Tomorrow and Always

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  Faith put down her tiny knitting needles and arose. “I’ll get some blankets.”

  He raced through the wet, nearly-deserted streets of Kodiak as Faith eyed him with a worried stare. “I’m all right,” he said, pushing his cast more firmly against the gas pedal. She had volunteered to drive, but Malcolm knew that even with his cast he would get there a lot faster than she would. He ran a red light at the only stoplight in town, almost wishing a policeman would pull him over and offer to help find Karissa and Brionney. But no one noticed his hurry. Rain beat at the plastic top of his Jeep, driving him into the unnatural dark caused by the heavy clouds.

  “She’s always leaving her cell phone at home,” Malcolm said to his mother’s unspoken question. “She rarely uses it. She doesn’t like that anyone at the hospital can contact her at every minute.” But Malcolm wondered if Karissa would call him even if she had a phone. He had betrayed her trust. Could he ever win it back? There seemed to be only one way, and he wasn’t sure he was capable of quitting smoking.

  They made their way past the airport and the Coast Guard base in silence. When the paved road ended at Dell Flats, Malcolm began to relax. “They must have already made it to the hospital,” he said. His voice was rough from lack of use.

  “Wouldn’t your friend have called?”

  He cleared his throat before replying. “Maybe he got busy. They’re having twins, you know.”

  “I didn’t.”

  They both saw Karissa’s Nissan at the same time, sitting in the middle of the road as if she hadn’t been planning to stop.

  “Are they inside?” Faith asked.

  Malcolm shook his head. He wondered why the women had left the truck. The tires had sunk into the mud, but with the four-wheel-drive, Karissa could have made it out.

  “We have to find them!” Faith peered into the dark.

  “Which way should we go?” he asked, hating the feeling of helplessness that overwhelmed him. Had he been so intent on driving that he had passed the women in the dark? Was Brionney even now giving birth on the side of the road in the rain? Why on earth did they leave the truck?

  Of course he knew the answer. They had left the truck because they knew no one would come.

  Chapter Seventeen

  No one would come for them until it was too late. Karissa remembered vividly seeing her cell phone on the counter beside her purse, but during the fluster of getting Brionney to the car, she had forgotten it. She debated silently for only a few minutes before turning to Brionney.

  “How bad is it?” she asked. “Can you walk at all?”

  “I think so. But where will we go?”

  “We’re right in the middle between Dell Flats and home,” she said. “We could continue on to Dell Flats. Someone’s bound to be home, and some of them have phones.”

  “And if they’re not home?” Brionney asked.

  “We break in.”

  “Or?”

  “Or we could go back home and call the ambulance.”

  Brionney thought for a moment. “Let’s go home. Maggie’s there.”

  Karissa didn’t see what Maggie’s presence had to do with anything, but she felt a pure calm fall over her as they made the decision. What was that feeling?

  “Let’s go.” She bent down to retrieve the umbrella under the seat next to the first aid kit.

  Brionney buttoned her jacket over her huge stomach, grimacing as another contraction took her. Karissa helped her from the truck and held the umbrella firmly over them, one arm around Brionney’s back. How long would it take them? Half an hour? Forty minutes? An hour? Did they have that long?

  “How do you feel?” she asked after a long while. Brionney had to stop walking during the contractions now.

  “When I was a little girl,” Brionney said as they walked slowly on, “I sometimes dreamed of romantic things. You know, like having a baby in a perilous situation with only my handsome, dashing husband to help me. Of course, he knew all about delivering a baby, as he was some famous—not to mention rich—doctor. But now that I’m actually in this position, I can see that dream was pretty stupid.”

  Karissa couldn’t help the smile that came to her face. “I’m sorry I’m not Jesse.”

  Brionney snorted softly. “Him? Jesse’s a wonderful guy, but he doesn’t know much about having babies. He gets a little green in the face each time I deliver. The nurses always ask him if he wants to leave, but he stays there and clings to my hand. I wonder who’s helping who. No, in this situation, I’d much rather have another woman. Especially you, Karissa. You keep your head during a crisis. I saw you with that bear.”

  Karissa shuddered. “Don’t talk about him.”

  She’d dreamed several more nights about the bear, and each time he looked at her with sad brown eyes and asked, “Why did you kill me?”

  “I didn’t, I didn’t,” she would insist. He only nodded his head, his eyes wise. “You didn’t even give me a chance. I would have loved you. I would have made you whole.”

  Brionney gave a little cry, shaking Karissa from these macabre thoughts. “My water! I just felt it break. At least I think that’s what it was. Oh, dear Lord, please help me!”

  Karissa echoed the prayer. “It’ll be all right,” she found herself saying. “It’s not far now.” She scanned the darkness, but there were absolutely no lights ahead.

  “I don’t think I can make it,” Brionney wailed.

  “Of course you can! You have to! I felt it.” It came to Karissa vividly now what the calm feeling had been: the Spirit confirming their choice. She hadn’t experienced it for so long that she had forgotten what it felt like.

  There had been a time in her life when she’d often felt the Spirit. When she had been a little girl, nine or ten, she had borne her testimony each fast Sunday. She had believed then with her whole being, and each time she said the words the Spirit had confirmed the truth with its unmistakable touch on her soul. Then there had been the fateful Sunday which now stood out in her mind like a day alone, somehow apart from all the others, as if lived by someone other than herself. Her father had touched her shoulder as she came back from bearing her testimony at the pulpit, an indulgent smile on his lips. “It isn’t necessary for you to go up each Sunday,” he said to her, and nothing more. Suddenly her testimony, once pure and untarnished with a child’s unquestioning faith, seemed dirty, something dark she had forced upon the rest of the long-suffering ward members, tolerated because they were in a church, but laughed at behind closed doors.

  Karissa had never borne her testimony again.

  Brionney was crying now, and Karissa hugged her, desperation seeping into her being like the rain that oozed through her jacket and saturated the clothes beneath. But with the desperation came another emotion, a feeling of determination and strength. She didn’t know how they would make it, but they would. Was this how the pioneer women of old faced their troubles? With this curious mixture of desperation and resolve?

  She felt cold. Neither of them were dressed for this mad flight in the early October rain. Maybe they shouldn’t have left the truck. Yet they couldn’t have stayed there doing nothing, could they? They had to make it! At least it wasn’t snowing—yet. Walk, Karissa told herself. Keep moving. She took more of Brionney’s weight upon herself, urging her friend forward.

  When she saw the headlights coming from behind, it took Karissa a moment to realize that she wasn’t hallucinating. She pushed aside her wet hair—somehow it was wet despite the umbrella—to blink in the glare. Leaving Brionney at the side of the road with the umbrella, she plunged into the middle of the road, nearly tripping in the muddy potholes, and waved her arms crazily above her head. The vehicle stopped and Karissa ran forward, getting ready to plead her case. Freezing rain stung her cheeks and nose.

  The door opened and Malcolm’s arms were around her. Karissa felt her strength drain as she realized that her immediate worries were over. “Malcolm,” she whispered. He didn’t appear to hear her over the rain, but hi
s strong arms tightened.

  “Get in,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. He stood only partially out of the Jeep, with one foot sinking into the dark mud and the one with the cast still inside the cab.

  “Brionney—” But Karissa saw that Faith had gone out into the rain and was now helping Brionney into the backseat of the Jeep.

  Malcolm drove quickly, but with a back-and-forth motion as he circumvented the water-filled holes in the dirt road. Faith sat with Brionney in the back seat, positioning blankets over and around her laboring body.

  They arrived at the house in five minutes and drove into the dry and comparatively warm confines of the garage, sealing the door behind them. Malcolm jumped out of the truck and opened the kitchen door, wincing as he banged his cast on the stair. “I’ll call Jesse and the hospital.”

  “There’s not going to be time,” Faith said calmly. “Is there any place on this floor for her to lie down?”

  “My room,” Karissa said. She and Karissa helped Brionney into the house.

  “Hi, Maggie,” Faith said as the surprised woman turned from the stove. “We’ll need some clean sheets for Karissa’s bed, and a large sheet of plastic. A shower sheet will do if there’s nothing else to put over the mattress. We’ll need a lot of towels, some plastic garbage bags, a heating pad. You know the drill.”

  Maggie nodded and made her way down the hall. Karissa found an unused sheet of plastic Malcolm had bought during the painting phase of their house and spread it over the mattress. Then, Faith put on the fitted sheet before helping Brionney lie down on the bed.

  “I’ll go boil the water,” Maggie muttered.

  What for? Karissa wanted to ask.

  “Get her a nightgown,” Faith said in that same calm voice. Brionney had no sooner laid back against the mound of pillows, than a contraction came, harder than all the rest.

  “I can’t do this,” she cried, drawing a shuddering breath. “It hurts too much!”

  “Nonsense,” Faith returned. “Women have done it for years without drugs. You’ll be all right. Now, breathe with me. Concentrate on letting the pain flow through you. Think about your little babies.”

  Brionney did as she asked, her hand gripping Karissa’s painfully. Malcolm came in, limping because of his cast. Why didn’t he use his crutches? The thought flashed through Karissa’s head and then was gone.

  “Jesse’s coming with an ambulance.” He looked almost fearfully at Brionney, who clutched at her stomach with her free hand and moaned dismally.

  “They won’t make it,” Faith said implacably. “I’ll need the first aid kit, son. The big one I gave you for Christmas a few years ago.”

  Karissa saw Malcolm move decisively into the hall from the front room. His cast made a clumping sound on the hardwood floor in the hallway.

  “I have to push,” Brionney said.

  Faith paused, her face thoughtful, as if pondering some deeper significance that Karissa didn’t understand. “Do it,” Faith said finally, “but just enough to take the edge off the pain. We’re not quite ready.”

  Brionney clenched her teeth and pushed, grasping Karissa’s hand even tighter. “It feels better when I push,” she gasped.

  “That’s because you’re probably fully dilated,” Faith explained.

  “The baby’s head is down?” Karissa asked.

  Faith nodded. “I think so. I’ll check her in a minute to be sure. But I need the things Malcolm went to get. Hold on a bit more, Brionney.”

  Maggie came into the room before Malcolm returned, carrying a pair of scissors and four new shoelaces on a clean dishtowel. “They’re all boiled and ready to go,” Maggie said, setting them on the bed.

  They heard Malcolm’s step in the hall. Faith slid off the bed, and for the first time Karissa noticed the streaks of gray in her black hair. Maggie took Faith’s place on the bed near Brionney’s feet while Faith rifled through the first aid kit Malcolm had set on the edge of the bed. Both older women moved without speaking, as if in a silent dance—rusty perhaps, but well-remembered.

  “You’ve done this before,” Karissa said.

  Maggie nodded. “All six nephews. And Faith and I have helped others.”

  The fear ebbed from Karissa’s body. Women had given birth for many years before hospitals were invented. Even Jesus Christ had been born in a manger without a doctor.

  “You all need to wash with this soap,” Faith said, drawing a small bottle from the first aid kit. There was a quiet urgency in her voice. “You too, Malcolm,” she said as he was about to leave. “Afterwards, you take Karissa’s place with Brionney. Up there out of the way, but here in case we need you. We’re having twins here, remember. We’ll be as modest as we can.”

  Beside the shoelaces and the scissors, Faith laid a packet of plastic gloves, a stack of sterile gauze, and a new bulb syringe she found in the first aid kit. “We’ll boil that after the first baby, if there’s time,” she said. “If not, we won’t.”

  “The water’s still on.” Maggie shifted to let Faith back on the bed.

  “Where are the girls?” Brionney asked between contractions. Beads of sweat slid down her forehead until Karissa wiped them away.

  “They’re in the greenhouse playing,” Malcolm said. “I checked on them. Savannah’s watching the others.” He sat at the head of the bed where Karissa had been before going to wash her hands with the small vial of green antiseptic soap.

  Faith shoved the opened syringe into Karissa’s hands. “You clean them out when they come, because I may need Maggie to help me with Brionney. Wipe off the face with this gauze and then use the syringe in the baby’s mouth with a steady, sweeping motion. Maggie will help you if you need it.”

  Faith had on one of the gloves, and she checked Brionney gently beneath the draping of her nightgown. “Yes, you are ready to go,” she said. “And that’s definitely a head I feel coming. Let’s hope the other baby also turns before he decides to follow.” It was Faith’s first admission of concern since they had entered the house. “Although once the way is open, a breech delivery is not so dangerous.”

  “Can I push now?” Brionney panted. “Oh, I have to push! It hurts so much!” Taking a big breath, she bore down, emitting a high wail of pain.

  Karissa didn’t think it was supposed to happen so fast, but even after the contraction, Brionney still pushed. On the next contraction, more of the head emerged.

  “Wait a minute,” Faith said. She held the little head in one hand now, and with the other checked the baby’s neck for a cord. “Okay, whenever you’re ready.” As Brionney pushed, Faith hooked a finger under the baby’s arm and helped ease the body out of its confinement. Karissa watched in amazement as the baby turned, making his way into the world to lie face-up on the bed.

  The newborn didn’t let out a sound. Even as Brionney gave a sigh of relief at the abrupt absence of pain, Karissa squeezed the syringe and sucked the mucus from the baby’s nose and throat. “Farther inside,” Maggie directed.

  “He’s not breathing,” Karissa wailed.

  “Sometimes they don’t right away,” Maggie said. “There’s time. He’s still receiving oxygen from his mother through the cord. Do it again.”

  As Karissa obeyed, Malcolm reached over and rubbed the baby’s feet. “Come on, now,” he said, more tenderly than Karissa had ever heard him speak. “Do I have to hold you upside down and spank you? Do I, little guy?” The baby opened his mouth and let out a scream entirely too loud for anything so small. Malcolm grinned. “That’s a good boy.”

  Maggie checked the baby. “He looks good. Not very big, but strong. And loud. See?”

  Now that the baby was breathing on his own, he wouldn’t stop crying. Maggie handed Malcolm a soft towel that had been wrapped around the heating pad, putting another in its place. Malcolm helped Karissa cover the still-sobbing baby.

  “It’s okay,” Karissa murmured. She hugged the baby to her breast. He seemed so tiny she was afraid he would break or scream himself to dea
th, or both. “I know what you want: your mother.” She eased onto the bed and laid the infant in Brionney’s arms.

  Her friend put her face close to the baby. “Shh, there. Mommy’s here. Don’t cry.” Upon hearing Brionney’s voice, the baby quieted.

  “Who says they don’t recognize their mothers?” Malcolm asked.

  “No one.” Faith sounded amused, and Malcolm’s mouth rounded in an O. Maggie laughed as she stuffed some wet towels into one of the empty garbage bags.

  Brionney ran a finger over the white vernix on the baby’s head. “It’s like hand lotion, only thicker,” Faith said. “It protects their skin from the water.” Watching mother and baby brought a feeling of longing to Karissa. One day soon, she could be holding her own baby. Her hand fell to her stomach. Malcolm put his arm around her, saying nothing, but communicating so much.

  Maggie asked Malcolm to tie two of the shoelaces around the cord. “Leave space for a real clamp,” she directed. “They’ll want to put one on when the ambulance arrives. Make sure the laces are real tight,” she added. “It’s not the ideal thing, but we use what’s available.” The women let Malcolm cut the cord between the laces as the baby lay on his mother’s chest.

  After a few minutes, Brionney’s face contorted. “They’re coming again,” she said. She handed the baby to Malcolm, who sat next to her at the head of the bed. “Is he coming the right way?”

  Faith nodded. “I saw him turn after his brother came out. And I can feel the head now. Don’t worry.”

  The second baby came more quickly than the first, and the aftermath also went more smoothly now that everyone knew their jobs. Karissa was ready with the syringe, but this time it proved almost unnecessary—at least so far as the baby’s breathing was concerned. As soon as his body cleared his mother’s, he began to cry. Karissa suctioned him out, just to make sure the mucus wouldn’t choke him, causing the baby to scream even louder. That started the first baby crying again, and together they chorused their complaints. Both tried to suck their fists as they cried.