Stranded On Christmas

by Burns, Rachel

Gideon stayed by my side, holding my hand and praising my feeble efforts.

  “Okay, Mrs. Thompson. It's time now. I need you to push.”

  That he didn't have to say. Every pore in my body was screaming at me to push. It wasn't something that I had a choice about. Still, it took many pushes before the baby was born.

  I had used the last of my energy to give birth to the baby. I was fighting to stay awake. I wanted to hear if the baby would cry.

  The baby was still and quiet.

  Angela's mother took the baby off to the bathroom. I could hear her sniffling in there.

  Gideon was also crying. “I'm so sorry, Jessie. So sorry.”

  I nodded at him, but I wasn't sure what he was sorry about. Was it about the baby, who still hadn't cried, or was it about our marriage, which hadn't worked out?

  “I want to hold my baby.” I was crying and begging. I lifted my empty hands up into the air. They needed to be filled.

  What would I do if he said no?

  “Gideon, we will leave you two alone with the baby. Take as long as you need to say goodbye. We'll be downstairs.”

  Angela's mother had wrapped the baby up in a towel. “I'm so sorry for you – for both of you.” She laid the baby in my arms and they left.

  Gideon moved in closer to me, so we were both lying on the bed. He had been kneeling next to me the whole time.

  We both stared at our child. I couldn't blink. I knew that this moment would quickly be gone and that I would have to rely on my tired mind to keep these memories alive.

  “He is so tiny.” Gideon smiled at the baby.

  “The baby is a he?” I asked.

  “I saw that when he was born. Would you like to give him a name?”

  “I don't know. I can't think right now.”

  “Take your time.”

  I held the baby looking at his tiny fingers, which were bare of fingernails. His eyes were closed, and his ribs stuck out. He had no hair; still I thought that he was beautiful. I pushed my finger into the palm of his hand, but his fingers didn't wrap around my finger.

  The moment choked me. I hugged the baby to my heart and bawled. I knew that I was being selfish, but I had to hold him tightly. I wracked my brain, trying to think of something that I could do to save him, but nothing came to my mind. I screamed out several times.

  Gideon had his arms wrapped around the baby and me. He was crying, too. It felt like he was trying to hold his family together and keep us in place, but it was too late – too late for everything.

  Gideon

  Jessie had finally fallen asleep. The doctor had to come up and give her something to settle her down.

  She had screamed herself hoarse, but she had given the baby a name before the medicine had taken away her pain and helped her sleep.

  Jessie had asked me what my name meant. I told her it meant strict judge. She didn't seem to like that.

  Jessie ended up picking out the name Aaron. She liked that it meant strength, saying that he would have to be strong because he didn't have a mommy and daddy with him.

  I held the baby in my arms and walked up and down in our room. Thousands of thoughts went through my mind. All the plans I had made were now gone. The cradle that I had built would remain empty.

  Jessie had been making him a sweater and socks, all in white. She had beamed at me when she told me that she would take either pink or light blue wool and make stripes once she knew what the baby would be.

  She had taken to knitting. I was so proud of her and she had a talent for it. Jessie was adjusting, and the baby would have made her happy. We would have been a great family.

  Now that the baby was gone, she wouldn't want to stay here, with me.

  I kissed my son's tiny forehead and prayed that he would go to heaven and watch over us and be happy with what he saw. I hoped that he would be okay without us there to take care of him.

  I pictured the angels fighting over who would get to hold him next. He was a good-looking baby. I could see so much of Jessie in him.

  It took me over an hour to gather the strength to open the door and walk down the stairs with baby Aaron. I gave the baby to the doctor. It was the hardest thing that I had ever had to do in all of my life, knowing that we would never see our child again was breaking my heart.

  This isn't how things were supposed to go. The order was all wrong.

  The doctor left, taking my son away. I stayed standing where I was, but my eyes followed him.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder. I had seen the pastor standing in the living room when I came in. He had been petting Pumpkin. Now he was here to help us through this tragedy.

  “Gideon, he has gone to a better place.” The pastor laid his hand on my shoulder.

  Words like that were often offered to Jessie and I the next couple of days. Jessie wasn't speaking at all again. She could be so quiet. She was still full of bruises from her fall. Sadly, Jessie blamed herself.

  I tried to talk to her about that, but she would gulp loudly and start to cry. The doctor was giving her daily shots to calm her nerves.

  When she wasn't crying, she was working on the things that she had made for Aaron.

  On the day of the funeral, we drove to the doctor's to see our baby one last time. I was worried how Jessie would react to that. I was imagining her refusing to let us bury him.

  I wasn't sure that I could go through with it either. The thought of my tiny son under the earth's surface was so wrong.

  Jessie tenderly picked him up and changed him into the things she had made for him. He had other things on before we came.

  Jessie was talking to him like he was alive and could understand her. She told him that she wanted him to be good and happy. She said that we were both going to miss him and think about him often. She told him that we loved him very much.

  I was too choked up to say anything. Jessie was proving to be stronger than I was.

  I would have liked to say those things to him too. He should have heard those promises of eternal love from both of us.

  During the funeral Jessie held onto my hand so tightly it hurt. She broke down when the tiny casket was lowered into the ground. She was on her knees sobbing. I tried to lift her back to her feet, but I just didn't have the strength for something like that. I was using the last of mine to keep me on my feet.

  Jessie sat next to his grave until it got dark. The doctor gave her another shot and sent us away.

  On the way home, Jessie worried about Aaron being all alone. Then she went right back to not talking.

  Jessie would all of a sudden be standing next to me in the barn. She wouldn't say anything. She just stood there. When she had my attention, she would stare at me for a moment and then turn back to the house.

  It took me a few days to realize that this was her way of calling me to the table. When I came in, she would be sitting at the table and waiting for me.

  Her quietness made me become her counterpart. I couldn't shut up. I talked about anything that I could think of. Jessie hung on every word, but she never commented.

  I tried to get her to answer questions, but that only resulted in her crying, so I let her be.

  At night, we clung to each other in bed. She would move in very close to me, and I would wrap my arms around her. She said nothing, but she cried.

  I'm man enough to admit that I cried, too. We mourned our baby together.

  Chapter 13 - Hostage

  Jessie

  Gideon was being great about everything. I got the feeling that he didn't blame me.

  Of course, it had been my fault, he had even offered to carry me up the stairs, but he never said anything along those lines. I never caught him giving me a look like he was thinking something like that either.

  After the funeral I tried to at least function like I should, but I couldn't. I was constantly playing catch up. I would be doing fine, and then I would realize that I had spent an hour just doing the dishes.

  Then I would start the wash and a little wh
ile later I was in the coop, gathering eggs only to notice that I hadn't finished what I had started.

  I couldn't bear to hear myself talk. The sound of my own voice annoyed me so much that I stop talking altogether.

  I would stand in front of the bathroom mirror and try to say things, but I ended up staring at my stomach. My body shape felt all wrong. I should still be pregnant, but the baby wasn't there anymore. He was all alone in his grave. I hoped the things that I had made for him were enough to keep him warm.

  On Sundays after church Gideon took me to visit him. I took along flowers from our garden and planted them. Gideon had a stone made for him. Aaron James Thompson and his date of birth were on it.

  I wanted to ask him why Gideon had picked the name James, but I couldn't bring myself to talk.

  Besides, we understood each other better without words.

  He held me at night when I had to lay in the bed my son had died in. That meant a lot to me. He wasn't leaving me alone with my problems.

  It had been two months after Aaron left our lives when I walked into the kitchen and saw a man standing there who I didn't know.

  “Hello,” I said, surprised at the sound of my own voice.

  The man looked me up and down and then around the kitchen. He pulled a gun out and grabbed my arm, twisting it behind my back.

  I didn't understand what was going on. My only thought was that Gideon had hired him to punish me because I killed the baby. Maybe Gideon couldn't do it himself anymore.

  I deserved it, so I decided not to fight this man. I was hoping that I would somehow be able to better live with myself.

  “Make me something to eat.” The man shoved me towards the stove.

  I quickly started cooking the meal that I had wanted to make for Gideon and myself.

  The meal would take at least an hour to make. I was peeling the potatoes when he took a pan off of a hook and hit me square in the back with it.

  “Hurry up,” he scolded me.

  I hadn’t expected that, so I screamed out and dropped to my knees. A moment later the kitchen door opened, and Gideon came in. He raced to me and asked me what was wrong.

  “The man hit me.”

  “Who hit you?” Gideon’s forehead wrinkled up as he held me tighter.

  I pointed over his shoulder from my spot on the kitchen floor. Gideon helped me to my feet and turned so he was in front of me.

  He spotted the man in the corner. “How dare you touch my wife?”

  The man smirked at him and pulled out a gun. “I'm the new boss here. Everyone does what I say. Then I won't have to hurt anyone. She needs to get back to cooking.” He looked at me like he was enjoying this game.

  I nodded at him and turned back to my work as best as I could with the dreadful pain that I had in my back and side. I didn’t want the man to hurt my Gideon.

  “Jessie, you do as I say. I need to have a talk with this man, in private. I want you to go out to the barn. Start walking, now.” Gideon was speaking to me in his strict tone, but I was too scared to move.

  “She stays here. I haven't seen a pretty woman in a long time.” They way he looked at me made cold chills go up and down my spine.

  Gideon tensed up and started to step forward towards the crazy man. I followed at his heels, afraid to be away from him.

  He was moving towards the man, but in a way that covered up the backdoor. I knew that he wanted me to run out of it, but instead I grabbed onto the back of his shirt and held on tight.

  “My wife isn't feeling well. She won't be cooking for you. She just lost a baby. Please, let her go. She isn't up to snuff.” My Gideon was protecting me.

  The man looked at Gideon like he thought that he was crazy. “I have the gun. You do what I tell you.”

  “I'm afraid I can't do that.” Gideon was stepping closer to the man again. “It's my job to protect her. I'm her husband. Jessie, go to the barn.”

  I looked at the man to see what he would have to say about that.

  “Folks, I'm not planning on hurting you. I only want a fast warm meal, all of your money, and a moment alone with the Mrs. Then, I’ll be gone so quickly that you’ll forget I was ever here.” He was grinning in a cruel way.

  I figured that Gideon would go at him. He wouldn't let anyone get away with that kind of bad behavior. The man would shoot him, and I would be left all alone with a madman.

  “Over my dead body.”

  “That wouldn't bother me in the least. In fact, I think it would be better if you were out of the picture.”

  I saw the man's hand rising up. Gideon was charging at him. Something in me made me shove my husband to the side. Both of us fell to the floor. I heard a shot and wondered where the bullet now was.

  I saw the man also falling. He was holding onto his shoulder.

  Gideon was back on his feet, and he had a gun in his hands. “Are you okay, Jessie?”

  I got to my feet and looked around for the bullet. Then I saw that Gideon was holding his stomach with his left hand. He was bleeding.

  “Jessie! Are you all right?”

  “You're not,” I told him.

  “Jessie, go to the barn. There is a phone on the wall by the door to the office. Go call the police. Hurry.”

  “I'll call an ambulance, too.” I took off for the barn. Pumpkin was barking at my feet, a day late and a dollar short. He should have started barking long before that man got into our house.

  I went back to Gideon. He was still holding the gun on the man, who was telling Gideon that he didn't have the guts to shoot him.

  “He would. Trust me,” I told the man. “You don't have to test him.”

  Gideon glanced my way for a second before he looked back at the men in front of him. “Who are you?”

  “It doesn't matter. I can't go back to jail. Shoot me if you have to, but I'm not going back.”

  “Do they mishandle you there?”

  “Gideon, you aren't going to set him free. He shot you.” I didn't like where this conversation was going. Gideon had never been forgiving with me. I was starting to think that a broken heart was worth more punishment than a shot through the liver.

  “I'm just asking him some questions. Sit down behind me, baby. Make sure you stay far away from him. I especially didn’t like what he said about wanting a moment alone with you.”

  “Yes, sir.” I took one of the kitchen chairs and pulled it over to the door. Pumpkin was out there barking like a madman.

  “She has to say 'sir' to you? Some marriage,” the man commented.

  I thought about his words too. This was my chance. The police were coming. I could confess that I was being held here against my will. The question was; was my old life there waiting for me?

  The police came. Everything suddenly went so quickly. I was in the back of an ambulance holding Gideon's hand as the paramedics worked on him. He would need an operation. They were calling ahead to the hospital, so they could prepare everything.

  The rest of the day passed like my head was buried in a grey cloud. I paced up and down and waited for the operation to be over with.

  Then I was informed that Gideon had woken up and that he had asked about me. The doctor told me that Gideon was more worried about me than himself.

  I went to his side and took hold of his hand. Again I couldn't speak. Gideon was asking me questions, and all I could do was cry. I had been so scared that I would lose him too.

  He talked very nicely to me.

  The nurse told me that he had to rest. They wanted me to leave.

  Gideon said he wanted me to stay.

  I pulled up a chair and sat down next to his bed. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. I tried to smile at him.

  He grabbed hold of my hand and held it tightly. I saw it in his eyes. He knew that I wouldn't be here when he woke up. He was fighting to stay awake, but the shot wound, as well as the operation, made his eyes droop shut.

  I waited until I was positive that Gideon was sound asleep before I pul
led my hand away from him.

  I needed to get away.

  Every time I walked up or down the stairs I had to think about Aaron and his tiny body. My baby had never gotten to take a breath of air. His little chest had never risen up and shown a sign of life.

  The nurse found me crying. She assured me that my husband would be all right.

  I thanked her for everything they were doing for him and asked her for paper and a pen. I was glad that I got a few more moments with him and a chance to explain why I had to leave him.

  I kissed Gideon's cheek and left the room. I tried not to look back, but I ended up standing in the door, staring at him for five minutes.

  A nurse asked if I needed anything. I told her that I had to go home and check on the animals. I explained that I hadn't taken along my purse because I had only worried about my husband. Thus letting her know that I didn't have any money with me. She quickly found someone who was heading my way who agreed to take me home. They were typical Canadians, so helpful and friendly.

  Before I knew it, I was home, walking through the door. I went to Pumpkin and hugged him. He had been going berserk at home all alone.

  I went into the kitchen and cleaned up. The bloodstains were hard to get out of the floor.

  When that was finished, I went out to the barn and fed the chickens.

  I didn't know how to milk cows, but Gideon had been out here before that man came. I hoped that chore was finished.

  I was certain that Gideon had saved my life. That man had been cruel. He would have hurt me. But my Gideon wouldn't allow something like that. He took care of me.

  I went into Gideon’s office. He filled in charts about the livestock in there, so he knew which cow gave the most milk and things like that. He worked on our finances here. I looked through his accounts.

  Things were tight. We spent as much as we made.

  Gideon had been especially generous with me lately. Angela was a luxury that we hadn't actually been able to afford. He had done it for me, putting my health and that of our precious baby first.