The Woodlands

Apella, unaware of the information she had let slip, peered between Clara’s legs, completely unaware of my growing anger.

“What do mean, her last labor?” I stammered, my lips barely able to commit to speaking. I was trembling with rage, with fear. This wasn’t Clara’s first pregnancy. I moved towards Apella, my body sliding off the edge, slow. I was so close to her face that I barely had to speak for her to hear me.

“How many babies has she had?” I hissed through clenched teeth. She looked away, biting her lip. I grabbed her, squeezing her thin arms, hard. I pulled her away from Clara for a moment. “Look at me. How many?”

“Four,” she said in a barely audible whisper. She sighed it. Four. Like it could be exhaled and expelled from her conscience.

Before anyone could stop me, I slapped her as hard as I could. “You’re a monster,” I screamed, my voice echoing down the tu

She touched her hand to the already bright red handprint on her pale cheek. “I know,” she said quietly as she returned to tending to Clara. Joseph had a hold of me now, but even he was struggling to hold me back. If he hadn’t, I would have strangled her.

Clara was sitting up now, looking at the three of us. Scared. I don’t think she heard us but she was startled out of her dream state by my screaming. I felt sick at the thought that she didn’t know. She didn’t know she’d had four babies taken away from her. It would kill her. I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to breathe when all I wanted to do was scream. Clara needed our help now. Whatever problems Apella and I had would have to wait.

I returned to Clara, wiping the sweat from her face. Her once springy curls were plastered to her forehead. I felt so protective of her. I wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and run away from here. Like if we ran fast enough, arms linked together, somehow we could escape the pain. Apella finished her examination. She said she didn’t have long to go. I was hoping she would say it was time to push, but no.

Clara said she wanted to stand so we tried to help her to her feet. The contractions were so close together she didn’t even get halfway up before she was screaming again. When she stood, I could see she was sitting in a pool of blood. I hadn’t noticed before that Apella and I were both bloodied as well. It was dripping over the ledge and onto the railway line, spreading like a ghastly, growing shadow.

Deshi and Alexei were standing back, keeping the fire going. They looked worried. We were all worried.

Clara started to speak, in breathless whispers between the contractions. She was in so much pain; it was agonizing to see her this way. “I can’t, I can’t. It’s too hard, please,” she whispered.

Joseph took her burning face in his hands, forcing her to focus on him. “Listen to me, you can do this, it’s nearly over. Then you will see your baby.” She blinked once, listening to him. She took a deep breath and focused all her energy on this last task. The pains were on top of each other, leaving barely a second to breathe. But she stopped screaming. She bore down and took control. I could almost see light shining from within her. White hot in its intensity.

It took two hours to get to the point where Apella said she could push. Clara was beyond exhausted, but the reminder that she would soon see her child sustained her right to the end. We lifted her tiny body to a squatting position, Joseph and I holding her up by her arms. It felt like holding nothing. She was air and light. Apella told her that on the next contraction she had to push. I don’t know where she found the strength, but she took a breath and let out an almighty scream. Joseph cried out that he could see the head. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t look.

Clara held herself in that position, waiting for the next assault of pain to tell her to push the baby’s body out. She did this quietly—eyes squeezed tightly shut, body and face tense. Her usually dark skin looked pale, ghostly in the firelight. And then there was a baby in Apella’s arms. A screaming creature, covered in blood and muck. Clara held out her hands eagerly and Apella placed the child across her chest. A boy.

Joseph was gri

She didn’t respond, too engrossed in the baby boy clinging to her chest.

Apella was busy cutting the cord with instruments she pulled from her mysterious pack. So that’s what was in there, medical supplies. Joseph had walked over to Deshi and Alexei, all smiles, relieved. The baby screamed again. Clara was still. The poor girl must have been so tired. Her eyes were closed lightly, her arms haphazardly flopped across her body. I motioned to Alexei; he came staggering over like he’d just been in labor. “Can you take the baby? We should let her get some rest,” I said. He took the child, wrapping him up tightly, just his springy, black hair poking out the top of the blanket. Clara didn’t move. I swept the hair back from her face, her cold face. It left a smear of blood like a brand across her forehead.

No.

I looked to Apella. She took Clara’s limp hand in her own, her fingers on her wrist, searching for a pulse. She shook her head minutely. She checked again, putting her head to Clara’s chest, tears forming and spilling down her cheeks. I stood. Joseph took broad steps towards me and I slipped, feeling cold liquid soaking into my clothes.

No, no, no.

The panic was rising. My mouth felt dry, bile rising in my throat. I slid off the ledge and pushed Apella out of the way. I grabbed both of Clara’s arms and pulled her towards me. “Wake up!” I yelled. Knowing she wouldn’t, knowing she couldn’t open her beautiful brown eyes and smile at me. The light was out. She slumped forward and fell to the side, limp like a ragdoll. Blood. There was so much blood.

Somewhere inside of me, something snapped. It shattered and splintered, sending slithers of debris coursing through my veins, grating and fraying the sides. I held onto the metal bar of the railway line, like it was the only thing stopping me from sinking into the ground. The sun was rising, light penetrating the darkness, showing the devastation the night had hidden from our eyes.

It was over.

She was gone.

My beautiful sister.

I crumpled like a piece of paper in a flame, disintegrating to dust.

I don’t know how long I stayed there. I heard muffled voices—people moving around me, sharp rocks clunking dully together.

Strong arms tried to pull me up from where I squatted, head between my knees, clinging to the rail. A baby cried. Someone punched the wall. I stayed there still.

The light was touching my hands, bare-knuckle white. My body tensed. Someone was talking to me, but it was like I was underwater. His voice warbled and I couldn’t make sense of it.

I was teetering on the edge of a precipice, wind in my hair, staring down into blackness. With all my courage, all my energy, I made the choice. I let go and I let myself fall, endlessly falling, cold air pulling my hair up over my head.

One finger at a time, detached. Tick, tick, tick. Heavy cloth shrouded me.

He picked me up in a blanket and walked outside. Silent. It was bright. I closed my eyes and focused on his footfalls on the solid earth. Thump, thump, thump. I felt us descending. I opened my eyes and it was cooler, darker.