Chapter 12 - Tunneling

Grace became quiet for a moment, her eyes wide open with her hands still on Thomas's stomach.

"What? What's wrong?" said John. Grace stared at Thomas's abdomen.

"Grace? You're scaring me. What's going on?" demanded John.

"The baby … it moved …" she whispered. John looked towards her hands. Thomas was still asleep in the bed.

"What … You mean … you haven't felt that … until just now?" said John.

"No, not till now," she said.

"Has … has he felt it?" John asked shyly, nodding his head towards his motionless brother. Her eyes and hands remained still on Tommy's stomach.

"I … I don't think so," she said.

"How … how far along is he?" John asked as if afraid.

"Six months … "she responded, "here, give me your hand."

"What." said John, becoming squeamish again.

"You want more proof, well here it is." she said looking at him.

"Ok …" John exhaled as he reluctantly gave in to her her demands. She took his hand and put it quickly on the spot where hers had been. They waited.

"Grace … Grace this is awkward. I don't feel any …" John stopped mid sentence. His eyes went wide as he felt something from the inside press against the palm of his hand. Despite the strangeness of it all, John smiled in a giddy sort of way.

"Oh my god." He said in disbelief. Half laughing he smiled at Grace who smiled back. His happiness faded, however, when his eyes met his brother's closed ones. "Grace, why is he still out?" John said with a worried tone. She turned her head to face Tommy's. "Tommy?" she called. "Tommy?" she called louder as she took his face in her hands. A fevered persisted. His eyes moved furiously behind the walls of his eyelids. Tunneling in the dark, he could hear the sound of shovels, and something else small and faded in the distance. His name perhaps? A baby's cry?

"He's burning up. Where the hell is Arthur with that ice?!" exclaimed Grace.

"ARTHUR!" bellowed John as he ran out of the room to fetch him. "ARTHUR!" he yelled, only to find him with a bottle.

"Jesus Christ." said John. He snatched the bottle and threw it with a crash in a bin. "And you wonder why Tommy had me look after you." John said. Arthur proceed to punch him in the face, but Arthur was too close in proximity for the punch to land anywhere. John caught him under the arm, but the momentum carried them to the floor. Grace walked in after hearing the ruckus.

"WILL YOU STOP!" she screamed. They both seem to stop squirming for a brief moment. Their breathing was heavy. "Your brother needs your help right now and THIS is what you do!" she yelled.

There was a pause. Arthur got off John and clumsily helped him to his feet. Arthur then made a second attempt to get ice. They all returned in silence to the room where Tommy lay. His shirt was still open, exposing the growing dome that occupied his mid section. His feet were propped up by pillows, his mouth was slightly open, and sweat dripped from his head past his cheek. His body remained motionless except for the rapid slashing underneath his eyelids. Arthur had not yet seen his brother's newly changed body, nor had he ever seen him look so weak, not even during the war. He was frozen by fear and shock yet again.

"Arthur!" snapped Grace. He reanimated himself instantly. "Can I have the ice, please?" Grace asked.

"Yeah … sure," Arthur said, still half drunk. He gave her the bowl of ice without looking at her and took a seat in the far corner while staring at Tommy. Grace grabbed a washcloth from the washroom and damped it with the melting ice. She dabbed the cloth on Tommy's face. John opened a window to let in the colder outside air.

"Why won't he wake up?" John asked concerned.

"I … I don't know," Grace said helplessly. Arthur stayed quiet in the chair. "I think he's dreaming," Grace said.

"Or having a nightmare," suggested John. He grabbed the bowl of melting ice.

"What are you doing?" Grace asked fearfully.

"I've had just about enough of this," said John angrily, bowl in hand.

"Wait! You could make his condition worse!" Grace exclaimed.

"Which one. The one where he is pregnant or the one where he won't wake up." John said directly. Arthur flinched in his corner at those words. "He's not pregnant … can't be …" Arthur mumbled.

"Shut up. Just shut up and sit quietly in your chair, Arthur, alright," John said looking him square in the eye. Arthur took his eyes away from his younger brother's entrapping gaze and did as he was told.

"Right," John said now looking at Thomas. He took the bowl in his hands and dumped it on Tommy's face.