The Dark Days

Prologue

 Mama was screaming, louder than I'd ever heard her scream, louder than any of the other labouring women had ever screamed. Her face was sweaty and her sweat-wet hair clung to her forehead and her flustered cheeks.

Why isn't Papa here? Papa should be here. My heart hammered in my little chest. I was scared, terrified, I didn't know why mama's blood-curdling scream scared me. She was my Mama and I'd never seen her that distraught, that pained, and that close to death.

I was only eight years old, I had no idea what I could do to help but I wanted to try anyway. I needed to try. I needed to do something—anything—to take Mama's pain away. Until I could figure out what to do, until I could think through Mama's screams, I held her hand as tightly as I could and imagined my squeezing was causing her pain. I imagined that I was in control of the pain so that I would be forced to find a way out of this.

"It's okay, Mama. You're almost there." The lie was effortless. For all I knew, my brother would only come into this world by daybreak and that was hours and hours away. Nana went to the foot end of Mama and Papa's four-poster bed, the floorboards creaking under her heavy footsteps.

Nana was calmer than I, calmer than Mama as she lifted Mama's nightdress and nodded, "The babe crowns, Beth. Now is the time to muster your strength and push him out of you. This babe wishes to be born now."

Mama's lip trembled as she breathed deeply, her spittle flying in every direction. Still gripping her hand, I picked up the cloth soaking in the bucket, the water cold as ice, and dabbed it on Mama's face. Nana had spent the better part of the evening doing it, it seemed like it was a good idea. Mama took another deep breath and when she pushed, she both squeezed my hand and screamed loud enough that were she a siren, our crockery would shatter. Mama squeezed my hand so tight I thought she might have broken bones.

But I held on. My brother would be a fighter. Only a fighter would cause this much pain at the precipice of life. "Jane, get your mother some water from outside, she will need it," Nana spoke to me. Wide-eyed and panting, I nodded quickly, kissed Mama's cheek, and promised to be right back.

I ran outside as fast my small legs would allow, throwing the stained pinewood front door open and letting the cold air cool the room. The chilly night air stung my cheeks enough that tears prickled at my eyes, but I ignored them. Mama needed me.

I leaped off the front rickety porch and passed our small garden of vegetables, passed my table of crushed leaves, and came to an abrupt halt in front of the borehole beside our cottage. I wasted no time and began pulling on the string to hoist the water-filled bucket out of the ground.

The bucket was heavy and I had never done this alone but tonight, I must. Tonight, I will. I could hear Mama screaming through the thin walls and the need to ease her pain fueled me to heave the bucket to the very top of the shallow bricked wall. I yanked it off the wall, nearly spilling the water all over the floor as I did, and poured it into the filtration Papa had built. Within minutes the water trickled out of the bottom funnel and into a clean bucket. My relief had my knees threatening to buckle.

"JANE!" Nane yelled just as my fingers grazed the bucket. The sudden yell startled me, I jolted upright and into the underside of my table, "On my way, Nana!"

There's a sharp pain where I'd knocked my back but I shove the pain aside, and turn back to the bucket of water, ready to grab it and run. But there was powder in the water. It was sinking to the bottom of the bucket. One of the bowls on my table had tipped over when I'd jolted into it and its contents dumped over the side of the table, and into the bucket.

It was the valerian root I'd crushed into a powder the day before. I'd planned to sprinkle it around our garden to get the birds to stay away. Its odour was pungent enough to keep them away. And now it was in Mama's water. Panicked and out of time, I toss a dash of mint leaf powder into the bucket as well. I give it a quick swirl and prayed that the powder dissolved by the time Mama swallowed it. I also prayed that the mint taste would be overlooked and masked by the fact that the water was so cold enough to be just above freezing.

I kept swirling the water as I lumbered back to the house, stumbled over the threshold, and shut the door with my foot.

"You certainly took your own time. Go there, help your mother drink." Nana gestured towards mama. She was still as sweaty as she had been when I'd left but she looked exhausted and the skin below her eyes had darkened.

"I'm here, Mama." My smile was weak, laced with fear and anxiety. I retrieve the glass from the nightstand and scoop out some water. The water was clear as I held it to Mama's lips but that did nothing to calm my pounding heart as I waited for a reaction. A moment passed, then another and another. With each moment that passed, Mama breathed easier.

"One last push, Beth." Nana hadn't noticed any difference in Mama, or in myself.

Mama took a steadied breath and pushed as long as she could. Two heartbeats later, we heard his cry. My brother had finally come into this world and into our life. Nana moved him to the side, cleaning him as best she could with the warm water and swaddling him in the blanket she'd spent the last nine months perfecting before she finished up with Mama.

I gave Mama another glass of water, then another. We were on the third cup when Nana returned to the foot end of the bed and told Mama to be strong, she'd survived something that has killed so many women and she did it twice. Nana plied Mama with affirmations about the courage and bravery that it took to conceive and birth two live children, and the blessings and joy it would bring into her life. But Mama was nonresponsive. She seemed almost drowsy and I knew without a doubt, that it had to be because of the valerian root powder.

Nana continued her string of praises and pulled something fleshy out of Mama and yet she barely winced. It was then that Mama's head lolled back and she was awake no more. I couldn't focus on Nana or my brother who was wailing for the comfort of our Mama. All I could do was stare at her chest and watch the rise and fall of it.

I wanted to see my brother, hold him and help Nana thoroughly clean him. But I couldn't move. For fear of poisoning Mama, I stayed and watched her chest. I stayed at her side until the sun rose and Nana called to say that Papa was within sight. Mama, who must have been awake, faced the bedroom door and smiled.

"Mama, I was so worried, you slept for a long time." The words rushed out of my mouth. I hadn't slept a wink and I could feel the fatigue nipping at me.

Mama cupped my cheek in her hand, "It's normal to rest after a tiring labour."

"And the pain?" I inquired, "Is it normal to be in such pain?"

She frowned, "No, but he lives. And that matters most. What confuses me is that the afterbirth Nana retrieved, after the babe was born, didn't hurt at all. Did you see if Nana did anything unusual?"

"No, but I did." Tears pooled in my eyes. Mama's brows furrowed as she tilted her head, confused. I continued, "When I left to fetch you the cold water, I accidentally put valerian root powder in the water. Then I added mint to hide the taste and smell."

Her face slackened as her eyes widened. Mama smacked her lips together then rolled her tongue around as if there might be any trace of it still in her mouth. I squeezed her hand and shook my head, then looked pointedly at the bucket of water still beside the bed. "It's the valerian root, Mama. It eased your pain."

"Get rid of that water, RIGHT NOW." She said through her teeth and all but shoved me away from her. "Now, Jane. Make haste!" I scrambled to my feet, knocking the stool over as I grabbed the bucket and took it to the window, emptying its contents onto the sand patch below. My hands were shaking as I tossed the bucket out of the window too and then returned to Mama's side. "NEVER say that aloud again, Jane. No one must know what you did last night. Not your Nana, not your Papa, not even your brother must know what helped his birth. This stays between you and me. And do not use valerian root for anything other than what we know it to be for, ever again, am I clear?" Mama grabbed my chin, forcing me to see the stern and grave warning in her eyes.

"Yes, Mama." I lied. I wish her warning had been enough to stop me.