September - Last Words 6 страница

"How are you holding up?" Dean asked me. He grimaced a bit and we heard Hunter moan upstairs. He inhaled deeply from the side of his teeth. "Is it really intense?"

I nodded, but I made sure to emphasize that it was my own feelings I was coming to grips with right then. "Hunter is doing a good job. Lydia and everyone else upstairs are fantastic support. You can see him, if you want?"I was beginning to realize then that they had been down here with Mikey's kids the entire time. People had been coming around for food, and occasionally saying hi and talking to them, but aside from Vivian who had eaten dinner with them and Walter, and us in there right then, they had been alone this entire time. "I'm sure Hunter wouldn't mind, but I can run up and ask him?"

Callie put her hands up and signaled me to stop. "We're good down here, we promise. Maybe craving some adult conversation, but other than that, we're fine. We're closer to the food this way," she quipped, but was a little uncomfortable.

"Thank you guys for helping out, then, you know..." I said, referencing to the kids. They both merely shrugged, and it was then I noticed how dishevelled they really were. Callie had taken off any jewelry she was wearing and had tossed it into her bag, where I saw the tail ends of Dean's dress shirt tossed as well. His hair was messed up, the gel he used failing to keep it in the same position. Her hair was tied back, but strands were falling out. In spite of the many rounds of coffee they had been making, they looked positively weary. More weary than Hunter, if that was even possible. "How are you two holding up?"

"Good," Callie said, and then exchanged a look with Dean. He put his arm around her, and then gave me a sly smile. "Really good, actually," he added, some of the weariness disappearing. "Thank you for letting us help with the process."

"You're welcome," I said, not too sure of the sincerity behind this emotion.

"Yeah," Callie said, her eyes lighting up again. "All of this has helped tremendously. We both decided we never want kids."

The two of them laughed, and I wasn't quite sure how to feel. They stopped, and Callie reached out her hand towards me again. "We're so, so happy for you, though. For real. I'm always happy when other people have kids, and I really don't mind taking care of Mikey's. Elizabeth has been sitting with me for the past hour and I've been braiding her hair."

I looked over to where Mikey was now entertaining his kids with something else. Elizabeth was running around, as she usually did, but in the blur of her body I did notice the braids that Callie had mentioned.

"She sat still long enough for you to do that?" I said, astonished.

"I know!" Callie said. "It felt great."

"And yet you decided that you don't want kids?" I questioned, and then turned to Dean. "Both of you?"

They nodded, and then Dean began to share how he and Isaac had had a long in-depth discussion about insects. It was Isaac's new project, collecting and sampling what he could find in the backyard, and Dean had done some of his thesis work on the Victorian period, and was able to entertain Isaac with the history behind insect study (entomology) and how most butterflies and other tropical insects were often pinned and framed and kept as art. The two of them had a lot in common, and Isaac seemed mesmerized with the knowledge that Dean possessed. David began to take a liking to Callie when she started to tell him about how words were created (etymology) and how English came from many different languages all mixed into one. She spoke Arabic, as well as the Slovak that she had surprised us with at the party, and the two of them had been drawing characters together. She got up and showed me the piece they had worked on. She had written it in Arabic Egyptian characters, and then told him the English letters to write it in so he could feel involved.

"He made up the story, too. He wanted to talk about the color pink, so we did that," she smiled, and showed me the work. She said it out loud: "Men weghet nazary, ana shayef en el lon el wardy ramz lel hob, al shafaka, we al gamal. El lon al wardy howa el lon al alamy beta'a al hob. Howa hob nafsik wa al akhareen. wa yarbotik ma'a ihsasatik alnafsiya a'an reayat a'an al akhareen wa althat, wa kobool al nafs. al lon al wardy yohadi ehsas al hozn, wa yokhafif al mashakil beyn elakat hobeya wa a'a'ileya."

Then David, hearing his precious story being told, told us what he was talking about in English. He stumbled with a few words and was still mastering the pausing that punctuation required, but he made up for his small errors by motioning with his hands excitedly.

"Good job," I told him seriously, amazed at the aptitude of all the kids involved and the range of activities that the two graduate students were doing to keep these guys busy. When David went back to his father, I turned to Callie and Dean again. I looked at them, still trying to figure it all out.

"You guys are really good with them," I said sincerely. I told them I hoped I could be nearly that interesting with my kids, and they just shrugged.

"It's selfish, really," Dean said. "I was telling them what I wanted to know. We were talking about our projects because we had no idea what else to do."

Callie nodded, and confided that she was now going to be using her translations for part of her thesis. "I'm going to credit David, clearly, but it feels odd, you know? We both liked being here and playing with them, but it was solely for our own joy, our own work. And we're not telling you about the frustration we felt."

Dean nodded. He leaned back on the couch and emphasized how grateful he was to have someone there who could carry on a conversation, a two sided one. They gave me a quick recap about how Callie had already been through two shirts because of Jonah's spit up, and then Elizabeth knocking something over during dinner.

"I mean, we got through it. We're getting through it. We're finding moments to enjoy, but the more and more we think about it, we don't want to do it for as long as parenting would require," Callie explained. "I never really wanted kids before, but part of my mind told me I was just scared I couldn't do it. I was still scared today walking in and thinking I couldn't."

Dean jumped in. I was enjoying the way they told stories. They seemed to share the same narrative between them and could switch off at random intervals and the other would take over flawlessly. Hunter, Gerard, and I all understood one another, but it was on a different level. We didn't use words, we could tell, could feel. Dean jumped in with his anecdote: "I didn't really want kids either, and I had spent time with them. I knew I could handle this, but I was still worried because you know, we're together. We want to live together. When we graduate, we have to think about what's next. I don't date people for the short term and I've scared people away by how serious I can get. I was worried that with this influx of children and babies in our lives that it would trigger something in us and we would follow it. And I knew I didn't want to."

Callie laughed, and kissed Dean on the cheek. They were tangled into one another, talking to me across from them on a chair I had pulled in from the kitchen. I wasn't saying too much, but I needed to hear their story. I wanted to know how different they were from me, and how they just knew they didn't want kids. It sounded like Callie had never really thought about it until now, just like myself. But somehow, when they had done that same visualization of the future that Vivian had suggested that I do, they saw no kids and it was the far better option.

"What did you see instead?" I asked.

"Just us. For now, at least. Dean wants to go to Europe for a while and we know we want to travel. We want to make more art, maybe even teach. We're not too worried about deciding right now. There is a lot out there for us to see. We don't need to have kids, and we probably never will." Callie smiled, and took a deep breath. Apparently they had had a fight today, in the middle of all this chaos, thinking that one another wanted kids and knowing that they couldn't do it. Now that they had had that break, they were closer than ever. "We have no expectations. We just want to live our lives, and I feel so much better about that now because we both know that we can take care of kids. We just don't want to."

She smiled at Dean, and he nodded. He reached out and grabbed my hand, thanking me.

"For what?" I asked.

He shrugged, and started to get a little embarrassed. He spoke to our hands instead of my face. "You helped us break that mold."

"What mold?"

"You know," he said, not wanting to articulate too much. "That a family has to be white picket fence and 2.5 children and all of that shit."

"But we are having a baby..." I trailed off, feeling really vulnerable. Although I knew that my visualization from ages ago had been right, I began to feel that fear of losing art creep into my mind again. The life that they were describing sounded so good. But anytime I pictured myself doing it, I felt lost. I knew this was the right decision for me. I knew it, because of that fear that I felt. Vivian had told me, ages ago now, that there was nothing worth doing that didn't contain a little bit of fear. It meant it was worth it; Gerard had echoed the same type of response, and I had told it to Hunter when he was just about to make his own change. That was his experience, and now, what was mine? Compared to Dean and Callie, I began to lose footing.

"You are, but you're doing it differently," Dean said. "You're creating that family in a new way. You're going to have a lot of people in it, I can tell. And that's awesome. But you showed us that our family can just be the two of us if we wanted it to be. We didn't have to fit into anything we didn't want to."

"Yeah," Callie emphasised. She reached out and grabbed my hand. "Thanks. It means a lot, being part of this process."

I nodded, and I tried to accept their word. They were distant cousins, and I knew that after their thesis was done, they would probably be out of our lives for a while. They would travel, and do all the things that they had planned on doing. I knew that though my heart jumped at opportunities like that I had already done that very thing. I had gone to Paris. I had gone to Paris with Gerard, no less, and I knew that trip meant more than anything combined.

And besides, I told myself. Just because I had already gone, didn't mean I couldn't go again. I could just take Paloma with me. With us, I corrected myself. I would no longer have to board planes alone, worry about getting through customs alone, or generally feel alone in a huge airport. Callie and Dean didn't have to feel alone, either. We both had made our families through one another, and though they were different, they were kept safe within this house.

"I want to see you guys, even after all your trips," I told them, realizing that their travels would be sooner than my own. I missed them already, though I had met them not even a year ago. They nodded and said they would be back. They would always be back.

"Jersey is our home," Callie said.

I nodded, and I couldn't have agreed more.

I wandered back upstairs, shortly thereafter, my hunger and some of my own curiosity having been satisfied. Mikey had declined to come up, for the time being. He wanted to stay with his kids as long as he could, and it looked like Dean and Callie were welcoming the break. They wished me luck for the birth, whenever it was going to happen, because the next time I would see them, I'd probably have her in my arms. The thought sent a chill down my spine, but it was okay. It was a good one, and I was ready to face the birth room again when I went up the stairs. I stood outside of the door, preparing myself, because the professional students had been right. When I entered, the next time I would leave would be with her. I bit my lip and thought about it all. My life was going to change, but I knew it was for the better. Not even better because of Paloma. I knew I could never put that weight on her. It was going to be better because I was allowing it to be. I was finally trying to embrace it. I felt how I did in the middle of our show, with the voices, the atmosphere, the everything all around me. I almost fell into that fugue of sensations again, but I heard a moan come from the other side of the door. I needed to pay attention again.

Hunter was the first thing I saw when I opened the door, and though he was panting and yelling, when we made eye contact, his face changed. He didn't smile; I didn't think he had the strength to worry about smiling at me while he was in the middle of a contraction, but he acknowledged my presence. He seemed happy to see me. He was wailing against Cassandra this time and the young woman leaned back into him. Their faces became very close and intimate, and I saw Noelle approach from the other side. Her short hair was matted to her forehead, too, since she had been supporting Hunter for a while. I walked over to them and took my place. Hunter was in one of the chairs that Lydia had brought with her. She was overseeing the contradictions, but was predominantly busy with her materials to prepare. Things were progressing at a good rate, but we still weren't there yet. I became the other hip support with Noelle, and Cassandra continued to be the person that was telling Hunter things to help him get through.

"Hi," Noelle said to me, quite cheerful even though her face was almost as flushed as Hunter. "We haven't really talked that much before," she stated and we both got jostled from Hunter's movements.

"I don't think we have," I said, feeling awkward and yet excited at the same time. When I entered the room for a second time that day, I started to see it as Callie and Dean saw it. Though we were having kids, and doing that typical act which people did as they got older, we were very different. There was no doubt about that.

"Cassandra tells me you're in the band as well," I continued my conversation with Noelle after we had regained our footing.

"Yes, I'm a clarinet," she stated, and then began to tell me about the practices that they were having and would continue to have because their school was no longer going to be changed. It was a relief, for the two of them, and I could see the joy on her face as she continued to talk about band, the clarinet, and her favorite music. "I'm not as huge of a fan of Wagner as Cassandra is, but she did finally give in and learn Tristan and Isolde for me."

I nodded, remembering, ages ago, as she struggled through that piece. We continued to talk, and she asked me about my past musical interests.

"How did you know I used to play?" I asked, and she shrugged her shoulders. "Cassandra talks about you a lot. She practically adores you."

I looked over at Vivian's daughter, the girl who was supposed to be my older sister, and was surprised to see her face to face with Hunter. They held onto one another's neck, and breathed together. She was so involved with that conversation and task that she didn't hear her girlfriend and I talk about her. It seemed odd that someone as strong as Cassandra, so stuck in her values and knowing for sure what she wanted, would admire someone like me. I felt like I swayed too much, and told that to Noelle.

"I mean, I don't even play guitar anymore."

"Maybe you should," Noelle suggested. "Hang out with us more. You say you sway a lot, but I don't think you do. You're almost as stubborn as Gerard, and almost as much as Cassandra. Almost, though." She smiled. I returned the grin, and then felt myself become jostled again by Hunter's movements.

"I will consider your offer," I told her sincerely. I found myself thinking of playing, especially when I was at the Bear and I had more free time to just explore. I knew I was going to still pursue photography, especially since I had appointments coming up. But music? I still didn't know.

"I'm not very good," I warned Noelle, and she shrugged.

"You'll figure it out," she stated. "Most people do. Besides, I know you'll be pretty busy for a while," she motioned to Hunter, who was just easing out of a contraction. "We'll be around, though. We're not going anywhere."

I had begun to rub Hunter's foot now that he was easing himself down a bit from our hips. I watched as Noelle gently dropped his leg and then went over to Cassandra. They embraced, and then it was just the two of them, and the two of us. I liked Noelle, I decided. She was small and very pointed with her words. I knew she was smart before, when I had met her at the house warming party, but she was continuing to impress me just from her observations and how she spoke to me, even under pressure. She talked like we were equals, and when I saw her brush Cassandra's hair behind her ears and then kiss her after the contraction, I knew they were good together and would probably stay together for quite some time.

I held Hunter's feet in my hands, and kneeled down so I could continue to touch him. He was leaning back on the chair that Lydia had set up, his eyes closed and his head tilted. He was making a low moan in his throat, but he was generally okay. While I had been talking to Noelle, though we were holding his legs open and hips up, I had not looked. I didn't know if that was okay, or if I was allowed. It felt invasive, and I wasn't sure how Hunter felt about me watching as a head emerged from his.... vagina? That didn't seem right anymore. I had been trying to listen as Lydia was talking about procedures to do with birth, but so far she was only hinting at clues and using the right pronouns. She was very good at rearranging her words in her sentences to make them more inclusive and that still applied to Hunter as he went through this. She saw me rubbing his legs, and that he had gone through his contraction, and walked over. She asked Hunter a few questions I couldn't hear, and then appeared near me. I still held his feet, but I became unsure of what to do with myself.

"His contractions are about five minutes apart now. This is going to happen very soon," she told me. She looked down at my hands, and then asked, "Do you want to see him? What it's like?" I swallowed hard, and then looked over to Hunter. His head was still back, his hand running through his hair. He was trying to calm his breathing down, realizing that another contraction was going to come at any moment. I nodded my head, and told Lydia, "If he says it's okay, then yes I would like to."

She nodded, and then took my hands. I thought she was going to switch positions with me and check to see how dilated he was, but instead she pulled me over to Hunter's side. She made me stand behind him and then placed my hands on his shoulders.

"Here," she stated. She stood next to me and waited for my response.

"I don't get it," I said, feeling really foolish. She had been so consistent with me getting my own experience of birth, I thought that now that I had collected what I had, I would get to see something. I realized how exploitive that was, and how I should have known that she wouldn't just open up Hunter's legs and let me look. She was being delicate, careful. This was not my body part - whatever it was called - to gaze at and expect a show. She wanted to show me Hunter's perspective, and well, he was here. I stood gripping his shoulders, and he reached out a hand and touched my fingers.

"Hunter can't see the baby coming out. This is his experience," Lydia reiterated. "All he sees are his own legs, and people watching him. What do you feel, Hunter?"

"Pain," he enunciated. His breathing was getting heavy again, and I knew he was starting to dread the next contraction. Lydia cooed and touched a space on his shoulder, and he began to gather himself a bit more. "I feel a lot of pressure. It just feels like something is crawling out of me, and I'm going to get it stuck. It's just, fuck.-"

He leaned forward, and gripped his stomach. I came with him, and leaned over his chair so I could touch his back. As he breathed and cursed through the contraction, Lydia went down between his legs and looked. I kept my eyes straight, my eyes on Hunter, and I tried to imagine what he was feeling. I touched his neck and began to work my way through his hair, rubbing his head again. He seemed to respond, but then he burst, and started to cry. Not bawling, but just a frustrated wail.

"Oh god Lydia it hurts so much," he said. He bit his lip, and I came to sit at his side. He kept cursing and cursing, and though he let me touch his arm, he seemed distant to the touch. His eyes were closed and he was off in his own world, wandering through this abyss of pain and wondering if he was going to get to the other side. A drop rolled down his cheek, but I had no idea if it was sweat or tears at this point. The heat of the day had cooled off now that it was night, but the room was still hot and Hunter's skin was boiling now.

"Fucking hell, is it over yet?" he kept cursing, and I suddenly felt a hand touching my back. I looked up and saw Gerard, whose eyes were extremely concerned. He touched me, but then, using his cane and the back of Hunter's chair, walked to the other side and carefully got down on his knees. He let out a gasp of pain because of his knees at the same time Hunter did, but he extended his hand. Hunter acknowledged his presence, but was too deep into the contraction. I looked at Lydia, for the first time feeling as if this whole process was beyond us, no matter how powerful Alexa had told us three of us were. We couldn't do this. I wasn't allowed to say we, but I was talking about my own perception of this. I didn't know if I could watch as Hunter struggled through this any longer.

"Is it almost done?" I asked quietly, not trying to take over the experience, but begging Lydia for an answer. She checked between Hunter's legs again and then smiled. Hunter gasped, but then relaxed a bit. The contraction was through, and I kissed his head in relief. Gerard gripped his hand, and he turned towards the older artist, while I focused on Lydia. She was still smiling.

"You feel that pressure, Hunter, because it's about time," she declared. "Ten centimetres now. Next time you feel that pain, I'm going to need you to push."

My heart leapt in my throat. Hunter stared back at Lydia with disbelief. Everyone else in the living area had now come out of the room to hear what had just gone on and were smiling at us. Gerard was quiet, but we exchanged looks and nodded to one another. Our baby was going to be here, and the seconds were counting down.

We had to get everything ready in the bedroom, and fast. Hunter needed to be able to squat, and he also wanted to do this alone. He had been okay having everyone around at first, but now that the baby was going to come out, he only wanted support from Lydia and us. I was relieved that he didn't send us out of the room as well, but part of me was scared. I saw how much pain he had been in during that last contraction, and I didn't know if I could take seeing him go through the actual birth. A person was going to come out of him! It would be a small and very messy person, but still, it was a being coming out of another and I didn't know if I could handle that type of visual pain. I had been able to see what Hunter now looked like after he had said it was okay, Gerard and I both did, and oh god. I didn't know how bodies could do that. It was amazing and incredible, and like Gerard when he had told me the story of Vivian's birth, I cursed my body for not being able to do that. I tried to tell Hunter how amazing he was for it, and he kind of nodded. He was getting anxious and a bit on the delirious side. He had been doing this a long time now. His contractions had technically started the night before, but they had been easy to miss... for a little while. It was getting to be a long time for him, and as much as he was scared, he wanted it to be over with.

"I want to see her," he told me when he was getting ready. I was by his side, helping him up. We were near his bed, and Gerard was sitting on it. He wanted to be close by, but he also needed the bed for support. His cane was making it difficult to participate, so we had moved things around so he could still have bodily contact with us both. Lydia was getting ready and Hunter went on, already in position: "I mean, I've felt her for all this time. It will be interesting, actually seeing her when she's no longer a part of me. When she's actually just herself."

He wanted to say more, but the contraction came back and his first push was going to begin. He moaned and screamed a bit, unaware of what was happening to him this first time, but he was not nearly as distraught as with his last contraction. Perhaps because he felt better now, actually doing something and going forward. All the waiting around was over. I tried to stay present, and to stay actively helping him, but my eyes wandered to Gerard. He was quiet, watching it all, and sometimes leaning up against Hunter. It was hard for him, too. I wanted to know why, to know what he was thinking, but he was cut off from my reach. Quiet. He was still there, lucid and present with us, but something deep inside of him seemed to be coming to the surface.

After the first push was over, the next one came quickly. We changed positions so he could squat with his back against the bed and use that for support. As soon as he moved, Gerard put his arm around him, and the two kissed when the moment was over. He held onto him, so tightly, and Gerard's face was tense with waiting.

"Are you okay?" I asked him at one point, when Hunter was catching his breath and talking to Lydia. He nodded, and said, "I want to see her, too."

We squeezed one another's hands from behind Hunter's back, and then the contractions, and pushing, started up again. This time, Hunter got away from the bed and moved forward. Without thinking, I got down with him and tried to be there as best I could. Hunter was exhausted; I could see that clearly, and now that he was away from the bed, Gerard was too. He had to struggle a bit to get down to on this level again, but when he did, he placed his arm around his shoulder. He whispered in his ear again, and Hunter let out a cry.

"A little bit more Hunter," Lydia declared. She stayed kneeled in front of us, waiting and coaching.

"Fuck," Hunter said. He regained a bit of his stance, and Gerard absorbed his body. He whispered again, and Hunter began to cry. It was just a small gasp, but then a little more as the contraction subsided.

"One more should do it," Lydia informed him, and we all moved together to try and get it right.

"Fuck," Hunter said weakly, and I began to rub his head. I held his head and told him that he was Orion, and Gerard, probably in his ear, was telling him about Hyacinth.

He was breathing heavily, waiting for the next one to come, and then with a sudden gasp, said "ai, ai" before cursing. He pushed again, and again, and what felt like forever and more and more. He bit his lips and then his whole face changed. It was as if he suddenly comprehended all the pain he was in, and then it suddenly was turned into nothing. His body had suddenly shifted, changed, and I felt it move in my arms. I saw Gerard move with it too, and then I noticed Lydia. She knew this was it, her face posed seriously, and didn't make a sound. She leaned forward, and did her job. Hunter let out one final gasp and exertion, and then we heard it.

There was the sound of choking, gurgling, and as Lydia's arms bent down to catch, we heard the cry. It was this huge blast of air from these two tiny lungs and it seemed to fill the entire room and bounce off the walls. I saw the body and the cord, absolutely covered with blood. Blood and other matter stained the sheets that were put down and everything seemed to fall out of Hunter. His body got weak in our arms, and I grabbed him and then brought him up on the bed. We supported him, and then I began to fully comprehend that that tiny body which was covered in guck and had tuffs of dark hair was our daughter and those cries were coming from her.

"She's here," Lydia told us as she cradled the infant in her arms. She was sticking this thing down her throat to get out any of the material that had gotten inside, and her cries were getting progressively louder and clearer. Her face had been cleaned off, and Lydia was still working on doing the rest. Hunter let out a gasp, still in pain from the delivery, and then started to laugh a bit. I kissed his forehead, and I reached around his back to touch Gerard. He was staring at the baby, and the sadness that had been brewing in him had emerged. He was devastatingly happy to see that baby. As she cried, and we quieted down, we began to become aware that there were cheers coming from the other side of the bedroom door. I focused on Lydia as she wrapped up our daughter in a small blanket - green - and then walked over to us with her. Her eyes never left Hunter as she placed Paloma on his chest. He breathed in and out in ragged breaths, and soon his laughter subsided, and turned into sobs. He was now bawling, just as much as his daughter was. They both cried together, and he held onto her so, so tightly.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-14