Page 138 of The Way We Score

“It’s actually a Biewer Terrier.” Her eyes sparkle, and I hesitate.

“Did you say a Beaver—” I don’t finish when a squirrel pops its head up, and the little black-and-white dog goes crazy barking.

“Oh!” The lady reaches down to try and catch him, but he bolts.

My heart jumps, and I reach out to try and help her, when a hollow thump sounds inside me and a gush of water rushes down my legs. All at once, I’m hit with a contraction so hard, I almost have totake a knee.

“Oh no…” I gasp, reaching out for a skinny tree growing alongside the path. “Why, baby girl?”

Another contraction hits, and cold sweat breaks across my forehead. I’ve had stomach cramps before, but this pain is like my insides being clamped in a vise.

“Oh, no…” I cry this time, squeezing my eyes shut as the twist keeps going.

It feels like it won’t let up, until it finally does.

Gasping for air, I look up to see the woman is down the way, still trying to catch her little dog. “Help…” I try to call to her, but it comes out as more of a yelp.

The contractions are coming so fast, I can’t walk. I’m starting to panic. I’m looking all around for anyone, but on this mid-morning in March, the path is pretty deserted.

Tears are in my eyes, and I hold my stomach, doing my best to keep moving forward through the pain. “You couldn’t have waited until I got to Mom’s?”

Another blast of pain stops me, and I bend forward, putting my hands on my upper thighs as I cry out. My mind spins, and when it finally stops, I fumble to get my phone out of my pocket.

I can’t believe this is happening. After all this time of waiting and trying and everything I did, I’m going to have this baby right here on the sidewalk. Terror strangles my throat, and my hands shake as another contraction starts.

Again, I can’t help a loud groan, which is what they taught us to do in birthing class rather than scream. Blackness starts to lower over my eyes, but I try to fight it. I can’t faint right now. I’m trying to remember… HypnoBirthing, what’s my mantra?

None of it matters as I reach for the nearby bench, using it to lower to my knees…

32

Garrett

“How big is she?” I climb out of my truck, wearing my animal control vest and walking slowly up the narrow, two-lane road to where a group of older men stand around with their arms crossed.

Aubrey is with me, and she hesitates, taking out her gloves. “Looks like an eleven-footer, which means it’s probably a male.”

It’s the most excitement we’ve had since the snakes, and I’m pretty much as terrified now as I was then.

The alligator lying across this little country road all the way south of town is bigger than me, and he’s not going anywhere.

I grab the cooler Aubrey packed from the bed of my truck, and now the question is who’s going to get close enough to handle this situation?

“It looks like he’s asleep,” I whisper as we stop beside the old-timers.

“It’s been there all morning,” one of the fellows says. “Didn’t even move when we drove off the road to go around.”

“Did you call Jeff over at Alligator Alley?” I suggest.

“He’s in the middle of doing a show for a bunch of preschoolers.”

“It’s all right. He couldn’t have gotten here as fast as us anyway.” Aubrey is as calm as she was dealing with the snakes. She opens the cooler and takes out a medium-sized chicken breast. “Get this on the loop, Garrett. I pumped it full of Diazepam.”

“Okay…” I take the chicken and fasten it to the heavy steel pole. “Then what do we do?”

“Duct tape his jaw and load him in the back of your pickup.” A different old guy nods at my shiny, practically new Chevy.

“Not in my truck.” I shake my head.

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