Vigil

by Cecilia Samartin

  “I see it in the way he looks at you. It’s as though the love in his heart is flooding his soul and flowing out of his eyes.”

  Hearing this, Lillian started to laugh. “My goodness, Ana. You may know more about romance than you think.”

  As we walked along, I realized that I felt not only like a friend, but like the member of a family again. And as the days and weeks passed, memories of my other life and family began to ease their way back into my mind, sometimes flooding me with so many emotions and images that on several occasions I awoke confused about where I was. I could’ve sworn that I’d been gently rocking in my hammock and that the scent of the jungle was all around me, that Mama was asleep next to me and that I could hear my cousin Carlitos snoring nearby.

  When I was a child and turned to Sister Josepha for comfort, she told me that only time could heal the wounds of the heart and that the deeper the wounds, the more time needed to pass. She also said that sometimes these wounds were so deep that no amount of time would ever heal them and only God’s infinite love could offer hope. I surmised that with the years that had passed and God’s grace to aid the process, my heart had finally healed enough to make me start remembering.

  A few nights later, I heard a frantic knock on my bedroom door and bolted upright in bed, worried that something might be wrong with Teddy. And then I heard Mr. Trellis calling my name on the other side of the door, which caused my pulse to race.

  “Ana, wake up,” he said.

  He opened the door and I held my blankets up around my chin, wondering what would bring him to my room in the middle of the night. In the dim light I saw that he was dressed in blue jeans and that his shirt was hanging out. “Lillian needs you,” he said.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked, careful to pull my nightdress down around my thighs as I got out of bed.

  “Just get downstairs as soon as you can,” he said abruptly, while averting his eyes.

  “I’ll let Millie know, in case Teddy wakes up.”

  “I’ve already done that,” Mr. Trellis said. “And hurry. Lillian delivers very quickly.”

  I threw on my clothes and rushed downstairs to find Lillian waiting for me at the back door while Mr. Trellis pulled the car around. Her face was pale and twisted in pain, and when I took her hand, she squeezed down hard, nearly breaking my bones. “It’s worse than before,” she said, panting after the contraction had passed. “They say you forget the pain, and they’re right. I don’t remember it ever being this bad.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be so bad once you get to the hospital,” I said, starting to shake, but I tried to calm myself, not wanting to add to her anxiety.

  “Thank God you’re here,” Lillian said, laying her head on my shoulder. “I feel such peace when you’re near.”

  Mr. Trellis helped Lillian into the front seat while I scrambled into the back, and we took off. I’d never been in such a fast-moving vehicle in all my life. Traveling through the dead of night as we were, I felt like an astronaut pitching through infinite space, and all the while Lillian moaned and started to scream as another contraction started. I prayed with all my heart that she not deliver in the car. “Oh please, God, don’t let her give birth in the car. I won’t know what to do. Please, God.”

  Thankfully, my prayers were answered, and the medical personnel were waiting for us with a wheelchair in front of the hospital. They quickly wheeled Lillian up to the maternity ward as Mr. Trellis and I followed close behind them. His eyes were bright and shiny and his cheeks were flush, reminding me of how Teddy looked after a bad dream.

  Once in the delivery room, Lillian continued to scream as the doctor examined her, and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why they didn’t give her something for the pain. Women in my village had always screamed as though they were being skinned alive, but this was a modern hospital, so I expected that things would be different here. I held my breath and held her hand, trying to remain composed and encouraging for her sake.

  Mr. Trellis held her other hand and placed a cool compress on her forehead. He was trying his best to remain calm too, but when the nurse and other technicians came in and out of the room, I noticed him eyeing them with increasing disdain.

  When her primary nurse came in to take her blood pressure for the third time, he was unable to contain himself any longer. “Can’t you give her something for the pain? It’s getting worse.”

  “It’s too late for that, Mr. Trellis,” the nurse replied curtly. “We can’t give the mother anything when she’s so advanced in her labor. It’s not good for the baby.”

  Mr. Trellis’s face was getting redder by the second. “There must be something you can do for her. Where is her doctor? Why isn’t he here yet?”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” the nurse said, and she left just as Lillian released another bloodcurdling scream that caused Mr. Trellis and me both to jump. She was writhing in agony and this time I was certain that she wouldn’t survive. Mr. Trellis’s previously flushed face had turned white, but he didn’t leave her side. How different from the men in my village who left their women to give birth while they got drunk with the other men in the square. Sometimes it took the new father more time to recover from his hangover than it took the mother to recover from childbirth.

  Listening to Lillian’s groans, I became lost in the furrow between Mr. Trellis’s brow and the drops of perspiration gathering along his upper lip, and I remembered that I had experienced this before in another life and another time. I closed my eyes and Lillian’s screams became Tía Juana’s screams that could be heard from the banks of the river, prompting Carlitos and me to look up from our play. Carlitos immediately turned back to the pile of rocks he’d been collecting, knowing that nothing would be required of him as his new little brother or sister entered the world. I was too frightened by the sound of Tía Juana’s wailing to continue playing. I dropped the stones I held to the ground and waited and hoped that it was not as I feared. Perhaps my aunt was merely upset that a dog had defecated outside the door. One time after she’d stepped into a pile of shit, she wailed so loudly that I was certain someone had stabbed her in the heart.

  But when I heard the moaning again, I had no doubt that Tía Juana was finally in labor. Mama called for me and I ran back to our hut without a word to Carlitos. Just as I ducked into the door, I turned to see him watching me, his eyes wide with wonder and fear. I felt exalted and strangely powerful to be crossing this mysterious feminine threshold for the first time, but I had no idea of the horror this complete initiation would bring.

  The first thing I saw when I entered the darkened hut was Tía Juana writhing on a blanket on the floor, naked to the waist, with her legs spread open as the older midwife, Mama, and two other neighbors kneeled next to her.

  “Ana, bring me the blanket on the table,” Mama said to me, not looking up. I gave her the blanket and she placed it under Tía Juana’s head. Tía Juana’s face was pale and dripping with sweat. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets and her jaw was clenched so tightly that I could hear her teeth grinding, certain that they would loosen and that before long she’d be spitting them out one by one.

  The women were speaking in hushed tones as Tía Juana moaned and wailed. At times she arched her back off the ground and her entire body shuddered. Mama had recently told me that God intended women to suffer during childbirth so that they would love their children more deeply. I didn’t understand this connection, but Mama wasn’t able to explain it any better. And she said that because I’d just started menstruating, she wanted me to be present when Tía Juana had her baby so that I would begin to understand the commitment and suffering children brought to a woman’s life.

  She directed me to sit near Tía Juana’s feet, and from that vantage point I was able to see the oozing cleft between her legs. With every scream and heave of her body, it grew wider and wetter, until finally a thick dribble of blood and water began to flow. Then all at once she released a watery stool that filled the little hut
with such a foul odor I nearly fainted. Mama used a rag to clean up the mess and then she tossed it to me, saying, “Don’t let the dogs get to it. I’m running out of rags.”

  Not knowing what else to do, I placed the stinking bundle just outside the door. If the dogs got to it, I’d rip up my own blanket for rags, anything to avoid getting near it again. By the time I returned to my place at Tía Juana’s feet, my head was spinning and my stomach was turning somersaults. Some invisible and merciless force was stretching her open until the space between her legs had grown to ten times the size it had been moments earlier. Unable to stand it, I wrenched my eyes away from the gruesome sight. And then I heard a strange gurgling sound coming from deep down in Tía Juana’s throat as though she were drowning, and I turned to see just as the midwife separated the torn layers of flesh from between Tía Juana’s legs to reveal a bloody mass of hair and congealed pus that looked to me like a decomposing animal. Tía Juana wept and wailed and writhed some more as she pushed and pushed. The two women held her legs while Mama pressed down on Tía Juana’s enormous belly. The midwife then plunged her bloody fingers into Tía Juana’s crotch, not at all deterred by her desperate screams and pleas to stop. And then a great shock of fluid sprouted out of her like a fountain, covering me with blood and a thick, smelly fluid. I couldn’t help myself, I screamed even more loudly than Tía Juana and ran out of the hut as fast as I could. I ran directly to the river, where Carlitos was still working on his rock structure, and I dove into the river’s muddy waters. Carlitos watched me with a mixture of shock and curiosity, but he didn’t ask what happened. I think he was afraid to know, and I was glad because I didn’t have the words to describe it.

  Later that afternoon when I returned to the hut, all was quiet and the new baby lay sleeping quietly next to Tía Juana in her hammock. Mama was at her sewing machine and I could tell by the long look she gave me that she was disappointed in me.

  “I’m sorry I ran away, Mama,” I whispered so as not to wake Tía Juana and her baby.

  She nodded and turned back to her sewing. “Seeing the birth of a child will give you strength when your time comes, and it will also remind you to wait until the time is right.”

  I shook my head adamantly. “That’s okay because today I decided that I’m never going to be a mother.”

  Mama’s eyebrows came together. “Really? Why not?”

  I was surprised that she needed to ask, but I answered her anyway. “Because I don’t want to scream in pain and bleed between my legs and feel my body splitting apart when the baby comes out.”

  Mama set her sewing aside. “What are you going to do if you fall in love with a man who wants to have children? What are you going to tell him?”

  I crossed my arms. “I’ll tell him that if he really loves me, then I should be enough for him.”

  At this Mama laughed out loud, causing Tía Juana to stir and mumble in her sleep. Then she whispered, “If you ever find this man, throw your arms around him and never let go. Of course, you’ll discover that you were dreaming and that the man in your arms is your own pillow.” She waved a dismissive hand and turned back to her sewing. “Such a man doesn’t exist, mija.”

  I wondered if Mama was right as I observed Mr. Trellis’s frown deepen after Lillian squeezed down on his hand harder than before. Ms. Lillian squeezed my hand as well, and although I tried not to, this time I grimaced in pain. The nurse, who’d gone for the doctor before, was watching Mr. Trellis with certain interest, while the doctor, a small, bearded man, kept disappearing between the canopy of sheets over Lillian’s parted knees. Deciding earlier that the baby was no longer at risk, he’d administered an anesthetic which had helped take the edge off Lillian’s labor pains, but it was apparent that his calm demeanor wasn’t easily disturbed by the agony of his patients. In fact, he appeared to be almost bored as he ducked in and out from between Lillian’s legs.

  “Would you like to see the crown?” he asked Mr. Trellis, who declined with a furtive shake of his head.

  The doctor turned to me next. “How about you?

  The thought of looking between Ms. Lillian’s legs horrified me for many reasons, and I was about to decline as well when I was startled by a loud crash. And when I looked up, Mr. Trellis was gone.

  “Yep, just like I thought,” the nurse said, shaking her head. “They’re never as tough as they seem.” And she went to attend to Mr. Trellis, who was lying on the floor on his back with his eyes closed as if he’d just decided to take a quick nap. Stripped of his gruff defenses, he looked as vulnerable as a child, and I envied the nurse as she knelt beside him to place a pillow under his head. She then produced a tube of something from her pocket, and wafted it under his nose. Mr. Trellis came to almost immediately, blinking his eyes in a bewildered manner just as Teddy did when he was startled awake.

  Lillian had just recovered from a strong contraction, but when she realized what had happened, she started to laugh. “Oh, Adam, you’re so funny. You actually fainted. Isn’t he funny, Ana?”

  I wasn’t sure what to do or say. I could see from the wounded look in his eyes that Mr. Trellis was quite humiliated and that he desperately wanted to get up off the floor. “Can you help me up?” he asked the nurse.

  “I don’t know. You’re a pretty big guy,” she said, chuckling. “And we can’t have you falling all over the place. I think we’ll all be safer if you stay put for a while.”

  “Please,” he said, his eyes pleading with her.

  I managed to release my hand from Lillian’s grip and knelt down to help. Mr. Trellis draped one arm over each of our shoulders. He was heavier than I expected, and his torso was solid and unforgiving against me, but between the nurse and me, we managed to get him to the chair, where he surrendered a small smile of gratitude.

  A few minutes later, baby Jessica entered the world, and when the doctor held her up from beneath the sheet for her parents to admire, I was speechless with awe at the writhing little creature. I helped the nurse count her tiny fingers and toes and noted for the first time the sweet dimples on her chubby cheeks. When she bellowed with the full strength of her lungs, I was amazed at what a loud sound such a small being could make.

  Mr. Trellis stood nearby, but not too close, and gazed at his new baby daughter as though he were looking into the face of the Almighty.

  “She’s so beautiful,” he muttered.

  The nurse then held the baby up so that we might see her more clearly, but I was unable to look away from Mr. Trellis’s face. The love pouring out from his eyes was like the sunrise, and it held me spellbound.

  Adam turned to his grown daughter, his eye lids fluttering. “Who’s here?” he asked.

  “It’s me, Daddy,” Jessie replied softly while swallowing her tears.

  “Who?” he asked, his eyes still closed.

  “It’s Jessie, your daughter,” she answered in a stronger voice.

  He opened his eyes and his face broke into a brilliant smile. His pale skin became infused by a peachy glow, and his entire body appeared to strengthen. “Jessie,” he whispered, “how long have you been here?”

  “Not long.”

  He struggled to sit up and Ana quickly helped him raise the bed until he was comfortable, and then she stepped back.

  “You’re so…beautiful,” he said.

  Jessie laughed weakly and raked her uncombed hair back with her fingers. “If you say so, Daddy.”

  He coughed and swallowed hard. Ana brought a cup of water to his lips and he took a small sip. Turning to his daughter, he said, “Now, tell me about…what’s his name?”

  Jessie laughed, but this time with the typical pleasure she exuded when her father teased her. “Come on, Daddy, you know his name.”

  “No, I swear,” he said, looking to Ana for validation. “I’m forgetting everything these days, isn’t it true, Ana?”

  “Some things,” Ana returned with a teasing smile of her own. But she was amazed by his sudden transformation.

  �
�His name is Jacob, Daddy,” Jessie said, rolling her eyes.

  “Jacob Daddy,” Adam repeated with a baffled expression. “That’s a very strange name.”

  “No, just Jacob, Daddy,” Jessie said, giving her father a playful poke in the arm. “I mean Jacob, just Jacob.”

  “Jacob Just, or Just Jacob?” Adam asked, looking more perplexed than before.

  Jessie giggled and covered her face, just as she did when she was three years old. “Oh, Daddy,” she said, shaking her head.

  Adam was delighted by his daughter’s predictable reaction and then his smile faded. “Has Teddy met him?” he asked.

  “Not yet,” she replied, sobering up at the mention of her brother’s name. “Nobody has.”

  Adam’s face slackened just a bit. “Have you spoken with your brother lately?”

  “I spoke with him just yesterday, but you know Teddy—he doesn’t like talking on the phone very much.”

  Adam closed his eyes and sank back into his pillows, his previous exuberance deflating with every second that passed.

  Jessie glanced back at Ana, who gave her an encouraging nod. “But he sounds well, and…and he said that he’s coming to see you, Daddy.”

  Adam opened his eyes and there was a glint of hopefulness beyond the fatigue. “Is he?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  His chest expanded as he took a deep breath and then he raised his head to look at his daughter. “How’s that accounting class coming along?” he asked.

  “Please don’t bring that up again. I’m this close to dropping it,” Jessie said, pinching the air with her thumb and forefinger.

  “Accounting is easy,” he said.

  “Easy for you, but not for me.”

  Satisfied that all was going well, Ana slipped out of the room intent on a cup of tea, but decided to linger in the corridor to enjoy the happy sound of their conversation that was infinitely more soothing than a cup of tea. As she stood outside the door, her eyes rested on the portrait hanging before her. In it, Lillian was dressed in white with both of her children nestled at her feet. It was a charming picture, but Ana thought the painter hadn’t succeeded in capturing the true essence of Lillian’s character. He’d chosen to depict her as a matron and had failed to see beyond the angelic perfection of her features, the flawless complexion and graceful posture. She was a lady to be sure, but a lady ruled by complex motivations and lurid desires that Ana would never completely understand.