Joan did an inspection of his hands as the sky darkened. She turned his hands back and forth, making sure that everything was going to be ok.
"You kept your gloves on?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Good," she patted him on the hands, and Tammy started frying up slices of SPAM over the fire.
Mort's mouth watered as the meat product sizzled in the pan.
"Oh, shit," Tammy said.
It looked like Tammy had pissed herself. She stood next to the fire, her hands in mid-air like she didn't know what to do.
"Oh, shit," she said again.
"What is it?" Mort asked.
"Her water broke," Katie said.
The saliva that had gathered in Mort's mouth at the prospect of freshly fried SPAM seemed to evaporate. "Now?" he asked.
"Now."
A flake of snow fell from the sky, followed by another. Mort watched as Katie and Joan led Tammy inside the ranger station.
"Get some water on the boil," Joan said. "We have to sterilize some towels."
Mort could do this. He pulled a slice of SPAM off the fire, popping it into his mouth. It exploded with the rich flavor of salt and whatever else was in the processed meat. Then he started scooping snow into their largest pot. He set it on the fire to boil, wondering what he should do next.
****
Theresa opened the door to find Mort standing there. Sweat plastered her long hair to her forehead. Behind her, Liz was sliding into her jeans. They were loose and baggy now. Liz had been losing weight, they all had.
"What is it?" she asked impatiently.
"Tammy's having her baby," Mort said, his eyes as big and round as cue balls.
"Shit," Theresa said.
"What? I thought you'd be happy," Mort said.
"She's like a month early."
"What's that mean?"
"Means there could be problems," she said.
Mort nodded his head, and his eyes went even bigger.
Theresa yelled over to Liz in the back of the trailer. "Tammy's having her baby," she called back to her. "I'm gonna help Mort. Come along when you're ready."
Liz gave her a thumbs-up, and Theresa grabbed her jacket and stepped out into the cold.
"What'd Joan tell you to do?"
"I got some water on the fire, waiting for it to boil… and…"
"And what?"
Mort looked embarrassed. "And that's all she told me to do."
Theresa shook her head. Men were all the same. They wouldn't know to wipe their own ass unless a woman told them to. "Go into the unused trailers and grab all of the sheets off the beds. We're going to need to boil them. Once you get those sheets, bring 'em to me, and head inside and just be around Joan and Tammy if they need anything."
"But I don't know nothin' about delivering a baby."
"Don't matter," she said. "It's gonna come whether you know anything about it or not."
Theresa sat there, waiting for the water to boil. Its still surface reflected the small light coming from the cloudy sky. She was alone now. She didn't like to be alone. When she was alone, that's when the bad thoughts would come. For the most part, she was able to forget the loneliness. She felt her baby move in her belly, and she patted it absently with her hand. I guess I'm not totally alone.
The babies were coming. She was terrified of having her own baby. She felt like the baby growing inside her was strong, but this was a strange time now. This was a time when a pregnancy could kill you. There weren't any hospitals anymore. If something went wrong, they had to rely on Joan to fix it, and she didn't have nearly the shit that she would need to do the job right.
Tammy… for all she knew, Tammy could be dying in that ranger station right now. She liked the girl. She felt like a daughter, though she was only a few years younger than herself. Her innocence and child-like spaciness made her seem younger than that. And now she could be dying. It was a tale as old as time, mothers dying during childbirth. Or worse, babies dying during childbirth. What would happen if the umbilical cord got wrapped around that baby's neck and it died? Would it turn into one of the dead, eating its way out from inside its mama? She shivered at the thought and pulled her coat tighter, burying the lower half of her face in the top of the zipped-up jacket. Dark thoughts. Now was not the time for dark thoughts.
Liz threw open the door of the trailer they all shared and came down the steps to stand next to her at the fire. "Aw, who let the SPAM get cold?" She reached into the pan and pulled out a square of SPAM, thick with congealed grease, and popped it into her mouth. Theresa focused on her chewing. Normally, the sound of chewing made her want to punch something, but in this case, it was a nice distraction.
The doors of one of the trailers slammed shut as Mort moved onto the next trailer, a bundle of dusty sheets in his arms. The water in the pot began to hiss.
"You hear anything about Tammy?" Liz asked, still chewing.
She was about to answer when there was a scream from the ranger station. Her heart quickened its pace. What was happening in there?
"That doesn't sound good," Liz said. She was excellent at stating the obvious.
"No, it doesn't," Theresa said.
"You think we should go in there and help out?"
"We'd just be in
