Nis Gerpm

Chapter 9

The next two concerts for nine-weeks-in George felt unbearable. Everything was looking his way- they were set in the late evening, in rather large stadiums, and if any fan had binoculars they would have to be positioned just perfectly to find hints of George's bump beneath his guitar. Despite all this, the lead guitarist dreaded any appearances he made to the public. These days he preferred to stay within hotel rooms as much as possible, only coming outside for the occasional meal or for concerts. His slight frame was not so sleek this week, and he swore that he looked like a whale in his Beatle suit, which had much less wrinkles than usual. Ringo, who hounded over George's wellbeing, insisted that he looked just as well as ever. In actuality, George assumed, he had another week or so before he would really start showing.

George had called Dr. Robert a while back, apologizing for lashing out at him when the news first came and looking for information about the precautions he should take while carrying. The doctor had issued him a check up today, and Ringo herded George out of the hotel room to carry out the plan.

"Nobody will notice," Ringo assured George as the couple made their way down the hotel stairs. George, slightly winded, looked at him with an expression that did not convey his agreement. Then, out of nowhere, a young fan swooped up the final flight of stairs that the Beatles were approaching and barreled into them with open arms.

"George Ringo, oh my stars have I dreamt of meeting you up close!" she screamed as Ringo held himself and George from falling backwards over the girl's embrace. George gasped, the air taken out of him from the impact.

"I was at the concert just last night! You must have seen me, I was screaming my mind ou- oof!" The fan was sent stumbling backwards by a push from Ringo. One arm swung protectively around George, another held indignantly in the air, he roared,

"Get your bloody hands off them!" and directed George around the shocked fan, continuing down the stairs. "God how I wish those bloody fans kept away from us with their grubby grabby little hands..." Ringo went into a heated rant as George took his hand and blindly followed him through the hotel's back door and into their private taxi.

"Clinic please," Ringo told the driver as he and George slid into the back passenger seats, "204 West street." The taxi driver nodded and pulled out of the driveway. Silence overcame the vehicle for a few seconds, before Ringo turned to George.

"Are you alright? ...Both of you?" He asked in a hushed tone that was not loud enough to carry to the driver. George was still wide-eyed, trying to regain himself after the shock of getting rammed.

"Y-yeah, I think so." Ringo let out a mighty sigh, unaware that he had been holding his breath in tension. He smiled nervously, reaching out to put a hand on George's belly.

"Well it's a good thing to be heading to the clinic now then. If something happened than the doctor will help us." The drummer seemed to be reassuring himself more than to George, but George appreciated his positivity. He had taken a pretty hard blow from the fan, and while she hadn't impacted into his bump in particular, he thought that it felt a little sore. As the car ride wore on, George began to worry more and more for what damage may have been done. He prayed that his fears were constructs of his mind. Neither of the Beatles were collected enough to notice the taxi driver's curious glances to Ringo's hand resting absentmindedly on George's stomach.

George and Ringo were met by a pacing Doctor Robert in the lobby of the clinic. They were ushered into his examining room at once. It seemed that the medic was fearful of George being noticed by a nurse or another member of the staff; his condition, after all, was a miracle in medical standards.

"Y'alright doc?" George asked as he sat down on the doctor's table with Ringo supportively by his side.

"Yes yes," he replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead, "I'm just worried about keeping your identity secretive... In fact, this may be the last chance we have to give you a full examination before you fly back to England at your tour's end." He fretfully scanned through a clipboard as he explained this to George and Ringo. "We will have to continue your check ups through telephone, and I will organize a classified birthing procedure-"

"Alright doc we get you but let's focus on now," George exclaimed in frustration. The last thing he wanted to think about was giving birth. "We want to know how the baby's doing." Doctor Robert nodded, and George pulled up his shirt to let the doctor have a look at his bump. Carefully, Doctor Robert felt George's curved belly for any signs of misgrowth.

"Mm, well it does appear that your womb is more tender than average. This may be because of the strain the pregnancy puts on your male body." George stiffened.

"What do you mean by that?" Doctor Robert pulled back and jotted a few things down on his clipboard.

"Well, it's not exactly biological for you to carry a child," the doctor explained. "Your body has managed to create its own womb, but it will need all the nutrients that it can get to maintain it." George nodded, and Ringo looked at the doctor fearfully.

"Does that mean there could be complications before the baby is born?" the drummer fretted.

"No, not necessarily- not under my care," the doctor added. "I'll have you leave with some nutrition tablets prescribed, and perhaps a diet plan. I hope that you are open to trying healthier food options, George."

"I'd give my life for the little one growing in me, doctor," he replied. "No food will stop that- I've already sworn off of alcohol and I'm trying to smoke less ciggies."

"That is all very well then." Doctor Robert paused, glancing up from his clipboard. "So, we'd better take an ultrasound to see how the fetus is developing." He set up the ultrasound as before as Ringo watched curiously.

"So that machine will show the baby?" he asked with wide, inquisitive eyes and an excited grin.

"Indeed. And here comes the image... now." The doctor began to lock in his position, and a black and white landscape of blobs populated the screen to the back of the room.