Scott’s Blog

Under the gaslight street posts Ms. Terri ran clutching her newborn baby to her chest.  Though it has been just minutes since she fled her home exhaustion began to set in.  Her feet bled through the worn rags that covered them leaving a rust colored trail behind her on the cobblestone street, but she couldn’t stop.  No, not even for a moment, there was no time to waste.  Ms. Terri stole a quick glance behind her.  Looking past the church, it’s doors and windows bolted shut till early morning, all the way back to the city centerwhere she saw them.  In their suits and top hats the two men who had ejected Ms. Terri from her home, rounded the corner and were gaining ground.

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Ona Clemmons grabbed all the blankets and cloths she could find in the tiny house.  These were all dirty and some still wet from the rain that leaked through the roof the previous day.   She pursed her lips and muttered disapproval to herself but there was nothing else in the house she could use.  She scanned the room one last time in hopes that she missed anything that was clean enough to help her stop the bleeding.  There was nothing.  ‘Maybe the neighbors have some clean towels,’ she began but a wailing scream broke her train of thought.  Mrs. Clemmons shuddered deeply for a moment and then started back to the bedroom

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A loose stone slid out from under Ms. Terri’s pace and she slowed for a moment just to stop from falling to the ground.  She could hear the foot steps of her pursuers behind her own and knew they were not far behind.  One more look towards the city center confirmed the men’s distance had lessened.  She could see the red round face of Mr. H. C. Calhoun and the long twisted grimmace of the cemetery’s grounds keeper Mr. Martin Vandemar, both of their eyes fixed firmly on her.  It was no matter, only a few more yards ahead of Ms. Terri was the city gate and the path that would lead to the river.  There she knew she would find safety and salvation.
“We are almost there, my darling,” She said taking a look down at the small child sleeping pressed against her chest, “almost at the riv…” but before she could finish  Ms.  Terri barrelled head first into a black robed figure who stepped out from the shadows where he’d been hiding.
“No,” she cried, “not you!”
“Ms. Terri,” the priest said smiling down on the woman with desperate hungry intent in his eyes, “I’m so glad I caught you before you left town.  We have so much to discuss.”

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Ona had been a midwife for the city for the last 23 years and had weathered some of the worst pregnancies of the times, but not a single one had ever come close to this.  Eight and quarter hours of tortuous labor, so much blood had been lost it would be a miracle if she could save just one life tonight let alone two.
Mrs. Clemmons packed the wet blankets she gathered beneath her patient, “It’s time, I need you to push.  Push as hard as you can!”
Ona’s patient belted out screams of pure agony as she strained every muscle in her body.  The bite stick in her mouth snapped in half in her tensed jaw and sweat beaded down her face.  She bore down as hard as she possibly could and then harder.  Her body shook from head to toe and she cried out in pain so loud until finally all her stregnth was gone.  Then, she heard it.  The faintest sound of her baby crying.
Ona Clemmons smiled brining the new born child up to her mother’s loving face.  “Ms. Terri,” Ona said, “your son.”

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Mr. Calhoun’s cane swung swiftly into Ms. Terri rendering her prone on the ground.  Tears streamed down her cheeks as readily as sweat leaked from her aching skin. “Father,” he said, “It appears we have found your wayward sheep.  Perhaps next time you will do a better job of keeping her penned up. Here, i’ll even lend you a hand.” He swung his cane this time allowing it to fall on Ms. Terri’s knee, the bone shattered under the oaken wood.  She tried to scream but could not as she gasped to reclaim the air that had been knocked from her lungs.
“There isn’t going to be a next time,” the priest hissed, “not since I have the boy.”  With his foot the priest kicked Ms. Terri onto her back and pulled the child from her hands.  She fought with all her might but her strength was gone.
“Very well then,” Mr. Calhoun mused, ” I guess we must find some way to dispose of her.”
A thin smile crawled across Mr. Vandemar’s oily face,  “That will be my pleasure.” he wrapped his cold hand around Ms. Terri’s ankle and began to tow her towards the graveyard, “my pleasure indeed.”