Oh, Lord, please help me get there before it’s too late. This and many similar thoughts swam through the nearly delirious Della Maude’s mind as she struggled through the thick brown bed of fallen leaves. She stumbled many times and would have fallen had it not been for the support and steadying hand of her husband’s niece, Bella.

Her first pangs had hit early that morning. Della tried to think clearly as the seriousness of her situation slowly wedged itself into troubled thoughts as the increasing pain, both figurative and literal, drove itself into her troubled thoughts. Other than her four children and Bella, Della was all alone in the rough log cabin in the dense woods. Her husband Fletch was, as usual, away on one of his very frequent trips from home. It seemed each trip stretched out over longer and longer times. Oh, how she loved and needed him right now. If only he was here, he could go for Aunt Liza. Oh, how she wished one of the kids was old enough to find Granny Tatums’ house. But she couldn’t send a six year old girl out into the wilderness alone.

Della screamed as a sharp pain knifed throughout her entire body. She grabbed tightly onto Bella as she spasmed with the searing pain that seemed to wrench her entire abdomen into one single knot of agony. “Oh, God!” she screamed. “Please, please help me!” As her pain ebbed, sanity returned. “I must not scare Bellie,” she reasoned. Poor child is only six, just like my own oldest. And she’s a city girl on top of that. If I scare her off, she’s liable to get lost in the woods, and Dolphie would never forgive me if somethin’ happened to her oldest. Besides, I need her too bad. I’ll freeze to death if I’m left out here in the cold.”

It was March, 1933. The winter that year seemed to fight particularly hard to keep from yielding its place to the spring as ordered by nature, much like an old king unwilling to give place to his heirs. Spring’s having as hard a time as this child getting born this year. The thin clothing, almost transparent from many washings and the ragged, and holey coat (unholy coat, Della called it on better days) were far from being adequate protection for a struggling, pregnant woman in the spitting snow, struggling against the elements with only a child to lead her.

Oh, God, I pray, help my children, the four at home, this one doing her best to help me, and this one trying so hard to get here. Please, God, don’t let it get here too early, though, not until help comes. She feared the children at home would have trouble with the stove, though her oldest Evelyn was bright and capable, but at six so young to manage the other three children. She had directed Finn, though only four and a half, to gather in enough firewood to keep the stove warm until she could send Papa to bring the children to her after this birth. She had tried as best she could to tell Evelyn all she needed to know to take care of the youngest, Reva, three, and Bobby Henry, one and a half.

Please, Jesus, don’t let the house burn down and kill ‘em. I don’t think I could stand that.

Good, dear, sweet Bellie. Thank God she was here to help me get to Mama’s. Your book says a child shall lead. Bless her, sweet Jesus, and don’t let her be too scared.
“Bellie, child, I don’t think I can make it.”

“You’ve got to make it, Dellie. It’s just about another half mile now.” Was it possible? Had she and Bellie traveled one and a half miles already? Maybe Bellie was right, but more likely not. Bellie was a city girl, and her judging of distance in the country could not be trusted.

“I tell you what, Bella. I’m just gonna to sit on this stump and rest for a little while. You go on to Papa’s. They’ll come—Mama can take care of me while Papa runs up to the house to make sure the other youngun’s are all right.”

“I can’t leave you here in the cold like this. You’ll freeze if you don’t keep moving.”

“Bella—just GO! They can get here quicker than we can get there. You know the way. And Bella? Please, hurry!”

Bella took off at a fast trot, leaving Della alone to her pain and thoughts. “Life here is so hard. I’m not complainin’ Lord, but I get so scared sometimes. What’ll happen to my lit’luns if something happens to me? Sometimes I wish we could all just pack up and move to the city like Fletch’s sisters Dolphie, Vadie, and Florie.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHUUURRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!” A scream tore from Della as yet another pang tore itself through her tired, frail body. The baby was trying so hard to make its way into the world, and Della was trying so hard to keep this from happening until help could arrive. The help had better come soon, for Della didn’t know how much longer she could keep this baby in the safety of her womb . . .

Meanwhile, a determined Bella was making her way quickly through the dense woods. Was that smoke up ahead? Oh, yes, surely, that was Iv and Evie Tatum’s house just coming in sight. She ran more quickly as she got closer to the sizeable, well-kept farmhouse. She jumped onto the porch and banged on the door. “HELLO! HELLO! Help!” she yelled.

The door jerked open. A tall, irritated woman wiping flour from her hands with a bright apron filled the entrance. “What the devil’s the matter with you? Why all this racket?”
Bella was somewhat set back by this imposing woman’s gruff greeting, but necessity gave her courage she would not otherwise have possessed. “We need your help. Something’s wrong with Dellie—you’ve got to come help.”

Faithful Reader—I hope you have enjoyed my little experiment into short fiction. Next week I’ll tell you more about what happens to Della. Until then, please keep safe and well. I leave you with a thought from my world of email:

A dog gave birth to puppies near the road and was cited for littering.