Miss Julia Rocks The Cradle Part 6

Finding it, I dialed 911, waited an interminable time before hearing, "911, what is your emergency?"

"We're having a baby! Two of them! We need help-please send some help! Hurry!"

"Calm down, ma'am. What is your location?"

I told her, then pled for an ambulance and a doctor.

"All our crews are out on emergency runs, ma'am. Can you get her to the hospital?"

"No! That's why I'm calling you. We can't get the car out. It's snowing over here and trees are falling!"

"Yes, ma'am, I understand. We have some volunteers in four-wheel-drive vehicles, so somebody'll be there as soon as possible."

"But we need help now! What am I going to do? I've never had a baby or delivered a baby and-oh, Lord, Hazel Marie! What're you doing?"

Hazel Marie had fallen back on the bed, her knees raised as she groaned deep in her throat with a sound that sent a cold s.h.i.+ver down my spine.

"Ma'am? Ma'am? " the dispatcher said with a little more urgency than she'd heretofore exhibited. "Is she crowning?"

"Is she what?" I gripped the phone hard enough to crush it, trying to understand the question.

"Crowning. Is she crowning?"

"I don't know what she's doing," I wailed. I glanced at the bed. "Hazel Marie, are you crowning?" Then to the dispatcher, "She can't talk. Please, please send some help."

Hearing another awful groan from Hazel Marie, I dropped the phone, thinking thank goodness for Etta Mae. If push came to shove, which it was fast becoming, she'd know what to do.

About that time she and Lillian, with bathrobes flapping, ran into the room, both of them exclaiming, "What's happening?" "What's going on?" "Is she in labor?" They hurried to Hazel Marie, took one look at her, and stopped cold.

"What're we going to do?" I asked, as tremors ran from my head to my feet. "All the emergency crews are busy and a tree is down. I can't get the car out-I can't even get to the car, and the power's off and we're going to freeze to death!"

"No, we're not," Etta Mae said, putting her arm around Hazel Marie's shoulders and helping her up. "Build up the fire, Miss Julia, and get some blankets and pillows. Hold on to me, Hazel Marie. We're going to the living room. Miss Lillian, spread out some newspapers on the floor. Put down some plastic trash bags too."

As Etta Mae walked Hazel Marie toward the living room, she had to stop twice as Hazel Marie bent over with deep groans. "I think it's coming," she panted. "I think it's coming!"

I ran ahead and moved the coffee table and the fireside chairs back, while Lillian spread newspapers and plastic bags on the living room floor. Then she ran to Hazel Marie and with Etta Mae's a.s.sistance managed to lay her down in front of the fire. I threw a blanket over Hazel Marie's shoulders and put a pillow under her head. Then I ran around closing all the doors to keep the heat in the room and to prevent any noise from drifting upstairs.

"Oh, Lord," Etta Mae said after a quick look. "It's coming! What do we do?" Her face was as white as a sheet.

"Don't you know?" I asked, my voice rising up the scale as I realized that my backup plan was turning out to be as futile as the original.

"I've read about it, but I've never done it," she said. "Old folks don't have babies."

Hazel Marie interrupted with a bone-grinding, bearing-down groan that even I knew presaged some kind of expulsion.

Lillian got down on her knees beside one of Hazel Marie's, took a look, and said, "Warm one of them blankets, Miss Julia, an' be ready for this baby. It comin' real soon."

I went to the fireplace to warm a blanket, which put me at Hazel Marie's feet-right in the line of sight. But I didn't look. My stomach was knotted up enough without actually seeing anything.

Lillian put her hand on Hazel Marie's abdomen. "Here come another big ole cramp. Now, Miss Hazel Marie, don't you worry none. It be a fac' that when babies come on they own like this, they don't have no problems."

Lillian worked around Hazel Marie, humming softly to calm her, then said, "One more, little mama, an' we have us a baby."

"Ah-h-h," Hazel Marie said, her neck extended and her hands scrabbling on the plastic beneath her. With a sudden gush, a tiny, wet baby slid out onto the warm blanket that I'd put in place. I thought I'd faint dead away.

"Gimme something!" Lillian said, then took the hem of her robe and wiped the baby's face. She held it up by its heels and gently patted its back until it emitted a quavery cry.

Hazel Marie lifted her head. "Is it here? Is it all right? Let me see, let me see."

"We gonna give her to you. Jus' wait a minute-this fine girl gonna have her mama in a minute. Law me, jus' look at that head of hair."

I took a look and was amazed at the thatch of black hair on that infant's head. Was that normal? I didn't know, but one thing was for sure: Mr. Pickens had made his mark.

"Miss Julia," Lillian said, turning to me, "we need us some string and some scissors, quick as you can."

String and scissors, string and scissors. I ran to the kitchen, my bare feet slapping on the floor. My mind was going ninety miles an hour while my heart fluttered in my chest as I tried to think what I could find. "Scissors, scissors," I said to myself, pulling open a drawer.

I grabbed Lillian's kitchen shears, then stopped. String? What kind of string? Sewing thread? My sewing box was upstairs, and the rough twine in the pantry wouldn't do.

Lloyd's shoelaces! There they were on the counter, still in their wrapper. I s.n.a.t.c.hed them up and ran back to the living room, the wet hem of my gown flopping around my ankles.

"Perfect!" Etta Mae said, as I handed them to her. She knelt down, tore off the wrapper, then looked at Lillian. "What do I do with it?"

"Tie it on real tight here and here," Lillian said, pointing, but I didn't look to see where.

"Now cut it right about here," Lillian said, guiding the kitchen shears, as Etta Mae did the snipping. Lillian whispered a few more words of instruction, then she wrapped the baby in the warm blanket and laid it in Hazel Marie's arms.

There is nothing in this world more beautiful than a mother's face as she holds her newborn. I could've cried, as she was doing, with relief, until I remembered that we had another one to go. Or rather, to come.

Chapter 12.

By this time I was shaking all over, my hands trembling and my heart racing. Yet a swelling relief flooded my soul-we'd delivered a baby with no trouble at all. I sank down in a chair, unable to stand a minute longer. You'd think I'd had that baby myself.

Lillian and Etta Mae were sitting back on the floor, resting as Hazel Marie crooned to her new little girl.

"What're we waiting for?" I asked. "Can't we do something and get this over with? Or maybe," I went on brightly, "it'll wait till some help gets here."

"No'm," Lillian said with her hand on Hazel Marie, "'less they comin' in the door right now, 'cause she crankin' up again."

And she was, her face getting that intense look on it and a low moan coming from her throat.

"Miss Julia," Lillian said as she hunched over Hazel Marie's nether parts, "take that baby an' hold it while this one's a-comin'."

Never in my life had I held a newborn and I didn't know how to hold it or what to do with it. But Hazel Marie was now concentrating on the next one, so I had to take up the little bundle whether I knew what I was doing or not.

Easing stiffly onto a chair, I cradled the baby in my arms, so fearful of doing some irreparable damage that would maim it for life. I could feel it move inside the blanket, although there was more blanket than baby, and I was afraid the baby would slide right out of my arms. Then it starting mewling, sounding like a kitten. "Is this one all right?" I asked, holding it away from me. "It's about to cry."

Lillian didn't even look up from her ministrations. "Hold it close, Miss Julia, so it hear yo' heart beatin' an' it be all right."

Well, they Lord, I thought, is that all it takes? I cradled the baby a little closer, not wanting to crush it, and felt it nestle in.

Hazel Marie was panting by this time, her arms outstretched with fingers clutching at the plastic. Poor thing, she was going through it all again, and my stomach cramped up along with hers. It was almost more than I could take, but I didn't dare stand up and try to walk with a baby in my arms. So I sat there and watched and listened as Hazel Marie labored and sweated and moaned and bit her lip and struggled to bring another infant into the world.

"You can scream if you want to, Hazel Marie," Etta Mae said. "It's all right."

"No," she gasped. "Lloyd might hear."

And right then I realized again how much depth there was to Hazel Marie, in spite of her affinity for heavy makeup, short skirts, and sky-high heels. She had an inner strength that was seeing her through this ordeal as it had a few other trials and tribulations along the way. Of all the occasions in the world when a woman has license to scream and yell her head off, this was it. Yet she was concerned about disturbing her son.

I wondered if she was giving Mr. Pickens a thought, and if she was, if she still figured he was worth what she was going through. He was undoubtedly piled up in bed at a Motel 6, snoring away without a care in the world, while Hazel Marie was here paying the price. Although there'd been times in my life when I'd regretted having no children, what I was witnessing made me glad I was past my prime and in no danger of paying that particular price.

Suddenly with another gush and a muted cry from Hazel Marie, Lillian said, "I got it, I got it. Hold on now, we jus' about done."

I could see her wiping another little naked black-haired baby, patting its back, then beginning to wrap it in the throw that Etta Mae had warmed. "You better cry now," Lillian said, quickly unwrapping it and dangling it upside down. "Lemme hear you cry," she urged as she gave it a right smart slap on the back.

The baby gasped, then let out a quavering wail, its little arms waving in the air and its body trembling all over.

"Is it all right?" Hazel Marie cried, craning her head to see what was going on. "Is it breathing?"

"It breathin', all right," Lillian said, smiling, as the baby took a deep breath and let us know in no uncertain terms that it had emerged unscathed. "An' this one got a real set of lungs on it. Jus' listen to it. You got another fine girl, an' Mr. Pickens gonna be struttin' 'round here so bad that none of us be able to stand him." She and Etta Mae went through the string and scissors procedure again, then Lillian wrapped the infant snugly and laid it in Hazel Marie's arms.

I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, utterly overcome with what we'd accomplished. Two babies delivered alive and well in the midst of a ferocious storm. It was more than I could take in, but it was over and as far as I could tell, no harm done at all. This would be something to talk about at the next book club.

I sat up and asked, "Can we get her on the sofa now and wrap her up?"

"No'm, not yet," Lillian said, her hand kneading Hazel Marie's abdomen. "Miss Etta Mae, we gonna need a pan of some kind. Run get that Dutch oven outta the kitchen."

I was stunned. "Don't tell me there's a third one in there!"

"No'm, we jus' got to finish up here," Lillian said.

Etta Mae returned with the Dutch oven, and she and Lillian bent over Hazel Marie again, delivering something else that I didn't see and didn't care to see. The baby stirred in my arms and one little arm flailed out of the blanket as it started kicking. I patted it and began rocking back and forth, hoping it would calm down.

Etta Mae took the other baby from Hazel Marie so Lillian could turn her and clean her up. That was another thing I couldn't watch. I declare, you might as well hang up your modesty the minute you find yourself with child.

Lillian warmed another blanket and spread it on the sofa. Then she helped Hazel Marie into it and wrapped her up. After putting a pillow behind her head, Lillian said, "Le's give them babies to her now an' they all get some rest."

Etta Mae and I laid a baby in each of Hazel Marie's arms. Her face glowed as she held them close. "You're sure they're all right?" she asked, then laughed. "I need to count their fingers and toes, but I don't have a free hand to do it."

Hearing a rumbling, grinding noise outside and seeing the flash of lights and the sound of motors, I hurried to a front window. "Well, would you look at that. They're finally here."

The snowplow went on past and was soon lost to sight in the falling snow, but two oversized pickups had stopped in the middle of the street. Four dark, bundled-up figures disembarked from the trucks, leaving headlights on and motors running, as they struggled through the snow toward our door, the strong beams of their flashlights lighting up the yard. I could see huge oak branches stretching across the driveway and covering our cars.

Opening the door, I barely recognized Sergeant Coleman Bates in a heavy coat and a knit cap that covered his face. He and the others stomped their feet, then came in. I quickly closed the door to keep what heat we had inside.

"Hey, Miss Julia," Coleman said. "Hear you need some help."

"I should say we do, or at least we did. Just look what's happened." I motioned toward Hazel Marie and her armful with some pride at what we'd accomplished.

Hazel Marie beamed at Coleman. "Look, Coleman. Two little girls."

"Beautiful," he said, but he wasn't really looking. "We're going to get you to the hospital now. Miss Lillian, we'll need a few more blankets, please, ma'am."

"But, the ambulance . . .?" I started, knowing there was no ambulance out there.

"All we have are four-wheel-drive double-cab vehicles, Miss Julia," Coleman explained. "Only way we can get around. Douglas, you take one baby and, Len, you take the other one. Wrap 'em up good and don't fall. Hazel Marie, I'm gonna carry you to the truck." He leaned down and picked her up as if she were as light as a feather, which she probably was after such a sudden loss of weight. Lillian wrapped another blanket around her as Coleman nodded to the fourth man. "Chris, beat a path for us and get the back doors open."

"Oh, Lord," I said, "don't anybody drop anybody."

Etta Mae suddenly appeared beside me, pulling on her coat and stepping into her boots. "I'm going with them."

"Oh good. Call us on Hazel Marie's cell phone and let us know when you get settled. We'll be over as soon as we can get out."

"I'll come get you when I get off," Coleman said. "Around eight, unless we're still shorthanded."

As Coleman turned sideways to get Hazel Marie through the door, I saw the lines of fatigue on her face and wanted to comfort her. "You were wonderful, Hazel Marie," I said. "I'm so proud of you."

She managed a tired smile. "Call J.D. for me," she said, as Lillian reached out and pulled the blanket over her head.

Lillian and I watched as the laden troop slogged through the drifts to the trucks. The two men with the babies got into the backseat of one truck, and Coleman lifted Hazel Marie into the backseat of the other one, with Etta Mae following her. Then Coleman and the fourth man got behind the wheels, put the powerful engines into gear, and slowly edged away down the street.

"Well, Lillian," I said, as we closed the door, "we've done a night's work, haven't we?" Then, as we both went to stand in front of the fire, I reconsidered. "No, you've done a night's work. Oh, Lillian," I said, leaning my head against her shoulder, "what would we have done without you?"

Chapter 13.

Lillian patted my back. "Ever'body do a good job tonight," she said. Then with a shuddering breath which made me realize the strain she'd been under, she looked around. "We better get this room cleaned up. Them chil'ren be up 'fore long."

"What time is it, anyway?"

"No tellin'. All the clocks is stopped down here, but it late. Or maybe real early. An' you know what, Miss Julia? We didn't see what time them babies come."

"I didn't even think of it," I said, wondering at my lapse. "I'll run upstairs and get my watch." Then, feeling the cold even more, I said, "and get some warm clothes on too. My feet are about frozen with this wet gown clinging to them."