The Woodlands

When I came back, they were all staring at the box like they were waiting for it to burst into song. There wasn’t much sun and it was taking a while to charge. Slowly, the light came on and they started preparing their lunch. I declined. I had some pine nuts, some dandelions, and the purple berries. I did take some water.

Clara inhaled her lunch. She then complained of a stomachache. So we sat with her for a while until she said it had passed. Just indigestion, she said. Just to be safe, I stayed right by her, exchanging worried glances with Apella.

It became increasingly difficult to walk off the railway line. On one side it fell away steeply. On the other side, we were looking up at the mountainside, straggly pines clinging to the loose, grey dirt. Pebbles constantly dripped down, pinging off the ground. The line was cut into the rock now. Alexei a

As we rounded a bend, the line seemed to just stop. In front of us was a steep mountainside covered in grass with a heavily wooded peak that went on forever. Juvenile pines, only my height, stretched as far as the eye could see. I could no longer see the railway snaking its way up the mountain. It was a dead end. Without thinking, I grabbed Joseph’s arm.

“What do we do?” I asked, pointing straight ahead and then letting my finger rise to the sky. This was our only plan. What would we do if there were no line to follow?

“It’s all right, look a bit closer,” he said, chuckling. Sure enough, on closer inspection, I could see two black holes punched into the hill. Tu

“Rosa, breathe slowly.” Joseph’s green eyes were locked with mine. I searched them, picking out flecks of gold, watching his eyelashes flutter and close. I concentrated on that, as I tried to slow down.

“I can’t go in there,” I stammered, shaking. I was picturing all the earth piled on top of us. No air, no light.

“Ahhhhh,” Clara emitted a slow, painful sound. She was crouched on the ground, holding her stomach, rocking back and forth. Like that, I snapped out of it. This was no stomachache. Apella knelt down beside her and touched Clara’s enormous belly. She nodded to me.

“We need to find some shelter,” Apella said. I knew there was only one place we could go. Joseph scooped Clara up in his arms and walked briskly towards the black holes. Deshi and Alexei were ru

When I got to mouth of the tu

Apella spread out one of our blankets and rolled another one up for Clara to rest her head on. It was cold, damp, and completely uninviting.

I had only one boot inside the tu

We collected the wood in silence. Large, dry branches had fallen from the straggly pines above and there was more than enough. Every now and then, we could hear Clara moaning in pain. The sound bellowing out of the entrance, like the tu

Deshi put his hand on my shoulder. “We better go back,” he said, his eyes full of concern for Clara. We had all grown to love her. You couldn’t help it. He actually had to pull me there quite forcefully, but we made our way back.

What I saw when we got there was not what I had expected at all. Joseph was sitting next to Clara, holding her hand. “You’re doing great,” he said kindly, ru

Clara beamed at him. “You’re lucky to be a man,” she said.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I think in this case that’s probably true.”

Clara turned to Apella, her face more serious, “How long now?” She patted her belly and leaned against the wall.

Apella whispered something quietly to her. Clara frowned for a second and then cooed at her stomach, “Not ready to come out yet, are you? I know it’s safe and warm in there but Mama wants to meet you.”

I tried not to roll my eyes at her and bent down to build a fire, watching its light transform the darkness, bringing warmth. Sometimes, Clara would close her eyes and make a noise. She was clearly in pain, but it never lasted very long. She was amazing. She made it look manageable.

I moved to her other side and held her hand. She was sweating and pale but beautiful in the firelight. Showing a woman’s strength in a delicate vessel, holding strong like a warrior. I have never admired someone more.

But after a few hours of this, she was starting to get very tired. She slept between contractions, waking with a start and then falling unconscious when they ended. I fed her small sips of water and rubbed her back.

Joseph was impressive; he helped her through every painful moment. Unlike Deshi, who was standing back from us like labor was catching.

Gritting her teeth, she screamed into the blanket. “C’mon,” Joseph said as he wiped the sweat from her forehead with his sleeve. “That was nothing. What’s all the noise about? You’re scaring the baby back in.” He winked at her. She let out a breathless laugh and tried to swat his arm. Even I had to laugh at that. They were so alike, never letting anything get to them, rising to the challenge like it was something they did every day. I touched my own stomach, wondering what lay ahead for me. I doubted I would handle things as well as Clara. Would I become an out-of-control, screaming mess? Would Joseph be able to cope with me being in that much pain? Would I even want him there?

Then it changed. The pain no longer seemed manageable. She was screaming and tearing at her clothes. One minute she wanted to stand, the next she was lying straight out on the cold, hard stone, her ear pressed to it like she was listening for something. I tried to talk to her, but it was like she had disappeared, retreated. She was in another zone—one filled with agony and waiting.

Apella asked us to get her to sit down. She needed to examine her. Clara was pacing back and forth. We gently coaxed her down to sitting.

“Is she ok? She’s acting crazy. Is this normal?” I asked, touching Apella’s rounded shoulder.

Apella didn’t look up. She was focused and talked as she worked, lying Clara down and covering her with a blanket. “She’s fine, she was like this in her last labor,” she said as she removed Clara’s boots and pants.

It hit me like a sledgehammer. I actually felt myself blown backwards against the stone wall, digging my nails into it, trying to find something to hold onto, to stop me. Stop.