours on the little porch of Nancy’s house, watching the cars drive by. When the wedding rolled around, John gave her away without so much as a tear. In fact, Nancy suspected he was glad to give her away, to give his grandboy (“We got male genes in this family,” Nancy overheard John telling Richard) a father like himself to look up to.

And now the father of her baby was driving like a bat out of hell to get to the Swiss Hotel in “record time.” They had left from the reception and had already been driving for four hours. On the winding roads, the vehicle always seemed a little too close to the cliff’s edge so that the passenger’s side appeared to be hanging over an abyss. Nancy, who could not sleep for fear of toppling over, felt like the queen of the Ford F150s, but sneered at the fact she was even sitting in the cab. She had graduated at the top of her class in high school and had one year of schooling at Virginia Tech. Richard had dropped out senior year of high school. This is a temporary situation, she thought. Richard takes care of me now and, later, the baby, when I go back to school.

After what seemed like an eternity, the truck turned into a parking lot. “Here it is, Honey,” Richard said, waving an arm grandly out the open driver’s side window as he parked the car. “The Swiss Hotel.”

Nancy just blinked. The one story hotel was wooden, painted white and, in the nicest term possible, quaint. The building seemed to teeter on the side of the mountain, almost falling off. Nancy supposed nature was slowly trying to slip this monstrosity out of view, trying to tuck it away in the valley forever. A little plaid curtain hung in every window and all the curtains on the side facing the road were closed. Nancy prayed Richard had had enough common sense to request a room that didn’t face a parking lot full of motorcycles and pick-up trucks.
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Nancy had always been an early riser but she was especially eager to get out of bed the morning after the wedding. The hotel room, which thankfully faced the mountains, had a dead duck theme. Stuffed mallards flew over the bed and on the walls hung five different paintings of dogs with ducks dripping like slobber out of the sides of their mouths. Everything in the room was dark green or brown, except for the red plaid curtains. Richard called it a “man’s room.”

Looking around, Nancy hoped the baby would have her taste. She glanced back at her sleeping husband as she walked to the bathroom. He was sprawled face down, diagonally. His naked, sweaty form took up the entire queen-sized bed. His blonde hair was slicked back with sweat and she could see the gray grime under his fingernails. She was thankful he was lying on his stomach so she didn’t have to see his developing beer gut too.

It was true she’d adored him in high school. Back then all she looked for was a semi-built guy with an exciting car. Richard had driven a red Camaro and, riding in it, Nancy had closed her eyes and imagined she was someone important, someone headed for a brilliant future. She’d had her first kiss in that car, she’d lost her virginity in that car, and, right before she left for college, she’d slammed the Camaro door shut, promising Richard she’d never be back.

But Nancy underestimated the power of boredom in her sleepy town. A week after she returned home from her first year in college, she gave up on soap operas and drove off to find Richard. She located him exactly where she left him, working at the same gas station but, thankfully, driving the same Camaro as well. Just looking at the car made her light-headed.

“Hey, look what the cat drug in,” Richard said when Nancy stepped out of Rhonda’s green Civic. He wiped his dingy hands on his pants. Nancy cringed at the grease and dirt under his nails.

“Hey,” she said. Looking at him, she paused a minute to consider what she was doing. Richard isn’t the best choice, she thought, but he’ll pass the hours. Hell, for old time’s sake. “I was wondering if you wanted to catch up,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could manage.

Richard beamed as if she had just named him Mechanic of the Month. “Yeah,” he said in a slow, drawn out voice. He considered slow to be seductive. “That’d be really nice. Why don’t I pick you up at seven?”

Nancy nodded. She didn’t know it then but it was a head motion that led to yet another first act done in the Camaro – the conception of her child.

As Nancy stood in the Swiss Hotel, she wondered if she could regret her decision with a free conscious. Could I hate getting pregnant and still love my baby? she wondered. All she knew for sure was, until she could straighten things out, her carefree days were gone. Even the Camaro was gone now, traded in for a “family” truck.

Nancy sighed; she was ready to escape the Swiss Hotel for the day. She went in the bathroom and closed the door behind her. As she looked in the mirror, she wondered how rude it would be to leave her new husband sleeping. She took a quick shower before deciding she’d wake Richard. At least he’ll drive, she thought. Nancy pulled her short, black hair into a low ponytail and put on some powder, blush and lip gloss. She puffed out her cheeks, imagining what she would look like fat and pregnant. It didn’t please her. She blew out the air and smiled, admiring her high cheekbones.

“Richard,” she said, coming out of the bathroom and yanking the pillow out from under his head. “It’s time to get up.”
Richard groaned and rolled toward her. “Oh, come back to bed,” he said. “It’s our honeymoon, you know.”

“I don’t care if it is our honeymoon. I told you last night, I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Why not?” he whined. “You got steel panties on under that towel?”

“No. And I told you why not. Don’t you think your sperm has done enough damage already?” Nancy raised her eyebrows and Richard rolled his eyes. “Now I’m going in that bathroom to get dressed and when I come out you better be up and either heading for the shower or wearing some clothes.” She jerked up her suitcase and walked back into the bathroom, slamming the door.

“What do people wear up here?” Nancy asked herself. She decided on a jean skirt and a loose white top. It would hide the tiny bulge she was sure showed by now. Her mother said it was too early, that it was just her imagination, but Nancy swore she was getting bigger. She sat on the toilet and laced up her sneakers, listening to Richard shuffling around in the other room. She wanted to give him plenty of time to put on some clothes before she saw him again. How did I get into this? she thought.

"You don't have to marry him," Rhonda had said on the night before the wedding. She had come to the kitchen for a glass of water and found Nancy staring at the wall. "I had to marry your father, of course, but things have changed now, these are different times."
Nancy shook her head. "How would I support a baby? I want to finish school and with a baby, even community college will take everything I make at the supermarket."

"You and the baby could live here. You could go part time. We could help out," Rhonda offered, but Nancy knew her mother and father were strapped for cash. They had already sold one car and John's job was unstable.

"I couldn't do that to you."

"I know you and your father don't get along. If you want, you and I could move out together, just leave and start a new life."

"It's not that I don't get along with Dad," Nancy began. Then she realized what her mother had said. "Mom, you don't have to wait for me. You can leave on your own. You said it yourself, things have changed now." She touched her mother's hand and Rhonda looked down, forcing a smile.

"Oh, it was a silly idea anyway. I don't know what made me say it out loud."

Nancy sighed. "Well, either way, I can't move in with you. I'll figure something out. Marrying Richard is the best idea for now. We’ll be able to rent a house where the baby can have its own room and Richard’s work is really flexible so he can watch the baby while I’m at school. Besides, in this town, you have to be married if you want to have a child and not have people whisper behind you when you go to the grocery store."

“That’s true. But still…”

“And when I get my degree,” Nancy interrupted, talking faster, “the baby and I will leave Richard and this shitty town behind. I’m just thinking about getting through the present, Mom; nobody planned this. It’s just a temporary fix.”

"I know," her mother said, looking away. "I know."

Was that only two nights ago? Nancy thought. How is it that the wedding seems like years ago? Nancy sighed in the bathroom, her thoughts returning to the present. “Richard,” she called, trying to give him a warning. “I’m ready so you’d better be moving.” She came out of the bathroom with her suitcase. Richard wore a white t-shirt, jeans and hiking boots. Thank goodness, she thought, he’s got some decent clothes on. Now we can get the hell out of this hotel.

“All right,” Richard said. “I guess we should get going. We want to see as much of Little Switzerland as we can.”
Nancy didn’t want to see any of the town but sitting in a room with dead ducks on the walls seemed worse. She followed Richard down the hall and back out to her throne in the F150.

Little Switzerland consisted of a general store, the Swiss Diner and a post office. “So, you want to go to the general store?” Richard asked, pulling into the parking lot the diner and general store shared.

“No.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

Nancy sighed. She wanted to go to the beach or maybe just curl up and hide back at home. “I don’t know. You read the brochures.”

“Well, this town’s really more of an isolated place,” Richard began. “I mean, you go here and there’s not really supposed to be anything to do, see? That’s the idea of a town like this.”

“Richard, we live in a town like that.”

“Well, yeah, but not in the mountains.” Nancy sighed and Richard began to speak in his slow voice. “We could drive up the mountain a ways. See the sights. Or we could just go back to the hotel and open a window.” He gave a sly grin.

“We’ll drive and see the sights,” she replied.
__________________________________________________________________________________________

As they drove higher and higher, Nancy grew more anxious. This honeymoon will only last a couple of days, she thought. Then I can get away. Even if Richard and I do live together, we’ll have separate lives, as soon as this honeymoon is over. That is if Richard doesn’t drive us off a cliff.

Richard drove looking at the mountains instead of the road. “Isn’t that a nice view?” he’d say, pointing out Nancy's window and whistling. It all looked the same to her, lots of trees and hills. Nancy had started to say “uh huh” to each new view without looking away from the dashboard until Richard clapped his hands together. She couldn’t decide if it was the noise or the realization that his hands couldn’t have been on the wheel and clapping at the same time that made her jump and turn so fast.

“Hey Nanc, trout fishing,” he said, pointing to an old wooden sign. Oh shit, Nancy thought. Richard was a sucker for hunting and fishing; he said they made him a real man.

He spun the truck around onto the dirt road under the sign reading “Little Switzerland Trout Fishin’.” Nancy put a hand to her head.

They were on about half an acre of land with two sheep, a dirty looking hole in the ground full of water, which Nancy guessed held the trout, and a rotting, wooden shack. The sheep were tied to stakes, one near the drive and one about a hundred yards away on a hill. The one near the drive was disturbing enough. Its white wool was dingy with dirt and mud. As the truck got closer to it, the sheep started to bleat at them. Suddenly it ran as close as it could to the truck, the rope barely restraining its mad dash. Nancy thought it looked like it was committing suicide.

Richard slowed the car and rolled down the window. “Hey there girl,” he said. The sheep fell silent and stared blankly at him. Then it turned to look at Nancy. Its eyes struck her. They were both a sick color of yellow and one seemed to look out to the side. But the other one stared straight at Nancy; it was wide and round, not scared or panicked but pale and downcast, as if the sheep had been roped there since birth, stepping and sleeping in its own feces. She wondered if it had ever been a clean, pure white color or if it had been born dirty and soiled. It began to bleat again and Nancy couldn’t stand to raise its hopes of being freed any longer.

“Richard, leave that poor animal alone,” Nancy said, breaking eye contact with the sheep. She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them, looking away from the animal. This place should not be a home to any living creature, Nancy thought.

Richard rolled his window back up, pulled the truck forward and parked it beside the shack. The broken down building had hooks, nets and poles hanging from every outer wall and Nancy imagined there were more inside. There was no door to the place and it was only twice as wide as the truck, except for the porch, which protruded from the back over the dirty water. She wondered where the trout farmer lived when he wasn’t fishing or tending sheep. A big, black, rubber jacket hung from a hook on the front of the building. Nancy hoped the coat was way too big for its owner but her hopes were quickly dashed. A huge man, wearing a dirty white tank top, half-buckled green overalls and black boots, ducked out of the tiny doorframe. He pushed his stringy hair off his forehead and looked at the truck.

Richard tapped Nancy’s leg and she shrank away from him, disgusted. He cocked his head to the side. “Well, come on, Honey, the man’s waiting.” He jumped down from the cab. Nancy opened her door and walked around the back of the truck. Just today, she thought, get through today.

“Hey there,” Richard called out to the man after slamming the driver’s side door shut. He walked up the steps to the shack and stood on the landing with the large man. He must have been half a foot taller than her 5’11” husband but Richard didn’t notice. “We’re here to do some trout fishing,” Richard said. “My name’s Richard and that’s my wife, Nancy. We’re newlyweds.”

“Well, I declare.” The giant came to life. “Congratulations man, that calls for a beer.”

They shook hands and headed inside. Nancy stared in disbelief, her mouth hanging open. She thought about sitting in the bed of the truck and waiting there for Richard to finish his beer and his fishing. She lingered a few minutes but the sheep kept staring at her. She felt obligated to either let it go or get out of sight. She went inside the shack.

Richard was out back with the owner. She could see them through the back doorway, sitting on the porch together, drinking and laughing, their fishing poles stuck straight out over the water. Nancy walked quickly through the shack, daring only to look down. The two doors provided the only light for the shack and, in the corners, shadows of nets and hooks looked larger than life and ready to grab her.

"Nancy," Richard said when she appeared in the doorway. "This is Terrell. He says there's some real big trout in this water. You want to cast a line?"

"No." She turned to Terrell and extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Terrell."

He waved his own large hand back. "I got some worm guts on my hands," he said.

"I see."

"You want a beer?"

"No.”

"She's pregnant," Richard stated proudly.

"You are?" Terrell grinned at Nancy and elbowed Richard's arm. "You dog," he said. "Boy or girl?"

"I don't know," Nancy said. She looked down before she gave the only answer she could think of. "We have male genes in our family."

"That's always nice."

“I guess.”

The men went back to fishing and Nancy returned to her thoughts. She felt even more anxious than before and a sense of dread hung over her like a net ready to fall. She wanted to go back to her sleepy town and sit on her couch all day. She wanted to go back to the night before her wedding and accept her mother’s offer. She wanted to go back to the ceremony and run from Richard, back down the aisle and out the church’s doors. She wanted to go back even a few hours to when her plans for the future seemed so clear. But she knew she had no way of going back. She sighed, then sat down on the edge of the porch, crossed her ankles and stared into the muddy water for any signs of life.

"These are nice parts," Richard said, after a few minutes of silence. "How do you like living up here?"

"Oh, I've been up here my whole life, don't know nothing else," Terrell responded. He took a swig of his beer. Nancy didn’t recognize the label on the bottle; it must have been a local brand.

"I've always wanted to live in the mountains."

"Well, it's the place to be. Even in the winter that truck of yours'll run nice."

"Yeah, I think me and Nanc should move up here as soon as we can. What do you think, Nanc?”

Nancy began to panic as she thought of her life in the mountains with Richard. She thought of his hands and the possibility of them being even dirtier. She thought of her baby being raised amongst dingy sheep and playing in fishing holes. She thought of shopping at the general store and drinking locally brewed beer. This wasn’t what she wanted. This wasn’t a white house or pastel baby socks with ruffles; it wasn’t a Dalmatian or white wine in tall glasses. But this was going to be her life. She would be stranded in the mountains with no one to talk to but a man whose hands she couldn’t even look at. Nancy was vaguely aware Terrell was looking at her, expecting to hear what she thought about living in Little Switzerland. But before she answered, Richard's fishing pole gave a jerk.

"I got one."

"Well, reel her in," Terrell said, "I'll get a net." Nancy stood up from the edge of the porch and backed away. She didn't want to touch any fish from this water.

Richard reeled in the fish at an excruciatingly slow pace. She saw the colors of the rainbow trout shine when Richard pulled it out of the muddy water and exposed it to the light. Richard hooted with joy. Terrell, with a grin as huge as his face, held the net in one hand and raised his beer with the other. The fish flapped in the mountain air.

"Raise it on up," Terrell said. Richard did and Terrell leaned down with his net and scooped up the fish, line, and leader. He dumped them on the porch before throwing the net back into the shack. "Nice big one."

Nancy backed up farther. It had been hooked in the gills and, as it flopped and struggled, it jammed the hook even farther in by trying to get away. Richard leaned down and grabbed the trout. He wrenched at the hook. "I can't get her out."

Terrell took over and ripped the hook out with one strong pull. He dropped the fish back on the porch and the two men stood over it smiling, laughing and drinking their beers. Nancy tuned them out and stared at the trout.

It had given up violent flopping and lay twitching now. Blood pooled around its gills and its exposed eye stared blankly. It was resigned to its fate. It would never be free to roam those murky waters again. Terrell would kill it, strip out its guts and hand it proudly to Richard who would fry it and eat it, right back at the Swiss Hotel. Nancy saw this fish's future so clearly, the resignation, the quiet suffering, the death.

The sheep bleated from its position at the pole, surprising her. Nancy hadn't known it could still see her; she’d forgotten it was stuck there. She felt faint.

Suddenly her thoughts, which had been as hazy and muddled as the trout’s water hole since the summer’s start, came together into one coherent idea. The realization was as sudden as a pistol firing at the beginning of a race, leaving Nancy with just one word – “Run.” But she stood still, her belly feeling full of lead.

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