Sara socalong's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Sara Socalong walked into the square at noon with a pocket full of old tokens and a man's name she would not say out loud. Her belly led the way. Purple skin, glowing eyes, a stomach she had grown over six months of bad food and then decided to keep. The man she wanted had looked at her belly before her face. Scarlett wanted him too. Today Sara meant to settle which one of them he came home to. The fountain at the center of the square threw bright water in slow arcs. Men gathered there at lunch to eat and talk. Sara picked her spot on the rim and sat. She did not call out. She lifted the hem of her shirt an inch, rested both hands on the curve of her belly, and waited. One man looked. Then two. Then a small crowd drifted over from the food stalls. "Go on," she said to the closest one. "It doesn't bite." He laughed and put his palm flat on her stomach. Sara held still, kept her hands quiet at her sides, and let a long, low burp roll out of her throat. The man jumped, then laughed harder. The others pressed closer. She burped again, smaller, sharper, on cue. A cheer went up. She reached into her pocket and pressed a worn metal token into the laughing man's hand. "Keepsake," she said. "So you remember who showed you." He turned it in his fingers like it meant something. Across the square, Scarlett sat alone on a wooden bench with her arms crossed over her own belly. Tall, red-skinned, black hair pulled back. She did not move. She watched Sara hand out a second token, then a third. She watched the man she wanted step out of the crowd and join the ring at the fountain. He came right up to Sara. He did not look at her face first this time either. He put his hand on her belly without asking. Sara let the burp come up slow, right against his palm. He did not pull back. He laughed, loud, and the crowd laughed with him. Sara pressed a token into his free hand and closed his fingers around it. "Yours," she said. He nodded once and did not let go of her belly. Scarlett stood up from the bench. She walked across the square in the steady, owning way Sara had spent a week copying in her kitchen. She stopped at the edge of the ring, looked at the man's hand on Sara's stomach, and looked at the token in his fist. "Cute trick," she said. Her mouth stayed a hard line after. Sara smiled and burped once more, soft, just for her. Scarlett turned and walked back the way she came. The man stayed.