by M R Field
“Crash into me.”
Dave Matthews Band
ROBBIE
The wailing that continues to holler from my throat reverberates around the room as I run towards Hazel. I can see her mother tied up next to her, and my anger builds at her for getting Hazel into this position in the first place. Hazel is no longer looking at me—her head instead faces down towards to the floor. Panic stricken, I pick up speed. I need to get to her. Now.
“No! NO!” I roar. My steps thunder faster, reaching her in a few seconds. Armed with the fire extinguisher in hand, I pull the pin and toss it, ripping the hose from its clasp and I point it towards her feet. Her head hangs forward as the flames circle perilously close to them.
Across the floor, Jerry is turning frantically, trying in vain to put out the fire that is licking up his legs, but my hose has priorities. Squeezing the trigger, again, I clamp my fingers tightly around the trigger and I aim towards her knees, hoping as the sound of the charge pushes through the hose that the foam will start to cover the fire. Her mother continues to scream beside her and I run the hose back and forth to both of them.
Time stands still as the flames fight against the foam. The long skirt Hazel wears has burnt out patches on it, and I’m relieved that she wasn’t wearing anything too flammable.
“Hazel!” I bellow. “Hazel, I’m here! Wake up!”
She doesn’t move and I panic, weaving the foam back and forth, trying to stop the fire from spreading.
A shadow appears beside me as Ty yells. “I’ve got him.” I hear a thump on the side of me. The blanket smothers the vapours, and for a moment, I’m pissed. I wanted the fucker to suffer more. She’s not waking up because of that dick.
“This fire blanket isn’t going to be enough for this dickhead,” Ty yells as he pats down the shrieking body.
More footsteps thunder behind me, but my eyes continue to focus forward as the splatters of foam begin to form layers over the fire. The stream of flames line across the front of the stage as they surge to create a ring. Not on my fucking watch. I continue to douse the flames, marginally relieved that Hazel is not coherent to see it. I want her awake, but with the wails her mother is making it would stress her out to no end—and the baby. Loud noises at my side startle me for a moment, until I realise it’s Alex using the other extinguisher to douse Jerry’s charred legs.
“I called the police. They’re sending the ambulance; I didn’t trust this fucker.” He squeezes the trigger and douses Jerry again. After a few soaks, he stands by my side and covers the other end where Hazel’s mother is.
“I’m almost done here,” I yell back. I continue to run the hose back and forth, relieved that I stopped the fire from escalating further. Looking past Patricia, I step forward to continue to send the spray past her, containing the flames that have narrowly stopped before the wall curtains.
The moment we have it all extinguished, I drop the extinguisher and charge onto the stage. Hazel’s body is still slumped forward and I touch her neck to feel for a pulse. After a few moments, a faint one is felt, and I trace the rope around her back and begin untying the knots that loop her wrist. I fiddle with the ropes until Alex is by my side with a knife from the bar. He gently places the blade in between her arms and saws the rope until it breaks free.
“I’ll get Patricia,” he calls as I frantically begin unwrapping Hazel, while keeping a hand on her shoulder. The rope drops to the ground and I bend and scoop her legs over one arm and thrust my other arm behind her back. I lift her off the chair and carry her to the edge of the stage, being mindful of the puddles of petrol that had not caught on fire.
I jump down and walk quickly towards the bar, carrying her limp body away from the burnt-out area, and lie her flat beside the bar on the floor. My heart thunders as I watch helplessly at her lifeless body.
“Hazel, Farfalla, baby please wake up.” I lightly shake her shoulder and tap the side of her face. “Please, please, don’t you leave me. I know you’re in there. I need you.” My voice cracks and I shake her shoulders again in an effort to stir her awake. Her eyes begin to flutter, and I hold my breath, watching her focus on my face. I smile down at her. “Farfalla, you scared me,” I fuss, stroking her hair away from her cheeks. “Are you
hurt?”
She stares blankly at me for a moment and blinks. She licks her lips and then
says, “My legs are aching a little.”
I look down and find her skirt in tatters, and I awkwardly crawl over to her hips. I tuck my fingers under the waistband of her skirt and move it down her legs, being mindful of any potential burns. Her legs are red in parts, but it doesn’t look too serious.
“I’ll just grab some water from the bar.” I stand quickly and go to the drinks fridge and grab a couple of waters. I rush back and open a few lids and begin pouring gently around the blotchy areas, trying not to hurt her too much more.
“Are you thirsty?” I ask as I look down at her face. She nods, and I bring the bottle in my hand to her lips and drop the other so I can lift her head to take a sip. She drinks slowly, stops, and I lower her head back to the ground.
I’m about to resume wetting her legs again, when a shriek leaves her lips and her legs shift and bend towards her swollen belly.
“Hazel?” I touch her face as her eyes squeeze together. “What’s happening?”
“Our baby …” She gasps. “Braxton Hicks keep coming. I have cramps.”
I place my hand on her belly to rub it but she smacks it away. “No, I need an ice pack.” I jump up and race behind the bar and fetch an ice pack, rushing back over to Hazel to hand it to her. She has moved slightly to her side and is muttering while rubbing her belly. I hand it to Hazel, and she grabs it and smiles at me weakly before holding it to her lower abdomen. “Robbie,” she cries, “I … I can’t feel our baby.” Tears well in her eyes as she holds the ice pack to her.
“Shh.” I stroke her cheek. “The ambulance is on its way; our baby is going to be fine.”
My heart slams in my chest as I try to keep positive for her. Her weak voice hurts me with every fibre of my being, and if I weren’t so worried about her, I’d be over where Jerry is and beating him to death with the fire extinguisher.
“No,” she cries. “Don’t touch Jerry. Don’t go near him. I can’t lose you too.”
Shit, of all the things to utter out loud.
“Shh.” I place my hands over hers on her stomach. “I promise you, I won’t go near him. I’m here with you and our baby. No one else.”
Her lip trembles as her eyes slam shut, another cramp seizing her.
“Breathe baby, breathe.” I keep my hand above hers as her legs curls up and my worried eyes trace her swollen belly. My life is here under my hands.
The back door bursts open and heavy footsteps thunder towards us. Men in blue police uniforms come charging in, while navy blue-uniformed paramedics run behind them. The group of police officers stop to briefly survey Hazel, with two of them moving past us towards Alex, who is signalling them over.
“He’s over there.” Alex points. “She’s been moved to down here as she has burns up her legs.” I stop listening as two paramedics begin examining Hazel.
“Can you tell us your name?” the blonde woman asks.
“Hazel.”
“Okay, Hazel. I’m Lee. I’m going to ask you a few questions while I give you a quick look-over.” Her fingers reach out towards Hazel’s wrists and she checks her pulse, while looking down at her watch. She opens the kit beside her and begins removing some of the instruments. The other paramedic surveys Hazel’s eyes with a small torch.
For a few minutes, they question her and check her blood pressure. In those agonising moments, I watch them touch her, then her stomach, and with each moment that passes, my blood thickens. While she lies on the ground, that fucker is a few metres away, and I want nothing more than to crack his skull open with a fire extinguisher. Or both of them.
“Do you think you can stand, Haze
l?” Lee’s voice breaks through my thoughts.
“I think so.”
I shift to help her stand by weaving my arm under her shoulder blades.
“I got you, Farfalla.” Her head slumps against my chest as we slowly rise, while the paramedics stand with their hands out, assessing our movements. A rattle sounds nearby, and the stretcher that the other two paramedics use carries Jerry, strapped in. He writhes and my body tenses, helpless to enact my revenge, as Hazel is gripping onto me.
“Hazel goes in the ambulance first, not that fucker,” I seethe.
“Sir—” the other paramedic begins.
“No!” I roar. “It’s because of that fucker that we are all here. He can rot in the gutter.”
“There are two ambulances, sir. We called another one in.”
“Oh. Where’s Patricia?”
“She is being tended to, sir,”
“Robbie, just help me walk out,” Hazel pleads. “I feel another one coming, so I want to move a little.”
We take a few steps before Hazel stops and bends forward slightly, a shrill cry escaping her lips.
“Oh my God!” she yells. Her breath leaves her lips in rapid pants. She groans as the cramp winds up and nods to continue moving. We pass my office door when she grips my arm.
“Something …” Her words are interrupted as a splash falls by her feet.
“Broken waters!” Lee yells. “Hazel, can you keep standing? I need to give you a quick check down there.”
“Yes.” Her voice is laden with shock. Lee crouches and pulls Hazel’s underwear slightly down. I make eye contact with Farfalla.
“It’s okay, Farfalla.”
“The baby …” Her lip trembles.
“Has decided it’s ready to come,” Lee finishes for her. “Okay, if you can walk, we need to get to the ambulance. Otherwise, we can grab the stretcher.”
“No, I’ll walk.” Her legs shuffle down the corridor as her arms grip onto me. I help her out through the back door and the paramedics race to the ambulance to get the back doors opened. By now, the other ambulance is gone. I know that they have Patricia to deal with, but right now, I don’t care. Hazel is my priority. Pulling out the stretcher, they lower it so Hazel can climb on. Strapping her in, they wheel her to the back of the ambulance.
“What’s happening?” Alex calls out from the bar of the club.
“Hazel’s waters have broken. Off to the hospital,” I yell back. Alex’s eyes widen as his mouth opens like a fish.
“O … kay, I’ll wait around here until everything is sorted.”
“Thanks, man.” I climb up into the cabin next to Hazel’s stretcher.
“Buckle up, please.” The other paramedic points to the seatbelt behind me. I quickly fasten it as Lee closes the back doors.
“Hazel, I’m Karen. I’m going to be putting a few monitors on you, okay? It’s not going to hurt.” She reaches behind her and retrieves a thick plastic belt. She weaves it under Hazel’s back gently, and I barely notice that the ambulance has moved. I am too engrossed in watching.
I squeeze Hazel’s hand, as leads are connected to the belt. Karen fiddles with the small monitor next to her until I hear a racing beat coming through the speakers.
“Ohh.” Karen smiles. “Seems our little one is ready to come out and say hi today.”
“What? She’s okay?” Hazel’s bottom lip trembles as tears leak from her eyes.
“The hospital will give us a better reading, but for now I can tell you that there is a strong, healthy heartbeat.”
“I thought I had lost her,” she sobs. “She wasn’t moving.”
“Often they don’t when you are transitioning. They are simply gearing up to make their star entrance.”
A smile breaks out across Hazel’s face, and it feels like an eternity since I’ve seen it. It’s short-lived though, as a fierce contraction rips through her, sending a loud groan to echo throughout the cabin.
“Your contractions are eight minutes apart. They are getting close,” Karen says. “We aren’t that far now from the hospital.”
I grip Hazel’s hand tighter and look into her happy but tired eyes. Karen grabs a white sheet and drapes it over Hazel’s legs, giving her at least a bit of modesty.
“I was thinking we should scrapbook those emails of ours.”
I watch Hazel’s eyes light up as she grins.
“We could write next to them too,” she adds. “Like how we were feeling, what it meant.”
“It might make bubs gag.” I laugh.
“That’s the role of parents,” she murmurs, rubbing her stomach above the belt. “We are genetically predisposed to ridicule and embarrass our children—while also loving them unconditionally.”
“Sounds good to me.”
The ambulance pulls up to a halt, and I unclip my seatbelt. After a short moment, the back door wrenches open. Lee pulls the end of the stretcher out and Karen follows closely behind, all the while, I check on Hazel’s face as she puffs through more piercing contractions. I jump out and follow alongside Hazel through the ambulance only emergency doors.
“Baby, anything I can do?” I puff next to her as they push her down the brightly lit foyer at the side of the main entrance. For a moment, Karen and Lee speak to the triage nurse, while I hold Hazel’s hand in an effort to calm her.
“Just be here. Don’t leave me,” she pants in little huffs.
“Never.”
The stretcher resumes its path towards the double doors at the back of the emergency station.
“I can get a heat pack? Or some ice? Isn’t that what the instructor said?” I’m mumbling, but I don’t care. The paramedics charge through the double doors and continue along the narrow pathway, passing closed curtains that cover other emergency patients. Hazel’s hand grips mine, and I look down quickly to see her face scrunching up.
“You’re doing so well, Farfalla. Work through it. Every contraction brings us closer to little one.”
“I know,” she groans painfully. “It hurts. It hurts so bad.” Her voice croaks as tears cascade down the side of her face. I’m helpless, watching the woman I love suffer.
The paramedics push the stretcher down and around corridors until after an eternity, we are finally at the birthing suites. They bring Hazel into the end room and a midwife enters with a welcoming grin.
“Your doctor is on his way,” she bustles as she sets up the heart -rate machine. Right now, I don’t feel overly welcoming towards her. Considering how tight Hazel is gripping my hand, I’m surprised it’s still attached.
“Fuck, my hand is sore,” I grumble as I shake it quickly. Hazel’s gaze turns nuclear as she presses her lips together tightly. Shit. “Sorry, baby. I’ll shut up now.” I cringe, watching her slice me up with her angry eyes.
After a quick examination, the paramedics help her move to the birthing bed, and the midwife reaches out and hands her a white tube which I come to know as the nectar of the gods. Hazel grimaces, her face too pained to smile as she sucks on the gas and more contradictions begin to wave through, one after another. She stands with her hands down, facing the bed, her head bent. I watch in horror as her back arches and another contraction follows, hot on the heels of the previous one.
Time passes as each contraction continues to wreak havoc over Hazel’s body. I rub her back as her teeth hold onto the tube. She sucks in a breath to help ease the pain, but whimpers still leave her lips.
“Can you give her something stronger?” I yell, rubbing her back. “I think she needs stronger.”
“She’s too far along.” The midwife walks to her other side, calm, as if my fucking woman in not having her body torn apart. She is faces Hazel. “She can do this. Very soon, we are going to see that baby of yours.” She holds eye contact with Hazel and I watch their gazes lock. “The doctor will be here shortly.”
Hazel closes her eyes briefly in relief until she haunches her back.
“I want to get on the bed,” she groans.
&nb
sp; “Well, let’s get her on there,” the midwife says. “Her body is telling her what it wants.”
We move her as swiftly as possible between contractions. Hazel leans against the stacked pillows, her cheeks hollowing with each breath she inhales on the rattling tube. Her legs are raised in the stirrups as I clasp her hand as tears continue to soak her reddened cheeks.
The door behind me opens and finally our doctor enters. It takes all my willpower not to throttle him for keeping us waiting.
“Well, it looks like someone wanted to come a little early,” our doctor jokes, clearly missing the vibe of annoyance that permeates throughout the room. Mainly from me. Did someone not brief this numbnut about what we’d been through already today?
He rolls on a pair of gloves and bends forward to examine Hazel. “Right, you are fully dilated Hazel. If you feel the need to push, just wait until you contract. Do not push any other time.”
Her eyes widen in shock as her teeth gnaw down onto the tube. Her panic-stricken face turns to mine as she says through the muffled tube, “I don’t know if I can do this.” Her chest heaves and her head suddenly flies back with the ripping of another contraction.
“Hazel.” I rub her arm, her head lowers until her tired, yet beautiful emerald eyes stare into mine. “You can do this, and you will.” She sighs as I watch her teeth saw more into the tube. “You ready?”
“Yes,” she husks through the tube.
“Let’s do this,” I encourage, holding her hand. “Squeeze my hand, baby, and let’s welcome our baby. Time to see Little One.”
“Okay, Hazel, push when you feel a—” The midwife barely finishes her sentence when a powerful scream leaves Hazel’s lips as she pushes with all her strength. My girl, who in this moment, has never made me feel more proud.
“There’s the head! Excellent work, Hazel. On the next one, I want you to push harder. Robbie, did you want to come down here?”
I look at Hazel, whose grip on my fingers tightens.