Moontrap - Don Berry (23 page)

"She's in back. Don't worry."

After a second he made out the speaker. It was Dr.
Beth, sitting relaxed at the table, with her bag of instruments
beside her.

"What's happening? What's happening?"
Monday started for the door that separated the back sleeping room
from the main room.

"
Your wife is having a baby," Dr. Beth said
dryly

The door was locked, and Monday rattled the handle.
"Mary? Mary?" From inside the room Virginia said, "You
wait." There was a murmur of low conversation he could not
distinguish. Finally Virginia's voice came again. "You wait."

Monday paced back away from the door. "What's
wrong? W'hat's happening?"

Beth stood up and went to the cupboard, saying,
"There's nothing wrong. Now sit down here and relax your mind."
She brought back a tin cup from the cupboard and put it on the table.
From her bag she took a quart bottle of watery liquid and poured the
cup half full. "Here," she said to Monday. "Relax your
nerves."

"
I don't need relaxin'," Monday said. He
sniffed the cup and it was just whisky after all, so he gulped it
down. The burning choked him and made his eyes water, but it felt
good in his belly. Beth quietly filled the cup again. "You best
sit down," she said. "There's nothin' you can do now."

Monday sat down and ran his hand across the top of
his head. From the closed room there was a faint sound that might
have been a moan. He started half up again and Beth's strong hand
pressed him down.

"It's all right, " she said. "It's all
right. She's in labor."

"Why the hell didn't somebody call me?"

"You're here, aren't you? I sent the little girl
soon as I got here."

"
Who told you?"

"Nobody. I just dropped by to see."

"You mean they were—those two were going to—"
Monday stopped. "Oh, god," he muttered. "If anything
goes wrong—"

"
Nothing's going to go wrong," Beth said.
"Here." She pushed the cup over toward him again.

Monday drank, and looked around. The room was more
distinct now, as his eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness. He
stood up and walked to the front door, then back again. "Why
ain't you in there helping?" he demanded.
 

Beth looked at the table. After a moment she said,
"They won't let me in either."

"
Why the hell not?" Without waiting for an
answer he went to the closed door and put his ear against it. There
was only a low rustle of Virginia's voice, and he could not
understand what she was saying. He went back to the table. "When
did it start?"

"This morning," Beth said.

"Why the hell didn't somebody call me?"

"Now sit down. There's nothing you can do except
get excited, and that's no help to Mary."

There was the sound of a key in the closed door.
Virginia opened it just enough to squeeze through. Blocking it with
her body, she turned and locked it again.

"Is she all right? There's nothing wrong?"

"She is fine," Virginia said. "It
takes time. Many hours sometimes."

From the closed room there was another moan, louder
this time.

"There's something wrong," Monday said. He
started for the door, but Virginia stood blocking it.

"No," she said.

"I heard her holler," Monday said. "I
want to see Mary."

"
She is not hurt," Virginia said. "You
understand, she is working. She works very hard now."

"Listen, Virginia, let me see her. Why can't I
see her?"

"
You give her one more thing to think of,"
Virginia said. "What she has is enough. She must work now. You
understand, when you hunt, you don't want a woman around. This is a
woman's work, she does not want a man around."

"
God damn it, Virginia! I'm her husband! She
wants me in there, I know it."

Wrginia shook her head. "No. For now, you are
just a man. This is between her and the baby now."

Monday stared at her, hurt and not understanding.

Beth stood and took his elbow. "She's right,
friend. You're a stranger here. You best sit down and have another
drink." She led him back to the table and the cup.

"Listen, that's my baby too," Monday said.
He was beginning to feel a little dizzy, and he sat down.

"What you had to do you done nine months ago,
and enjoyed it, too. You leave Mary work in peace."

Virginia nodded and turned back to the door, began to
unlock it. There was a sudden, surprised grunt of effort from inside,
and Monday started up again. Beth pushed the cup toward him and he
sat down.

Without turning, Beth said, "It's like I said,
isn't it?"

After a moment Yirginia said quietly "Yes."
She slipped back into the dark room and locked the door again.

"
What's like you said? What'd y' say?"
Monday asked.

"Drink up, Monday. There's different ways a baby
can come, is all. I said I thought it was coming one particular way."

"
How?"

"Head up," Beth said casually.

"
What's that mean?"

Beth shrugged. "Means he didn't turn around, is
all. Sometimes——" She hesitated. "Sometimes it takes a
little longer that way"

Monday reached for the bottle and found to his
amazement it was half empty. He decided it must have been partly
empty to begin with. "Head up," he muttered. "Don't
know what the hell that means, head up."

"It's what we call breech birth." Beth
looked down at the table, locking her fingers together tightly and
squeezing until she could feel pain, and the knuckles turned white.
"Means he'll be a great warrior," she said.

After a while Monday was vaguely surprised to see the
stocky figure of Beth silhouetted against the fire, and the light of
candles all around. It was a good idea, he thought, the house was so
damned dark. The bottle in front of him was still full, and he could
not understand having thought it had been half emptied. He reached
for it.

The door to the back room opened and Virginia came
out again. Her fists were clenched, and her face was wet with
perspiration. Her hair, usually pulled tightly back, had fallen down
and was hanging disheveled around her shoulders, strands plastered to
her cheeks and forehead from the sweat.

She looked silently at Doctor Beth.

"Listen—" Monday started, but his tongue
was thick and he couldn't get it all out right away. He had been
thinking it out for a long time.

"
You come now," Virginia said to Beth.

The stocky white woman stood at the table, resting
the palms of her hands flat on the planks. She looked back at
Wrginia, her face set in an expression of fierce triumph. Finally she
nodded.

She turned to the fireplace, where a kettle of hot
water still steamed, and began to roll up her sleeves.

"
Listen," Monday said again. "I wanna
tell y' somethin'."

Beth washed her arms and hands carefully, scrubbing
with the harsh soap and brush. She held them up in front of her,
smiling to herself at how white they were. She turned to look at the
Indian woman still standing tensely in the doorway.

"It is good you stayed," Virginia said
quietly.

Beth got up and went to Virginia. "Didn't have
any notion t' go," she said.

"Listen.'" Monday said as loud as he could.
When both women were watching him he said very carefully, "I
ain't no stranger to my wife."

Beth sighed. "No, friend, you're the center of
the universe."

She turned toward the bedroom and stopped again,
turning back toward Monday. "If you're going to vomit go
outside," she said. Then the two women closed the door behind
them.

It was a pretty damn stupid thing to say, in Monday's
opinion. He snorted. But it was true he could use a little fresh air.
The cabin was stuffy, and it made him a little uncomfortable.
Carefully he refilled the tin cup, concentrating on it to make
himself forget the stuffiness of the cabin.

He hoisted himself up from the table, amazed at what
a terrible distance there was to cover before he was standing erect.
He leaned on his hands and precisely focused his eyes on the cup. He
was quite pleased. He could tell just exactly where it was, by the
reflected light from the candles.

Hooraw, he thought. Powerful drunk out, t'night. And
such a pretty day, too. He could never remember seeing the sun so
big. Experimentally he took one hand off the table, and it upset his
balance only a little. He picked up the cup and started for the door.
He remembered Mary and began to tiptoe very quietly, so as not to
disturb her. It was not long at all before he had reached the
doorframe, and he rested his forehead against it for a minute to
think things over. Then he heard the plod of horse's hoofs in the
distance. Somebody coming. Good. He'd give them a little drink, if he
knew them. lf he didn't know them, he wouldn't give them a goddamn
drop. That was just how uneasy he was, he wouldn't give them a damn
thing.

Carefully he pulled up the door latch. You're a son
of a bitch, he thought morosely. Man's got a turrible dry an' you
won't even give 'im a little drink.

He walked out the door, and a long shaft of yellow
light darted out ahead of him. God damn! he thought. It sure got
night quick.

"Hey!" he hollered at the approaching
horses. "Who blew out the sun?"

There was no answer, but after a second the horses
came into the range of the light from the door.

"
Hooraw
,
coons!" Monday hollered. It was Meek and Webb. He grabbed the
porch post with one arm and lifted the cup in salute. "Damn y'r
eyes," he said.

He started off the porch to meet them as they came
up, but somehow or other one foot got entangled with the other, and
he started to tip forward very, very slowly.

Meek darted forward as Monday pitched headlong off
the porch. As the toppling figure lunged toward him Bleek grabbed the
extended cup with both hands. Monday plowed face down in the dirt,
his hand still outstretched. Meek looked into the cup.

"
Spill much?" Webb asked.

" '
Bout half, I expect," Meek said with
disappointment.

"Y're a damn fast nigger anyways," Webb
said admiringly. "Give us a drop."

On the ground between them Monday began to vomit, his
body undulating limply with the spasms.

"
I b'lieve that nigger's sick," Webb said.
"Jaybird, you sick?" He nudged Monday with the toe of his
moccasin and, getting no response, squatted down beside him. He
hollered in his ear, "Jaybird, you sick?"

Monday continued to retch violently.
 

Webb stood up. "I b'lieve he's sick," he
said.

"Might could be," Meek said, lowering the
cup from his lips.

"Give us a drop of that," Webb said.

"
Spilt more'n I thought," Meek said
regretfully. " 'S all gone."

Webb stared at him, beginning to enrage himself with
the thought of it. "Meek—" he started, and automatically
his hand went toward the back of his belt.

"Expect there's more where that come from,"
Meek said placatingly. They walked up the porch, and as they entered
the door there came the wail of a baby in the night.

The two of them stopped, and Webb looked back at the
limp body of Monday sprawled helplessly in the rectangle of light
from the door.

"Hell of a pack o' doin's round here, seems
like," Webb said.

The night was clear as thought, and the stars like
bright eyes shining.

2

In time the eastern sky turned coppery green and
pale, silently diminishing the depth of night. Near the horizon long
strings of clouds were outlined in shadow, their edges growing bright
with the approaching sun. The predawn silence settled over the
Willamette Valley like a mist.

The windows of Meek's house turned light, and
sleepers stirred. In the main room three shapeless, blanket-wrapped
bundles radiated like spokes from the fireplace, though the fire had
long since gone to coals. Webb lifted his head and looked around. He
untangled his arms from the blanket cocoon and straightened his limp
hat. He put his head back down on the floor and stared at the
ceiling. Next to him  Monday's shaggy yellow head shifted,
finding an imaginary soft spot on the floor.

The door to the back room opened and Virginia Meek
came out, closing the door gently behind her. She went to the
fireplace, stepping over the inert form of her husband, and began to
poke up the fire.

Webb watched her silently as she built a tiny
framework of twigs over the red glow in the center. Finally satisfied
she was doing it right, he hunched himself up to his elbows,
blinking, and extricated himself from the blanket twisted around him.
He stretched his shoulders and reached down to get the moccasins he
had stacked on the floor as a pillow. He pulled them on and started
for the door. As he passed Monday he nudged the back of the blond
head with his toe.