The rain changed from a mist to a steady drizzle. No one spoke. A great horned owl softly hooted from the northern woods.
“Be careful of the roots,” Ellis said as they entered the forest trail.
Ahead, she heard Jackie’s voice. When they arrived at the edge of the field, Viola was on her hands and knees, wearing only a man’s shirt, having a strong contraction.
Ellis knelt at her side. “I’m here, sweetheart.”
“Mom!” she gasped. “It hurts! I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”
“Let Rose and me help.” She beckoned Jackie’s mother to sit on her other side. They rubbed her lower back. “How does that feel?”
She squeezed her eyes and groaned. She couldn’t answer. Her contractions were almost continuous. But she was unusually quiet.
Max was trying to get the rest of the group to take the edges of a tarp she’d opened. Keith understood. The blanket Viola was on was soaked and muddy. “Hold the tarp up, and we’ll make a clean, dry place for her,” Keith said.
River, Jasper, Huck, and Reece each took a corner of the tarp to make a canopy while Max and Keith spread another tarp and two blankets beneath it. “Will she let us move her?” Keith asked Jackie.
“I don’t know.”
Max heard none of that. She went to Viola, put her hands on her cheeks, and looked closely into her eyes. She gestured at the dry blanket. Viola gave no answer, and Max didn’t wait for one. She wrapped her arms around Viola’s chest, lifted her fully off the ground, and carefully set her down on the clean blanket without getting her muddy boots on it. She stripped off Viola’s soaked shirt and gently dressed her in a clean, dry flannel. Viola seemed in too much misery to notice.
Ellis, Jackie, and Rose took off their shoes and moved to the dry blanket. Jonah joined them.
“Will she let me examine her?” Ryan asked Ellis.
“Ryan is going to make sure everything is okay,” Ellis told Viola. “Jackie will feel better.”
She nodded slightly.
They positioned her on her back to make it easier for Ryan to see. He took off his shoes and sat next to Jackie. Before he did anything, he said to Jackie, “You’re doing a great job. Tell me where she is.”
“She’s fully dilated, and she has the urge to push.”
“Did you discuss pain help?” he asked.
“Yes. She doesn’t want it.”
“Then I won’t give her anything unless she asks.” He listened to Viola’s chest with his stethoscope, then to the baby’s heartbeat. “Mama and baby sound perfect,” he said.
Ellis felt like she could breathe again.
Ryan used his flashlight to see the baby’s progress as Viola bore down with another contraction. “Jackie, do you see? That’s the baby’s head.”
Jackie looked as dazed as any new father.
“Everything looks good,” Ryan said. “She just needs to push.”
Viola continued to be quiet through the pushing.
“You can scream all you want, Viola,” Ryan said.
“She doesn’t,” Jackie said. “This is how she’s been.”
“We don’t care if you sound like a squealing warthog,” River said.
“And we promise not to take videos,” Reece said.
“Shut . . . up!” Viola said, almost laughing through the contraction.
The four young men holding the tarp snickered.
Ellis and Rose helped Viola into a squat. But that meant they couldn’t see what was happening with the baby.
“I need to see the stars,” Viola said. “Move that blanket or whatever it is.”
“It’s raining,” Ellis said. “There won’t be stars.”
“Actually, there are,” River said.
They pulled the tarp back a little. The sky was clearing to the east, though rain still pattered on the tarp. A gibbous waxing moon was rising above the trees. Fleeting billows of clouds drifted like gray smoke over the lopsided orb of moonlight. Bright stars shined here and there as the clouds moved over them.
Jackie kissed Viola’s cheek. “Look. Isn’t that beautiful?”
“Yes. Yes . . .” She wept, staring at the moon and clouds as she pushed. She kept her eyes on the dreamlike scene. It helped calm her. Ellis felt her focus, get control of the pain.
Rain beat a soft rhythm on the tarp. No one spoke. Everyone sensed silence was best for her.
Viola bore down again and again in her quiet way. The rain patter gradually diminished. The moon rose above the trees, silvering the dry grasses and wildflowers of the dormant winter field.
A flock of black-bellied tree ducks called as they flew over the eastern fields. Their nocturnal whistles were one of the loveliest sounds of that land, like children of Pan playing ethereal music on instruments fashioned from marsh reeds.
Viola closed her eyes, surely listening to the birds, as she pushed her baby closer to the earth.
“Jackie,” Ryan said softly. He shined his light beneath Viola. “Get ready.”
Jackie prepared to take the baby into his hands. With two last grueling pushes, the baby slid onto his palms.
“Go to it,” Ryan said. He handed him a small towel and the bulb suction.
“Is she okay?” Viola said. “Jackie . . . ?”
Jackie laid the infant on the blanket and gently wiped its face. He expertly suctioned the nose. The baby made a soft cry.
Ellis could feel collective relief in the group.
“It’s a girl,” Jackie said in a shaking voice. “She’s getting pink. She looks good.”
Keith propped Viola up with folded blankets so she could see the baby. The tarp came down. River, Jasper, Huck, and Reece leaned down to look.
“She’s as quiet as our Bird Girl,” Reece said.
Viola laughed through soft sobs.
“She is quiet,” Jackie said to Ryan. “Does she look okay to you?”
“Some babies are quiet. Let me take a look.”
Ryan checked her over and listened to her heart. She began to cry louder. “There, you see? She wants nothing to do with me. She wants Daddy and Mama.”
Ellis wasn’t sure he should say that. If they’d decided to give the baby up for adoption, encouraging bonding might be painful.
Ryan helped Jackie wrap the baby in a clean towel, and Jackie laid her on Viola’s chest. Viola wept and kissed her. Ryan gave Jackie more gentle guidance through the process of
