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CHAPTER 4

The Baby

      THEY HAD driven about ten miles when Normalade's hand closed on Lucy's wrist, wet and cold as a little ice cube. "S-stop the truck."

      Her grip was unexpectedly strong, the wheel jerked, and the truck swerved toward the side of the road.

      "What are you doing." Lucy cried as they skidded into the shoulder. "We'll —"

      But it was too late, the tires were already spinning uselessly in soft sand. "Now you've done it. We're stuck!"

      "It's coming now Lucy!" Normalade's clammy little hand was still clutching Lucy's wrist. "Omygod — i>help me!"

      "O-okay, you . . . you just lie down." Lucy slid off the seat and crouched on the floor at the rider's side so Normalade could put her head down. She was thinking wildly — "Too tight in here — put her on the truck bed? But that's dirty. And it's so cold — "

      Normalade's breathing was now a choking gasp. She gave a terrible gurgle: "UH!"

      Her hand clamped again on Lucy's wrist; her feet were braced against the door. "Lucy — OH!" The sound hurt Lucy's ears in the enclosed space. It ended with a sob that trailed off into the same hoarse breathing.

      "N-Normalade. Y-you okay?" Lucy's ears were ringing.

      "NO! I'm NOT! I hate this," she snarled through gritted teeth. In the moonlight that shone through the windshield, Lucy could see tears dripping down the side of her face.

      Still that hoarse breathing, and then, plaintively. "It's hurting me, Lucy. Make it stop."

      But Lucy couldn't make it stop. Couldn't do anything. Couldn't even get loose from the steel grip Normalade still had on her wrist. Crouched on the floor in front of the seat, she could only peer at Normalade's face around the steering wheel. Lucy couldn't help her; she wanted it to stop, too.

      After a minute, while Normalade lay still, panting, Lucy said, "Listen, if you let go me for a minute, I'll get out and see how bad we're stuck. Maybe I can push us loose, and we can still make it to the hospital. You hold on to the wheel here, and I'll be back in a second."

      "Oh NO! No, please, Lucy. Darling, good, nice Lucy, don't go away, now. Don't leave me — don't . . ." Normalade held on harder, if possible, as the words gushed out of her. "I need . . . somebody . . . OH! I want MAMA!"

      Her little white face was now slick with sweat, and her pink soft hair was dark and wet around her forehead. "Help me — hold me safe! I'm going to die! This thing is going to kill me — " And then, as if talking to something outside the cab, or perhaps inside herself, she cried out, "STOP it, you little bastard! STOP THAT! I'm dying, now!"

      Lucy believed her. She grabbed Normalade by the shoulders as she lay there on the seat, all sticky with sweat and tears, and snarled, "Don't you dare to die. You hear me? Goddam you, Normalade, don't you dare to die." And all the time she was thinking, "Oh — let her not die. Oh please, God, don't let her die on me!"

      At Lucy's words, Normalade turned her head and looked up with eyes as clear as if she were looking up at the sky. With those baby-pure eyes, she looked up and said, "Oh, Lucy, please don't curse me. If you won't, I promise I'll try not to die."

      Hearing this, and seeing Normalade look so pure, Lucy began to cry herself. It was as if something had opened inside her. As if some hard thing had opened, and there were tears inside that began pouring out. "Oh, Normalade," she sobbed, "I won't any more, I promise." She put her head down on Normalade's chest and began crying all over her.

      Normalade let go Lucy's wrist — as if knowing she didn't have to hold on any more to make her stay — and put her arms around Lucy and they both cried together.

      Before long, though, Normalade's pains began again. She put a hand in each of Lucy's hands, and Lucy could tell from her grip each time it started. Lucy would say, "Hang on. Hang on to me, I'm here." and they would both hang on.

      During a breathing moment, Normalade said, in the same innocent way, "I'm sorry, but — you need to help me get my panties off. I don't think I can do it by myself."

      As they wrestled her out of her underwear. Lucy thought with surprise how far they were both beyond being embarrassed by that.

      When that was done, Normalade said, "Lucy, it's real good that you're helping me, when I never even liked you. Now that I've lost Bobby, I don't know what I'd do if you hadn't helped me."

      "Normalade. You haven't lost Bobby. He's your husband!"

      "Yes, but he hates me now, because he had to marry me. Mama warned me it would happen, but I never believed her." Then Normalade began panting again. She hardly had any pause between pains now, but she went on talking, as if trying to distract herself, or as if she hardly knew what she was saying. "She told me to watch out — but he was so cute, Lucy. And why shouldn't I get him if I could. She said I'd have no happiness if I stole him. But I just thought she was being mean."

      She was puffing like a little engine now. Stopping between sentences to pant. Sweating hard. "Because she was always partial to my — OH! It's hurting me! Oh NO! It hurts Lucy. Make it stop! Don't let me die!"

      "Don't die!" Lucy cried. Normalade's hands were gripping her so hard they hurt, but Lucy gasped out, "Hold on — hold on."

      "But Lucy . . . " Normalade's eyes were desperate. "I couldn't have made him do it if he hadn't wanted to, could I? And then when I found out I was pregnant I just had to . . . Oh. LUCY HELP ME!"

      She gave a tearing gasp, and then her big, moving stomach seemed to take on a life of its own. Lucy wrenched her hands loose and scrambled backward toward the car door, because — between Normalade's open legs, something was happening. It was something . . . round and reddish-purple and . . . it was so — wet-looking and kind of bloody. It was the baby.

      Lucy put out her hands to it. Hardly knowing what she was doing, she put her hands on each side of that wet bloody-looking head and held it steady as it moved out and out . . . and now somehow she was half-on the car seat with her back pressed against the door, with one of Normalade's feet against her shoulder pushing her against the car window, and Normalade made a sound somewhere between a cough and a grunt, and then Lucy was holding its little head, with wet dark hair plastered across it like a little old bald man, only a few strands pasted across his scalp. And then its shoulders came out, all hunched together, and then its little hands and elbows — all perfect. — and one more sound from Normalade and — there he was. Lucy had him all out. She had him in her hands.

      He was all wet, and warm, and as she lifted him up, he opened his little eyes with a look of pure astonishment, and then he opened his perfect little mouth — which suddenly turned down at the corners, just like a real human mouth, and the poor little old man gave a long, miserable wail.

      And of course . . . when that happened, Lucy had to hug him against her chest, wet and slippery as he was, and hold him.

      Then she noticed a long ropey thing — attached to his . . . uh! What a mess. Wait — there was something she had to do . . . didn't you have to cut the cord? Only she didn't have anything to — yes she did, too. On the key ring . . . she reached and pulled her keys out of the ignition and opened up her little penknife and cut it. And when it began to ooze she just — tied it in a knot. And then she . . . shoved the — the wet stuff . . . on the floor and . . .

      "Lucy . . ." Normalade's voice was so faint that even in this tiny space, Lucy could hardly hear her. "Is it dead?"

      "He's fine. He is fine." Now that the bad stuff was all done, and Lucy had his warm little head cuddled against her neck, it was the best feeling in the world. Reluctantly, she added, "You want to hold him?"

      "It's a boy? Aw, I'd hoped it was a . . ." Then after a long pause. "No . . . I'm going to sleep."

      "You all right Normalade?" But it was hard for Lucy to be interested in anything except the warm living creature that was snuggled against her.

      "Oh. Yeah. But I'm . . . tired." Normalade rolled over on her side and drew up her knees and gave a little sigh.

      Lucy eased herself around on the floorboards of the pickup, trying to find a comfortable position. Normalade, an arm over her face, muttered, "I'm cold."

      It was cold. While the baby was being born, the truck motor had died, and the heater had gone off. Lucy managed to stick the keys back into the ignition. The heater fan purred back into life, but it was still cold.

      Now, she thought, should she get out and look to see how deep they were in the sand? As she considered it, she stretched the loose front of her sweater around the baby and wrapped her arms around him to keep him warm. Should she move Normalade over and try to rock the pickup loose? Was there a shovel in the back, in case she needed to dig the wheels out? Probably not.

      Lucy sat there on the floor in front of the front seat, her head just missing the steering wheel, and she thought about what she could use to dig with if there was no shovel. She leaned against the cushion where Normalade lay asleep. She drew her knees up, hugging the baby close against her to keep him warm. Then she put her head down and closed her eyes, so she could think better.

      And then they were all asleep, baby and all.

      When Lucy woke, it was daylight, and she could hear the sound of a truck motor somewhere nearby.

      The door opened on the driver's side, behind Lucy's head, and a voice said, "Are you folks . . . Whoa! What happened here!" The voice sounded familiar, but Lucy couldn't see the man's face.

      Normalade lifted her head. "Hello?"

      "Ladies . . . Are you all right?"

      Normalade answered again, very faintly, but sounding more like herself. "A baby happened. I had my baby."

      "Ma'am? You just had a baby in here?"

      "Yes. A while ago." Then she tried to sit up. "Lucy? Where's my baby."

      Lucy opened her eyes. "I've got him. He's right here. He's fine." She opened her sweater a little to show his round head, still cuddled against her neck.

      The man's voice said. "You all got stuck out here? And had a baby? Right here?"

      Then after a pause, "Listen, I . . . can I take you ladies home?" By then, Lucy had realized who he was. It was Shark, the young man she was going to hire — when? Was it already tomorrow?

      Normalade said, "You could take us to Mama's. Or maybe — didn't you call some doctor, Lucy? A doctor would be better. But . . . we're kind of a mess in here."

      "Hold on." His voice retreated.

      He came back holding a moth-eaten army blanket. "Wrap up in this. Keep you warm, too; the truck's got no heat." He handed it to Normalade rather gingerly.

      "Hello Shark," Lucy said.

      "Hello, Miss Lucy. You in on this baby, too?"

      "Maybe we can drive ourselves." Lucy said, kind of vaguely. "If you can help us get out of the sand here."

      He shook his head. "Don't think so. The wheels are dug in pretty good, and —" he leaned closer, "Aw, look, your lights were on, and the engine's dead. Was it like this all night? Your battery's way down then, and I got no jumper. I better take you."

      "I ought not to leave the truck." she said. But he was right.

      "It's not going anyplace. Somebody can come out here later and get it." He held out his arms. "Come on out. Can I help you?"

      Lucy looked at Normalade, still stretched out on the seat, and she said, "Go around the other door."

      He did, and opened it and helped them both out. Even though Normalade was the one who'd done all the work, Lucy felt wrung out. She was so stiff and dizzy that the ground seemed a long way away, and for perhaps the first time in her life she was afraid she'd fall. "I . . ."

      He reached out to help her, and she said sharply, "Careful! I've got the baby."

      "That's okay. I got you." As gently if she had been a frail grandmother, he helped her down and led her to his rusty, dented pickup. She sat on the running board while he went back for Normalade and carefully helped her aboard.

      "Now you, ma'am."

      She looked up, squinting at him, seeing him outlined against the bright sky. "You're out early."

      "Hiked out here last night with gas for the truck, and I woke up when it got daylight. I was on my way back."

      Lucy climbed into the seat, the baby still cozy inside her sweater. Shark offered her something. "Here's your keys and your purse. And I turned off your lights for you."

      "Oh. Thanks."

      He closed her door and loped around the front of the pickup and got in behind the wheel. "All right now — where to?"

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