Think About Icebergs: Their New Life

Ray had to take her word for what she'd found in the small, dark bedroom while he stood guard in the main room. Going into the darkened bedroom she'd heard movement and the squeak of bed springs - a quiet moaning. Hurrying back into the main room she'd demanded a candle or lantern, the old woman had said something about it 'not helping her none' but handed over a lamp and extension cord. Ray held the 'blanket' to one side so Alli could find the outlet in the room, plugging in the lamp and revealing the body of the young woman laying in the bed. She'd been beaten badly and seemed only semi-conscious, the reek of alcohol growing stronger the closer she got to the bed. She was also hugely pregnant and from a cursory examination, appeared to be in advanced labor.

The facts of her pregnancy and her beating stirred an age old, blinding rage in Alli, but gritting her teeth she knew she needed to concentrate on mother and baby for now. Heading back into the main room she took the rifle from Ray's hands, telling him quickly what she needed from the supplies. Turning back to the inhabitants she'd asked which had beaten the girl and, as she'd assumed, the man grinned a foolish drunken grin of pride, claiming again that 'the lazy bitch wouldn't get up and fix him no breakfast'.

"That's because she's in labor you stupid FUCK!"

Ray heard that, and the sound of his gun butt hitting something solid - he assumed it was the man's head until his howls of pain and rage filled the room spilling outside, "You BROKE my fucking HAND!"

Ray was back inside in a flash, handing off the supplies to Alli and passing her his big bowie knife, taking the gun back from her he'd looked levelly at the older man, stating, "Lucky it wasn't me. I'd have gutted you. Now siddown and shut up!" Watching the other narrowly as he sat down, nursing the bottle of Wild Turkey carefully while the old woman wrapped his hand in some dingy rags.

Alli, meanwhile, had a serious struggle on her hands. The baby was a breach presentation and the mother was young, narrow in the hips and only semi-conscious from the beating and from alcohol intoxication. Whether she drank voluntarily or whether the alcohol had been forced on her was impossible to tell, but either way, it did not help matters any. It took several hours of exhausting struggle before the baby arrived in a rush of blood impossible to staunch, and for several moments Alli worried she might lose both mother and her infant daughter. In the end however, the baby survived, wailing lustily and searching against Alli's shirtfront for the sustenance and comfort she instinctively knew resided therein. Examining the baby carefully in the light from the lamp Alli found signs of fetal alcohol syndrome. Impossible for her to tell, under the circumstances just how severe the baby's problems might be, the clearest sign at this point being the flattened philtrum, but looking at the flattened groove in the middle of the little one's upper lip Alli was afraid of what her life might be like here in this house with these people.

Wrapping the tiny body in as clean a Tshirt as she could find, folding another around her narrow little bottom and bundling the baby girl into a towel she went back into the main room. Sitting at the table in exhaustion she explained about the infant's birth and her mother's death. The man snorted and muttered about, "another useless female mouth to feed", and Alli went on to explain that the state and the tribe would provide benefits for the little one due to her expected impairments and listed the possibilities starting with mental retardation, deafness and naming all those she could recall. The more she spoke the more the man's muttering and complaining increased until, Ray explained, it was impossible to ignore any longer. Alli finally asked him outright, 'I take it you do not want your daughter', and sat impassive through the vituperative spew that flew from the other's mouth. She asked him again, and a third time, finally telling the old man and his mother that she would take the baby but that they both had to make their marks on the paper she gave them, giving up all their rights to the child and to any benefits that would accrue to her.

Ray had found a ewe with a full bag in the sheep pen and milked her (much to both their distress and Alli's tired laughter) for the baby but they were running out of the milk, despite having ridden all night to get back to camp. Douglas had been sent back to the last farm in hopes of trading a horse or two for some nanny goats - an unfair trade they all acknowledged but it was necessary until Alli's milk came in.

Max sat during the telling of the story, stunned and silent at the nightmare Alli had faced with such strength - but when Ray said THAT his jaw fell open again.

"But.....She didn't.....I mean.....How can she......"

Ray shrugged, "I dunno. There's old stories about it happening with old grannies and aunties when the need was there, but I thought they were old wives' tales. But she's the nurse and she says it's possible..."

Glancing at the sky and the distance of the sun above the horizon he added, "Time to wake her though. You go ahead, I'm gonna see if I can't circle out and find Johnny."

Heading into the shallow cave Max found Alli already awake, her shirt open and the baby angrily sucking at one of her fat brown nipples. Bending to kiss her he was reassured by the way her lips clung to his that she'd gotten some rest and was feeling at least slightly better.

"How's the baby?"

"Hungry more than anything, at least as far as I can tell right now.... Max......baby you don't mind do you?"

"Alli! From what Ray told me you could hardly have done anything else...."

"I....to be honest, I was afraid they were going to expose her. It doesn't happen often and no one ever admits to it or talks about it, but there HAVE been some suspicious deaths over the years, especially during the winters....." She trailed off, as though troubled, even to have to admit this to him.

Sitting next to her and folding back the blanket from the baby's face he was startled to see what a full head of black hair she had.

"So," he began. "we can't keep calling her 'she' and 'her'......she needs a name."

"I know, baby. I just haven't had time to think about it yet."

"And you're fairly certain that the Elders will let us keep her?"

He stroked the baby's tiny hand where the fist was pressed tight to Ally's breast and to his surprise her hand opened and the little fingers clung to his larger one - like a bird sitting on his finger he thought - only with a surprisingly firm grip. Alli nodded in response to his question.

"Once I tell them the story, yes....."

Looking at Ally with, he knew, a rather broad, silly smile on his face, he said, "Then her name is Raven.......Raven Roberts!"

(To be continued.....)