“Sadie?"
“Yes, honey”
“You're singing?”
“Yes.”
“I've never heard you sing before.”
“1 don't do it very often.”
“You should. It's beautiful. What is it?”
“Just a song I remember growing up. Sailors sang it.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“New York.”
“How did you get here?”
“Long story.”
“Will you sing some more?”
“And should a footstep haply stray
Where caution marks the guarded way
Stranger quickly tell, a Friend
The Word good night all's well
All's well, all's well…”
“It's time, Gloria. Now. It's time to push.”
“I don't know what—”
“Your body knows. Now push.”
Gloria brought herself up on her elbows and bore down. Hard. She gritted her teeth and felt her head grow tight with pressure. Her eyes closed tight, and the image of her single burning flame lingered, now blue and dancing.
“Good girl. Good girl.” Sadie's voice faded in and out of Gloria's ears. “I can see the head now. Rest a minute, then we'll push again.”
Clouds cushioned Sadie's words, so Gloria had to ask, “Now? Push?” when Sadie said, “Push! Now!”
“Are we almost done?” Gloria cried.
Bits of conversation were abandoned, at least Gloria thought they were. She spoke without hearing, heard without knowing— just a constant wash of sound as if she'd been plunged into a river that lapped and rolled inside her head.
So Gloria pushed. Again. Again. And again. Each one a little easier than the one before it until—
'"S here!” Sadie's voice sounded triumphant.
Gloria was vaguely aware of precise, deft movements before Sadie spoke again.
“He's here.” Sadie abandoned her post at Gloria's feet and now sat at Gloria's side. She laid a warm, wet, squirming thing on Gloria's breast.
“Er ist perjekt Er ist schon.”
“What?”
“It's a boy, Gloria. A beautiful, healthy boy.”
“A boy?"Gloria brought her arms up to trap the baby next to her skin.
“Yes, and he's just perfect. Just needs a little cleaning up.”
Sadie took the baby from Gloria, who was surprised to find her arms reaching for him. Mae had been instructed to set some water on the stove, and now Sadie dipped a hand in it to test its warmth. Satisfied, she soaked a rag in the warm water and began to wash the baby's skin. The newborn let out a wail of protest.
“He's a real boy all right,” Sadie said. “Already he doesn't like to take baths.”
Gloria watched the bathing of her son. It seemed an impossibly long process—each little arm, each little leg, the protruding little lump on his belly.
“Can I see him again?” she asked.
“Of course you can, silly. He's your son. He is yours. Just let me get him presentable.”
Sadie wrapped a tiny scrap of cloth around the boy's bottom and then swaddled him in a little blanket she and the women had pieced together during the darkest days of winter. The warmth of the blanket stilled his cries, and when Sadie brought him back to Gloria, he was pink and wide-eyed.
Somehow, Gloria knew just how to crook her arm to cradle her son. Somehow he knew to wriggle a tiny hand free to reach for his mother's finger. His eyes were deep and brown; his head covered with long silky blond strands. The day was just dawning, his first day on earth, and already it was impossible to imagine a world without him in it.
Sadie continued to bustle around the room, tidying this and straightening that. She held out a robe that Mae brought during the night.
“Let me take him a minute so you can put this on.”
Reluctantly, Gloria handed her son over to her friend. She managed to turn, let her legs fall over the side of the bed, and shrugged into the warm wrap. She was about to ask Sadie to help with the belted tie when she looked up. Sadie was holding the boy close, closer than Gloria had. Her face was twisted in pain, and tears—the first Gloria had ever seen her shed—fell onto the baby's head.
“Oh, Sadie," Gloria said.
“Mine were beautiful, too. Just so still, so quiet.”
“I'm so sorry Sadie. I wish I could—”
“Well, you can't.” Sadie squared her broad shoulders. “What you need to do now is get yourself cleaned up. The girls will want to come over here and meet the young prince. Let's see if 1 can get a comb through that hair of yours.”
The baby once again nestled in her arms, Gloria allowed Sadie to gather and brush and braid her hair.
“He is blond, like you.”
“Yes,” said Gloria, losing herself in his face.
“So what are you going to call him?”
There was a brief pause in the brush's task, and Gloria turned and looked into the eyes of her friend.
“Did you name your son?'
Sadie's eyes clouded for just a second. “We named him Daniel.”
“That's a beautiful name,” Gloria said. “May I take part of it?”
Sadie said nothing, only nodded her head as her eyes brimmed with tears.
“Danny I'll call him Danny.”
Just then there was a brief knock at the door, and before either woman could utter a “come in!” the door swung open and Jewell, Mae, and Biddy bustled into the room.
“Well, it ain't exactly Madonna and Child,” Jewell said, “but it ain't such a bad-lookin’ picture.”
“Oh, oh, oh!” Mae said over and over, her hands made little fleshy claps.
Biddy stood shyly in the background. “May I see the baby?” she asked in her tiny voice.
“Of course,” Gloria said, reaching her free arm out to the girl. “You can even hold him if you'd like.”
“Him?"Jewell said. “Well, that's a good thing at least. This ain't no life for a girl.”
He is able, He is able,
He is willing, doubt no more;
He is able, He is able,
He is willing, doubt no more.