A Bridge Named Susan

by Sharon Chase Hoseley

  Chapter 65

  Baby Chase

  It was the middle of September before we told anyone else. By that time, even if the baby came early, it would be healthy. Papa was thrilled. Mama was upset. “Why’d you wait so long to tell us? How do you expect me to get anything made in such a short time? The old sewing machine’s been acting up. Something’s wrong with the treadle timing. I’ll have to make something by hand …,” she went on and on.

  “It’s okay, Mama.” I assured her. “We just wanted to make sure.”

  “It’s not a good time to bring a baby into a world with war brewing all over. Who knows what’s going to happen? Hope it’s a girl.” I was enveloped in my own ecstasy, oblivious to the war that had been going for about 14 months. It was far off physically and mentally. How could it affect us? My mother was a negative reactor. However, she was smiling and congratulating us before we left, excited to be a grandma again at almost sixty-eight.

  Edna was delighted to think Patty would have a little cousin to play with. She promised to get to Lewiston as often as possible so they would be good friends. We stopped by Johnny and Alice’s house to share the news. Alice’s piercing angry eyes and mean, untempered mouth let us know we weren’t welcome. We left. Oh dear. We had done to them what so many had done to us in the last twelve years. We were too excited to think clearly. A couple of weeks later, I received a letter from her. I was pleased, thinking it was an apology. It was full of angry words and accusations about Mama. “Don’t you dare let your mother be around your baby. She’ll ruin it for life, just like she’s ruined our lives.” I understood the jealousy and resentment that consumed her. I felt sorry for her. My heart was even heavier for my brother who was trapped in a house of anger and bitterness. I couldn’t keep from wondering how different his life would have been if he’d married Tom’s sister, Frankie.

  Neen gathered all the Chase family at her house for a dinner on Sunday afternoon. Tom’s father didn’t come. He was too ill. Was that a fact or was he avoiding us? Tom hadn’t seen his father since he packed him up and took him away from the river.

  Of course, the family was elated. Paris’ little boy, Clifford LeRoy, was the cutest, black-haired, blue-eyed boy you ever saw. He was ten months old. Everyone knew these two babies would be close cousins. This would be the fifteenth Chase grandchild. The oldest was eighteen. Mother Chase was beaming.

  Two weeks later, Tom came home early from work and found me lying on the bed. “You all right?” There was deep concern in his voice.

  “I think so. The pigs rooted a hole under the fence and three escaped the pen. I had a hard time getting them rounded up. Haven’t run so much in ages. All this extra baby weight slows me down.”

  Tom scowled. “That does it. I’ll get Saturday off and take them to the auction. Can’t have my baby coming out lookin’ like a pig because its mother was chasing ’em.” I must have looked at him strange. “Haven’t you heard? Things like that mark babies. Sometimes, they’ll even get birthmarks from things happening beforehand.”

  “Oh, Tom. That’s old wives’ tales,” I chided. I’d not realized the Chase family was extremely superstitious. Black cats crossing your path, bad luck. Drop a knife, a man’s coming to dinner; a fork, a woman’s coming; a spoon, a child’s coming. If you run out of kerosene, you’ll be in the dark for thirty days. Meaning, you won’t know what’s going on. The list was long.

  Tom stuck to his plan and took the pigs to market. He came home again jiggity-jig with a hundred and forty-four dollars. It had been a profitable investment. He patched the hole in the fence so the little runt couldn’t escape.

  Chapter 66

  It Happened with a Bang

  Around 4 a.m. on Thursday, November 7, 1940, I woke with a start. What’s that? … I drifted back to sleep. The pains have started. Immediately, my mind flew back to my eighth year when Mama was giving birth to Edna. I remembered the screams, the smells, the worried looks. Would it be that way with me? Not even Mama or Edna would explain anything to me. No one talked about things like that. It was hush-hush and private. It would be what it would be.

  It so happened, it was Tom’s day off work. Thank you, God. He wouldn’t have to miss a day of work. He began to stir about six-thirty. He got up to stoke the fire and warm up the house. “Sweetie, how early do you think the Yarbers get up?” I questioned. They were the only neighbors in a mile that had a phone.

  “Oh, I ’spect Grandpa Yarber gets up pretty early. He’s got two cows ta milk. Why?” All older people in that day were called Grandpa and Grandma. This special couple had befriended and helped us when we first moved into the neighborhood.

  “I’m thinking maybe you should go ask if you can use their phone to call Doctor Carsow.”

  “What? Where’s that paper? I know I laid that phone number right … right there on the top. . .” Tom panicked and clawed through the papers piled on our dresser.

  “Calm down. It’s not time yet. I just want him to know so he can plan the day.” I lay back on the pillow and chuckled at my husband. “While you’re at it, go up to Mattoon’s and get Myrtle. Remember, she said she’d come be our nurse since she works at the hospital.”

  “All right, all right.” Tom was throwing clothes on. He grabbed his coat and left, forgetting to close the door behind him. His fire would do no good with the door wide open. I got up, closed it, and returned to the bedroom. Not much heat got back to that room. I crawled down deep into the still warm quilts.

  I woke twice to pains while Tom was gone. In between, I was having wonderful dreams about bridges. When the door opened, the alarm clock said seven-thirty. Tom had brought Myrtle with him. “She’ll know what to do until the doctor gets here,” he said to comfort me. Myrtle started filling me in on what to expect. Tom didn’t want to hear and left out the backdoor. I could hear him chopping wood while we talked.

  “That will keep him busy,” she laughed. “It’s always the husband who gets in the way.” Her calmness helped me relax, and I knew it would go well.

  At eight-thirty, Doc Carsow arrived—with pistol in hand. Oh my, this was not reassuring. “Hope you don’t mind if I do some target practice in your backyard.” It was a statement, not a question. What could I say? He checked me and stated flatly: “It’ll be a while. Myrtle, let me know when the contractions are a minute apart.” She nodded.

  Minutes later, I heard him discussing with Tom where to put the target so it wouldn’t cause damage. What an odd doctor.

  There wasn’t much rest in the next three hours. It was either pains or gunshots pulling me out of half sleep. Myrtle brought a rubber sheet and put it under me. It was hot and sticky and moved with me every time I tried to find a place to get comfortable.

  Bang, bang, bang … quiet … sleep … pain … sleep … bang, bang, bang … quiet …

  The pains grew closer together. “That’s good.” Myrtle opened the back screen door and called the doctor. The shooting stopped, and I heard him stomping mud off his feet on the porch.

  “Are you ready?” he asked her.

  “Yes, clean clothes, warm water, towels—we’re ready.”

  He washed his hands in the bucket and came into the small, one-windowed room.

  “It would help to have some light. Do you have a flashlight so we don’t have to light the lantern?” I nodded, and Myrtle hurried to ask Tom.

  Suddenly, the pains changed and I knew it was time. Doctor nodded and said, “Push, breathe … now push.” The pattern became more intense along with the pain until I barely had time to breathe. Suddenly, I felt the baby slip from my body into the world. The wonder of birth returned. How amazing it is! Our little girl began to cry as Myrtle cleaned her. It was beautiful music.

  Doc Carsow turned his attention back to me, washed his hands, packed his medical kit, his gun and target, and said, “Congratulations,” and was gone. You might say our baby literally came into the wo
rld with a “bang.”

  Myrtle placed our daughter beside me and fetched Tom.

  This is the bridge I’ve longed to be—the bridge between generations, spanning not just changes, inventions, and experiences, but living relationships. This bridge named Susan had learned endurance, patience, trust, obedience, faith, and love. This child I just gave birth to will walk her own life bridge into the future. My heart sang with contentment. My life’s complete and perfect.