A Time for Abigail
For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under
Heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck
up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to
build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to
dance;
A time to cast away stones and a time to gather stones together; a time to
embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to
speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
For everything there is a season, and a time and a purpose under
Heaven.
-- Ecclesiastes
"Hope she's okay, hope she's okay, oh man, what am I gonna do if she
aint okay?"
"What's takin' so long! What are they doin' in there!?"
Baloo had been stalking the halls and waiting room of the Cape Suzette
Memorial Hospital for hours. Fuming, worrying, and generally harassing the
hospital staff, he had been there since five o'clock that morning, and
almost nine hours had passed since then. It was now two o' clock.
Several times the nurses had tried to pry him away from a certain door,
but he could not be budged by either wheedling, promises, threats, or the
meager offerings from the hospital cafeteria.
His leg was throbbing from so much abuse, but he was oblivious to the
pain, pacing almost frantically with his cane, the sounds of his shuffling
and the wooden end of the support making strange thud, shuffle, thud
noises on the hard tile floor.
Kit and Molly, now fifteen and ten years old respectively, had been sent to
the apartment that
Wildcat had recently moved into after he and Clementine had become
engaged. He had decided that he really didn't want to bring her home
after their wedding to the old Higher for Hire dock. Baloo really didn't
see the problem, but Rebecca had been pretty adamant about the whole
scenario.
"I almost wish they were here. I would have somethin' else to worry
about than ol' Beckers in there. *What is taking so dang long*!"
With that last outburst, Baloo shuffled off to the nurses' station, intent on
making them tell him what was taking so long with his wife, and why he
was being denied admittance her room.
"Mr. Von Bruinwald, is there anything I can do for you? Maybe
you would like to sit down? We would be happy to bring you something
to eat," a shy young fox said as she looked up at the large gray bear, all
the while thinking that what he really needed was a sedative and a
bed. Unfortunately, she was not permitted to make a diagnosis nor could
she risk going anywhere near the medications
for fear of doing him bodily harm.
'He is driving me crazy! I know he is worried, but this is just too much!'
"Uh, yeah, just why can't I go in there? What are you people doin' to my
wife? What don't ya want me to know? What are you doin' to
her?
Baloo's fear was quickly turning to anger and annoyance. So,
because she was the only nurse left in the vicinity, the others having
seniority had either fled, or were engaged with other patients on the floor,
she was receiving the brunt of his attack. Only Missy, a small red fox
was left to deal with the frightened and annoyed Mr. Von Bruinwald.
"I'm sorry, sir, but hospital policy says that you can't go in there until it's
all over. I really can't do anything about it, I really am sorry. Are you
sure you don't want anything?" Missy asked her voice containing a note of
hope that he would just magically disappear.
"Well, why the heck not! I was there in the first place, so why can't I be there
now? It's not like I don't know or nothin'!"
"I'm sorry sir, but there is nothing I can do. Now, if you will excuse me,
I'll go and check on your wife, and you can just go and sit down
on that couch over there. I know the magazines are old, but I very much
doubt you'll be relaxed enough to read them anyway." Missy said as she
hurried by Baloo, having finally had enough of his bullying, and
desperate to do something other than continue to face the constant
stream of abuse.
Baloo was shocked by the outburst from this small, rather delicate
looking nurse, but her words got through to him, and he obediently sat
down, and tried to read the ancient magazines on the table. He was
conditioned to this response after all the years of training from his wife.
"Beckers would be *real* proud, I'm sure . . ." Baloo mumbled to himself in
annoyance.
Baloo spent the next hour alternately staring into space,
worriedly watching every nurse that passed in and out of room number
419, and desperately trying to hear any sounds that might mean
something to his anxious ears.
After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the tall black bear, Dr.
Andrews, finally came out of 419, and approached Baloo.
Andrews' ruddy Irish face held a mischievous smile, and definite gleam
glinted in his blue eyes.
Immediately upon seeing the doctor emerge Baloo jumped up as fast as
was able, almost tripping in his haste,
and eagerly hobbling over to the black bear.
Andrews hurried over to his other "patient" as he called all the anxious
husbands, and slapped him on the back with one hand, clasping Baloo's
hand in his other.
"Good news, laddie. Rebecca's fine, and the little one is adorable. Easily
one of the cuter cubs I've delivered in quite awhile." With Baloo's fears
having been laid to rest, Andrews decided to give him a hard time about
his nervousness, and all the complaints he had received from the nurses.
"Well, well, what is it? So it's cute already, what is it?"
"Hold up there laddie, I'll tell ya, hold your horses. 'it' as you call her, is a
lovely girl cub. And you'd best not let your wife hear you call her an 'it' again,
I've seen bears bigger than you beaten for less than that when they stood in your
shoes," the doctor replied with a smile, but with a grim set to his mouth,
pounding home the warning he had just issued.
"A...a girl? It's a girl? I have a girl?"
"You can always try again for a boy," Andrews responded with a laugh at the
look of incredulity on Baloo's face.
"Bite yer tongue, doc! I got me a boy anyway. Gonna be sixteen next
September," Baloo responded with not inconsiderable pride in his voice.
"Well, my good man, I heard that you annoyed the bloody hell out of my
nurses out here. I know that Missy, the little lass, was just about to
deck you one. You've got to watch the little ones, old man!" Andrew's
finished with a laugh, his rich Irish lilt taking the sting from his words.
"Oh, yeah, well, I was just sorta nervous, ya know, uh, really I am sorry.
I know I started to get a little hot under the collar there near to the end
and all. I really
am sorry," Baloo replied with a sheepish look at the doctor.
"Don't worry about it, lad. They're all used to it around here anyway.
Come along and see your daughter!"
With that invitation, Baloo rushed over to the partially closed door of
room 419, suddenly as scared and shy as a schoolboy going to the
principle's office. His knees suddenly seemed to be made of jelly, all his
motor control seemed to have been left a few feet behind him, back in the
lobby; and for the first time that day he was glad for the support of his
cane.
Slowly, almost reverently, Baloo eased the door open, and entered the room.
The first thing he noticed, something he could never later explain, was a
small clock on the nightstand next to the bed. The time had stopped
several hours before, and the small black hands were frozen at midnight.
Slowly Baloo pulled his gaze away from the frozen hands, and moved
over to the bassinet next to the bed. A sudden shiver passed through
him, the realization that this was his daughter, his and Rebecca's. This
was quickly tailed by the fact that this was the only blood relative he had
on earth; a thought which came with a forceful variety of emotions,
ranging from fear to rapture.
For several moments, he was dumbstruck, and seemed to lack the motor control
necessary to move the few feet to see his youngest daughter. Rebecca,
propped up with several pillows on the narrow hospital bed, was gazing
lovingly at her daughter, and glancing amusedly at her husband, still standing
in the doorway, looking like a kid who was headed for a parental firing squad.
'He looks like a dead fish with his mouth hanging open like that. I
wonder if I should beep one of the nurses, they might like to see this,'
Rebecca thought to herself as her eyes traveled from her cub to her
husband and back to her daughter again.
"Well, come on Baloo, she won't bite! And I promise that
despite my threats earlier today, I really won't break your other
leg, well, at least not now. Too many witnesses," Rebecca finished
with a mischevious smile.
"Oh, uh, yeah, uh, are you sure it'll be okay? You know, for me to come
in? I don't want to be in the way or nothin'," Baloo shuffled his feet nervously
and could not conceal the mixture of longing and fear in his voice.
This tiny creature was a huge
responsibility, and he had not fully comprehended that until now. Baloo
had never been around a baby before, and he was more than a little
frightened of her.
"Oh, come here, you big idiot! Come and sit right down on the side of the bed.
I'll show you how to hold her. Come on, she really is fine, babies aren't
like snakes you know, they don't bite, really!"
Rebecca was amused by her husband's timidity, but also a little
annoyed, knowing that he was going to need to get used to this new part
of his life, since she was going to be taxing him a great deal over the next
several years.
Obediently, Baloo walked over and sat down on the side of the bed.
Slowly, with great care lest he breathe too hard and cause this not-quite-
real bit of gray fluff to disappear, he looked into the face of his daughter.
His only blood relative. This tiny bit of gray with two huge brown eyes
was a window to the past for Baloo. Looking into her unfocused eyes, he
could see himself as a cub, a bit of Grady there, a bit of his mother
Dorothy here. He could also see Rebecca, and Molly. This tiny cub was
him, and Rebecca, and so many others. Baloo was amazed by this
perception, and he failed to hear Rebecca moving in the bed next to him,
and he didn't hear her call his name, so deeply was he engrossed in the
past which had so recently become a piece of the present and future.
Baloo was still staring at his daughter, his reverie unbroken until the
small brown hands of his wife came into his line of sight, and picked up
the tiny gray cub. Baloo's eyes were locked onto the tiny, blanket
swaddled cub. To his surprise and fear, Rebecca then proceeded to place
Abby into his large, rough embrace.
"Wait a minute Becky, I ain't no good at this stuff, hey, hey, oh come on
Beckers, please?" Baloo nearly begged as his daughter settled into his
grasp. Reluctantly, he took possession of the cub.
"She's so light. It's almost like holdin' a bushel of feathers. I really don't
think I should take her Becky, here, have her back, I'm gonna hurt 'er or
somethin'!" Baloo exclaimed as he thrust the cub back at Rebecca, but
he was hindered in his attempts by the fact that he was afraid to shift
his position, and could only lean over closer to Rebecca to
accentuate his pleas.
"Oh come on Baloo. You had best get used to it. They grow up fast, but
not *that* fast! Just settle down, and you'll get the hang of it. Besides, I
am not the only one who's going to be getting up for three o'clock
feedings you know," she told him, giving him a stern look. Years ago a glare
from his former boss would have the big bear shaking in his boots (if he wore boots),
but as his wife, it had the effect of an adrenaline injection strait into his spine.
Finally realizing that his protests were in vain, Baloo settled down onto the
bed, and gently cradled his daughter.
'She is so tiny. I don't know how she can ever get to be as big as Molly,
much less Kit. She ain't hardly any bigger than my hand! And she's so
*light* I never thought there was much to ol' Becky, but this little girl
beats her out of the park.'
In the midst of Baloo's thoughts, Rebecca crawled nearer to him, and
finally laid her head on his shoulder with a sigh.
"You'd best get a good look at her, Baloo, this is the last one. We can't
start all over again a third time around. Not even you, Flyboy. We've got
Kit in flight school, Molly in Junior High, and now Abby, not even
teething yet. This is going to be an adventure. Do you think you are up
to it?" But before Baloo could think of a reply, their daughter wiggled in
his hands, looked up at them, yawned, and fell asleep.
Rebecca started to shake, her entire frame rocked by helpless laughter,
and Baloo joined her, but then broke off to say in mock
seriousness "well, I guess she's bored with us already." Baloo resumed
his laughter, and Rebecca closed her eyes,
still giggling softly. Neither said anything else, and a few minutes later,
Baloo heard Rebecca snoring gently from his side.
"And she's always complainin' that *I* snore too loud," Baloo mumbled to
himself with a smile. Gently, he managed to ease Rebecca back into the
pillows and to lay his daughter back into her own small bed. His mission
accomplished, he got up, intending to let them sleep, and to call home to
tell the rest of the family the news.
Just as he reached the doorway, Baloo turned, desiring little more than
one last look at his wife and daughter, wanting with all his heart for that
moment to never end. A sudden icy fear invaded his chest like a winter
storm as he thought of all the things that had happened over the past
years, and how if so few events had been altered, he might still be a
lonely cargo pilot, alone in the world, with no one to care about him, call
him Papa Bear and Daddy, no one to worry about him when he was late,
and no-one to call him at Louie's to demand that he "come back right this
instant, a delivery was waiting!" At that last thought, Baloo grinned, the
fear abated, and he walked through the door, thinking of all
that had happened, and all that was yet to be.
For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under
Heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck
up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to
build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to
dance;
A time to cast away stones and a time to gather stones together; a time to
embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to
speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
For everything there is a season, and a time and a purpose under
Heaven.
-- Ecclesiastes
"Hope she's okay, hope she's okay, oh man, what am I gonna do if she
aint okay?"
"What's takin' so long! What are they doin' in there!?"
Baloo had been stalking the halls and waiting room of the Cape Suzette
Memorial Hospital for hours. Fuming, worrying, and generally harassing the
hospital staff, he had been there since five o'clock that morning, and
almost nine hours had passed since then. It was now two o' clock.
Several times the nurses had tried to pry him away from a certain door,
but he could not be budged by either wheedling, promises, threats, or the
meager offerings from the hospital cafeteria.
His leg was throbbing from so much abuse, but he was oblivious to the
pain, pacing almost frantically with his cane, the sounds of his shuffling
and the wooden end of the support making strange thud, shuffle, thud
noises on the hard tile floor.
Kit and Molly, now fifteen and ten years old respectively, had been sent to
the apartment that
Wildcat had recently moved into after he and Clementine had become
engaged. He had decided that he really didn't want to bring her home
after their wedding to the old Higher for Hire dock. Baloo really didn't
see the problem, but Rebecca had been pretty adamant about the whole
scenario.
"I almost wish they were here. I would have somethin' else to worry
about than ol' Beckers in there. *What is taking so dang long*!"
With that last outburst, Baloo shuffled off to the nurses' station, intent on
making them tell him what was taking so long with his wife, and why he
was being denied admittance her room.
"Mr. Von Bruinwald, is there anything I can do for you? Maybe
you would like to sit down? We would be happy to bring you something
to eat," a shy young fox said as she looked up at the large gray bear, all
the while thinking that what he really needed was a sedative and a
bed. Unfortunately, she was not permitted to make a diagnosis nor could
she risk going anywhere near the medications
for fear of doing him bodily harm.
'He is driving me crazy! I know he is worried, but this is just too much!'
"Uh, yeah, just why can't I go in there? What are you people doin' to my
wife? What don't ya want me to know? What are you doin' to
her?
Baloo's fear was quickly turning to anger and annoyance. So,
because she was the only nurse left in the vicinity, the others having
seniority had either fled, or were engaged with other patients on the floor,
she was receiving the brunt of his attack. Only Missy, a small red fox
was left to deal with the frightened and annoyed Mr. Von Bruinwald.
"I'm sorry, sir, but hospital policy says that you can't go in there until it's
all over. I really can't do anything about it, I really am sorry. Are you
sure you don't want anything?" Missy asked her voice containing a note of
hope that he would just magically disappear.
"Well, why the heck not! I was there in the first place, so why can't I be there
now? It's not like I don't know or nothin'!"
"I'm sorry sir, but there is nothing I can do. Now, if you will excuse me,
I'll go and check on your wife, and you can just go and sit down
on that couch over there. I know the magazines are old, but I very much
doubt you'll be relaxed enough to read them anyway." Missy said as she
hurried by Baloo, having finally had enough of his bullying, and
desperate to do something other than continue to face the constant
stream of abuse.
Baloo was shocked by the outburst from this small, rather delicate
looking nurse, but her words got through to him, and he obediently sat
down, and tried to read the ancient magazines on the table. He was
conditioned to this response after all the years of training from his wife.
"Beckers would be *real* proud, I'm sure . . ." Baloo mumbled to himself in
annoyance.
Baloo spent the next hour alternately staring into space,
worriedly watching every nurse that passed in and out of room number
419, and desperately trying to hear any sounds that might mean
something to his anxious ears.
After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the tall black bear, Dr.
Andrews, finally came out of 419, and approached Baloo.
Andrews' ruddy Irish face held a mischievous smile, and definite gleam
glinted in his blue eyes.
Immediately upon seeing the doctor emerge Baloo jumped up as fast as
was able, almost tripping in his haste,
and eagerly hobbling over to the black bear.
Andrews hurried over to his other "patient" as he called all the anxious
husbands, and slapped him on the back with one hand, clasping Baloo's
hand in his other.
"Good news, laddie. Rebecca's fine, and the little one is adorable. Easily
one of the cuter cubs I've delivered in quite awhile." With Baloo's fears
having been laid to rest, Andrews decided to give him a hard time about
his nervousness, and all the complaints he had received from the nurses.
"Well, well, what is it? So it's cute already, what is it?"
"Hold up there laddie, I'll tell ya, hold your horses. 'it' as you call her, is a
lovely girl cub. And you'd best not let your wife hear you call her an 'it' again,
I've seen bears bigger than you beaten for less than that when they stood in your
shoes," the doctor replied with a smile, but with a grim set to his mouth,
pounding home the warning he had just issued.
"A...a girl? It's a girl? I have a girl?"
"You can always try again for a boy," Andrews responded with a laugh at the
look of incredulity on Baloo's face.
"Bite yer tongue, doc! I got me a boy anyway. Gonna be sixteen next
September," Baloo responded with not inconsiderable pride in his voice.
"Well, my good man, I heard that you annoyed the bloody hell out of my
nurses out here. I know that Missy, the little lass, was just about to
deck you one. You've got to watch the little ones, old man!" Andrew's
finished with a laugh, his rich Irish lilt taking the sting from his words.
"Oh, yeah, well, I was just sorta nervous, ya know, uh, really I am sorry.
I know I started to get a little hot under the collar there near to the end
and all. I really
am sorry," Baloo replied with a sheepish look at the doctor.
"Don't worry about it, lad. They're all used to it around here anyway.
Come along and see your daughter!"
With that invitation, Baloo rushed over to the partially closed door of
room 419, suddenly as scared and shy as a schoolboy going to the
principle's office. His knees suddenly seemed to be made of jelly, all his
motor control seemed to have been left a few feet behind him, back in the
lobby; and for the first time that day he was glad for the support of his
cane.
Slowly, almost reverently, Baloo eased the door open, and entered the room.
The first thing he noticed, something he could never later explain, was a
small clock on the nightstand next to the bed. The time had stopped
several hours before, and the small black hands were frozen at midnight.
Slowly Baloo pulled his gaze away from the frozen hands, and moved
over to the bassinet next to the bed. A sudden shiver passed through
him, the realization that this was his daughter, his and Rebecca's. This
was quickly tailed by the fact that this was the only blood relative he had
on earth; a thought which came with a forceful variety of emotions,
ranging from fear to rapture.
For several moments, he was dumbstruck, and seemed to lack the motor control
necessary to move the few feet to see his youngest daughter. Rebecca,
propped up with several pillows on the narrow hospital bed, was gazing
lovingly at her daughter, and glancing amusedly at her husband, still standing
in the doorway, looking like a kid who was headed for a parental firing squad.
'He looks like a dead fish with his mouth hanging open like that. I
wonder if I should beep one of the nurses, they might like to see this,'
Rebecca thought to herself as her eyes traveled from her cub to her
husband and back to her daughter again.
"Well, come on Baloo, she won't bite! And I promise that
despite my threats earlier today, I really won't break your other
leg, well, at least not now. Too many witnesses," Rebecca finished
with a mischevious smile.
"Oh, uh, yeah, uh, are you sure it'll be okay? You know, for me to come
in? I don't want to be in the way or nothin'," Baloo shuffled his feet nervously
and could not conceal the mixture of longing and fear in his voice.
This tiny creature was a huge
responsibility, and he had not fully comprehended that until now. Baloo
had never been around a baby before, and he was more than a little
frightened of her.
"Oh, come here, you big idiot! Come and sit right down on the side of the bed.
I'll show you how to hold her. Come on, she really is fine, babies aren't
like snakes you know, they don't bite, really!"
Rebecca was amused by her husband's timidity, but also a little
annoyed, knowing that he was going to need to get used to this new part
of his life, since she was going to be taxing him a great deal over the next
several years.
Obediently, Baloo walked over and sat down on the side of the bed.
Slowly, with great care lest he breathe too hard and cause this not-quite-
real bit of gray fluff to disappear, he looked into the face of his daughter.
His only blood relative. This tiny bit of gray with two huge brown eyes
was a window to the past for Baloo. Looking into her unfocused eyes, he
could see himself as a cub, a bit of Grady there, a bit of his mother
Dorothy here. He could also see Rebecca, and Molly. This tiny cub was
him, and Rebecca, and so many others. Baloo was amazed by this
perception, and he failed to hear Rebecca moving in the bed next to him,
and he didn't hear her call his name, so deeply was he engrossed in the
past which had so recently become a piece of the present and future.
Baloo was still staring at his daughter, his reverie unbroken until the
small brown hands of his wife came into his line of sight, and picked up
the tiny gray cub. Baloo's eyes were locked onto the tiny, blanket
swaddled cub. To his surprise and fear, Rebecca then proceeded to place
Abby into his large, rough embrace.
"Wait a minute Becky, I ain't no good at this stuff, hey, hey, oh come on
Beckers, please?" Baloo nearly begged as his daughter settled into his
grasp. Reluctantly, he took possession of the cub.
"She's so light. It's almost like holdin' a bushel of feathers. I really don't
think I should take her Becky, here, have her back, I'm gonna hurt 'er or
somethin'!" Baloo exclaimed as he thrust the cub back at Rebecca, but
he was hindered in his attempts by the fact that he was afraid to shift
his position, and could only lean over closer to Rebecca to
accentuate his pleas.
"Oh come on Baloo. You had best get used to it. They grow up fast, but
not *that* fast! Just settle down, and you'll get the hang of it. Besides, I
am not the only one who's going to be getting up for three o'clock
feedings you know," she told him, giving him a stern look. Years ago a glare
from his former boss would have the big bear shaking in his boots (if he wore boots),
but as his wife, it had the effect of an adrenaline injection strait into his spine.
Finally realizing that his protests were in vain, Baloo settled down onto the
bed, and gently cradled his daughter.
'She is so tiny. I don't know how she can ever get to be as big as Molly,
much less Kit. She ain't hardly any bigger than my hand! And she's so
*light* I never thought there was much to ol' Becky, but this little girl
beats her out of the park.'
In the midst of Baloo's thoughts, Rebecca crawled nearer to him, and
finally laid her head on his shoulder with a sigh.
"You'd best get a good look at her, Baloo, this is the last one. We can't
start all over again a third time around. Not even you, Flyboy. We've got
Kit in flight school, Molly in Junior High, and now Abby, not even
teething yet. This is going to be an adventure. Do you think you are up
to it?" But before Baloo could think of a reply, their daughter wiggled in
his hands, looked up at them, yawned, and fell asleep.
Rebecca started to shake, her entire frame rocked by helpless laughter,
and Baloo joined her, but then broke off to say in mock
seriousness "well, I guess she's bored with us already." Baloo resumed
his laughter, and Rebecca closed her eyes,
still giggling softly. Neither said anything else, and a few minutes later,
Baloo heard Rebecca snoring gently from his side.
"And she's always complainin' that *I* snore too loud," Baloo mumbled to
himself with a smile. Gently, he managed to ease Rebecca back into the
pillows and to lay his daughter back into her own small bed. His mission
accomplished, he got up, intending to let them sleep, and to call home to
tell the rest of the family the news.
Just as he reached the doorway, Baloo turned, desiring little more than
one last look at his wife and daughter, wanting with all his heart for that
moment to never end. A sudden icy fear invaded his chest like a winter
storm as he thought of all the things that had happened over the past
years, and how if so few events had been altered, he might still be a
lonely cargo pilot, alone in the world, with no one to care about him, call
him Papa Bear and Daddy, no one to worry about him when he was late,
and no-one to call him at Louie's to demand that he "come back right this
instant, a delivery was waiting!" At that last thought, Baloo grinned, the
fear abated, and he walked through the door, thinking of all
that had happened, and all that was yet to be.
