But that one city block before the intersection was completely empty. There were no other houses between their home and the main street. It was a grassy field on both sides. When she assured Jess that she could find the doctor when the baby was on its way, she didn’t realize she would have to do it blindly.
“I must go or have this baby alone,” Addie said aloud. She reached for her coat that was hanging behind the door and wrapped it around her. She stood there for a good, long while, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not force herself to step beyond her own threshold. The words she had heard in her head two weeks before were still ringing in her ears. You will die on April 24. That was today’s date. Was this some sort of dark prophecy fulfilled? Would she lose her way in the fog and die giving birth? She had no wish to find out. She would not creep out into that dense, white, living thing.
The pains were coming regularly now, and they were so intense that she doubled over with the force of it. Addie closed the door, made her way back to the sofa, and lay down. There was no choice now. It was beyond her control. She knew she would have to get through the birth of this baby completely alone. I can do this. Women have done this for generations. My mother did this. She was alone when I was born. Mama, where are you?
Addie watched the flames dance and tickle the logs and lost herself in their power to mesmerize. If only Jess were here. He would find the doctor. He would bring him to the house. He would make sure she wasn’t alone when the baby came. Addie had heard stories, whispered among the women of Great Bay, of children who died trying to come into the world feet first, and their poor mothers, who died trying to push them free. Would such a thing happen to her? Calm down. I can do this. I am strong. I’ll get through this.
Despite the calming thoughts she kept replaying in her mind, Addie knew she was at the mercy of nature, at the mercy of her own body. She could not stop this baby from coming. She could not stop these pains long enough for the fog to lift. She could not summon the doctor with the sheer force of her will. Her life, and her baby’s life, were now out of her hands.
The pain became so intense that Addie felt herself begin to hover above her own body. As she lay on her back, she took note of her belly, her legs, and her arms, but it was in a detached sort of way, as though she was watching it all occur from elsewhere. The only thing that was real was the pain, the incredible flood of intensity that began in her belly and radiated out into every cell of her body; every inch of her being was pulsing and vibrating with a pain so enormous that it engulfed the whole world.
She felt a coolness between her legs. Water, a flood of it. Somewhere deep inside, beneath all that pain, Addie’s mind was screaming that the baby was coming, it was very near. But Addie didn’t hear it. She wasn’t a thinking being at that moment, she was only the pain. Pain was all there was. It was as though Addie herself were an infant, she was the baby being born, unable to think or reason or articulate her wants, needs, and desires. She was simply a mass of pain that existed for one thing—relief. An end to this suffering.
A song, then, an ancient, familiar song, calling her name, beckoning her near.
Addie summoned all her strength, rose from the sofa, and stumbled toward the kitchen door. Relief. She opened the door. A warm hand, comforting me. A soothing embrace. Relief. An end to the pain. I’m coming. Water.
In the firm grasp of childbirth, Addie had no way of knowing that three people were, at that very moment, on the way toward her house. One was worried about her, so near her due date, with fog shrouding the city. One was drawn there by something unknown. The third was coming to kill her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Kate stumbled down a foggy path toward the lake, doubled over in pain. Childbirth. This is what it must feel like. She could not stand upright, the pain was so great. Kate turned and looked up the hill behind her—she could make out a house hovering there, in the fog. Addie’s house. She could see no other houses anywhere in the distance. She was alone, in the fog, at the water’s edge.
Kate watched herself dunk her feet in the water, which she expected to be freezing cold. She braced for the chill but didn’t feel it. To Kate, it felt like scented, oiled bath water, warm, almost velvety to the touch. It felt so wonderful, in contrast to the pain that was raging through her body, that Kate wanted nothing more than to submerge herself in that comforting, soothing bath and float away.
She felt it then, a sharp pain in her back, then another, then another. Addie turned to look into the face of her murderer. This should hurt more than it does were the first words that went through Kate’s mind when she realized what had occurred. Addie had been stabbed. Kate was witnessing the last moments of Addie’s life.
No, not the baby. Save the baby. I’ve got to save the baby.
She slumped into the water and felt a delicate warmth, like feathers massaging her legs. Somewhere, outside of herself now, she felt the baby was coming, but Kate didn’t care, she only knew that she needed to lie back. She turned and stretched out onto the surface of the water, as though she were reclining onto a bed. Its warmth overtook her and held her, suspended, on the surface of the lake. This is what it feels like to die. This really isn’t so bad.
Kate felt her eyelids, heavy, so heavy, closing, then opening again with every twinge of pain. She wasn’t thinking clearly, but she was present enough to know that Addie was vacillating between consciousness and sleep, or what seemed to be sleep. The baby is coming.
Kate was roused, for a moment, from this vague stupor when she realized that Addie was wearing the white, billowing gown that Kate had seen before, in her dreams, and on the beach that horrible day. She’s dying! She’ll die if I don’t do something! Kate tried to wake Addie up, screaming inside of her head, Wake up! Wake up! Your baby is coming! You’re both going to die if you don’t get up! But the heaviness of her eyelids was too great, the warmth and comfort of the water was too soothing, the soft motion of her body undulating up and down on the waves was too calming. Kate gave in and was immersed in darkness.
Then, her eyes opened again. She was cold and shivering. She was out of the water now, on the beach. I want to go back in the water. Take me back to the water. Kate wanted very much to look around but found that her head did not move. Her eyes, she noticed, were barely open. She was looking through slits. She felt, too, that she was empty. The punishing pain that was ever present had ceased. What’s happening? Where is the baby? Then, a voice. Jess? Is that you?
“I can’t imagine what you’re doing here on the lakeshore, Addie.” It was not a man’s voice.
What’s the matter? Why isn’t she helping me? Kate tried to look at who was speaking, but could only see the hemline of a skirt. She still could not move her head. Kate tried with all her might to open her eyes but couldn’t. Where is the baby? What’s happened to the baby? Why aren’t you helping me?
“You were lucky that I came to see you, to introduce you to my beautiful baby,” said the voice, singsongy now, like that of a child. “Your baby might have floated away on the tides if I hadn’t been here. Come, let’s get you up.”
Kate listened, and heard a soft crying, far in the distance. Her baby. Addie’s baby. It was alive, then. Kate felt herself slipping down again, eyelids heavy.