by E A Lake
Sheila sat in a corner shaking her head. “I can’t do this. I’m not ready. I don’t know the first thing about any of this. And these conditions are atrocious!” Sheila sniffed back tears. “Why would God do this to us? I mean, we’re just a bunch of stupid teenagers. What are we supposed to do?”
Emily, who had been mostly quiet, finally screwed up all her courage and began. “I can do this. At least I think I can. I think we all can if we try. Maybe it’s not what we wanted, but here it is. We have to try at least. I mean, we can’t just abandon a poor innocent baby, can we?”
The other four looked at her and more or less agreed. Even Sheila had an onslaught of courage.
Sister Theresa came back in with a pail of cold water and got the stove going to warm a gallon or so up. She opened a box marked Baby Supplies and peeked inside. There were multiple jugs of powdered formula, enough to last a while, Theresa hoped, until new supplies arrived. In a second similar box, she found cloth diapers. Alongside the diapers was a supply of detergent for washing. While she would have preferred disposable diapers for the infants, the group would just have to make do with cloth. She went back into the living room to tell the group of her findings.
Theresa’s eyes went from teen to teen. Each seemed to be trying to bond with their new child. She asked about names. Sara went first. “Matty. I think he’s about ten weeks old.”
Karen went next. “Rose. I think she’s about the same size as Matty, so she’s probably about the same age.” Karen smiled at Theresa. This was better, Theresa believed.
“Calvin, maybe Cal.” Emily followed. “He’s smaller, so he’s not much more than six or seven weeks old, I suppose.” Emily was the youngest, but it was obvious to all that she was not short on courage, at times at least.
Mary stared at Theresa with an empty face. Though she was 14, and not the youngest, she was the most immature of the girls. “It’s a little girl. I haven’t thought of a name yet, Sister.” Mary looked frightened. “She’s the biggest of the group so she might be three months old. Maybe a little more. Does that make sense?”
Theresa squeezed Mary’s shoulder hoping to put her at ease. “I think all the little ones are three months or less, dear. At least that’s what the Reverend Mother thought.” Theresa stood quiet for a moment. “Do you have a favorite aunt or maybe you could use your mother’s name. That might be nice.”
Mary thought some more. “I don’t like my mother’s name, Sister. I don’t really like my mother very much, actually. My stepmother, that is. I never knew my real mom. I’m not sure I even know her name. My father never spoke it. She abandoned the family shortly after I was born.” Mary gazed at the little girl’s sleeping face. “I think I’ll call her Rachel, if that’s okay with you Sister.”
Sister Theresa rubbed the top of Mary’s head as she stood next to her. “I think that’s a wonderful name, Mary. Rachel is a beautiful name for a beautiful little girl.” Theresa now focused her attention to the corner where Sheila sat.
Sheila’s attention was on the tiny girl in her arms. “When I was little,” Sheila started, “I had a doll named Virginia. I loved Virginia, just like she was my sister.” Sheila looked around the group. “I’m going to call her Virginia.” Finally, Sheila’s tense face relaxed slightly.
“Very good girls.” Sister Theresa walked around the group, satisfied. They were bonding nicely with their new children. “I’m going to make up some bottles, and then we can all get settled in. Is anyone hungry?” All shook their heads no. Neither was Theresa. “After we feed them, I suppose we should tackle the cloth diapers.”
Five faces went blank. They looked at one another with blank expressions. Their lives had changed so drastically in the past six hours. The five teens’ new reality was almost impossible to comprehend.
After a short while, with full bellies and clean diapers, the infants were placed in their seats. With no luck getting the fires started, Theresa told each girl to wrap up in all the clothes they could find and crawl in bed under the blankets the militia had provided. They needed to get to bed soon, as no one knew what tomorrow would bring. For the five to be thrown into motherhood so unprepared was bad enough, but for the militia to do that and put them in a primitive rural setting seemed to add insult to the whole scene.
Cold, lonely and tired, the girls, along with their care packages, settled in for some sleep. The three upstairs talked for a while after lying down. They spoke quietly so they wouldn’t wake their babies. Karen lay alone in her room clutching Rose in her arms. She spent most of her alone time praying for guidance. She felt so alone in her struggle. Wondering how long they would survive without heat, Karen finally fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.
Emily lay crying for a while. She felt so scared by herself, even though she had little Cal sleeping by her side. She missed her older sister. Shawna was in a different group. This was her first time sleeping alone without her sister in longer than she could remember. After a while, Sister Theresa came and crawled in bed with Emily and Cal. Theresa stroked Emily’s long dark hair, whispering prayers and words of encouragement to her until she finally fell asleep. Only then did Theresa dare to drift off to a dreamless sleep herself.
Crying babies interrupted the cold dark night three times. Each needed a fresh diaper and another round of formula. All were awake between the hours of 12 and 2. All were awake and crying, including five teenaged girls. No one welcomed these interruptions – especially by something as needy and selfish as a baby.
Shortly after 7:30 the next morning, the first of the exhausted teens made her way downstairs. Sara was first with Matty, who was especially hungry again that morning. Sara tackled the job of warming water and making formula without a problem. She enjoyed the little heat the gas stove emitted.
Sister Theresa rose carefully from Emily’s bed so she didn’t awaken either of the other occupants. Calvin had been up again at 4:30 looking for more to eat. For Emily, it had been a long night with little sleep. Sister greeted Sara in the kitchen as Matty sat in his infant seat, happily waiting for breakfast.
“I see smoke from the chimney of that home back there, Sara. Perhaps we have decent neighbors.” Theresa pointed out the back window and across two fields. There was a large white house maybe a half-mile to the west. “I suppose if we have too much trouble we can run over there and see if they can be of any help.” Theresa smiled at the happy teen. “But really, how much trouble can five tiny babies cause us?” Both laughed at this thought.
Chapter Five
The first day wasn’t bad, all things considered. If Cal was awake, Emily was crying. When not eating, Cal had a propensity to cry. Actually, scream was a better description. Even when Cal should have been sleeping, he liked to scream. Theresa thought maybe he had colic. Karen thought Cal might be possessed.
The only other issue on the first day was Sheila. Not because of her Virginia, though. Sheila just felt low. She missed her friends, she missed her school, heck she even missed her teachers. Sheila was plain homesick. By early evening, she was in bed crying.
Day two brought more of the same and new additions for issues. First thing after morning feedings, Rachel threw up on Mary. Although she’d been a good sport thus far, this pushed Mary over the edge. The 14-year-old prided herself on her appearance. She liked to be neat, well-dressed and most of all clean. Baby vomit didn’t fit into that criteria. She rose from her place at the table in tears and headed into the bathroom while Theresa took Rachel. The little girl was very happy now with the pressure relieved in her tiny stomach.
Shortly after that incident settled down, Sheila was on the warpath. Mary was still in the house’s only bathroom trying to get the baby vomit off every inch of her body. Sheila needed to brush her teeth; Mary would not relent her current control. Loud screaming ensued causing Theresa to play referee and send two shrieking and now crying girls to separate corners.
Cal started his early afternoon scream fest, triggering more hysterics from Emily. Karen, the ol
dest of the schoolgirls, couldn’t take it any longer.
“Emily,” Karen yelled over Cal’s screams and Emily’s sobs. “You have to be more mature. You can’t cry every time he does.” Karen pointed at Cal who now had Sister Theresa’s attention. “Pull yourself together!” Karen’s tone with Emily didn’t help. Emily sobbed uncontrollably and went to her room not to be seen by anyone for the rest of the day.
Sara worked diligently throughout the day to keep the fires going. Every time she laid Matty down for a nap, Sara restarted the process in vain. By evening, all of her friends grumbled about the lack of warmth. It was going to be another cold night in the drafty ancient farmhouse.
Day one was trying; day two took trying to another level. Theresa still believed better days were just ahead. Though she couldn’t understand where the hired man may be, and she certainly didn’t like the constant bickering between the girls. At least Sara and her sweet disposition could be counted on to keep things more positive. That is, until day three dawned.
The morning of day three began with Sara finally losing her cool. Frustrated with the lack of heat, and all of the moaning that followed each failed attempt, she gave up. Throwing the iron rod used as a poker onto the dirty old floor, Sara stomped her left foot. “That’s it!” she shouted. “I give up! I have no idea what’s wrong!” The collective group of onlookers groaned with disapproval.
“We need heat, Sara,” Sheila announced. “I’ve never been so cold in bed in all of my life. Even those idiots back at DeepHaven kept us warm at least.” Sheila pushed Sara back toward the stove. “Try again.”
Sara spun and gave Sheila the harshest look she dared. “Don’t you touch me. I’ve been working on this for three days while you just sit around.” Sara’s face tightened. “Maybe you should give it a try.” She spit the last words at Sheila.
Sheila coyly grinned at the pint-sized girl. “I didn’t make any false claims to the Sister that I knew how to make a fire. That was all you.”
Sara’s face quivered as she fought off tears. She was just about to give Sheila a return shove when Sister Theresa stepped between the pair.
“Girls,” she said looking between the two. “Let’s keep our cools.” Turning to Sara she continued. “We all appreciate you efforts, Sara. But it does seem the stoves are winning this battle.” She turned and smiled thinly at Sheila. “We’ll just all have to work together to see what solution we can come up with, right?”
Sheila returned the Sister’s words with a quick smug twist as a screaming baby caught their attention. “Oh, guess who?” Sheila started. “Cal again.” She brushed past Theresa and toward the kitchen. “Emily, your little demon is awake again.”
Emily sprinted through the kitchen and into the living room to grab the unhappy boy. Her shoulders slumped as she picked him up. “He’s all wet again Sister. He keeps peeing through these diapers, no matter what I do.” Tears formed in the corners of her tired eyes. Theresa left one commotion behind and attended to another.
Sheila leaned in close to whisper to Sara. “Another day in paradise, aye?” Sheila laughed and left the frustrated girl staring at the cold stove.
The next morning a new problem greeted Sister Theresa first thing. While the issue was new, the issue maker was not – Sheila. Just after breakfast, a crying baby sat unattended in the living room. Theresa entered the room drying her hands on the grey apron she had discovered the first morning. Her eyes shifted from girl to girl, each swaddling their own child. She counted four teens. Karen, Mary, Sara, and Emily were present and doing their assigned task. Missing, of course, was Sheila.
“Why hasn’t anyone called for her?” Theresa asked the group as she picked up an unhappy Virginia. “She’s stinking and probably could use another bottle.” Theresa scowled at the assembled teens.
“We tried Sister,” Mary replied in a whisper. “Sheila didn’t care. She was done with this, she said.”
Theresa squeezed her eyes shut as Virginia continued to scream. Smiling at Sara, she passed the baby off. “Since Matty is sleeping, can you change her please?” Sara nodded and reached for the tiny girl. Opening the door to the staircase, Theresa added, “I need to have a brief private talk with Sheila. Please stay down here girls while I clear this up.”
The group slowly nodded their agreement wondering if Theresa was about to explode. They knew something like this was coming; they had just wondered when.
Theresa found Sheila lying on her bed, playing with one of the many baby blankets tossed about the room. Sighing first, Theresa prepared for her fight.
“Virginia is wet and crying, Sheila.” Sheila shrugged slightly as the girl refused to turn and look at the nun. “You need to come down and take care of her.”
Another slight shrug was Sheila’s only reply.
Theresa rounded the bed and glanced down at the teen. “Sheila, you need to take care of your responsibility. And now would be a good time.”
Sheila rolled her eyes as Theresa finished.
The Sister clenched her fists, fighting back her frustration. “Sheila,” Theresa began again, firmer. “I expect you to get up and…”
Sheila sat up quickly and glared at the nun. “You expect a lot from everyone, Theresa. You know that?” Sheila eyed the woman spitefully. “And I’m not going to do this anymore. I quit.” She flopped on her back on the saggy mattress. “You can have that baby.”
Counting to three inside her head, Theresa attempted to compose her thoughts. “It doesn’t work like that, Sheila. Virginia is your responsibility.”
The teen laughed at her words. “Says who? The militia? Well, they’re not here anymore.” Sheila glared out the front bedroom window. “You? I don’t care.” Her gaze fell back on Theresa. “God? I doubt it.”
Quietly, Theresa turned and left the room. She paused at the top of the stairs, peering back toward Sheila’s room. Nodding slightly, a plan formed in her head. She knew how to handle a selfish pouty girl. After all, she’d been one herself, once upon a time.
Downstairs, Theresa announced to the group she was going to ask for help from their neighbors to the west. “So far, we’re losing ground. We’re a mother down, still don’t have heat, and I have no idea where our helper is. I think it’s time to meet our neighbors.” She nodded at Virginia, squirming in Sara’s arms. “After I get that little one fed, of course.”
Chapter Six
After making sure all of the babies were changed and fed, Theresa walked outside to begin her journey to their neighbors. Originally raised in a small farming community in central Illinois, Theresa was right at home in the country. She just hoped the neighbors were friendly. And helpful wouldn’t be bad either.
A friendly farm mutt met Theresa as she closed on the white house. He barked a little at first, but as he approached the nun, he wagged his tail from side to side and greeted her with a lick of the hand. Theresa had a similar dog years ago. Farm animals didn’t bother her. As she rounded the last corner around the large white barn, a bearded man, dressed plainly in blue and gray clothing with a blue brimmed hat on his head, greeted her.
“Good morning. Can I help you?” The short man approached with a slight limp. Theresa extended her hand that he shook gently.
“Good morning, sir. I’m Sister Theresa. Some young ladies and I have moved into the farm over across the fields.” Theresa pointed back at her new home.
The man looked and nodded. “Oh, the old Henshel place. No one’s lived there for five years or so. My name’s Henry Mueller. What brings you to these parts, Sister?” Henry removed his hat as he spoke.
“Me and the girls, and some younger ones, have been placed there. Sort of a community relocation program run by the militia, I suppose you could call it,” Theresa replied.
“Yeah, I saw them over there a few times this last month or so. I figured they were up to something.” Henry stroked his long beard. “Sounds like something they would do. The militia that is.”
Theresa sensed the time for being shy
about asking for help had passed. “So, I came over to introduce myself and see if there was any help you could offer. I’m afraid the girls are all from the city and aren’t very useful out here on their own. And it’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this. So if you can be counted on for help, it would be greatly appreciated.” Theresa put on her best smile for Mr. Mueller.
“Whatever you need, Sister. I will try and help where I can.” Mr. Mueller seemed friendly enough.
“I don’t suppose you are the man that the militia hired to help us out, are you?”
Henry’s gaze fell to his feet and he shook his head. “No, that would be someone else. I suppose he hasn’t been around yet though. That would be like him, to be missing already.” Theresa didn’t like the tone Henry used speaking of the hired help. Just then an older woman approached in a plain dark blue dress.
“Hello,” the woman said plainly. “I’m Mrs. Mueller.”
Theresa focused on her now. “Good morning to you, Mrs. Mueller. I’m Sister Theresa from the farm over there.” She pointed again, and Mrs. Mueller nodded.
“Hello Sister.” Mrs. Mueller’s stern expression remained fixed on her face.
But Theresa had needs, and wanted them filled, so she continued. “Mrs. Mueller. I have with me five teenaged girls and five infants, all three months or younger.” Mrs. Mueller shook her head at this news. “Now I’m not a baby expert, and I was hoping you might have time to come over and give us a few pointers. Today, if possible. I’m afraid the girls are at the end of their ropes. Perhaps we all are right now.” Theresa couldn’t tell if she was getting through; Mrs. Mueller’s expression remained unchanged.
“Five little ones. Oh my. Do they belong to the girls?”
Theresa shook her head.
Mrs. Mueller looked at her husband for guidance.
“Some plan of the militia. One of those kinds of plans.”
