Rudolph

Prologue

The red sun was lazily slouching into the dusty, gray horizon when Ellsworth Fletcher ran up to him. The slender young man was panting and red in the face. He took a moment to catch his breath before beginning to speak.

"There has been a telegram sent for you, sir," he said. "It's your wife, sir. She's just gone into labor. They've already sent for a midwife, but I don't know much more. They're sending Basil in to cover for you, so you can go to her now if you want."

Don Russell was the Overseeing Foreman in an important pottery company that manufactured plates and saucers of all kinds. He was of a medium build, with strong arms and a rough face. He had an air of a man that worked hard and stayed up late to do it, and his jaw was often covered in coarse stubble that he hadn't had time to shave.

He had started his career working in a smaller pottery company when he was thirteen and had discovered that he had a knack for organizing people and getting them to work as productively as possible. At fifteen years of age, he had switched to a small factory job which he held for many years, and advanced quickly to a junior overseer.

When he was nineteen his family moved to a larger city where he met his wife, Vixie, in a textile mill. They courted for a short while until Vixie's father decided to educate her in the art of housekeeping and she was apprenticed to a large German woman who seemed determined to keep the two apart. In the meantime, the mill went out of business, casting Don into an unfortunate position where he seemed to be constantly in between jobs. When at last he found a job he could keep at a large pottery company he was delighted to see that Vixie worked next-door in a laundry house.

They courted again for a few months and were married on Christmas day. Don had been 23 and Vixie 20. After a while Don was promoted to the respected position of Overseeing Foreman and Vixie was able to relinquish her job. Two months later she became pregnant. Unfortunately, one of the twins she had been expecting was stillborn, and the other died nine weeks later of Cholera. They were devastated until Vixie became pregnant for a second time.

Now she was in labor and Don was determined to be with her. He ran into Basil on his way out and paused to give him a quick briefing before dashing out into the fading October sunlight, almost slipping on the thick ice that covered the steps. Anxiety made his heart pound and his stomach contract sickeningly as he hopped on a horse-drawn cab and told the driver where to go, slipping him and extra coin for a quick ride. Each block they passed seemed to take hours, but they eventually made it to the small house he shared with his wife. He barely had time to thank the driver as he sprinted to the door, slamming it shut and rushing up the stairs to the bedroom.

Vixie lay on a white blanket spread across their bed. Her soft blue nightgown was hiked up around her waist, slouching off her swollen belly in silky folds. Her legs were parted, thighs straining and sweaty. Her fine-boned and beautiful face was red and damp with the effort: eyes screwed shut and mouth set in a pained grimace. She groaned, head lifting slightly and hands clenching fistfuls of sheets, then lay back, panting.

"Push!" The midwife urged, peering between her slender legs. Vixie did, trembling with the effort, her moan turning into a scream. Don dropped his bag, running to her side and grabbing her tensed hand.

"Vixie! I'm here darling," He whispered tenderly, stroking her shaking fingers. "I'm with you, honey. You're gonna be OK, you're gonna be fine."

"Donnie? Donnie, it hurts, I can't do it, I can't," She panted urgently, fearfully, before grasping his hand in hers and yelling as she worked to give birth to their child.

"How is she?" Don asked tensely, "How is she doing?"

"Very well, actually," the midwife replied, looking up at him. "Her first birth has helped her to be ready for this one, so it will be easier."