Читать книгу The Book of Harlan - Bernice L. McFadden - Страница 17

Chapter 10

The baby arrived on Christmas Eve, right there on the parlor floor between the piano and the Christmas tree.

Emma was hanging an ornament when she was struck with the first knee-shaking pain. Setting the ornament on the arm of the sofa, she cautiously spun around, intent on moving into the kitchen where her mother was kneading dough for bread. The second pain sliced across her lower back, and her head went light. She opened her mouth to scream, but found she couldn’t raise her voice above a whisper.

Her water broke, gushing fluid everywhere. Surprised, Emma careened backward into the mantle and crumpled to the ground, taking the Christmas stockings down with her. By the time Louisa heard the commotion, Harlan’s head was crowning.

“Easy now, easy, Emma,” Louisa cautioned, squeezing her daughter’s trembling hand.

Emma pushed twice and the baby boy slid out as easily as jam from a jar. Louisa had to pop his buttocks three times before he made a sound. And when he finally did open his mouth, he yawned.

Louisa reeled back with astonishment. “Well, ain’t he a grand piece of work!” she cried. “Been here a hot minute and already bored!”

They named him Harlan, after Sam’s deceased father.

Copper-colored with a mane of slick black hair, Harlan kept his eyes closed for two whole months—as if he couldn’t care less about what the world had to offer. Considering how his life would turn out, perhaps Harlan knew, even in infancy, just what the universe had in store for him.

“Is there something wrong with my baby?” Emma asked the doctor.

“No, he’s perfectly healthy, just lazy.”