"I was supposed to live a different life."
"Me too."
- Jeremiah Compson & Arthur, respectively
.
.
Arthur began to both dread and yearn for his dreams—uneasy over what he might see, but still filled with inescapable longing just to be near the two of them. But he didn't dream every night. Sometimes he'd go weeks without it.
One night when he went to his cot, he dreamt he was standing in a town he seemed to recognize.
He turned and saw a young man and woman holding hands, their fingers interlaced, walking down a dusty country lane at the outskirts of town. Her belly was huge, her hair like the sun.
When he realized who it was, he quickly started following, though he kept himself hidden and to the side.
But who was it strolling with her? He walked ahead until he got far enough to see the feller's face, and his eyes grew wide: it was a younger version of himself.
He froze and watched them walk past him. Panicking and not wanting to lose them, he hurried to catch up. He got close enough to see their faces and hear them, but he meant to hide himself behind the foliage alongside the road. When he reached out for a tree, he realized his hand went straight through it. He wasn't really here. None of this was real. It was only what could've been. What should've been—if he'd opened his heart to her.
"Eliza…I been meanin' to ask you somethin'."
Arthur looked up at the sound of his own voice.
"Hm?" she mumbled.
He couldn't take his eyes off either of them. He was so young; what was he—twenty-four? And she was even younger. Nineteen. Maybe just barely twenty, now that almost nine months had passed. Again, he was amazed at her strength and courage at so young an age.
He gazed after them as they strolled, so relaxed and easy. How well they fit together. Why couldn't he see it?
His younger self stopped her, causing her to look up at him with those green eyes he never could seem to forget.
He came close and kissed her, and Arthur watched him fumble with something and her hand. When he saw what it was, Arthur's brows lifted. Maybe this kid could see how well they fit together after all. He was slipping a wedding band on her left ring finger.
Arthur chuffed at himself and shook his head. Leave it to him to describe himself as asking something, and never actually ask anything. Real romantic, a real dandy and a charmer.
Arthur stepped closer to get a look at the ring. Once the ring was on her finger and he could see it clearly, his eyes shot wide.
"Where the hell did you get cash for a rock, kid?" he said. His own expression quickly fell flat, and he waved a hand. "You know—don't answer that."
She looked down to see what he'd done. When she looked up, he saw tears in her eyes and one of the brightest, widest smiles he'd ever seen. 'Ecstatically happy' were the words he'd use.
"Oh, that's nice," Arthur provided commentary on the scene, though no one could hear him. He shot his younger self a look of derision. "Real nice. How you gonna make that work? You gonna stay with her? Yeah, right. You don't have it in you, you sick, twisted bastard. You ain't bein' fair to her." He looked at her, her eyes gleaming, her smile bright. "…There…really…ain't a way to be fair to her, is there?"
She looked like she was about to lean in and kiss him, but she suddenly hitched up, as if just remembering something. "Oh, Arthur," she began to fidget.
"What is it?"
She brought her fingers up and rubbed her temple. "Well, don't… Don't laugh at me, all right?"
"What's goin' on?" he chuckled. "What're you talkin' about?"
She dipped her fingers into a little hidden pocket at her side behind the ribbon that served as a faux waistband above her big belly and pulled something out. "I've kept it with me since my pa died."
When she took his left hand and slipped it on him, he looked down to find what he thought he'd never see: a gold wedding band on his own ring finger.
A smile slowly crept across his mouth as he touched it, an airy little chuckle escaping his throat.
"I know it looks simple," she added feverishly. "But it's got a Celtic knot engraved on this side. Remember I told you, my folks believed in Celtic souls?"
"'Course I remember," he said quietly.
"D—" she swallowed. "Do you…like it?"
His grin widened, and he finally nodded. "It's perfect."
She looked down at his mouth and kissed him softly, intertwining her fingers through his. As she drew away, she looked up into his eyes. "Mrs. Arthur Morgan. I like that. Nothing ever sounded so wonderful."
He looked up and stroked her hair away from her forehead, tucking it back behind her ear. "Eliza Morgan. I like that even better."
She bit her lip and gave a little bounce. "Can we do it tomorrow?"
"Sure," he chuckled. "If you haven't burst by then."
"Arthur," she tisked as they continued walking. "They'll say you took a child bride," she added softly.
"Who's they?" he guffawed. "I couldn't care less. Do you?"
"Well, I…" she swallowed. "I don't want to be thought of as silly, or flighty, or…a burden."
"Hey," he stopped, causing her to look back at him. "I know you. You ain't any a' those things."
She slowly smiled. "Well then, no. I don't care."
He brought his arm around her and kissed her cheek, and they continued walking. "One a' these days I'll get up enough cash to get us a nice place," he said. "Preferably far away from here."
Arthur's brows rose yet again as he followed them. He was planning to stay with her. Maybe this kid was smarter than him after all.
"You don't like Misty Willow?" she said.
"I hate this stupid town! The way they look at us… Darlin', I didn't ever wanna to tell you this, but…the kinda things they say about you…" He shook his head, his jaw tense. "I swear to god, I almost knocked this one feller's head off his shoulders the other day at the general store." He squinted sourly. "Just because we put the cart before the horse ain't no reason to talk about you like that."
"You can't hide me from it, Arthur. I've heard it all."
He looked at her beside him. "So why you wanna stay here?"
"Well, I… If you wanted to move us, I wouldn't mind. I'll follow you anywhere," she smiled. "But this is my hometown; it's all I know. My mama and papa are buried here… And there are still some good people here."
He shot her a knowing look. "Addie don't count."
A laugh burst through her nose. "Arthur!" She nudged him in the arm. "Of course she does. I don't know what I'd do without her. I wouldn't have a place to stay right now. We owe her a lot."
"Ol' Addie," he chuckled. He looked up and halted abruptly, his expression scrunching. "Oh!" he tisked his tongue. "You brought us here?"
"It's Sunday, Arthur! When're you gonna go inside?"
Arthur turned to see what they were looking at: an old little church building. He smirked and shook his head. "Good luck with that, Eliza."
His younger self grumbled and trudged the opposite way. "I ain't steppin' foot in there."
"Why not?"
"Plenty a' reasons." He grimaced. "We just got through talkin' about the awful people in this town! You can't tell me they're any different inside there!" he pointed.
"They are different than the folk you've seen—most of them, anyway." She lifted her hands and let them drop. "You find good and bad people everywhere, Arthur. Including inside there. It ain't about them."
Her eyes followed him as he squirmed. "The Good Book teaches kindness, compassion, grace—I mean, it's got a reputation of bein' amazing, Arthur!" she said with a laugh. "You might find you like it," she said gently.
"I ain't ready," he said firmly, shaking his head. "Ain't nearly ready."
She sighed and gave a half-smile. "Well…let's sit over here and listen to the singing then, at least." She ventured toward a big oak tree nearby and sat atop its low hanging branch. "Come on. Come sit with me."
Arthur watched as his younger self looked over at her and followed his gaze. With her wispy golden hair and the light freckles on her nose, she was nothing short of darling as she hobbled and scooted back onto the branch, obviously trying to get into a position that was both comfortable and wouldn't let her huge belly topple her forward.
Arthur smiled at the precious sight he wished he'd seen in reality. He looked back at his younger self, who was smiling along with him.
"You know you can't resist her, bud. You never could." He watched his younger self relax, his smile brightening.
"How 'bout I come behind you and hold you?" he said, quickly doing just that.
She closed her eyes and grinned, leaning back into him as he brought his chin to rest over the crook in her shoulder. "Mmm… Even better."
Knowing they couldn't see him, Arthur came around and stood nearby, a little off to the side, so he could easily see their faces and hear everything.
She sighed. "How are we going to get married if you can't step foot in a church, Arthur? You know you have to get married in front of God, right?"
He groaned. "Maybe we could do it outside, in the sunshine. People do that, don't they? It is God's green earth, after all."
"I suppose so." She nodded her head to the side as the sounds of singing rose from the church. "This is a real old one they're singin' today. Ain't it beautiful? I always loved the fiddle they use."
"Your voice is much prettier. You sing it for me, darlin'."
Arthur prepared himself for Eliza's angelic tone as she smiled and took a breath.
"Come thou fount of every blessing," she sang in time with the music. "Tune my heart to sing thy grace." She looked down at his hands where they rested atop her belly. When he turned them over and opened them up to her soft touch, she began tracing her fingers over and through his palms. "Streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise."
He kissed the crook of her neck once, twice. And before long he wasn't just kissing; he was putting a mark on her skin.
She closed her eyes, her singing trailing off. "Arthur…we can't. Outside a church? It ain't the place."
"Why not? You're God's good creation."
From where he stood watching them, Arthur rolled his eyes at his own comment.
"How long you think they'll be in there?" his younger self said.
"Arthur, no," she laughed.
He brought his hand up to her chest.
"Oh, please don't," she said catching his hand. "I'm due any day, and I'm real sore to the touch there. It hurts."
"Mm, I'm sorry," he mumbled against her neck. "Guess I'm just lonesome for ya, is all."
She turned her face towards him, and he kissed her mouth.
"I know. I miss you too," she said between kisses. When he finally drew back, she took a breath. "Believe me," she eyed him. "There was a time I could hardly think of anything else. Addie said a lot of ladies get it—can you believe that? She said it's one of the stages of pregnancy."
He looked at her with a wry expression, his tone going mischievously high. "Where was I for this precious little 'stage?'"
Her grin went sheepish and wobbly. "I tried real hard not to let on whenever you came round. I was tryin' to be a good girl. But I was terribly weak just at the sight of you. You ever…gone without food for a time, then get your eyes on a ripe fruit—or a nice, juicy hunk of steak?"
With a dazed look, he lifted his eyebrows. "My god."
She ducked her head and lifted her shoulders, snickering.
"I never been described as a piece a' meat before," he said with a breathy chuckle. He swallowed and blinked, then looked at her. "Why on earth would you keep that from me? You just don't keep that to yourself! Sounds like we coulda made the angels sing!"
Her belly bobbled as her laughter petered off, and she sighed. "Now most of the time I'm just plumb uncomfortable. You know how much my back hurts."
"Yeah, I know," he moaned.
"It's too bad… You know, the very last time we made love, before I realized I was pregnant, we were interrupted," she eyed him with a smirk.
He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me."
From where he stood listening, Arthur's brows scrunched together. "What…? What're they talkin' about?"
A little cloud materialized before him, playing images of a quiet scene deep in the lush forest: clothes strewn on the ground and the sounds of lips smacking and sighing as the two of them were revealed to be lying together completely bare in the thick, soft grass of the forest floor beneath a tree.
.
"You're tickling me, Arthur!" she giggled. When he whispered something in her ear, she smiled bright. "Hm?"
"I said I know, but I like seein' your pretty smile," he said quietly. When a mumbled chuckle came through her closed lips, he kissed under her ear. "I know just exactly what I'm doin' when I get you there, girl. I know all the ins and outs a' you."
"Shhh," she fought a laugh as she gently rested a hand across his face. "Don't be lewd."
"Lewd?! Right here and now, we're about as lewd as we can get!"
The lilt of her laughter in retort caught on the breeze.
He went on kissing her, and she sighed and wrapped her arms around him. Just as she was about to close her eyes, a figure appeared behind the tree, and Eliza was the first to see it.
"Arthur," she gasped and patted him, quickly turning her face. Blushing, she scrambled to scrunch herself up under his body.
He looked up and turned his head to see what had caused her such shock.
"John!" he thundered, quickly moving his arm to shield her naked body from view.
"I'm sorry—" John gasped. "I didn't—"
"Jesus, kid! What the hell're you doin' here? You followin' me?!"
"No! Weren't like that. I was nearby and saw your horse and no you!" he said quickly. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"
"Goddamn it!" he bit through clenched teeth. "Get the hell outta here already! Get!" he shouted with a swat at the air behind him, and John quickly scurried away. "Ssshhhhit…" he mumbled as he turned back to her.
Eliza let out a breath that blew her stray hair, while the tops of her cheeks were already flushed red. "This is the last time we do it like this," she said low, and a little snicker coming through her nose as she put her hand to her forehead. "I can't believe that just happened."
"He's just a stupid, snot-nosed thirteen-year-old kid. He's like a kid brother to me."
She smiled. "You gonna introduce me to him right and proper, when I'm not on my back?"
He rolled his eyes. "You're lucky you don't know him. He's annoying as hell. As you can see."
He smiled at the sound of her laugh and returned to kissing her jaw. "Where were we?"
.
As he stood before the little cloud, Arthur groaned and let his face fall into his hand. "That should never have any place in my dreams. Take it away," he said with a wave of his hand, and the cloud dissipated.
He returned his eyes to the image of the two of them—Eliza where she sat in the tree, and himself standing behind her.
"Well," his younger self said to her, "I'm sure we woulda been able to figure our way around this belly a' yours. But now I think about it, don't you think it woulda hurt the baby? Or…you?"
"Oh, I seriously doubt that," she waved a hand with a smile. "Addie tells me that though my inner workings are real intricate, I'm built tough."
"Well…I'm sorry we weren't livin' as husband and wife yet."
"Guess kisses will have to do for now," she smiled, meeting his lips.
She suddenly broke away and gasped. "Arthur." She grabbed his hand and ran it down over her belly. She smiled when his eyes went wide.
"Is that…?"
She nodded profusely with a wide grin.
"Christ," he said slowly and loudly.
She glanced up at the church building. "Arthur! Hush!"
"We made that?" He looked at her, and she nodded again. "We made that," he said, a hazy smile growing on his mouth.
"He's movin' a lot today, actually."
"He?"
"Mother's intuition," she shrugged.
Still behind the tree branch and with his hand still in place, he began to gather and pull her skirts up over her big belly as he knelt and brought his face close.
"Arthur!"
"What, you got knickers on, don't ya?"
"Yes, but…" She watched as he closely studied her bare skin and smiled when a subtle bump glided across her belly again.
"Little one," he said low and soft. "It's your daddy." When a bump suddenly jumped under her skin, his eyes popped up to her with a bright smile.
She chirped a giggle. "He hears you. He's reachin' out for you."
"All right then. Seems I've got your attention," he said to her belly. "Let me just tell you a few things about your mama."
"Careful," she eyed him with an arch to her brow.
He smirked. "She's sweeter than honey and beautiful to boot. But don't let her fool you—she's got a feisty streak, a little mischievous spark." He laughed as another bump appeared. "Oof. Got too close," he said to her, rubbing the side of his chin. "Kid's got a mean right hook."
She laughed.
"Aw, you don't have to defend her, kid. She's got a lot goin' for her. I'm sure I don't have to tell you she's got the best singin' voice you'll ever hear." He looked up at her with a soft grin. "She's gonna make a terrific mama."
She smiled, a thin rim of tears lining the bottom of her eyes.
"As for your pa, well…" he sighed. "I best just prepare you: you might not like this ugly mug you got to look at. Poor little thing."
"Arthur," she clucked her tongue. "You'll make a wonderful father. I know it."
He chuffed and shook his head, smiling. "Long as I got you to show me how." He looked back to her belly when he felt the baby move beneath his hand again. "What's it feel like?"
A gleam flitted across her face. "No one's ever asked me that before," she chuckled. "I guess it… You know that feelin' when you get real nervous—oh, you probably don't. Probably don't ever get nervous."
"Keep goin'," he said in a high tone. "I'm followin' ya."
"When you get real nervous, and you feel somethin' like a thousand butterflies flapping their wings inside your chest?"
He grinned and nodded.
"It's kinda like that, but one huge butterfly, and down in your belly instead."
He smiled bright as he straightened to stand beside her, letting her skirts fall back over her belly.
She brought her hand to his cheek and kissed him again. "You still gonna be with me when my body changes again? When I'm all stretched—spread out and wrinkly?"
He grinned. "I can't wait."
"What!" her eyebrows shot up. "You can't possibly mean that."
"Y'know… I thought we had something like this conversation a long time ago," he mumbled. "When your belly was just startin' to grow. You remember?"
"All right…" Arthur sighed with a smirk from where he stood watching. "Show me the cloud again."
The little cloud appeared before him again, and he saw his younger self standing at a closed front door with his hat on his head and a bundle of wildflowers in his fist.
.
He gently knocked on the door, and it fell slightly open. He leaned to the side to peek through the opening as he slowly pushed it further open. He walked inside and looked around, but the place seemed empty.
"Eliza? You hom—" His voice caught when he heard singing and humming from the back room.
He stepped through the house and noticed the door was just a sliver ajar. He leaned in to see Eliza exiting the bathtub.
Arthur could almost hear the wild beating of the heart inside his younger self as he began to turn away.
But when he heard her warm, silky voice: "…whose name is love, who ever lives and pleads for me…" he took a breath and slowly looked back.
She'd wrapped herself in a towel and was walking towards her dresser as she continued singing, when she passed the mirror and was snagged at the sight of her reflection. She turned and opened the towel to look at herself. She let her head sag to the side and released a little sigh as she dropped the towel from around her.
When she turned to the side, he could see the teardrop shape of her small but growing belly as she smoothed a hand over it before turning to face the mirror again.
She tisked her tongue and gave a tiny groan, "Oh, look at you. He'll never wanna touch you again."
He smirked and silently stepped inside the room, thankful that the mirror was propped in a way that he was just outside of the reflection. He set the flowers on the bed and removed his hat, resting it atop the flowers.
"All he'll feel is disgusted," she mumbled to herself.
He silently came up behind her and gently slipped a hand to her side under her arm. "Disgusted, huh?"
She gasped and jumped. "Arthur!"
He brought both hands around her and pressed his lips to her bare shoulder.
"Disgusted…" he wrinkled his nose at the sound of the syllables. "Strong word."
She let out a breath through her nose and smiled as his kisses ventured higher up her neck. "I don't mean to be vain. It's just…it seems so much about me is changin'. I can't stop it or even slow it down. I guess it…makes me nervous. 'Cause I'm sure…there are things you liked about me that just aren't gonna be quite the same."
"Like what?" He rested his head beside hers and looked into the mirror with her. "From where I'm standin', everything looks mighty good to me." He turned and gently bit her soft earlobe. "Good enough to eat."
She mumbled a shy chuckle, which rattled her against him. As he wrapped his big arms around her, she rested hers over his.
"'Sides. You're my same Eliza. No matter what. Nothin'll change that."
She grinned wide. "How did you get in here?"
"Front door was unlocked. Bedroom door was open."
"What?"
"Which we gotta talk about, 'cause I don't like how easy it was to waltz in here and see you naked." He caught himself. "Well, I guess I do. But I don't like the thought of just anyone waltzin' in here."
A laugh rumbled through her nose. "You don't waltz anywhere, Arthur." She looked up at him in the mirror as he kissed behind her jaw. "What're you doin' here?"
"Brought you flowers."
"Oh?" she smiled.
"They're on the bed," he mumbled. "Maybe we oughtta be too."
She closed her eyes and let her head tilt to the side. "Don't do this to me," she moaned. "Addie's gonna be home any minute."
He groaned and let his head sag back before going to pick up his hat and the flowers. "I'm gettin' tired a' that old bird. Startin' to come between me an' my woman."
"No," she chuckled. "No one ever will. But you don't live here, Arthur. What do you expect?" She wrapped the towel around herself again and began shooing him out of the room. "Go put 'em in water, and I'll come out to admire 'em in a minute. Go on."
When she'd brought the door almost closed, she snuck her face into the opening and smiled. "Arthur." She waited for him to look back at her. "Thank you. They're lovely."
He smiled as she continued to close the door. "Got nothin' on you, honey."
.
The cloud dissipated again, and Arthur looked back at them.
"I know," she tried to smile. "But I never…been pregnant before, and… I just got so big. I didn't realize… And I just think…what I said, with bein' spread out and whatnot." She timidly looked up at him. "It'll probably happen sooner rather than later."
"Well, I better just get used to it then."
"What do you mean?"
"Well…" he said rubbing his neck, "if it goes well with the first kid, I don't see why we shouldn't have bunches more."
Her face smoothed as she looked into his eyes, a little breathy chuckle escaping her. "Arthur…are you serious?"
"Sure, why not," he shrugged. "Just cause I'm terrified outta my wits don't mean you weren't made for this. I'll just have to learn right along with ya."
She smiled. "So you won't get tired of me."
"Tired of you? Never. Ain't possible," he said with a shake of his head and a smile. "You're my girl, Eliza. Inside and out."
She took a breath as she brought her hand to his cheek, and he rested his forehead against hers.
He returned his chin to the crook of her neck, this time bringing both his hands under her belly and cradling both his woman and his baby.
"If it is a boy," she said warmly, "I'd really like to name him Isaac, after my pa. If that's all right with you."
He nodded. "I'm just sorry he ain't here to see it," he whispered.
Arthur stood limp, staring at the scene, his stomach flipping and revolting. But it wasn't because he didn't like what he saw. It was because he couldn't have it. Somewhere inside him he wanted this, badly enough that he was dreaming it up. But it was all long gone and out of reach now. All of it.
And he couldn't give it to her either. He watched her run her hands down over his as he held her and noticed the new ring on her finger, the gold glinting against her skin, the diamond sparkling in the sunlight. He took in her young face: her eyes closed, her grin soft and bright as the two of them swayed gently. His mind drifted to what reality had been in comparison, and a stone rose in his throat.
He shook his head. "I'm so, so sorry, Eliza." As if that meant anything now.
"Let's get goin'," his younger self said after a few minutes, "before they start comin' out." He came around the branch and took her hand in his to help her up.
As she scooted off and stood, she quickly looked down, causing him to follow her gaze to see a big splatter of liquid between her boots.
"Oh," she said softly.
"What, did you piss?" he chuckled.
"No, it's… Addie said it would…" She looked up at him with excitement. "It's happening, Arthur."
His eyes shot to the size of oranges.
"I guess he decided it's time to come out and see you!" she said with a smile.
"All…all right…" he said shakily, moving like he didn't know where to be or what to do. He looked around. "Shit. How do I get you to her from here? Without Bo or Samson? We didn't think this through very well, hun."
"Just walk me back into town and ask someone who's got a wagon if we can borrow it."
He took her hand and did as he was bade, with Arthur following them.
When they got to the edge of town he kept his eyes open for a wagon. He finally saw one parked on the side of the road, where the old grocer was unloading dry goods, fruits, and veggies. "Hey! Hey, mister!" he said. "Hate to do this to ya, but think we might borrow your wagon? She's havin' a baby."
"Eliza?" the grocer said as he straightened.
She nodded. "Yes, sir, it's me, Mr. Andrews."
"Andrews," Arthur shook his head. "Figures. Can't even get him outta my dreams?"
"Well, hop in. Where you need to go? I'll take you there."
"I ain't doin' much hoppin' these days," she chuckled in spite of herself.
"Appreciate ya. The old midwife, Addie Walters's place," Arthur said hefting her gently into the wagon. "You know it?"
"Sure," he said sitting in the seat and taking the reins. "She helped my daughter-in-law with her labor just the other day."
As he watched Eliza and his younger self get into the wagon, Arthur stepped up himself behind the two of them before the grocer tore off.
His younger self came close to her and held her hand, whispering to her as her breathing began to pick up. He suddenly drew back and looked at her, his mouth going wobbly.
"What?" she asked.
"You look kinda funny."
She huffed a single laugh. As the wagon hit a bump in the road, she groaned.
"Any chance you could avoid those bumps, or take 'em a little nicer?" he lifted his voice to the grocer.
"Fast, or no bumps. Pick one," the grocer called back.
Both Arthur and his younger self rolled their eyes.
His younger self shifted to sit beside her. As they jostled in the wagon with the apples, carrots, bags of flour and potatoes, her blonde hair began to unravel from its pins. He took it between his fingers and brushed the back of his forefinger over her cheek. "I'll be right there with you, the whole time," he said.
She held her belly with one hand and took hold of his with the other.
When they finally arrived at Addie's, he helped her down and walked her to the front door.
"Thanks for your help, mister," he called back as the grocer wished them well and rode away. He knocked on the door. "Addie, open up! It's Eliza!" When she opened the door, he came right in with her.
Arthur followed, passing through the door like it wasn't there as Addie closed it behind them.
"The babe's comin'," his younger self said.
"I can see that. Bring her back to the bedroom," Addie said.
He helped her to the back as Arthur followed all of them, watching closely. Eliza was beginning to sweat and breath hastily.
"Help her out of her gown," Addie said as she went to her shelf for a few things.
He set his black hat on a chair and went to Eliza's back, immediately fumbling with her stays. "Huh…" he chuckled nervously, "you know I never was any good at this, darlin'."
"Arthur!" Eliza whined, throwing her head back. "Now is not the time!" After a few more moments with no success, she finally huffed, "He can't do it! Addie!"
"No, no, it's fine, I've got it just fine," he mumbled, finally stripping her frock off to reveal her linen chemise.
As soon as he did, he quickly looked back at her. He blinked, stolen away for a moment by the beauty of her in her natural state: the smooth skin of her bare shoulder where the chemise was slipping off, her breasts loose under the linen fabric as she struggled to catch her breath.
"Focus, bud," Arthur snapped in front of his face.
"Focus, heathen!" Addie barked at him.
At that, he jumped. "S-sorry," he said with a swallow. "Hey, it's been a while for us, all right?"
He helped her step out of the gown as Addie continued gathering medicines and herbs from about the room.
"Eliza, is that a ring on your finger?" Addie said with a sour face.
"Yes, it's a ring!" she said as he came behind her, running his fingers under the hair at her neck and tying it back for her. "I'm his, and he's mine, and that's all there is to it, okay?"
"Eliza…" she wagged her head in disapproval. "I never did like him."
Arthur's eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped. "She finally came out with it, hun!" he laughed. "Well, here's news for you, Addie: I knew it all along! Ha! Who could miss it?"
"You knocked her up, you block-headed degenerate! Got her tossed out on her bum! Out of a good place!"
"Well I'm here, ain't I?!" he said coming towards her from behind Eliza with a scowl on his face. "Don't that count for anything with you?"
"Oh no…" Eliza whispered.
"You're nothin' but a low-down, dirty scoundrel," Addie said. "A scallywag! A ruffian!"
"No. No, please…" Eliza whined.
"Oh, you've had it out for me from the start, you old goat—"
"Stop it! Stop it, please!" Eliza yelled, and they both froze, looking back at her. "You—" she looked at Addie, "quit houndin' him. And you—" she eyed him, "She's helpin' us!"
She looked back and forth between the two. "I need both of you right now," she said, taking another hasty breath. "I'm…" She swallowed, and their eyes were glued to her. "I'm real scared." She reached out and took a fistful of his shirt, her eyes filling. "Arthur…"
He quickly went to her and held her as Addie rushed to prop the pillows up on the cot for her.
"Eliza…" he whispered to her. "It'll be all right. It will."
"How do you know?" she sniffed, looking up into his eyes.
"I just know these things, honey," he said leading her to the bed. "I just know."
"Addie, the baby, he's tuggin' on me," she whined and huffed as she sat on the cot and scooted herself back. "Is that right? It's scarin' the livin' daylights outta me."
"Yes, it'll feel like that, dear. But you'll be just fine; trust me." She turned and carelessly waved a finger in Arthur's direction. "Get her knickers off," she directed him. "I've gotta grab one more thing."
He immediately slumped his shoulders. "Call me a heathen?" he whined, but did as he was bade, going to Eliza's knees. "You gonna help me out here, hun?" He looked up at her to see her eyes shut tight and her face pink as she took in deep breaths. "All right, guess I'm doin' it."
He slipped his hands up under her chemise and tugged her pantaloons down her thighs, pulling them past her knees and over her pale feet.
Eliza shifted and bent her knees as Addie sat at the end of the bed. From his place by Eliza's side he watched as Addie poured some kind of oil on her hands and reached up between Eliza's thighs. And for the most fleeting moment Arthur could almost tangibly feel the ire rise up in his younger self—that anyone should touch her where only he had, where only he was allowed.
He looked back at Eliza's pink face. "It might not be the best idea for me to be in here. My head's a little…wrong-side up for this. At least so far."
"No, you can't leave me," she said, catching him by the collar. "Please. Don't."
"All right. If you're sure that's what you want."
She quickly nodded.
"Eliza, I want you to breathe like this. Watch me, now," Addie said showing her the breathing pattern, and Eliza copied it. "That's it. Good. Very good," she said with a smile. "Now, sweet girl, can you hold yourself under your thigh, like this? Arthur, you get the other leg. When she gets too tired, I'll hold up the one she's got."
Again he did as he was directed, scooping her thigh up under her knee.
"All right, good. Now, next time you feel the need, Eliza, you give it a good push. But don't stop breathin' like I showed you."
With one hand under her own thigh and the other gripping Arthur's hand tight, Eliza grunted and dipped her chin when the urge to push was too great to resist.
After another few hours off and on like that with little progress, he poked his head southward. When he noticed blood down on the bed sheet, it was clear his heart skipped a beat as he eyed Addie.
"That supposed to happen?" he whispered to her.
"Only every time, with every woman," she said. "You just focus on her up there; I've got the rest handled."
Another couple hours of Eliza crying and whining and groaning, and they were nowhere closer. And as Arthur stood helplessly watching her agony increase, he was losing his nerve.
"Sh— She's tremblin'," he said.
"It's the pain," Addie answered coolly.
"What? Well, don't you have somethin' to give her?"
"Not if she's gonna keep her strength up."
"Somethin's wrong, now, damn it!" he said. "Ain't supposed to be this way, I can feel it! You just tell me what's goin' on, Addie!"
"Arthur," Addie said evenly and quietly, "I'm gonna say this to you in the most sincere, calm way I can: If you're gonna add a sense of panic to the room, you can just leave it."
Arthur and Eliza looked at each other.
"She's doin' just fine. You are, baby girl," she said, looking up at her and patting her leg.
But Arthur caught an expression in her eyes as she looked back down that had involuntarily slipped out from behind her calm veneer. And his suspicions were proved correct when, after another hour or so took them into the night, Addie pulled him aside.
Her look then was almost all he needed, to know something was truly wrong. It changed the atmosphere in an instant, to see the midwife's deep concern riddled across the wrinkles of her face.
"I'd say she's had what I call a sleeper pregnancy. A wonderful nine months, then a hellish labor. Some ladies have it opposite," she said as she wiped her hand on a washcloth. "Arthur," she whispered to him. "I need you to keep your head when I tell you this. But we're in a bind now. Baby's turned and in the right position, ready. I thought we'd be farther along by now, but it's just… But she's lost some blood, more than I'd like. And she exhausted herself too early. You understand?"
He scrunched up his face, trying to do just that.
"Now, the babe's pressin', down where he needs to be. So it's too late cut into her—"
"Cut?" He closed his eyes and shifted his weight, clearly willing her to slow down.
"And if she don't get on with it, we risk infection and shock and other bad things. I don't wanna get there. Because…" She swallowed, and the wrinkles beneath her brows crinkled as her gaze flitted away for a moment.
"No…no, no, no," Arthur shook his head. "This can't be happening. Not in my dreams, no."
"But she's gotta do the rest on her own. Hear what I'm sayin' to you?" Addie took him by the shoulder. "Arthur. The only way you get Eliza, our sweet Eliza, and your baby outta this, is if you get through to her that she has to find the strength to push through."
As she nodded, he slowly looked back at Eliza, and Arthur looked back with him.
Her head had lolled back onto the pillow. Pieces of her hair were stuck to her pink face, her chemise soaked through with sweat, her belly still full and swollen, and her breathing shallow and ragged. Nearly all her energy and strength had been sapped, it was clear.
He swallowed, slowly walked the grave little distance to her side, and crouched next to the cot. But when she saw him, she smiled.
"Arthur…" she breathed.
"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here."
"Can I tell you somethin'?"
"Anything."
She took a breath, and her face crumpled. "I miss my mama. I truly do. I miss her so, Arthur!" she cried.
Arthur watched his own expression sift like sand, and he knew it was because there was nothing he could do for that.
He brought his big hand under her head, threading his fingers in her hair. And as he held her like that, he swiped his thumb over her soft eyebrow while she looked up at him with big, fatigued eyes.
"I know you do, honey. I know. But I'm here," he brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it. "And our baby's comin'. Hm? D—" he frowned. Everything was coming out of him in a whisper. "Don't you wanna meet our baby?"
Her brows drew up, and she nodded slowly but strongly.
"I know it hurts like hell. I can see it all over you. And it's killin' me. You know why?"
She looked up at him.
He looked into her eyes. His were full of deep, sincere worry. But under them, a subtly wry smirk was edging his mouth. "'Cause I did this to you."
A little chuckle erupted through her nose.
"But I know you got the strength. All right? Okay?" he asked as she gave short, quick nods and sniffed. "And you ain't alone. I'm right here with you, and I ain't goin' anywhere. Not ever. You're gonna be all right. And our baby's gonna be amazing. Already is."
She smiled wide.
He helped her sit up a bit and took her thigh again.
"All right, Eliza," Addie said. "Nice, big breaths, all right? You're goin' all the way this time. I got a good feelin'." She looked up at her from her spot at the end of the bed. "You get the urge, you use every last drop a' that momentum. Understand me?"
Eliza nodded. After a couple minutes, she was shutting her eyes tight, pressing her lips together, and squeezing Arthur's hand hard.
"There. That's it! You're doin' great, baby girl! Keep goin'," Addie said. She glanced at Arthur. "Gimme her hand."
He reached her hand forward for Addie, who pulled it down between Eliza's legs.
"Feel that?" Addie smiled.
Eliza's eyes shot wide. "That's my baby!" she almost broke down into tears. "That's my baby!"
"That's right," Addie smiled. "That's your baby's head. See, he's almost here, dear. Just a little more. Just a little further."
"Almost there. Hear that?" he grinned with relief.
After several more minutes of her panting and grunting, they heard a slippery whoosh, and Arthur looked down to see his child—ruddy, shiny, and pink.
"A little boy. You have a son," Addie smiled, quickly wiping his face and delivering a light smack on his bottom, which promptly caused him to suck in a breath and let out a high-pitched wail.
"Oh! Isaac!" Eliza gasped and bit her lip. "A son, Arthur!" she rested her hand on his forearm without taking her eyes from their newborn. "Our little baby boy."
Arthur watched the younger version of himself go ghost white and take a step back.
"He's on the outside now!" he said, lifting a hand to the back of his own head. "Ain't any way we can put 'im back in, is there?"
"Quit talkin' like that!" Addie snapped at him as she snipped the umbilical cord.
"Arthur! Don't say that, please!" Eliza whimpered.
"I'm sorry, I'm a moron," he whined, "I'm just messin' around! But he— It happened!" he pointed. "It happened, and he's here!"
"'Course it happened!" Addie laughed, wiping their son down. "What, did you think it wasn't gonna?"
"No, it just…"
"Big, tough man, and there you are, scared shitless where you stand," Addie smirked bitterly and shook her head. Placing their newborn son on a soft clean cloth, she brought him to Eliza and gently laid him in her arms as he continued to bleat and cry. "He needs skin to skin, dearie. To know you love him and you're with him."
"Oh, sweet Lord," Eliza breathed, her brows crinkling together, her eyes filling with amazement and pure adoration. She quickly pulled the bodice of her chemise down to expose the top of her chest and brought Isaac to rest against her bare skin. As she did, his breathing gradually smoothed, and his wailing softened.
Addie straightened and smiled at the image. But after a few moments, she turned and stepped towards Arthur.
"Listen to me," she whispered, her tone caustic. "This moment, what you do in this moment, is one of the most important things in your life. She needs you right now. She's a ragged ball of nerves and stress, much worse than you. By miles. She just gave birth to your son."
"My son! Oh, god!" he looked up with wide eyes and ran a hand back through his hair. "I'm a pa?! I—I don't know if I can do this. This is crazy. This downright, doggone, off-the-map crazy. I can't have a kid! You know who I am?!" He eyed Addie and paused. "Well, you don't. But you do!" he looked past her at his fiancé. "Eliza, you know just who I am! I'm gonna screw him up, hun! I'm gonna mess him up!"
"Arthur," Eliza said firmly. "Would you shut up and please come look at him? Come here."
When he locked eyes with her, her unrelenting gaze slowly pulled him towards her like a lasso. But nonetheless, his steps were that of a timid and uncertain poor soul. All that was missing was a hat in his hands.
He gently sat beside her on the cot, looking down at his newborn son for the first time.
.
"Le Practicante," Freddie Hultana
(Isaac's song)
you tu . be /W-zmGO36pb4
.
When the air grew still and quiet, Addie smiled and took her leave of the room.
As Arthur stood to the side watching the intimate, peaceful scene of the three of them, he was filled with a sinking dread that he'd wake up from this at some point.
As he watched his own expression shift and change, he remembered everything he'd felt at that moment, when he'd first seen his son. That he'd been filled—overwhelmed and overtaken—with enrapturing love. Too big to grasp, too deep and beautiful and mysterious to have edges. A love that called to attention and demanded eager and ardent self-sacrifice. A love that somehow carried with it equal measures of unbridled, airy giddiness and heavy weight. Somehow nailed to the beams of a parent's life both an assured unworthiness and a boundless, indescribable gratefulness.
He saw that same awe, now, all across his own young face. He watched him bring a finger up and gently run it over the pale golden fuzz on the side of his new son's pink temple down to his cheek.
Eliza was there, noting everything that was flitting across the face and in the eyes of this new father. Bless her, she'd only held her new son a handful of minutes, yet she shifted to place Isaac in Arthur's arms.
And he looked down and watched him stretch and blink and fidget. His tiny fingers were pruny, and the insides of his little lips were a bit puffy, like they'd been wet for too long. When he yawned, he showed off his tiny toothless gums, and Arthur let out an airy chuckle.
"Isaac," he breathed as he smiled up at Eliza.
She was quite obviously equally smitten and wholly overtaken with adoration for the new life they'd made together.
As Arthur looked back down at their son, she kept her hazy eyes on her fiancé, a warm, rosy grin growing on her mouth.
"I love you, Arthur," she whispered. Though they were alone in the room, it was made even more intimate by the fact that she'd made it just loud enough for him to hear.
But he had heard it.
Arthur watched his younger self hesitantly look up at her. His eyes were steadily held by hers, but his mouth was beginning to hang ajar—wordless.
"Oh, no," Arthur said, his tone gradually rising until he was thundering. "Don't you dare. This is my dream. You say it! Say it!"
He watched him squirm inside, his eyes darting back and forth between hers, as the look in hers slowly began to deflate.
"Don't you dare waste this! You owe her this much. Just say it!"
But his younger self just sat there, only stunted, breathy syllables escaping him.