by Vivien Vale
I’m lying in bed. The room is completely silent when a loud knock breaks through the night air. Someone is knocking on Adelaide’s door. Who the hell could that be this late at night?
I go to investigate.
A large man is standing outside. He’s yelling as he bangs on the door.
I don’t understand what he’s saying but the furious tone does not bode well. There’s no fucking way I’m letting this jackass near Adelaide.
My hand lands on his shoulder, and I jerk him away from the door.
“You need to leave. Now,” I tell him.
The bastard doesn’t leave, though. He charges for Adelaide’s door. Not happening, asshole.
I punch him in the face, and he goes stumbling backwards.
My gun is in my hand now and pointed at the asshole.
“I said leave,” I growl at him.
Suddenly, the door behind me swings open.
Adelaide comes flying out and looks around.
“Ford!” she screeches. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Put that damn thing away before you shoot someone.”
She tries to move past me towards the asshole who was just banging on her door in the middle of the damn night.
I grab her arm.
“He’s dangerous,” I tell her.
“Dangerous?” she scoffs. “The only dangerous one right now is you. You’re the one pointing a gun at him. He’s here because of his wife, you jackass. The pregnant one I told you about earlier, remember?”
I do remember. I let her arm go, and she goes straight to the guy looking at his face as they speak.
He may not be a threat, but I still keep a close eye on him in case that little fact changes. A man frantic about his pregnant wife can be a man without reason or thought due to his rising panic for his loved one.
I listen to their conversation. The man is speaking in English now.
“She’s gone into labor, Doctor. As soon as her pain started, I ran here as fast as I could. It’s been hours since I left. I’m worried for my wife. She needs help, and I heard the midwife was injured and can’t help. Please help us. Please!”
“Okay. Okay. Just breathe. I’m going to help. Let me get my things, and we’ll head back to your wife.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” the man gushes, unable to hide his gratitude.
Adelaide runs back into her hut. I follow.
She changes into clothes more suitable for travel, grabs her doctor bag and kit, and heads to the truck.
The old rust bucket won’t start, though.
“Damnit!” she yells. “Fucking piece of shit!”
The only thing left for her to take is the motorbike.
“Adelaide, what are you doing?”
“What does it look like, Ford? I’m doing my job, and I’m going to help a friend. Shit, I need to find my nurse. Let her know I’ll be gone for a while, and that she’ll be in charge.”
She runs off to find the nurse.
I run back inside to pack my bag.
Like hell I’m letting her run off without me. Anything can happen while she’s away. Anyone can see it as the perfect opportunity to kidnap her and ransom her to her family.
I was hired to prevent that, and I’m damn well going to make sure it doesn’t happen.
Adelaide comes back to the hut.
“I’m coming with you,” I tell her.
She stops in her tracks and turns to me. “What?” she asks incredulously.
“You heard me. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a second. I wouldn’t be doing my damn job as your bodyguard if I did.”
She stares at me for a few seconds as if I’ve grown two heads. “You can’t come,” she finally states.
“Like hell I can’t,” I growl. “I’m going. End of story.”
“Only two people can fit on the motorbike, Ford! I want to take the husband back to his wife. It’s better if he’s there during the birth to help comfort and calm her.”
“I don’t care about the damn husband, Adelaide. You have to go because you’re the doctor. I have to go because I’m the doctor’s bodyguard. Now unless you want to keep arguing while the poor woman continues to be in labor without any help, be my guest. If not, shut up, and get your ass on the motorbike and tell the husband to start running back home.”
We stare off. She soon realizes I’m not budging on the matter. She huffs in anger before turning to the husband.
I attach our bags to the motorbike while she talks to him.
Soon, the man is running back the way he came.
“Let’s go, jackass,” she grumbles.
I hop on the bike, and she hops on behind me. She wraps her arms around me tightly as I kick the bike on.
Shit, her arms are feeling fan-fucking-tastic around me. If she lowers them a little further, she’ll notice the hard on I’m sporting right now.
Fuck, Ford. Not the time nor the place.
“Hold on,” I yell, trying to overpower the roar of the bike’s engine.
“Just drive. We need to get to her and quickly. Every moment counts.”
I rev the engine, and we shoot forward.
Nothing but a dark sea of desert spreads out in front. The night shrouds us in pitch black darkness, and the chilly night air whips us in the face as we travel to another village, where Adelaide is the only hope of one woman who is about to deliver her baby.
Chapter 17
Adelaide
It’s an incredibly starry night.
He’s going so fast, I have to hold on tight.
The wind rushes past to either side of his massive form.
His torso is so huge, I almost can’t fully wrap my arms around him. I’ve hooked my hands into his belt. Under my arms, I can feel his tense muscles bulging and as hard as rocks.
Under different circumstances, I would put my head against his immense back, let the wind tug at my hair, and enjoy the ride under the stars. But this is no joyride, and I have to direct Ford to the village.
When I stick my head out, the wind forces the air deep into my lungs, and I can’t breathe.
Paired with my hands nearly in Ford’s lap, excitement prickles all over my body.
No time for selfish pleasure.
I spot the turn-off and hammer my fist against Ford’s thigh, then point out where we need to go. No use talking over the wind.
He hugs the turn tightly, hardly slowing down. My stomach drops, and I hang on for dear life. At the same time, I feel elated, and blood rushes to my head.
If only we could ride like this for longer.
As we enter the village, Ford finally shifts the motorbike into low gear, and we roll between the huts. It’s dark, but there’s no way we’ll make a mistake about our destination. A light is on in a single hut, and a woman’s painful scream pierces the night.
Shani.
My friend’s suffering makes me cringe, and I jump off the motorcycle before we even come to a full stop. Ford puts up the kickstand while I yank the bags.
“Easy, doc,” he says and helps me release them, taking one of them.
He’s all calm and collected. Obviously, the nighttime ride hasn’t had the same effect on him as it had on me. He must be used to far greater thrills.
Then again, I’m the one who got all flustered with my body pressed against this man-shaped mountain. He probably felt nothing.
I take a deep breath and enter Shani’s hut. To my surprise, Ford steps right behind me instead of standing by the door.
An old woman is trying to console my friend, who’s deeply in pain with labor.
“Daktari!” the woman exclaims, her smile lighting up the dim insides of the hut.
“Adelaide!” Shani extends one arm, and I take her hand. Immediately, she squeezes it hard as a new contraction comes on. “Ugh!” She winces.
I run my hand along her cheek then switch to work mode.
I want to tell Ford to leave, tell him he has no business inside the hut and will only get in the way
. But he has already propped up and opened both bags, so all my supplies are ready and easily accessible.
So I give him a short, approving nod instead.
“Right,” I say, “Time to scrub in.”
I take out the disinfectant and clean my hands and forearms in preparation. In this environment, it’s important to avoid germs and infections to keep the mother and the baby safe.
Ford squats down next to me and begins disinfecting his own hands.
“What are you doing?” I hiss. “Don’t waste medical supplies. If you’re putting on those gloves, you better be prepared to use your hands in helping. Otherwise, stay out of this!”
“Look,” he says calmly. “You’re here without a nurse. I sure have no training, but I’ll do exactly what you’ll tell me to do.”
I give him a doubtful look.
“You only have two hands. Four are better. In case you need me, isn’t it better if I’m prepared already?”
He’s right, as much as I don’t want to admit it. I’m indeed a little worried about the absence of my nurse and about my friend Shani.
There’s no time to argue, so I motion for him to continue what he was doing.
While he finishes scrubbing in, I check on Shani.
“Breathe,” I say and show her how to control her breathing.
She’s very dilated already, but she’s much too cramped. Her hands are grabbing the blanket she’s lying on.
I gently feel for the baby. Shani’s water just broke before we got here.
“We’re just in time,” I tell Ford. “Thanks for getting us here so quickly.”
He doesn’t know where to look, so he gives the mother a brief smile. He’s put on a head torch to help him see.
He vaguely resembles a doctor. A very handsome, muscular, and bearded doctor.
“Male nurse?” Shani presses out between tight lips.
Bodyguard, I want to reply, but decide against it.
“Long story,” I simply say.
The old woman surprises everyone when she speaks up.
“Mgeni.”
Suitor. Damn, word travels faster than wildfire.
Shani arches her back in pain as another contraction hits.
“Owww!” she screams. The old woman wipes her brow. As fast as her contractions are coming, the baby’s well on its way.
I hold her hand and support her hips, quickly massaging her cramping muscles. I’m this close to giving her an epidural anesthetic and muscle relaxant, but I’m holding back. I don’t want her to think that something’s wrong.
“Breathe, Shani,” I say.
She’s huffing and puffing, trying to get her breath under control.
“Ford!” I snap my fingers, and he stands at attention.
“When the baby’s head shows, I want you to grab it—gently, like this,” and I indicate how to cradle it.
He nods but looks puzzled.
Shani has her knees up, and a blanket covers her vagina.
Oh, Ford! Now I understand the problem.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “It’s okay. I’ll tell you when.”
He places his hands at the ready.
I massage Shani some more. When she scrunches up her face in pain again, I yell, “Push!”
“Argh!” Shani cries out.
I peek under the blanket.
“Now, Ford!”
He reaches in with a look of sheer concentration. I swear, the tip of his tongue is showing in the corner of his mouth.
“Got it!”
“Great,” I say, panting myself.
“Now, when she pushes, gently pull, like this. Be ever so careful with the head.”
“Affirmative, doc,” he says.
I smile at him. Shani howls again.
“Push!”
I look at Ford, who’s moving his hands. But his face goes from puzzled to worried.
“What’s wrong?”
“The baby…it appears to be stuck.”
“Hold her hand.”
We quickly swap positions, and Ford gently takes Shani’s hand.
“Breathe,” he tries to reassure her and actually breathes with her.
Amazingly, he’s right.
The baby’s shoulder has lodged itself in the way. The head is already out, and because Shani is cramping, the baby has trouble getting air.
I have to act quickly.
I reach in and try to move the shoulder, but it won’t budge.
It’s important we get the baby out fast so it can breathe.
I have seconds to make a decision. The logical solution to the problem is a C-section.
I bend over the supplies and take out a scalpel. But when I’m about to peel off the wrapper, Ford’s hand is on mine.
“You cut her open, you risk infection in these surroundings.”
“I know that,” I shoot back. “But the baby’s stuck, and we have to act. You’re wasting time.”
“Just think for a sec. Go back to your training. What would a nurse do?”
“You’re the nurse here,” I snap, “What would you do?
Ouch. That was unprofessional, and I immediately regret having said it. But Ford keeps his cool.
“It’s a mechanical problem,” he says.
“So?”
“Flip her over.”
“What?” I say, but in a flash, I see he’s right. Again.
Damn it, but this could work.
I drop the scalpel and stand.
“Shani,” I say with as much calm as I can muster. “Get on your hands and knees, like this.” And I show her how.
She looks at me questioningly but doesn’t resist.
“Relax,” I say and massage her more.
She shudders with the onset of the next contraction.
“Push as hard as you can!” I yell.
Shani gives it everything she’s got.
“It’s moving,” Ford shouts.
Then suddenly, he holds the baby in his giant hands.
He looks triumphant and surprised, like a football player who’s caught an impossible pass.
I cut the umbilical cord, and Shani collapses due to exhaustion.
Ford holds the baby up in the light of his head torch.
“It’s a boy!” he bellows.
An arch of liquid shoots out and hits him in the face.
“What the…?”
The old woman, and I have to laugh as he stands there with his face dripping.
“It’s his first piss,” I explain. “They say it brings best of luck to the recipient.”
“Well, then…” Ford mumbles.
I take the baby from him and check his vitals. He’s healthy and well, wailing loudly. I gently place him in Shani’s arms.
“Thank you, doctor,” the two women say kindly.
“Thank the male nurse,” I say and point to Ford.
He’s still riding the high of the experience and beams at me proudly. He leans forward to give me a big bear hug.
“Careful, big guy,” I say, “You’re squeezing my tears out.”
I’m happy and relieved that my friend and her baby boy are both well, and that the birth is over.
Not for the first time, I thank my brother silently. If it hadn’t been for him…
My eyes find Ford’s, and for that moment, I think we understand each other without words.
I sigh. Why can’t it always be like this between us?
Chapter 18
Ford
If this were back home, there’d be fucking champagne all around and cigars for the men. This would be followed by the announcements on Facebook, Twitter, and all the other social media channel people follow or belong to these days.
Not here.
I’m not quite sure how the news is going to spread here in this part of the world, but it’s not through social media. I anticipate hearing the beating of the drums to announce the news. But there aren’t any.
What a strange world we live in.
Prioritie
s in this part of the world are different. I guess when all around you are issues relating to life and death, you tend to focus on things that are important.
I have noticed some traditional toys and few baby clothes delivered to the hut. There won’t be bubbles, wine, or other Western extravaganzas.
“Well,” Adelaide turns to me. “Mother and baby are doing well, so I think we better get back to the village.”
With a lump in my throat, I nod. For some reason, I don’t feel like leaving just yet. It doesn’t feel right to abandon this new life and his mother.
I mean, how do we know they’ll be okay? What if something was to go wrong the minute we left the village? How would anyone be able to contact us?
“I guess. If you’re sure.”
Adelaide takes a step toward me. “What’s the matter, big, tough guy? The sight of blood left you weak?”
Her nose wrinkles a tiny bit as she looks at me. I resist the urge to grab her and kiss that cute little button nose.
“Hardly. I’m just worried about them.” I thrust my chin in the direction of mother and son.
“Shani is fine. As is her gorgeous little son. And look who’s coming.”
I follow the direction her finger is pointing and notice the husband come through the door.
“Just in time to say hello to your son before he has another nap,” Adelaide greets him and leads him to his wife and son.
It’s with mixed emotions that I watch the happy family.
I’ve never felt this way before. Was I feeling happy, elated, and…a little jealous? Jealous of something I don’t have?
Fuck. This delivering baby shit has been messing with my mind.
With a shake of my head and a last look at the little bundle now in the arms of his father, I head out the door.
Outside, I wait for Adelaide.
“And don’t forget to let me know if anything goes wrong. Otherwise, I’ll see you next week,” I hear her say as she’s leaving the tiny mud hut.
“Ready?” I grumble and sit on the motorbike. I rev the engine to make a point. If we’ve got to go, let’s just fucking go.
She raises her eyebrows. “Why the sudden hurry?”
My reply is a grunt.
Adelaide smacks me playfully on the shoulder. “I can’t believe it. Looks like my big, tough security guy’s gone all soft on me.”