This is the first chapter of a piece of fiction (with facts intertwined) that I wrote for a friend. Haha. Enjoy.
---
Clack clack clack clack.
Slosh.
The door to
the master’s bedroom swung open. The room was dimly lit being that the only
source of light was a tiny flame on the dresser. There was a four poster bed
with white beddings. A circular velvet rug adorned the shiny oak wood floor.
The doors of the wooden wardrobe creaked.
But all
attention was directed towards the woman in the bed located at the right side
of the room. She was sweating profusely. The mattress was wet, her nightgown
soaked from the waist down. She was breathing deeply, her face was red and it contorted
in pain.
The baby was
coming.
The maid made
a move to approach her but was stopped by a commanding baritone voice
originating from the bathroom. “Start the car!” it said. The owner of the voice
was a man in his late 30s. His complexion was fair in contrast to that of his
wife’s which was a golden brown. His hair was greying at the sides, his
countenance stern, but his eyes betray what he was currently feeling.
His wife was
in pain and he needs to get her to the hospital!
The maid
nodded and rushed out of the room. He could hear his wife’s laboured breathing.
He doused his face with cold water. He needed to calm his nerves. Now was not
the time to panic!
His wife woke
him up in the middle of the night, complaining about an ache in her belly.
Thinking that it was because of the draft, he walked over to the window and
sealed them shut. An hour later he woke up to someone grasping his hand. “She’s
coming.” Was all she said, and alarm bells started ringing.
“Sir, the car
is ready.”
He walked out
of the room, grabbed the first clean shirt he could find, wore it, and strode
over to his wife’s side. He didn’t worry about the clothes, they can come
later. It was already two in the morning, so the trip will be quick.
“Lord,
please.” He uttered as he took in his wife’s appearance. Her upper lip was
trembling. Her mouth was agape, exhaling sharply. Her chest rose rapidly, and
her brows knit tightly together. Without much effort, he lifted her up in his
arms. She clung to him. He can feel her body shake against his.
“This is all
your fault.” She whispered vehemently, cracking a smile. This was her second
child, and after the first she told him never again. The pain was unbearable,
even though the child was outrageously adorable. But her husband knew just what
to say to make her give in. This time would be the last. She’ll make sure of it.
He smiled. “It’s
not my fault you couldn’t resist me.” Leave it to her to crack a joke at this
time. He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and proceeded out the room.
“I’m already
in pain and you still manage to bully me.”
He chuckled.
At least some of the tension was lifted. “She’s pretty impatient isn’t she?” he
asked her as they made their way down the stairs. Who placed these damned steps
in the way?
“Like her father.” She was starting to calm down. Her breathing evened out.
“Stay awake.”
He told her.
“No problem
there.” She replied weakly, her head on his chest and her arms around his neck.
She listened to the erratic beating of his heart. He was also nervous. “I’ll be
fine.”
“Sir?”
He turned.
There in the
maid’s arms was his daughter, Sarah. Five years of age. She was wearing her favourite
yellow PJs with a floral print. Her mop of wavy chestnut brown hair resembled a
bird’s nest on her head. She woke up from the ruckus and was now eyeing her
mother in her father’s arms. “Daddy?”
“Mommy’s going
to be all right.” His wife replied with a smile. His daughter looked up at him.
He nodded. “I’ll be right back with your baby sister.”
The girl
beamed. “She’s coming?” the smile immediately faded as she took in her mother’s
appearance. “Why is mommy sweating so much? Does she hurt? Why is my sister
hurting mommy?” she asked.
“Mommy is
just feeling hot. Your sister is not hurting me.”
“But mommy
looks hurt…” his wife shook her head. “Daddy, get mommy some ice cream so she
won’t feel hot anymore. My sister might like it too.”
His wife
smiled. “I bet she’ll like it… very much. Chocolate ice cream is your
favourite, right?”
The girl
nodded happily. “Yes!”
“I’ll get you
some when I get back. But now, daddy has to get your mommy to the hospital. The
doctor is going to help bring your baby sister out of mommy’s tummy.” If it
weren’t for their present situation, she would have laughed. This was the first
time she had ever heard her husband talk baby to their firstborn. He must
really be worried. She grinned inwardly, stroking the back of his neck
tenderly. “Don’t make fun of me. We need to get you to the hospital.” He
whispered back to her.
“Oh.” Sarah replied, unknown of the brief exchange between husband and wife. “OK.”
She tried
hard not to wince. The baby was coming… fast. “Now go back to sleep. Get your
sister’s room ready for mommy, OK?”
Sarah nodded and watched as her father walked out of the house with her mommy. She
turned her attention to the woman carrying her.
“Ate, will mommy be all right?”
The maid
looked at the girl’s questioning light brown eyes. She sighed and did what she
knew was best: she nodded.
***
The rest of
the populace was still snug under the covers. Several delivery trucks and buses
passed them by. The drivers and passengers were all bleary-eyed or fast asleep,
some looking out of their windows with a blank stare. He was tempted to floor
it, but he couldn’t risk being so reckless at this time of day.
“No rush.”
His wife said. How can she be so collected at a time like this?
They arrived
at the hospital with ease. Good thing the baby didn’t come during rush hour. He
got out of the car and signalled two nurses to the car. They brought with them
a wheel chair, but they were much too slow for him that he decided to carry his
wife to the emergency room himself. “Is there an available room?” he asked. He
towered over them, not one nurse answered. He sighed. “She’s going into labour.
Is there a room available?” the nurses looked at each other, silently urging
the other to answer for them. Thankfully one took initiative and replied,
“There is, sir. But we must get her to the delivery room.”
***
“There’s no
go with this one. We have to do caesarean.” They’ve been at it for an hour. The
baby was too big. “This would be her
first, yes?” the doctor asked the man beside him.
“Her first
C-section? Yes, it is.”
“With your
permission, sir. We have to proceed with the C-section.”
“Whatever you
think is best.”
Several
minutes later, a loud wail resonated throughout the hall.
***
She opened
her eyes. “Where am I?” Sunlight was dancing on the walls. This wasn’t their
room. Her eyes got accustomed to the light; she got a whiff of chlorine.
“You’re up.”
She
recognized that voice and directed her attention to where it came from. There,
clad in the shirt he was wearing early this morning, was her husband. He was
smiling grandly at her. She smiled back, only then to notice a small bundle in
his arms. She stared at him. Then everything that happened several hours ago
rushed back in. “I had a baby…” her voice was hushed. If it weren’t for him
looking at her intently, he would have missed her utterance of disbelief.
“Yeah. You
did.” He laughed lightly. The baby was fast asleep.
Still
shocked, the only thing she could muster asking was, “How is she?”
Her husband
let out a hoot. “She is apparently a HE.”
She blinked.
“You gave
birth to a son. A handsome, cute, healthy son.” That said, he stood up from the
watcher’s couch and walked up to her. “He has yet to feel his mother’s touch.
You’ve been out for a while.”
By instinct,
her arms rose up to receive the sleeping new born. He was wrapped in blue cloth,
his skin fair just like his father, and his cheeks ablush. He was so small with
a tuft of dark brown hair on his small head. He started to squirm. With a brief
rub of its nose, he opened his eyes slowly. Light brown eyes, just like her
husband’s, staring right at her.
“He’s
adorable…”
“Of course he
is. He’s my son.”
Her heart was
fit to bursting. A son! His mouth quirked up a bit… then it let out a cry!
“He’s hungry.” Her husband pointed out with a guffaw. He helped her untie the
knot of the hospital gown behind her. She pulled down the cloth, exposing her
nipple. Drops of milk appeared at the tip. With some gentle prodding, the baby
took it in and sucked. She grinned.
“What do we
name him?”
“Hm… a lot of
people misspell my surname. Only a few can even pronounce it correctly. Perhaps we should give him an easy name.”
“Why?”
“He might be
stupid.”
“Isn’t it a
too early to come up with that conclusion?”
“How about
‘Jack'?”
She looked
down at the baby in her arms, suckling peacefully at her breast. “Jack Vermeulen. I like the sound of that.”
No comments:
Post a Comment