by Doug Kelly
From outside the house, they heard a familiar voice yell, “It’s David Taylor. Open the door!”
“Sounds desperate,” said Kevin.
“Maybe he got another deer,” added Dylan.
Mary yelled across the room, “It’s freezing out there. Just open the door for him!”
“Alright, alright,” Dylan responded. In his two layers of socks, he shuffled silently across the hardwood floor to the front door.
Dylan cracked the door. “What is it? Another deer?” He felt the cold air hit his eyes, and it made him squint. David’s heavy breathing created a vapor that condensed in the cold air. He was not dressed for the weather, only wearing an unzipped jacket. He carried something swaddled in a blanket, held close to his chest. Past him, the bright moonlight reflected off the snow with an iridescent intensity.
David panted anxiously. “No, no, no, it’s my wife.” He took a deep gulp of cold air, and it hurt his lungs.
Kevin, Mary, and Ruth went to the door and huddled behind Dylan.
“Is she alright?” asked Kevin.
Mary found her husband’s hand and gripped it tightly.
“Yes…I mean no…I don’t know…it’s coming. I need help!”
Dylan opened the door, pulled David inside by his loose jacket, and quickly shut the door. David dropped the hood of his jacket to his shoulders, exposing the panic in his eyes.
“Take a breath and calm down,” said Dylan. “What is it?”
David drew in a deep breath.
“It’s the baby, isn’t it?” asked Mary. She clutched her hand tightly again into Kevin’s, and he could feel her fingernails this time.
David exhaled and said, cathartically, “Yes.”
“Then what are you doing here?” Dylan asked, with a scolding tone.
David looked at the bundle in his arms. “Linda Foster is with my wife. This is her baby. We need someone to watch him.”
Mary gasped when she realized that the blanket held a sleeping infant. “Give him to me!” Mary took the bundle, sat on the couch, and held the baby close to her body. Then she covered herself and the baby with a blanket as she gently rocked the child.
When Mary moved away, David saw that Ruth had been behind her. She was short, petite, and quiet as a shadow. He had had no idea that she was standing there. The two strangers’ eyes met, and she recognized the look on his face. It was desperation.
“You don’t need us,” said Dylan.
“I need Joel,” proclaimed David. “I thought I should check here first before I went all the way to his house.”
“He’s not here, but I know where he is.” Dylan opened the door and started to push David back outside. “We’ll get someone to watch Linda’s baby. You get home. Go back to your wife.” David was on the front porch now, his back to the winter landscape.
“Will you get Joel for me? I need him.”
“You need Joel and his wife. She’s a nurse,” Dylan reminded him.
David started to shiver.
“Go! You’re going to freeze to death.”
David turned and jogged back to his house. As a shortcut home, he went through the yards of his neighborhood and soon found himself walking across his own lawn toward the rear of his home. In an undisturbed area in the corner of his backyard, he saw where the newly fallen snow domed over his first child’s grave. Powdery snow balanced on the cross his wife had placed by the mounded tomb. He averted his eyes, and a lump came to his throat. He swallowed hard, and the knot travelled to his stomach. A tear slid down his cheek. He wiped it away and went inside to hear his wife screaming with labor pains.
Dylan pulled the front door shut and walked with the candle to the dining room table. He sat down, pushed the candle to the center of the table, and leaned the side of his head onto one hand. “I’m going to get Joel and his wife. Who else wants to go to David’s house and help?”
Mary and Ruth raised their hands.
Kevin shook his head. “I don’t think I can do anything for them, but I can stay here and watch your kids.”
“Maybe Joel’s children, too?” Dylan asked.
“Of course, if that helps.”
“I’m sure it will.” Dylan put on his heavy winter coat and a knit cap, tucked his hair behind his ears, and went to get Joel and Kim.
Dylan walked briskly through the cold, still air. He stopped in front of Joel’s house and noticed the glow of a kerosene lamp coming through their living room window. Dylan knocked on the door, then stepped back so they could see him from their window. The glow of the kerosene lamp diminished when they turned it down, and he saw Kim peek out the window. He waved, then heard her say, “It’s Dylan.”
Joel opened the door. “Get inside.”
Joel and Kim wore matching sweatshirts and each had a blanket draped over their shoulders.
“So, what can I do for you?” asked Joel. His wife stood beside him.
“It’s not me. Amy Taylor is in labor. David just came to our house. Linda Foster is staying with them. She’s helping, but they really need your help.” Dylan looked at Kim. “Both of you.”
“Dylan, I’m not a doctor anymore.” He felt a disapproving nudge from his wife.
“That’s a crock of shit.” Dylan frowned. “We talked about this. You said you were going to help.”
“What can I do? Give them a false sense of hope?”
Joel felt his wife give him a sharp pinch on his arm. “You took an oath, dear.”
“They need you more than me.” Joel crossed his arms and hid them under the blanket, expecting another pinch from his wife. “You’ve done this before. Remember, on your mission in South America.”
“We’re both going,” ordered Kim.
Joel shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “The children?”
“Kevin is watching mine,” said Dylan. “Bring them over to my house.”
Joel looked at his wife. She nodded.
“Alright, we’ll be right over. I’ll meet you at your house.”
Joel closed the door behind Dylan.
“Kim?”
“Don’t make any more excuses. Get what you need, and let’s go. She needs help.”
“But—”
“That’s enough. I’m going upstairs to see if I can find any old baby blankets. Get the children. We are leaving.”
Joel slowly turned his head toward the door.
“Now!”
“Okay.”
The Hales took their three sons, Aaron, Jarod, and Levi, to Dylan’s house. With sleeping bags under their arms, the children disappeared down the basement stairs with Kevin.
The air was cold and still on the way to the Taylor’s home. Joel set the pace with his long legs, and Dylan walked briskly to keep up. Joel carried a large kerosene lantern in one hand. Mary, Kim, and Ruth, walked shoulder to shoulder several paces behind the men. The women talked amongst themselves, exchanging experiences and ideas. Kim was in the middle, carrying some small knit caps wrapped in baby blankets. They were mementoes from the births of her three children. Although she was very fond of these souvenirs, she was even happier to give them to a friend in need.
The group unknowingly followed David’s tracks to the backyard of his home. Dylan and Joel went inside without knocking. Kim stopped the women on the concrete patio as the backdoor shut behind the men.
Kim pointed to a barbeque grill’s metal grate that rested on concrete blocks with charred wood from an old fire lying in a small pile underneath.
“We’ll need a fire to boil water,” said Kim.
Ruth brushed snow from the top of a small pile of wood. “We should have enough wood.”
“Let’s go inside and find a steel pot and clean water,” Kim suggested.
Mary found a deep stainless steel pot on the countertop. She poured water from a bucket of melted snow into the pot, took the pot outside, and sat it on the metal grid.
Ruth blindly felt in each drawer for matches or a lighter. “I can’t find anything to start a fi
re,” she said.
“Keep looking,” said Kim. “Mary and I will go check on Amy.”
Ruth nodded in the darkness.
Kim and Mary followed the sound of Amy’s low, anxious moans to the first floor bedroom. Dylan stood uncomfortably outside the bedroom door.
“Dylan?” asked Kim.
“Yes.”
“We need to boil some water, but Ruth is not having any luck finding matches or a lighter to start the fire. Can you help her on the patio?”
“Say no more.” Dylan felt uncomfortable in the presence of a laboring woman and was relieved to find an excuse to remove himself from her agonized moans.
In the kitchen, Dylan heard a cabinet door shut with a tone of frustration.
“Need any help?” offered Dylan.
“Can you help me start a fire?” asked Ruth.
Dylan removed a lighter from his pocket and held it in a beam of moonlight for her to see. “Your wish is my command.”
Ruth opened the backdoor. “After you.”
On the concrete patio, Dylan brushed the old, charred wood out of the way to make room for fresh wood and a new fire. He used his knife to create thin wood shavings, and then he placed thin pieces of wood, like a pyramid, around the kindling. He put his lighter to the tinder and flicked it. A few sparks flew, but there was no flame. He held the clear plastic lighter up to the full moon and light shone through. It was empty.
“Damn it!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Lighter’s empty.”
Ruth bit her lip. “What now?”
“Just give me a second.”
Dylan went into the house and found the clothes dryer. He removed the lint trap, scooped out a handful of lint, and returned outside.
“What is it?” asked Ruth.
“Clothes dryer lint. Watch it burn.”
Dylan tucked the ball of lint under the wood shavings. He flicked the lighter a few times, and the lint caught the sparks. It flamed quickly, catching the wood shavings on fire, which in turn brought the small pieces of wood to a blaze. Dylan leaned a small log across it all and slowly fanned it until the log took the flame, too.
“Where did you learn to do that?” asked Ruth.
“Boy Scouts.”
“You were a Boy Scout?”
“No, that was a joke.” Dylan smirked. “I’ve been a computer nerd all my life.”
“You don’t look like a computer nerd.”
Dylan chuckled.
“And you don’t look like a farmer.”
The smoke from the fire rose straight up and enveloped the pot of water. Dylan placed another small log on the fire and gestured for Ruth to come inside.
They went to the living room. A small candle flickered on the mantle of a fake fireplace, and another on a small table in front of a large picture window. The yellow flame reflected off the glass. The master bedroom, where Amy and the others were, was just down a short hallway near the living room. Dylan removed his coat and put it on a chair. Ruth did the same. She stood by the window and caught her reflection in it, like a full-length mirror. She removed her knit hat and watched the reflection of her long, brown hair as it dropped past her shoulders to the middle of her back. She looked past her reflection and saw Dylan staring at her in the candle light. She shyly looked away, her blush hidden in the darkness.
“I need to make myself useful now,” said Ruth.
“I wish I could help her, but I don’t think there’s anything I can do.”
“Come on, then.” Her hand pushed into the center of his back. “See if Joel or David need anything.”
Ruth entered the bedroom and approached Amy. Dylan stopped at the threshold. Amy sat at the edge of the bed with her back to the door. She wore a white terrycloth robe and a blanket draped over her shoulders, like a shawl. Mary and Ruth sat on either side of Amy, each rubbing her back with gentle hands as she moaned.
Linda Foster leaned against the wall in a corner of the room. Fatigued, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall, too. Her hair had grown down to her shoulders. Still blonde at the ends, the black roots had grown to half the length of her hair. She had spent the entire day with Amy, giving her encouragement and support. She was hungry and tired, her body running only on adrenaline.
Kim sat on a chair in front of Amy and offered words of encouragement. Amy bent forward slightly, legs wide, and she circled her swollen abdomen with both nervous hands.
Joel and David stood next to each other at the end of the bed, out of Amy’s view. Joel uncrossed his arms and rubbed his chin, looking at the laboring woman with deep consternation. David’s eyes passed from his wife to Joel and back, as if he was looking for the exact moment a great revelation would occur. The steady light of the kerosene lamp cast an unnatural yellow glow across the room.
Amy’s hands stopped rubbing circles on her abdomen. Her teeth clenched as she grimaced from a painful contraction.
“Stronger this time?” asked Kim.
“Yes,” answered Amy, then she moaned.
“Do you want to try and walk around? Maybe that would help?” asked Kim.
“Yes, I need a hand.”
Mary and Ruth each put a forearm under Amy’s armpits and helped her stand. They stood close to her as she paced the room. She looked up once at her husband and Joel. Her face contorted with pain and fear. David looked away. He felt helpless. Joel took a few long strides to the door and stood in the hallway with Dylan.
“Hey, Doc,” said Dylan, trying to speak softly. “How’s it going?”
“You shouldn’t call me that.”
“I didn’t mean anything by saying that.”
“I understand.” Joel nervously cleared his throat. “Before all this happened, when I had support staff and modern resources, people would look at me and expect me to perform miracles. Patients and their families alike. But the truth is, I can’t perform medical miracles and people don’t want to accept that. They want to think I’m perfect and that I have the answer and a special machine for everything.” Joel leaned forward to peek back into the room. “What allowed me to be a physician and a surgeon is gone, obliterated. If people keep thinking of me as a doctor, I’m going to disappoint them. That’s all I’m saying.”
From the bedroom, they heard a sharp cry erupt from Amy’s throat, then abruptly stop.
“Joel!” cried Kim.
“I have to go.” Joel wore a fake smile as he entered the room, continuing to doubt the efficacy of his presence.
Amy bent over the side of the bed and supported the weight of her swollen body on the palms of her hands while she waited for the next wave of pain. She screamed again with the next sharp contraction. Amy went to her knees, buried her face into the bed sheets, and screamed again. The contractions were growing in intensity and frequency.
All four women circled her. Kim took charge as expected. “Stronger now?” asked Kim.
“Yes!”
“Does it hurt worse than last time?”
Amy pressed her face into the bed sheets. With a muffled voice, she said, “Yes!” Another strong contraction seized her body, and she gasped for air when it ended.
“The contractions are closer together,” Kim said softly. “We need to get her on the bed.”
The women helped her lie down. They pulled on the sheet underneath her so they could move her to the center of the bed. Kim reached under Amy’s robe and put her cold palm on the distended abdomen. She felt the baby kicking.
“The baby’s kicking. It won’t be long now,” said Kim, as she tried to make eye contact and smile. It was all she could offer to soothe her tension.
“I’m so thirsty.” Another contraction took her breath away, and she clenched her teeth. After it subsided she asked, “Can I have a drink of water?”
“Of course you can.” Kim looked up and nodded at Linda, and Linda left the room to get her a glass of water.
Amy’s lips were cracked and dry. She ran her tongue across them a
nd said, “I didn’t think I was supposed to drink any water before—”
Another contraction seized her, and her face twisted with pain. Kim held her hand and waited for it to stop.
“Before what?” Kim asked.
“Before the baby came.”
“Why do you say that?”
“They didn’t let me last time. They told me not to eat or drink anything.”
Kim’s face went pale. She looked at the women’s abdomen, and her mind began to race. She turned her head quickly toward the men and then looked at the door. They understood to leave and closed the door behind them. Kim opened Amy’s robe and peered directly below Amy’s navel. She saw an old horizontal incision and put a finger on it. Moving her finger across the old wound, she felt the thin line of tough scar tissue under her finger. Her heart sank. Oh no, she had surgery last time.
“I’m going to check on that glass of water,” said Kim as she closed Amy’s robe and put a blanket on her to keep her warm.
Kim hurried into the hallway. Dylan and Joel were standing there. With fear and anger in her eyes, Kim drove a stiff index finger into her husband’s chest.
“Her last child was delivered by cesarean, and you knew that!”
“What’s going on?” asked Dylan.
“They took the last one by C-section for a reason,” said Joel. “Once they do that, usually there is no going back.”
“You mean—”
“I mean, she needs surgery, and that is not going to happen.”
“Kim! Joel! Come back in here!” cried Mary.
Kim rushed to the side of the bed. David and Linda were close behind. David spilled half the cup of water as he ran back to the bedroom.
“She thinks her water broke,” said Mary.
“That’s a good sign, Amy. We’re moving right along.” Kim tried to smile, but was not sure if it was convincing. She held Amy’s head up and tipped the cup of water to her dry lips. Amy took a few sips, and then put her head back on the pillow.