فصل 100

joana

Gripped with pain and terror, Emilia spoke in fragmented German and Polish.

“No August. Frau Kleist. Prettier.”

She kept repeating “Frau Kleist, Frau Kleist.” It made no sense.

Things were moving fast. I wanted to run for Dr. Richter but couldn’t leave Emilia. She was completely overcome with fear, consumed by pain.

The sailor from the port peered around the door.

“Alfred!”

“Oh, pardon me, Fr?ulein. I thought you might—” He stopped when he saw Emilia.

“Alfred! Run to the soldiers’ ward. Get Dr. Richter. Quickly!”

Emilia gripped the edges of the cot. She screamed, her body vibrating, eyes bulging.

The sailor paled and looked rubbery.

“Alfred! Shore up! Go get Dr. Richter.”

He turned, as if in a trance, holding the door frame and talking to himself. And then he was gone.

“Come, Emilia, breathe with me,” I told her. We locked eyes, breathing rhythmically.

Emilia stopped, her mouth pulled with pain. She screamed, words and blood pouring from her lips. “Liar. Liar. Help me, Mama!”

I had never seen such terror. Where was Dr. Richter?

I couldn’t step away for the chloroform. Blood dripped from Emilia’s lip. Her face was slick with sweat. She cried out again, louder, excruciating.

“MAMA!”

The baby’s head suddenly appeared.

“Push!” I told her. What was the word for push in Polish? I tried to use expressions and gestures. She understood.

She pushed and screamed.

“Don’t stop! Push!”

She bore down, her clenched fists shaking, the pain so intense it strangled her screams.

The tiny child met my hands.

“Yes, yes!” I told her.

I looked down. A perfect little bird had fluttered into my arms.

Emilia gasped for breath, then sobbed and covered her face. “Liar. Help. Mama.”

“It’s over,” I told her. “It’s all over. You have a baby girl, Emilia. A beautiful baby girl.”