by Trish Mercer
Mahrree’s eyebrows flew upwards. “Tell me now, how is that position supposed to help her deliver the baby?”
“Her body does it for her,” Miss Giding looked perplexed.
“And so she just . . . what, takes a nap?” Mahrree prodded.
“Yes, actually she does.”
Jaytsy sat up as quickly as she could. “How’s that possible?”
The representative rummaged in her bag and produced a dark bottle. “With this! Truly, you haven’t heard of sedation?”
Mahrree’s mouth opened, shut, and opened again like a gaping fish. She looked at Jaytsy, then back again to the representative. “Oh, we know all about sedation,” she said tonelessly.
“Then you know this is a real wonder. The mother sniffs it and she falls asleep almost instantly.” Miss Giding beamed, as if it were her own invention. “She’s in a deep sleep for hours. If she wakes before the baby is delivered, we just give her more. Within a day, occasionally two, the baby emerges and the mother has experienced nothing.”
Mahrree looked at her daughter.
Jaytsy answered with surprising calm. “To sleep through the pain of what’s to come does sound appealing.” She shifted in her bed to find a comfortable position but failed. “But there are ways to deal with the pain, and I do not want to miss a moment of bringing my baby to this world.”
“But it’s completely safe! It’s been in use for almost a year.”
Mahrree covered her mouth to keep herself from exclaiming, In use for almost a year? Ha!
Jaytsy’s eyes flared in fury. “I will NOT be sedated! I don’t want to sleep away the first moment of my child’s life.”
“But it can be frightening,” Miss Giding leaned on her bed in earnestness. “Why would you want to experience fear? And it is a bit dull, frankly, because it can take hours, or even days. You don’t have to subject yourself to fear and boredom.”
“Fear and boredom?” Mahrree asked. “There’s an unusual combination I think I’d like to see . . . But, dear representative of the Administrators—”
The unfortunate girl failed to notice Mahrree’s scorn.
“—fear comes only when you don’t have faith in the outcome. And boredom comes when you believe there’s nothing new worth learning. I simply can’t understand how any of that will occur today.”
Jaytsy sat up, kneeled, then fell forward onto her hands in a dog-like position that alarmed the representative.
“Should you be doing that?” she asked.
“Absolutely!” said Jaytsy, “Because it relieves the pressure on my back.” She began crooning like a tone-deaf cow trying to sing.
Miss Giding stared at her. “Why is she making that noise?”
Mahrree raised her eyebrows. “Just how many birthings have you witnessed?”
The girl pursed her lips. “You mean, without the sedation?”
Mahrree nodded.
Giding just gulped.
Jaytsy stopped the moo-ing as the pain subsided. “An old midwife told me how to work through the pains. There’s a variety of sounds, breathings, positions, movements—different techniques for different women. We’re not identical you know. Oh wait—maybe, you don’t. Since this is an old way of doing things, at least from one year ago, I’m sure you have no idea what I am doing. But we do.”
Of all the traits to develop, sarcasm seemed to be the newest one to reveal itself in Jaytsy. When Mahrree was a young teacher she thought sarcasm was the sign of true wit. But as she aged she realized that sarcasm was just lazy, and more damaging than enlightening.
Then again, there were occasions like this when sarcasm kept someone from exhibiting true violence. Mahrree tried not to smile.
“I thank you for coming,” Jaytsy said with finality, “and I send you on your way. You don’t need to make any more ‘routine’ checks on me.” She cringed in discomfort and began to sway her hips, like a dog trying to dance.
Miss Giding’s lips peeled back in dismay. “You just don’t have to do this! What good can come from suffering?”
Jaytsy continued her swaying. “Who said I was suffering? I intend for this to be the most enlightening day of my life. Good day.”
Mahrree beamed at her daughter.
The representative looked at them both, baffled. “Send for me if you change your mind. I’ll be expecting you,” and she left.
As they heard her go down the stairs, Mahrree released a big breath. “How’d she know to come?”
Jaytsy shook her head. “I’m not sure, but I have my suspicions. I’ve been feeling pains for a while.” She crawled out of bed and stood nearly erect. “That’s better! I was in the curing sheds early this morning pointing out to the fort’s cook where the ripened cheese was when a pain hit me. I’m guessing he went back and reported it to Thorne.” She cringed, either from saying the name or a twinge or both. “The captain probably sent the representative. I can’t really imagine why, though.”
Mahrree moaned quietly. “Maybe Thorne sent someone because he’s such a fan of sedation. Still,” she said, “it’s a little troubling. It seems rather compassionate of him toward you. Jaytsy, since you’ve been married has he ever . . .” Mahrree didn’t know how to put her concern into words.
Jaytsy looked down at her hands. “He still rides by, slowly. I catch him looking at the house sometimes. But he’s never done anything outright. Deck keeps the old pitchfork by the back door, just in case,” she smiled. “Mother, maybe word about me will get back to Shem, and he can—”
Mahrree shook her head. “We don’t know what Shem can do right now. We best not even try to hope. I know. I miss him too. But let’s get you moving, see if this is the real thing or not!” she said brightly. “Peto did this to me quite a bit for many weeks before he was actually ready to come.”
“Oh,” Jaytsy moaned, “please don’t tell me I’m about to give birth to another Peto! And if this baby doesn’t come today, then I’ll know he’ll be as annoying as his uncle.”
Mahrree and Jaytsy walked around the farm that morning, pausing every ten minutes for Jaytsy to breathe through another pain. Perrin and Peto stopped with their digging a new canal, winced with worry at their direction, then quickly turn back to digging hoping not to see something they shouldn’t. They also visited Deck in the barn while he was in the middle of helping a cow birth a calf.
As soon as Mahrree realized what was happening she tried to steer Jaytsy out of view, but she insisted on staying. “I want to see him do it, Mother, so I know he can help me.”
Mahrree shook her head and shielded her eyes. The graphic nature of nature wasn’t something she naturally dealt with.
Deck heard his wife and called over his shoulder, his arm up in something Mahrree didn’t want to understand. “Jayts, what are you talking about?”
“You taking care of me after that cow.”
If he could have spun around he would have. “What?! Jayts, don’t even . . . whoa, easy, easy . . . Look, Jaytsy, I’m a little busy . . . we’ll discuss this later . . .”
Mahrree waited outside, practicing her own deep breathing, until her daughter came out a few minutes later.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” Jaytsy said, holding her belly protectively. “No, not so bad. As long as Deck doesn’t drop the baby on the straw.”
By late morning, as Mahrree and Jaytsy walked the perimeter of the farm again, Mahrree began to suspect this day would not be ‘lightening’ her daughter at all; the pains didn’t come any closer, much to Mahrree’s secret relief. The afternoon was even longer, the pains still ten minutes apart, and the time passing unbearably slowly for Jaytsy.
By evening the pains had subsided completely. It was a good thing Perrin and Peto had already left for home to make dinner, because Jaytsy was disappointed.
Intensely, violently, furiously disappointed.
“What a useless day!” she bellowed as she sat at the kitchen table and pounded her fist on it.
Mahrree was making dinner, becaus
e she didn’t think her daughter should be allowed anywhere near sharp knives tonight.
Deck, himself exhausted from three calvings, trudged up to the back door. When he heard his wife yelling he paused with his hand on the doorknob.
“Wasted! This whole day! This child will never come out! I’m stuck with this belly until the Last Day!”
Deck glanced at the window and noticed Mahrree watching him. He sighed and walked in the door.
“You!” Jaytsy cried when she saw him. “This is all your doing!”
Deck turned to his mother-in-law, pleading for assistance. Mahrree shrugged apologetically.
He crouched in front of Jaytsy. “I’m sorry this has been such a bad day for you,” he said sweetly as he took her hands. “But Jayts, all things happen for a purpose.”
His wife rolled her eyes at him.
“What do you think?” he cautiously asked Mahrree.
“I’m sorry, Jaytsy, but Deckett—it’s not happening today. And maybe Mrs. Braxhicks was right. She thought the baby still has about four more weeks—”
“No!” Jaytsy wailed.
“—So no, Deck, we don’t need you to reach in and pull it out by the legs tonight.”
Deck flushed red, but Jaytsy sat up. “You could, Deck! You could do it! Just wash off your hands and—”
“Jaytsy!” Deck cried. “Mahrree, is she serious?”
“It’s just that extra mooing, Deck. Don’t your cows do that? Complain a bit more?”
Jaytsy glared at her mother.
“Just a few more weeks, you two. I promise. I’ve been there, and it will end.”
---
Perrin walked in the back door with a tired Peto.
“All I want is a piece of pie and bed, Father,” he said as he took the entire pie from the counter, remembering a fork at the last moment, and headed out to the eating room. “Why people want to be farmers is beyond my comprehension. It never ends. Good night,” he called before shutting his bedroom door.
Perrin laughed softly. “Good night, son,” he said, although he was sure Peto was too far away already to hear him. Soon Peto’s farming days would be over, and his exploring days would begin. Perrin didn’t know how much longer he could keep it from his son, but he enjoyed imagining the look of shock on his face when he’d finally hear about his new future.
Perrin lit a candle and headed down to the cellar in search of something for dinner. He’d seen the look in Mahrree’s eyes—the baby wasn’t coming tonight—and she’d be home soon, spent and with frayed nerves from having to deal with their very disappointed daughter. The least he could do was bake a few potatoes, which he dug out of the cellar. Reluctantly he also pulled out a crock of cheese; Peto’s first attempt at making it. Well, someone had to be the first to try it.
After he put the potatoes in the oven and stoked its fire, he walked the crock of cheese, held out safely at arm’s distance, and a candle to the eating table.
The crinkling of the hairs on his neck that told him something in the shadows by the fireplace wasn’t quite right. And he was a man who knew all about the shadows of a dark room.
“Reveal yourself!” he commanded.
“Perrin Shin,” a soft, gentle voice said, “I’m here because a friend has sent me.”
A woman’s voice.
That unnerved him even more. He slammed down the crock on the table. “Show yourself!” he commanded again, holding the candle far in front of him to light whatever was lurking there.
The shadow moved from the fireplace and slowly walked to the opposite side of the table. It was definitely a woman, and she was holding up her hands. “Perrin Shin, I am unarmed. You may check me if you need to. I wish only to speak with you.”
Perrin held up the candle to better see her face and sidled to the end of the table and the drawer that was hidden there.
He’d never seen the woman before. She was as slight in build as Mahrree, with black curly hair and dark earth-brown skin. As she smiled, her eyes were gentle. Deceivingly so. But it was her clothing that most alarmed Perrin—it was dyed in a mottled black and brown, and loose all around her. Convenient for hiding blades.
Having reached the secret drawer, Perrin set down the candle. With his free hand he subtly felt for the drawer and noiselessly slid it open.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“A friend,” she said, gingerly approaching the opposite side of the table. “I can’t tell you my name right now, but I will later.”
Perrin felt in the drawer. “How did you get into my house?”
His heart sank when he realized the drawer was empty.
The woman smiled sweetly. “Our mutual friend helped me in. And Perrin Shin, your knife is not there.”
That’s when Perrin noticed the second shadow by the front door, and it moved. The dim candle light glinted off the long knife that normally sat in the table’s drawer, clenched in the folded arms of a truly massive man.
Perrin sized him up. Not only was he taller, he was younger and more muscular. Not good. He was as dark as the woman but his eyes weren’t nearly as gentle as he walked slowly, forebodingly, to the table.
The small woman continued to smile as if he were nothing more threatening than a puppy. “This is my escort, my guard, and my husband. I’m sure you understand how protective he is. He’ll care for your knife until we’re finished talking.”
Perrin’s chest heaved in frustration. “There’s only one man outside of my family who knows about the location of that knife. Where’s Shem Zenos?”
She shook her head. “There’s no Shem Zenos with us.”
Perrin was losing patience. “Who are you and what do you want?!” he bellowed, hoping that perhaps he’d arouse his son and maybe he’d be wise enough to slip out his window and get some help. But all he heard was snoring from Peto’s bedroom.
“We want to help you and your family,” the woman leaned across the table. “Please, sit down, former Colonel Shin. I am, what you might consider, a Guarder. And we come with a proposition. Please, let’s talk.”
---
Mahrree left after tidying up the house, leaving Jaytsy sitting grumpily at the table. She dutifully ate the dinner her mother prepared, while Deck sat down next to her and rubbed her back.
“I’m so sorry about today. The Creator does things with a purpose, and at the right time. The 33rd Day of Planting Season just wasn’t the right time.”
Jaytsy didn’t respond but dug into the beans and potatoes with more effort than was necessary.
Deck looked around the kitchen, searching for the right words as if his mother-in-law had left a short speech for him somewhere. Finding nothing, he did the best he could on his own.
“You know as well as I do that an apple picked before its time is sour,” he said. Feeling empowered by the wisdom of the metaphor, he continued, realizing that he had a whole farm he could use as examples. “While peppers are all right to pick when they’re still green, wheat that isn’t ripe is of no use, and lettuce picked before its prime is bitter—”
Jaytsy gripped the front of shirt, yanked him closer and said, “If you keep going, you best not compare me to a cow, unless you’re ready to be compared to an ox!” She released his shirt and went back to attacking her dinner.
Deck swallowed, straightened up, and took a wary step back.
Jaytsy was truly the most thoughtful, intelligent, and beautiful woman he’d ever met. He fell in love with her so easily and knew there was no one else in the world that could compare.
But there were moments, such as this one, when he recalled with gut-punching clarity that she carried the blood of several army officers—the deadliest men in the world.
And it wasn’t as if any of that was tempered on her mother’s side; Deck had seen Mahrree’s kindness turn into rabid ferocity on enough occasions to be a bit leery around her as well.
So naturally it was moments like this that made Deck wonder what kind of children they may have, and if they wo
uld terrify him.
As he watched Jaytsy hack at a boiled potato until it was pulverized, he worried about his own wedding vegetables being abused so rashly, so he tiptoed out of the room.
“Just a little more mooing,” he assured himself as he headed for the safety of the barn. “Just a little more mooing.”
Chapter 37 ~ “Who in the world would be brave enough to visit us?”
Instead of going through her back door as she normally did, Mahrree went to her front garden to inspect her seeds before entering the house. It had been three weeks since she planted, and she was hoping something would decide to bravely break through the gravely soil, but it was too dark for her to see anything. Or maybe Peto had been right—nothing would know how to grow there.
Disappointed, but not yet discouraged, she trudged through the front door, went straight to the sofa, and plopped onto it. She had thought expecting a baby was hardest thing to do, but watching her daughter expecting was a very close second.
Noticing that the kitchen door had swung shut as she came in—Perrin was likely trying to figure out something for dinner—she called out to him, “So it wasn’t the real thing, as I’m sure you’ve surmised by now.”
Peto snored loudly in his bedroom.
“I knew it was far too early,” she called again. “It’s better this way, but Jaytsy won’t believe that tonight.”
Her husband said something quietly in the kitchen.
“Perrin, are you all right in there?”
“Uh, yes,” he called louder. “Fine.”
“Want some help?”
“No, no, no. I’ve got it.”
“Really, I’m not that tired,” she lied as she closed her eyes and heard the door to the kitchen slowly open.
“Since when do you come home through the front door?” he asked.
“Since I have a garden to attend to. Nothing’s up in it yet, as far as I can tell.”
“Uh, dinner will be ready in a while. Got a late start. Just baking some potatoes. We’ve got cheese, too. Peto made it, so we should be cautious.”