Author's Note: We all know Spike loves an explosive entry – here's one he didn't bargain for. Drama and Spike humour! The Spices of life.
Explosive Entry
Driving home one night, Spike noticed a huge Suburban dangerously weaving on the street as he followed it at a safe distance. What the..., he thought angrily. He hated arrogant and selfish drivers. The scourge of the road. He flashed his headlights when suddenly the driver veered on to the wrong side of the street. He was convinced that any minute now he'd be a witness to a road carnage. The driver was either very drunk and not completely in possession of his faculties or, having a massive cardiac arrest. Before he could finish thinking his grim thought, the car in front suddenly braked, its nose trespassing into the other lane.
He slowed and stopped his car on the side of the road, got out watchful for on-coming traffic, which was thankfully few and far between it now being one in the morning.
The driver's door opened, he noticed someone get out, a shortish person. He couldn't see who it was. The road was dark, and the driver was hidden from his view. His training told him he should say something like "Don't move" or "Stand where I can see you." He was about to when the driver came into his line of sight! He inwardly gasped. She was heavily pregnant and practically ready to pop, almost instantly he felt a stone-size lump in his throat.
The woman extended one of her arms towards him, eyes pleading, whilst the other hand protectively cradled her belly. He quickly looked left and right, the traffic was clear so he raced towards her and aided her to the side of the road where he had parked his own vehicle. He opened the car door and helped her slide onto the backseat. "I'm taking you to the hospital."
"No, no time," she said in laboured breathing. She had a vice-grip on his hand, "The baby... the baby is coming now." Dear God. He put his head on one of his hands and thought he'd rather be facing the barrel of a gun just about now. What did he know about delivering babies?
Of course he knew the basics. He was a beat cop. He once had the pleasure of attending to a road-side delivery with his Training Officer Sgt McCoy. But honestly he was a spectator. The Sargent did all the heavy lifting while he paced idiotically near the patrol car as if he was the expectant father.
He remembered his emergency kit in the trunk of the car. He always carried a holdall with him, full of basic emergency supplies. He unzipped it and took out a blanket. He rolled it up and placed it on on the backseat for a makeshift pillow. "I'll call EMS," he said as he pulled his phone out. He was about to speak when the woman let out a blood curdling scream; it paralyzed his voice box. The hairs on his back and arms stood on end, "Mary, Mother of God," he said.
He closed his phone on instinct to check on the woman. Her legs were spread-eagled, one leg dangling outside the car and the other propped against the front driver seat. Her two hands gripping the seat, she was clearly in agony.
Spike took a deep breath and exhaled as he leaned in to check on the little woman. He wasn't trying La Maze or anything like that, he was just in all honesty trying not to faint but the woman took his cue and started breathing through her pain. Ok, he thought, we're clearly making some progress here. Then, she arched her back and pushed. Oh, oh. He wanted to tell her, "Don't do that. No!" But he knew that would be the stupidest thing to say.
He looked down and saw something emerging from between her legs. The head? Oh, Lord. He felt a sense of panic rising.
He was consumed with a singular thought, what if I drop the baby on its head hard on the gravelly road side. Yeah! What if! His hands were sweaty. He rubbed them on his jeans then thought of the potential for transferring germs from his hands to the mother and baby. His brain kicked into gear. Gloves, I've got gloves. He hurriedly went round back to the trunk of the car and retrieved surgical gloves from his holdall. He put these on and hoped for the best. Of all the explosive entries he's ever had the pleasure of being involved in, this wasn't what he wanted to be part of. Too late, it's happening, it was up to him.
The baby's head was emerging. He forcibly pushed fear down into the pit of his stomach and tried to remember what to do. She pushed out one more time and the baby's head was fully out of the birth canal, he surprised himself when he said "Stop" with some authority. He remembered from a documentary... he must check the baby's neck for the umbilical cord. He felt around the baby's neck, clear. "Ok, push," he commanded like a midwife.
The baby seemed to suddenly pop out. He felt awkward and inadequate as he caught her floppy body. I'm gonna lose my grip, he thought. The left-side of his brain pushed the right-side aside, Think of it as a box of TNT.
Ok, that's it... it's nothing but a box of TNT. Or a lump of C4. He caught the baby with two gloved hands and held it gingerly for fear of accidentally squeezing the life out of the wee one. He thought to himself, It's ok, it's just C4. Handle with care.
He felt his muscles tense but forced himself to relax as he moved to gently place the baby on her mother's chest. It's a girl, he watched in awe and wonder as the baby instantly stopped crying. The cord was still attached, he read once it wasn't important to cut it as soon as the baby came out, it could wait. Spike leaned on the side of the car as he gathered his wits. He removed the bloody gloves and fished out his phone again to call EMS.
They must be cold, he went to rummage inside his holdall for something warm and found his old jacket and picnic blanket. He used the thick checkered picnic blanket to cover the mother and his jacket to swaddle the suckling baby. Madonna and child, it was a beautiful scene and he was privileged to not just be a witness but also a participant. He left them to savour the moment. He crossed the road to move the car that was so precariously parked in the middle of two lanes.
They didn't have long to wait, the ambulance arrived within minutes to take mother and daughter to the hospital. He watched the paramedics do their thing and realised they didn't even know each other's names, he smiled to himself. He gave the car key to one of the paramedics to drive to the hospital and gave a brief statement, "Baby came out at 1:05am." He said pleased as punch that he had the presence of mind to note down the time of birth.
When the ambulance had driven off, he fathomed something: What do you know, he said to himself, we share the same birthday.