With my cell in hand I call my father, not sure who the doctor on call for the Cartel is in this area. We have one physician in every state, which can sometimes be a great thing, but other times they’re too far away to make a difference. The ringing sound on the other end fills my ears until it goes to his voicemail.
If he were around, he’d answer.
I call him again, and again until I’ve now called him three times and it’s gone straight to voicemail yet again. Instead of halting my efforts I text him.
To: Father
Amara is going into labor. Who is the doctor here?
If she were going to keep the child, I could take her to the local hospital . . . but I can’t do that. Not since she’s going to give the baby up. I’m able to have the documentation altered to say Yolanda and Manuel are the parents of the child, and that it was delivered by a Cartel physician . . . but if we were to go to the hospital the birth certificate would have Amara’s name. She wouldn’t be able to give the baby up like she’s decided.
I try to figure out some sort of plan, but I come up empty every time. She has to stay here. If she wants this child to grow up with normal parents, she doesn’t have a choice. I want to be able to take her to the hospital, to at least get the medical care she deserves . . . but if I do it’ll alter everything she’s clearly stated she wants.
I stare at my phone and wait to see the three little dots appear, but nothing does. Fuck. I don’t know what’s going on, but this is the worst timing for him to be out of reach. I turn back and face Amara, walking steadily over to her and take a seat on the lounge chair beside her. I take her hands in mine and look her directly in the eyes. “I’m not going to lie to you. Okay?”
“Oh God. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I can’t get in contact with my father. We have a physician assigned to every state for the familia and Cartel. I don’t know who’s assigned to this territory, so I called my father. I texted him as well and have gotten no response so far.”
“What does that mean?” Amara asks, the worry showing through her expression.
“It means he’s out of reach, and most of all it means we have two options here. We can—”
Amara lets out a blood curdling scream, she rips her hand from my grip and holds her stomach. Her brows furrow together in pain and her nostrils flare as she tries to breathe. She moans for a few moments until she relaxes out of nowhere. Jesus. I am not qualified to deal with this.
“What are the options?” She cries while tears stream down.
I suck in a deep breath, knowing this choice will be an impossible one to make. “I can get you in one of the cars and take you to the hospital, or we can stay and you can give birth here.”
“Something must be wrong with going to the hospital. So, tell me what it is.” She instantly replies.
“If we go to the hospital they’ll already process the birth certificate. You’ll be listed as the mother and you could adopt the baby out . . . but everything would get much more difficult with the Mexican government involved.”
Amara shuts her eyes for a moment and grimaces. After a few seconds she looks right at me. “I shouldn’t have to stay here and give birth. I should be able to have this baby in a hospital, with doctors and nurses surrounding her . . . but she needs a good life. You say I have a choice Dante, but the reality is I don’t. I have to stay here, because leaving means she will be hurt. Not in a physical manner, but in her life. I want the best for her . . . so I’ll stay here with you and I’ll give birth to her . . . but please, please tell her parents she’ll be here soon.”
“Okay,” I reply, taking my phone out I text Yolanda.
To: Yolanda
Come to the house. It’s time.
Amara moans with pure agony again. This time she grabs onto my forearm and holds onto me, digging her nails into my skin. “God, this fucking hurts!” She cries.
I don’t know what the hell is going on, or why these bursts of pain are getting closer together for her. I have no fucking clue what this means.
“Do you know what you’re doing!?” She hollers, even though I’m right beside her.
“No, I don’t.” I admit, watching her eyes widen.
“For fuck’s sake, Google something!”
I dropped the phone right out of my hands from her demeanor changing. I picked my phone back up and started searching for anything I needed to know during natural birth. Within ten seconds I wish I didn’t. I learned way too much about what happens to women’s bodies, including how the delivery doesn’t end after the baby’s born. The placenta is delivered after that.
The most important things tell me I’ll need a lot of towels and a knife or something to cut the cord. But, more importantly, I’ll need something to sever the cord two inches from the baby’s stomach, the middle of it, and a few inches from the mother. Otherwise it could lead to excessive bleeding and I don’t want either of these girls to go through anything horrific.
“Amara,
