Punchline

by Jacqueline Diamond

  Belle reached out the window and shook hands with the guide. “Glad to meet you. I’m Belle Martens.”

  “Bit of rough weather ahead.” Bunny squinted at the clouds. “But hey, it keeps the sissies out, right?”

  Anita uttered a choking sound.

  “I guess everybody else is late.” Belle gave the guide a weak smile. “We’ve got about a hundred signed up.”

  “Some people get scared off pretty easily,” said Bunny.

  “Me,” volunteered Janie. “I’m one of those scaredy-cats. Anybody else having second thoughts?”

  “I’ve seen a lot of rain in eighty-two years,” said Moira. “Never went on a Strong Woman Campout before, though. I’m staying.”

  “Me, too.” Anita’s voice sounded quavery but determined.

  Maybe she ought to do everyone a favor and call this thing off, Belle thought. But then she’d feel like an idiot if the rain forecast proved to be a false alarm.

  Another car pulled into the lot. She was about to wave it over when she recognized it as Darryl’s.

  There were two people in the front seat. Darryl…and Greg.

  She couldn’t back down, she realized with a sinking feeling. And neither, she saw from her friend’s stiffened spine, would Janie.

  13

  “IS EVERYBODY HERE?” the ponytailed guide demanded cheerily.

  “Apparently so.” Darryl couldn’t believe Belle intended to go through with this.

  “Ready for action!” cried Moira. “Lead on!”

  Darryl stole a glance at Belle, who had been studiously ignoring him since his arrival. Didn’t she realize how vulnerable she looked, so rotund she could barely walk?

  “Wait!” She raised one hand.

  Thank goodness. She’s going to end this agony.

  “Where’s our photographer?” she said.

  “Don’t tell me she wimped out,” grumbled Anita.

  “I’ll call.” Janie pulled a cellular phone from her backpack. After a search of her pockets, Belle located the number.

  Janie dialed, talked into the phone for a minute and hung up in disgust. “She made a wrong turn halfway up the mountain and broke an axle. She’s waiting for a tow truck.”

  “We could go pick her up,” Anita offered.

  Belle indicated the camera around Darryl’s neck. “Why bother? Our friend from About Town came equipped.”

  Darryl’s mouth dropped open, and then he closed it again. “All right.”

  Everyone stared in surprise. Then Greg said, “I can handle the shooting. I used to be a photojournalist before I got into editing.”

  The offer left Darryl speechless. He couldn’t imagine why Greg was willing to help. He didn’t even understand why his entertainment editor had come in the first place.

  “Thanks,’ Belle said with a trace of suspicion. “Well, let’s get moving.”

  Shouldering his tent, Darryl followed as their guide led the way onto a trail. With mounting dismay, he watched Belle trundling along ahead of him, clearly out of breath.

  She didn’t belong up here in the wilderness. She ought to be nestled snug in the couch, drinking hot chocolate as they watched a football game with their legs tangled together.

  Ahead, Greg was keeping close to Janie, sweeping the bushes with his gaze as if expecting a bear to pop out at any moment. With a jolt, Darryl realized his friend had come along to defend his woman.

  The men were both gripped by the same primal male instincts, he reflected as they filed across a narrow bridge over a stream. They wanted to cherish and protect. So why wouldn’t Belle and Janie cooperate?

  They stopped twice for Belle to rest. The altitude was bothering Darryl, too, although he refused to show it. He just wished Moira wouldn’t keep doing jumping jacks in place and making the rest of them look bad.

  “We’re almost there!” Bunny sang out every few minutes as they ascended the steepest portion of the trail. Darryl kept a close watch on Belle for any sign of sagging, but she stumped doggedly along.

  Ahead, the women topped a small rise and he heard Anita whoop. “Cabins! There are cabins!”

  It was the best news Darryl had heard all day. With long strides, he overtook the women. He was right behind Bunny when she marched ahead across a grassy clearing to the closest of two log structures.

  In the uncertain light, he thought at first that she was unlatching the door. Then he realized the guide was trying to jimmy a lock.

  “No luck,” she said without even a trace of dismay. “You check out the other one, Camper Darryl.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  It was locked, too. The metal appeared rusty, and he supposed that with enough force he could break it off, but these cabins must belong to someone. Most likely someone official with a four-wheel-drive vehicle, a badge and a gun.

  “No problem,” announced Bunny. “Boys and girls, let’s make camp!”

  Anita and Janie, who had been taking turns lugging the four-woman tent, dropped it to the ground with a groan in two-part harmony. Darryl unstrapped his double model, while Bunny unfolded her own pup tent.

  Belle lowered herself onto a tree stump and made no offer to help. He was glad she had that much sense, at least.

  BELLE HAD PASSED beyond doubts and uncertainties. She knew one profound truth: They were here, and she wasn’t going to move again for twenty-four hours.

  Aliens could land, Noah could sail by in his ark and a Godiva chocolates store could materialize fifty feet away. She wouldn’t budge.

  Vaguely, she noticed that the men were helping the women erect a half-globe that bore a resemblance to an igloo. She wondered why Greg was being so nice to Janie.

  When the tents were ready, Bunny signaled everyone to come inside the igloo to get away from the rising wind. Reluctantly, Belle abandoned her stump.

  The seven of them, even with legs tucked up, could barely squeeze inside. Bunny occupied the middle, balanced on her knees so that she loomed above the others.

  “Isn’t this fun?” said the guide. “What a great challenge! It’s too bad it’s getting late. I was planning on teaching you campers to fish.”

  “I know how to fish,” said Anita. “You go to the supermarket and pick out what’s on special.”

  “Stuffed crab,” sighed Belle.

  “Lobster,” said Janie.

  “Trout rolled in bread crumbs with butter and garlic salt,” said Moira.

  “This brings us to a little problem,” said Bunny. “I was counting on us catching some fish for dinner.”

  Her words plummeted into a well of silence. Like ancient virgins sacrificed to a cruel god, they fell and fell and left no trace.

  A wave of guilt swept over Belle as she regarded her friends. She had never seen such woebegone expressions on a group of faces.

  Only Bunny continued in an upbeat mode. “But of course, I brought emergency provisions!”

  The mood lifted. “What kind of provisions?” ventured Janie.

  Their guide smiled. “Hot dogs and refried beans! Canned corn, too.”

  “You did bring a camp stove, right?” said Darryl. He was being a better sport than Belle had expected.

  “I was planning on a big bonfire,” admitted Bunny. “But we can eat them cold. We’re here to rough it, right, campers?”

  “I’ll eat anything,” Belle said. “And plenty of it.” Now that her lungs were recovering from the walk, she felt hollow down to her toes.

  “Let’s eat and turn in,” suggested Bunny. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

  No one said anything. For that, Belle was grateful.

  A LOUD BOOM woke Belle. Rain pounded onto the tent’s roof while the thunder faded into a series of low rumbles. That forty percent chance of precipitation had turned into a deluge.

  White light flashed through the tent, shocking her upright. Almost immediately, the thunder roared again.

  Belle found her heart racing, but around her, the other three women slept on. Moira had put in
earplugs. Janie and Anita both lived in noisy neighborhoods, so they must be tuning out the sound.

  Her watch indicated it was slightly after midnight. Belle wondered if Darryl was awake. She hated to admit it, but it made her feel safer to realize the two men were nearby.

  Reaching behind her pillow as quietly as possible, she retrieved a flashlight from her pack, along with the childbirth book she’d brought. Reading it ought to help put her to sleep.

  A discussion of the early signs of labor managed to distract her from the storm. The subject didn’t much concern Belle. She felt certain she would be one of those women who drags around for weeks after her due date.

  She was getting sleepy when she felt a gush of hot fluid around her legs. The tent was leaking!

  She sat up, dismayed. Her nightgown was soaking. Belle held out one hand, but no drops plopped into it, so the leak must not be in the roof.

  Patting the floor of the tent, she was surprised to find it dry. Besides, why would rainwater feel hot?

  An impossible thought occurred to Belle. She shoved it away. It bounced right back.

  Her hands beginning to shake with anxiety, she trained her flashlight on the book again. There it was, one of the early signs: a woman’s bag of waters breaking. It could, according to the book, emerge as a trickle or a gush.

  According to the book, the breaking of waters wasn’t a true emergency. But a woman was advised to consult her doctor immediately.

  Well, she couldn’t. She would have to wait until morning.

  Belle lay back, feeling utterly miserable. After a while, despite her wet gown, she began to doze. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she came awake again.

  Thunder snarled in the heavens, and bucketloads of water poured over the tent. But that wasn’t what had awakened her.

  It was the viselike grip of her abdominal muscles. Labor had started in earnest.

  DARRYL FLOATED UPWARD from a dream, grumpy at discovering that it was dark and someone was shaking his shoulder. “What?” he snarled.

  It was Janie, wearing a yellow slicker. “Belle’s in labor,” she said.

  “She’s what?” asked Greg, rolling over beside Darryl.

  “Having the baby!”

  Since he’d slept in his clothes, Darryl simply pulled on a raincoat. Greg did the same.

  “We woke Bunny,” Janie advised as they crossed to the large tent. “She’s gone to make sure the trail’s clear to the parking lot.”

  Around them, the downpour showed no signs of letting up. Lightning jagged through the sky as Darryl slipped into the tent.

  The women were awake and dressed. Even Belle had put on her clothes and sat huddled to one side, looking pale and frightened.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll get you out of here.” And he would, he thought. That was why he’d come on this trip, to make sure Belle was safe.

  A few minutes later, Bunny threw back the flap and crawled inside. “Bad news’ she informed them heartily. “The bridge washed out.”

  “I’ll carry her across the stream,” Darryl said.

  “I wouldn’t advise it,” said their guide. “The road down the mountain’s probably blocked. Fallen trees, flooded creeks, that kind of thing. Better to stay here.”

  “I’ll call 911 and they’ll send a helicopter,” said Janie. “Okay, Belle?”

  “Okay.” She sounded shaky.

  Darryl took her hand, and she didn’t object. He hoped she felt a little better at the reminder that help could be summoned. After all, the forest service was always rescuing people.

  When Janie hung up a moment later, her grim expression sent his spirits plummeting. “They can’t fly in this weather. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I can’t have my baby here!” Belle wailed. “There’s no doctor!”

  Darryl’s mind raced. If he tried to carry her across the stream and drive down the mountain, they might end up in a ditch or worse. “We need to break into one of those cabins,” he said. “She needs a dry place with plenty of room.”

  A murmur of agreement went up. The prospect of taking action galvanized the group.

  Greg and Darryl led the charge. The lock, they discovered, didn’t yield to a few quick kicks as they’d hoped. It took a heavy branch and a lot of prying and bashing to snap the thing.

  As Darryl shoved open the heavy door, he caught a musty scent and thought he heard something scurrying across the floor. By the time he lit a hurricane lamp, though, there was nothing in sight

  The one-room structure came with a bed, a table, a stove, a sink and a tiny bathroom. At least there was indoor plumbing.

  Within minutes, the small troupe had moved their gear inside and piled sleeping bags atop the wooden bed. As she staggered in, Belle cried out and doubled over. Dar-ryl helped her onto the bed.

  “I’ll call the doctor,” he said. “He can give us advice over the phone. Belle, do you have the number?”

  “I—I don’t know.”Panic flashed across her face as she searched her pockets. “I thought I brought it, but it isn’t here!”

  To calm her fears, he indicated the childbirth book. “It’s all right. All the information we need is probably right here.”

  Two of the angriest cinnamon eyes he’d ever seen fixed on him. “Darryl Horak, for once in your life, you are going to ask for directions. Do you understand me?”

  He grinned. “Darn right.”

  He took the phone from Janie and got the obstetrician’s number from information. An answering service put him through.

  Dr. Cohen sounded sleepy, puzzled and then shocked. “She’s where?”

  Darryl explained. When the doctor absorbed the fact that there was no way Belle could reach civilization, he began asking questions and giving directions.

  The small army of assistants, grateful to have tasks to accomplish, did their best to clean the surroundings. Soon water was heating on the stove, the bed was scrubbed and everyone’s hands were washed.

  From Darryl’s description of the leaking fluid, it didn’t appear that the baby was in distress. A thermometer from a first-aid kit revealed that Belle didn’t have an elevated temperature, either.

  The presence of so many people was distressing her, however, so Greg led an expedition to the next cabin. Soon only Darryl, Bunny and Anita remained.

  Anita diverted Belle with accounts of cooking disasters she had suffered. Bunny maintained a confident air as she bustled about preparing warm wrappings for the baby.

  But it was Darryl who seemed to reassure Belle the most. It was his hand she squeezed. He was the one she wanted to help her follow the doctor’s instructions. The breathing patterns did seem to distract her from the pain.

  For several hours, they kept in intermittent contact with Dr. Cohen. They were all hoping the storm would end in time for them to summon a helicopter.

  Suddenly the pains intensified and Belle began thrashing wildly. As instructed by the doctor, Darryl reached down and felt something hard and round sticking out.

  “The baby’s crowning!” said Dr. Cohen. “How’s your wife doing?”

  Darryl winced at the word wife but decided this was no time to quibble over technicalities. “Can’t you hear her? She’s howling like a banshee. And there’s a lot of blood.”

  “That’s normal,” said the doctor. “It’s time for the baby to come. She needs to bear down.”

  Suddenly Darryl felt scared. He had never cared about anything so desperately in his life as he did the safety of this woman and this child.

  BELLE HAD NEVER even imagined she could feel such agony. Obviously, there had been a mistake. A baby couldn’t hurt this much. She must be carrying a two-headed alien equipped with lobster claws.

  The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed that she had been abducted by a UFO and was being subjected to unspeakable experiments. Women would never voluntarily put themselves through this.

  The only thing that anchored her was Darryl. Even when she clutched his h
and and shrieked in his ear, he kept speaking in low, reassuring tones.

  She tried not to think about the fact that he had been equally unfazed while making a botch of their Thanksgiving turkey.

  It was Darryl who told her everything was going fine. It was Darryl who supported the baby as it emerged and assured her that there was only one head and no lobster claws.

  And it was Darryl who held the little creature while it uttered a wail of protest at this undignified entry into the world.

  “He’s adorable!” he said. “Kind of messy, but cute.”

  “It’s a she,” said Bunny.

  “No, it’s got…” He hesitated.

  “I know a penis when I see one,” advised the guide. “That’s the umbilical cord.”

  “So it is,” said Darryl.

  While he and Bunny delivered the placenta and cut the cord, Belle held her daughter on her stomach, stroking the little girl until she quieted. She felt some pain where the baby had come out, but it didn’t matter. The agony of a few minutes ago receded as she gazed lovingly at her daughter’s red, wrinkled face and blue eyes.

  “She’s gorgeous,” said Darryl. “She looks just like you.”

  Belle wanted to protest that she wasn’t red and wrinkled and she didn’t have blue eyes. But the baby was beautiful. So was the baby’s father.

  At that instant, she felt such a rush of love and tenderness that it could encompass even Darryl Horak. For one aching moment, she wished the three of them would be going home together.

  But she knew better than to say anything. The love they both felt was for this baby, not each other. She refused to lie to herself, no matter how much the truth hurt.

  14

  BY THE TIME the others came into the room, Belle felt sleep creeping around the edges of her consciousness. She fought it, wanting to keep holding the baby.

  She also wanted to ask Janie why she and Greg seemed so chummy. They both looked tired but in good spirits. Only Moira, who declared that she had slept soundly thanks to her earplugs, appeared rested.