Chapter Forty-eight

The End of the Day

Elizabeth Cutler

It's been a good day.

I'm too far along with the pregnancy to do anything much by way of work, but I still help out a little with what I can, keeping the patient records for the clinic up to date and treating little ailments like cuts and sprains so Opie and the rest of the staff will have less to deal with. Grandmother does her share of the informal nursing too, with stuff she concocts from the herbs she grows – I hadn't realized when we first left how much more she had to teach me, but hopefully I'll be able to put it all into practice when Malcolm and I finally move on to find a place of our own.

The medical camp is just a few kilometers away from the outcrop where Grandmother's shack is, and I enjoy the walk there and back in the morning, though now that I'm so heavy it's a lot more tiring; I set out before dawn and come back in time for lunch, and I think it's important to keep as mobile as I can for as long as I can. Whenever I get tired I stop and have a little rest, and today I've needed to do that more than usual as the baby's so lively right now that it's actually uncomfortable. Obviously I'm totally happy about this evidence that he or she (I think Malcolm's hoping for a boy, so we'll say 'he') is so full of energy, but hell, he's making his presence felt today.

But finally I make it to the small rocky shelf just below the shack, and pause for a moment to gaze around. I do this every day, hoping to see a figure in the distance, but the tawny spaces are empty as always, save for the flat rays of morning light and the occasional scuttle of a prairie dog.

He will be home in time. He promised me solemnly that he would, and he never broke a promise to me. I hope it will be soon; I'm excited, of course, but I'm a little nervous too, and though I'm not really expecting him to be much help (he'll probably be more nervous than me, if anything), I want to have him here to hold my hand and tell me everything's going to be okay.

Neither of us was thinking about a baby. I was having my contraceptive injections as usual, but the medicines we get here aren't always as reliable as they should be, and when my breasts started to feel tender and I started feeling sick in the mornings I got suspicious. When the clinic confirmed I was pregnant, I ... well, I can't even begin to describe what I felt. Fear, joy, awe ... I guess everything every new mother feels. And I had no idea what Malcolm was going to say; briefly I considered quietly having a termination, but I couldn't bear to do it. This was our child, maybe the only chance we'll have to have one, and I couldn't bring myself to harm it.

I didn't even tell Malcolm till I was three months in, and started to show. I can still see his dumbstruck expression and I was terrified he was going to be furious because of our way of life, which is still a bit on the precarious side. But of course, once he knew it was really happening and he'd gotten over the shock, he was overjoyed. The only problem was, his protective streak went into absolute overdrive and he practically bound Grandmother over to make sure I didn't overtax myself in his absence. If he could have gotten away with it I swear he'd have wrapped me up in a cotton wool coat and had me locked carefully away in a warm room for the duration.

He'll be home soon, I know. Though for the sake of security he never communicates with us, there's a system in place whereby I'd get notification if anything happened to him, so 'no news is good news'.

Grandmother's already sitting on the porch, with Beans on her lap. She's taught herself how to crochet, and the woolly, gaily-colored cot blanket she's working on is growing fast. The community center in the village collects discarded baby clothes in good condition and I've bought quite a lot from there already, putting together my layette. András at the thrift store has made me a pretty rocking cradle from reused timber – it must have taken him hours to sand down and polish the surfaces till they're satin-smooth – and Doveva his wife lined it with an exquisitely embroidered piece of white satin, probably from an old wedding dress someone donated, swapped, or sold on consignment once upon a time. She had her own baby last week, and they were so grateful for my help and support during the pregnancy, they said they both wanted to do something for me to show it. More of the same cloth was sewn up as a long christening robe and presented to me at my baby shower, and I can't wait to see our beautiful baby in it.

I'm so lucky. I can't believe how lucky I am.

The last couple of meters up to the shack are getting to be an effort now I'm so large. Maybe Malcolm wasn't so far out when he insisted before he left the last time that I should quit working altogether for the last six weeks or so, but I love my work so much, and the people have been so kind and generous to us. I can carry on for another week or so – after all, I'm only working a few hours a day.

Yeah. This path's definitely getting steeper. I pause, panting, and decide to try a different route – it's longer, but not so steep.

I turn aside and start picking my way up the broken rock beside the path. I've hardly taken six steps before I hear Beans' unearthly yowl and look up to see her racing down towards me, a ginger streak of warning.

I've been concentrating so hard on where to place each foot that I've paid far too little attention to the stone at either side. Now, far too late, I look down and see the diamond-patterned coils of a large snake barely half a meter to my left. They don't hibernate in this part of the world anymore because it never gets cold enough to make their systems shut down, but Grandmother says she can recall finding more than a dozen of them sleeping under the henhouse decades ago, and these days, at this time of the year when temperatures don't get much above eighteen degrees, they're still sleepy and sluggish from the cold. This one has come out to warm up in the midday sunlight, and probably didn't register my presence till I was almost on top of it. Frightened and aggressive, it's not going to give me a chance to harm it and doesn't care that all I want to do is escape.

I scream and try to jump sideways even as Beans hurtles in. My foot slips on the loose rocky shale, and loses its grip.

The slope is very steep in places, and littered with boulders. I know I'm falling and I can't do anything about it.

My baby, is my last conscious thought.

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