Page 108 of Silver Hunter

He held me as the contraction zapped through my body. I squeezed his hand, breathing through the pain. This one lasted longer, and I was afraid we didn’t have much time. I was told we’d have plenty of time as first time births took longer.

I hurried my pace to the house, and had another one on my way up the stairs. Hunter helped me to the bed, removed my underwear, propped up a pillow, and got in touch with the village on a shortwave radio.

“Abuela’s on her way. We need water. I’ll go down to the river.”

I felt pressure between my legs and the urge to push grew.

“The river?”

“No, you’re right. We need hot water. The river’s a bad idea.”

Oh, God. He was running around the room like a confused chicken. A chicken with a bear’s body, and I’d never seen him this scattered. I started laughing so hard at the image that I was crying, and Hunter finally stopped.

“Are you okay?”

A fresh contraction tore through my abdomen. I rose to my knees, bent over like a dog, and took a position on all fours. The urgency to push forced me into a squat.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but it feels right. The baby’s coming.”

“What?”

“It’s coommiiing right nooow,” I cried, feeling the stress around my belly compress my organs.

Hunter positioned himself underneath my legs. Thankfully, he’d had the mind to find fresh swaddling cloths and held them ready. I pushed, my face tense and hot. Sweat streamed down my face and body. I panted at the moment of relief, but then the pressure surged again and I pushed harder.

“Catch it,” I said to Hunter.

“It’s not a football.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“No, but I’m not a football player either. I watched YouTube and read some books.”

“When?”

“Push, Grace. Push.”

I gripped his shoulders for support, released my breath, and tightened my jaw, giving into the pain and ache.

“It’s gonna pop!” I screamed.

“Genies do it all the time.”

“What?” My head flew up.

“The head’s almost out. Give me a strong push on the next contraction.”

The last push flushed the pain away. Relief and a need to hear a cry surged through me. Hunter removed the baby and wrapped a cloth around her—or him.

“What is it? Is it okay?” I lowered to the bed with my legs spread wide, watching him maneuver not like Tarzan or a caveman. He looked like a doctor.

“Give me a sec.”

He clamped the umbilical chord, cleared the baby’s nose with an aspirator we had ready, and passed me the swaddled bundle. The baby finally cried.

“Congratulations, Mamma. We have a daughter.”

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