“Well now, don’t you stop praying.”
“I don’t believe I could stop. For more than a minute or two.”
“You might mention yourself,” she said. “And Boughton. And the other one.”
The nurse brought the baby and put him against her side. Such a little thing, he could get lost in the covers. But there he was, all bundled up like a cocoon. The nurse said, “Now he’s happy.” Nothing about giving him the breast. Teddy was leaning against the wall with his arms folded, just watching, not saying a thing, but when the old man lifted his head and glanced at him, he nodded, so slightly, and they all knew what that meant. The old man got up from his chair. “I’ll get it. I don’t know. It seems better than tap water, I suppose.” He was a long time on the stairs, going down and coming back up again, with the little bowl of water trembling in his hands. She didn’t see any light in it.
Boughton said, “John, let me hold that for you.”
The old man took his Bible from the top of the dresser and opened it and read, “‘But thou art he that took me out of the womb; thou didst make me trust when I was upon my mother’s breasts. I was cast upon thee from the womb; thou art my God since my mother bare me. Be not far from me; for trouble is near; for there is none to help.’”
There was a silence. Boughton said, “Yes. I’m a little surprised you chose that text, John. It’s a fine text. I just wouldn’t have expected it. Don’t mind me.”
“No, you’re right. I’ve had that psalm on my mind lately, I guess.”
“Those verses in 139, ‘For thou didst form my inward parts: thou didst cover me in my mother’s womb’—very fine.” He said, “The darkness is as light to You,” and he shook his head. “Excuse me.” He began groping for his handkerchief, holding the bowl in his weaker hand, and the water spilled, enough of it falling on the baby to make him mad, to judge by the look on his face and the sound he made.
Teddy laughed. “That was quite a howl.” He came over to the side of the bed. “I think he’s been playing possum.”
Boughton said, “Yes, well, I don’t think that was an actual baptism, though. I do apologize. There’s still a little water left in the bowl here.”
And Lila said, “We’re going to get this wet blanket off of him, first of all.” Teddy unbundled him and gave him to her, and there he was, a little naked man, not a Christian yet, needing comfort, then lying against her naked side where she unbuttoned herself so he could feel the softness of her breast. That wound when they cut him away from her, that dark knot, but never mind. He bumped his face against her side and pursed his mouth and found her breast with his wavering fist. She turned on her side to help him.
Teddy said, “Well, look at that! He’s pretty spry.”
Boughton was so upset with himself that all he could think of to say was “There is some water here. It hardly takes any at all.” Then he said, “It’s snowing again. That’s good, I suppose, if you want snow. I never saw such a spring.”
Teddy took the bowl out of his trembling hands and set it aside and put his arms around him. “Here,” he said. “Just rest your head for a minute. You’re all worn out.” And he did rest his head against Teddy’s chest, his sweater, crooked and small as he was, her old man watching the way he did when she knew he was thinking, that’s how it would be to have a son. And then he turned back the sheet and looked at the son he had, so small he could fit in her two hands, but alive just the same, and he laughed. The tip of his finger on the little bird bone of your shoulder.
* * *
So that other life began, almost the one she used to imagine for herself when she thought she might just slip a baby under her coat and walk away with it. She knew better than to waste that time. There isn’t always someone who wants you singing to him or nibbling his ear or brushing his cheek with a dandelion blossom. Somebody who knows when you’re being silly, and laughs and laughs. So long as he was little enough to carry, she could hardly bring herself to put him down. She thought, I know what happens next. Old Boughton will tell you that story a hundred times. He will say he performed a miracle and that was why we had to name you after him, because he really was your godfather, yes! If anybody in the world has ever had a godson! And that is why you love the snow so much! You were christened with it! And you will wonder what such an old, old man could have to say to you, what it could mean. Putting his face down close to yours, making his eyes big, and you just staring at the way his flesh hangs off his skull, and how there are always whiskers in the creases of it. It’s all strange. People never really believe they were taken from their mother’s womb and laid on her breast. I could see your eyes behind your eyelids, and veins through the skin of your belly, and they were that blue that was never meant to be seen. It is so strange that it belongs in the Bible, with the seraphim
