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Rigo considered Gloria and Tanna one more rescue in a long line of them he’d be doing for another couple of hours. The 9-1-1 switchboard was overrun tonight with people who thought they’d throw bravado in the face of Hurricane Hope, then found her might thrown right back at them with wind-whipped fury. He got the two ladies dropped off safely at Tía Inez’s house and then got right back in his truck and out on the streets to do what he could.
He didn’t like that there were still people on the island, but there was nothing he could do about it. When they had to shut down the causeway early due to the increasingly dangerous winds, everyone left on the island was staying, it was just a matter of where. Anyone who called for a rescue was being taken to Provident High School. The water in the streets was now over Rigo’s knees and, at six foot two, he estimated that it was getting close to three feet deep where he was. He knew it was deeper in many areas and most of the rescues were being done by boat.
He didn’t know how much longer they’d be able to rescue stranded citizens. At some point, those in charge would call off the rescues because they would start to endanger those conducting them. But until that call was made, his beach patrol team was on the front line. As seasoned water rescue professionals, they were deferred to by even the high-ranking members of the police and sheriff’s departments at times like these.
Still, eight people couldn’t save the world.
But they’d keep trying until they were told to stop.
Conditions around the island were deteriorating rapidly. As he tried to decide where to head next, he looked in the distance to the lights on inside the Grand Provident Hotel, where city officials had set up their command center. As he watched, the lights flickered, blinked twice, then all went out, taking the streetlights and the rest of the electricity with them.
His radio popped once more with static. The command center would be running on generator power now, and like the radio’s reception, it was spotty. Rigo could barely make out the words. “Attention all units. The power grid is now down.” The whole island was now in darkness, just awaiting the wrath of Hope. “You are mandated to take shelter.”
He’d been working the La Missión neighborhood, checking every home in the community where he’d grown up for people staying behind and urging them to move to the shelter. Gloria and Inez were alone in a sea of water with a very pregnant woman in a house four blocks behind him.
The command center, where he was expected to be as the storm blew in, was about twelve blocks ahead.
In his younger days, Rigo knew his reputation had been something of a hothead. And those hasty decisions had impacted Gloria’s life not once, but twice. Once when they were eighteen and he left her behind with a broken heart. And again, two years ago, when her life was shattered and he didn’t have the courage to face her. He’d come back to help take care of his aunt and to do the right thing, now that he’d cleaned up and gotten his life on the right track.
Gloria didn’t know he’d changed, and no words he could say would convince her. Only actions and time could make up for the hurt he’d caused. He wasn’t going to leave Gloria to face one more uncertain night by herself.
Rigo knew he’d come back to follow the rules, not to hide anymore.
“This is Vasquez. I can’t make it back to the hotel.”
“10-4, Vasquez. Can you get to the shelter at the high school?” The voice on the radio went in and out as the weather conditions cut the ties of electronic contact.
“No. I’ll take shelter at my aunt’s house in La Misión neighborhood. I’m not far from there.”
“10-4. God keep you safe, Vasquez. Get here if you can.”
“Amen.” Rigo agreed out loud into the night and hoped that God could hear him over the howl and thrash all around.
The radio’s crackle went silent and Rigo knew this was it. The fury of nature had been building to an extreme all day, but it was now about to be unleashed in a way that Port Provident hadn’t seen since 1910.
Without streetlights, it was impossible to judge the depth or speed of the water. Rigo hadn’t been lying when he said he couldn’t make it to the Grand Provident. Conditions had been precarious for hours, but now it was definitely not safe to drive. He pulled his truck into what was left of the closest driveway, climbed into the truck bed, and untied the small boat he carried. A flat-bottomed jon boat, it was convenient for search and rescue because the design meant he could maneuver easily in shallow water. He generally carried it everywhere in the bed of his work truck. He’d hauled it out a few times already tonight when he couldn’t reach someone begging for help. Water and waves slapped at him from the sky and the land and he struggled with the plastic boat in the whipping wind.
With a growl, he righted the boat on the surface of the water which now stood more than bottom-of-tailgate deep. He got himself inside, powered up the small trolling motor and set off in the direction of Tía Inez’s house.
Alone on the waterlogged streets, he had everything to lose.
And everything to prove.
“Gloria?” Tanna’s voice sounded shrill with panic. “The contractions. They’re stronger.” Ever since Tanna’s water had broken, all of the telltale physical signs had followed quickly one after another. This baby was coming and wasn’t waiting for a sunny day.
And then there were the other signs.
The full moon. The drop in barometric pressure. Many people wrote off babies being born at a full moon and other weather-related times as nonsense. But Gloria had seen it too often for the old wives’ tale to be nothing but coincidence. If a mere lunar phase could push the right buttons to send a mama into labor, what would the conditions that brought on a hurricane do?
Tonight, Gloria and Tanna were going to face the greatest storm Port Provident had seen in almost a century and they were going to face the greatest force Tanna had ever known as she brought her baby into this crazy, rain-soaked world.
And they would do it with no power, no modern conveniences and no medical backup.
It would take every ounce of skill and training Gloria had. She knew this test would actually take more than that. It would take every word of prayer Gloria knew to utter. Except she didn’t know how to utter many anymore. Since the night she’d lost both Felipe and Mateo, she’d become convinced God had better things to do than to work in her life the way He used to. He’d taken everything and she hadn’t known what to say back to Him in reply.
They were pretty far apart these days, Gloria and God.
And now there stood the wrath and fury of the storm in the gap. There was no bridge that could cross that. She was alone with one pregnant woman and one elderly aunt who went to bed an hour ago saying she “always liked sleeping to the sound of the rain.”
Crazy lady.
Of course, Gloria wondered what was more crazy: Inez’s idea of ideal sleeping weather or Gloria’s idea that she could deliver this baby under these circumstances.
She felt pretty sure the answer was not Inez.
There must have been a lot of cries being lifted from the citizens of Port Provident tonight. Gloria didn’t think it mattered much, but the icy chill in the pit of her stomach and the howl of the wind outside came together and nudged her to add one more request from Port Provident to Heaven.
“Querido Dios, dear God, give us the strength we need to get through tonight.” She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Please.”
She didn’t have anything more to add. Talking to God for basically the first time in two years was much like placing that call to Rigo earlier. Awkward. And just a reminder of the bad times, when she was all but abandoned by someone she thought would never leave her.
“I’m coming, Tanna. I’ll check you again. You may be getting closer to transition.” Gloria tried to master the fear inside. First-time labor brought enough uncertainty to a mama. Tanna at least deserved a midwife who sounded confident, even if the midwife was scared to death on the inside of the conditions all around.
Gloria looked over the railing and down the stairs. On the level below, the water had risen to more than a foot deep. Gloria could no longer see the baseboards, and the electrical outlets would be next to go incognito. Since the turn-of-the-century home stood on pilings that were about six feet high, plus the slope of the lawn down to the street, Gloria estimated the water was easily more than ten feet outside.
She rummaged through the boxes that had been stowed earlier at the open area at the top of the stairs, both for easy access and the hope they’d remain high and dry. Inez had earlier packed a box with food and some supplies like batteries and candles, and there was a smaller box that Inez said Rigo had packed with things like a hammer and a small plastic sheet that could be used like a tarp. Shortly after arriving at the house, Gloria pulled together another box with sheets, blankets, a coil of twine, scissors and some bottled water, just in case she needed to use it. And she’d also placed her box of midwifery supplies alongside these critical supplies.
As she grabbed a sheet and a new pair of disposable gloves, something crashed into the front door with a thud.
Her breath came short. Surely someone wasn’t trying to break in on a night like this. Was it debris? The thud hit again and rattled the doorknob, then the front door swung partway open. The sky behind it glowed strangely red and a familiar figure stood silhouetted in the frame, water lapping almost to his knees.
“Rigo. You got my message?” She’d never been more thankful to see him. Not when she was madly in love with him as a teenager. Not even when he showed up at the seedy apartment complex to help get Tanna to safety. The world seemed to be collapsing all around her, but at least she wouldn’t be alone as Tanna’s labor progressed. His presence was better than nothing.
Maybe a lot better than nothing. But she didn’t want to admit that quite yet, not even to herself.
“The power’s out completely now. I couldn’t make it up to the command center at the Grand Provident. The streets are like rivers. I barely made it back here. Is Tanna okay?”
At that moment, Tanna let out a low moan. The guttural noise told Gloria’s trained ears that Tanna was moving toward the next phase of labor, the one where instinct and the body took over and left the thinking, controlling mind behind.
“Yes, she’s been having steady contractions since we got settled and things seem to be picking up. I was just gathering what I needed to check her again.”
Gloria needed to get to Tanna but stood rooted, drinking in the sight of Rigo’s silhouette, dark with untold layers of rain, framed by crimson in the sky behind.
“Rigo?”
“Yes?”
“Why is the sky red? Is that normal?”
“It is if a marina is on fire.” He kicked the door shut with his foot and began to cross the room toward the kitchen as he answered. “Although I’ve been told the sky color in hurricanes can range from midnight blue to teal and even shades like pink.”
“The marina is on fire?”
“Yes. The whole thing. The fire department can’t get to it, so they’re just letting it burn. It will be a complete loss.”
She rolled her eyes in disbelief. More destruction, in ways she never imagined. “Gracie’s sister-in-law has a really nice boat down there. Jake used to take us out on it sometimes.”
“I’m sorry, Gloria. I’m afraid that boat is gone. They’re not expecting anything to be left. One of my guys talked to an assistant fire chief about an hour and a half ago and told me. I’m coming up. Is there anything you need?”
She needed to stop thinking about the way looking at his silhouette in the fire glow a few minutes ago made something else inside of her spark. She’d taken notice of him then, and she had to remind herself that at age eighteen, she’d promised herself she was never going to take notice of him again.
She shook her head, not trusting herself to answer with words.
As Rigo waded across the entry and placed his shoe on the first soaked stair, a crackle sounded behind her. She turned around to see a blue glow spit out of the holes in four of the wall outlets. A loud pop accompanied the flash, then water shot from the outlets like the jet on a Jacuzzi tub.
“Rigo! The house!” Gloria screamed, terrified she was about to find herself in the same situation as the doomed marina.
“Gloria. I need your help down here. Now.” In that instant, Rigo had transformed from civilian to peace officer. There was no questioning or disobeying the tone in his voice. “It’s the pressure. It’s building up in the walls. Those holes are the best way for the water to relieve the pressure.”
“Gloria? Gloria? What’s going on?” Tanna shouted from the bedroom.
“It’s just the water, Tanna.” Gloria couldn’t believe that she had the ability to sound calm. Her throat was full of fear and her veins coursed with adrenaline. “Rigo’s here. We’re coming. Just move into whatever position makes you the most comfortable.”
Gloria skittishly made her way down the stairs, afraid of the blue of the outlet sparks and the red of the marina fire and the ice in her heart and her stomach and the tips of her fingers.
Rigo grabbed Gloria’s hand as she made it to the bottom of the stairs. Even though he was leading her into who knows what kind of chaos, she felt better just having his hand wrapped around hers. She could feel a callus at the base of his ring finger and vaguely wondered what had caused it. It hadn’t been there before.
Time had changed them all. In big ways. And small ones.
“Where are we going?”
“My boat. I tied it up on the porch. But I need to get it inside.”
She cocked her head in disbelief. “You want a boat inside the house? You’re crazy.”
He turned and looked straight at her. “Maybe. But that boat may be all we have in a few hours—I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I have a pretty good idea, though, and I can’t afford to lose the boat. It’s small enough that it fits in the bed of my truck and light enough that I can maneuver it myself. If we can get it on its side, it will go through the door. The trolling motor just clamps on. I can unscrew it. I just need you to hold the door and help me guide it through.”
Water pushed in waves, as the Gulf of Mexico had literally come to their door. It was rising more quickly now. Hurricane Hope was being anything but ladylike. She was making her force known.
Rigo untied the rope mooring the small craft to the banister near what had been the front steps. He guided the boat to the door and braced it against the frame, then turned himself, grabbed the edge and heaved the boat onto its side, using the frame of the door for counter leverage.
Gloria had never seen so much strength used at one time. He was probably right that he could easily move the boat to where he needed on an average day. But in these conditions with the water rising and the wind whipping, the strength he needed to pull off the feat she just witnessed had to be nothing short of superhuman.
Was that God answering her earlier prayer for strength for them all tonight?
Had He really heard her over the howls of the wind and the cries all across the town? Was He really there?
Gloria ran up the stairs as fast as she could as Rigo stayed behind to tie the boat to the banister and move everything back from the small entryway so the vessel wouldn’t flop into it and cause damage. Gloria wasn’t sure it mattered. Everything on the first floor of Tía Inez’s house was going to be a total loss anyway. At the rate Hurricane Hope was growing, Gloria wondered if even the ceiling down there would be safe.
She wondered if any of them would be safe. Or would this be the time the house that made it through the Great Storm of 1910 met its match?
Entering the bedroom, Gloria found Tanna lying on the bed, propped up with some pillows. Several candles had been lit and set on various surfaces. The room had a warm glow that brought Gloria’s blood pressure down several notches. It wasn’t the birthing center, by a long stretch, but as long as there were no complications, everything should work out. She didn’t need to let the panic and what-ifs take over. That wasn’t doing anyone any good.
Inez had apparently woken up. She sat next to the laboring mother, holding her hand.
“Just breathe, niña, breathe.” The calm in the older woman’s voice contrasted sharply with the chaos Gloria had just witnessed below and could still hear from outside.
Inez looked up at Gloria and smiled. “It’s okay. I’ve done this six times before.”
Rigo’s voice came from the doorway. “Six times? I thought you only had five kids, Tía.”
She smiled. “Five kids. Six hurricanes, nephew.” Stroking Tanna’s hand rhythmically, she continued. “Birth and hurricanes are a lot alike. They’re intense and sometimes unpredictable. But they only last for a few hours, and after it’s over, the sun comes out again.”
Tanna moaned and rolled a bit from side to side.
“But you’re so calm, Inez. You even took a nap! I couldn’t sleep if my life depended upon it.” Gloria wished she could have looked out a window, but everything was boarded up.
“Go ahead. Hold my hand. It’s okay.” Inez rubbed Tanna’s back while the young woman grunted through a contraction, a sheen of perspiration bubbling up just below the line of thick, dark hair at the top of her forehead. “Well, it’s what Jesus did. It’s never a bad thing to follow his example.”
“‘Put your hand in the hand of the man who stilled the waters,’ hmm, Tía?” Rigo sang the line of the children’s song but stayed put in the doorway, clearly wanting to be near the light and the company, without coming too close to the action.
“Rodrigo Vasquez.” Inez’s calm voice was replaced with a snap of reprimand for her nephew’s mocking tone. “One of these days, you’ll learn. Every Sunday morning I go to church, and there’s a reason why. I didn’t make it to this age all on my own. And neither will you.”
Gloria would never admit to Rigo’s aunt—or her own family, for that matter—but lately, she found herself more aligned with Rigo’s doubt than the confident faith she saw mirrored around her. She’d known Inez for years. The older woman, as far as Gloria could tell, lived a fairly uneventful life. She always saw her at church and on the occasional trip to the grocery store, and she knew that Inez spent a lot of time with the ladies of the women’s Bible study group Gloria’s own mother attended. A lot of tamale making, knitting and chatting over slices of flan.
If she lived Inez’s life, it would probably bore her to sleep. Even in the midst of a hurricane.
But thankfully, a midwife’s life was far from dull. Babies were never predictable about when they were going to be born. Sometimes they decided to stay and bake for days after their due dates. Sometimes they decided to come in the middle of the night. Sometimes they clearly all decided to deprive their midwife of rest and come one right after the other.
And sometimes, they decided to come in the middle of a natural disaster.
“Rigo, would you mind stepping out for a minute? I need to check Tanna. I think we’re getting close.”
She turned to her patient. “Unless there’s an emergency, Tanna, I’m going to follow your lead. You do what’s most comfortable for you and I’ll let nature take its course.” As she bent over and did a quick check of Tanna’s progress, Gloria laughed a little.
“Hmm?” Tanna shifted her weight as Gloria stepped back from the bed.
“I was just thinking,” Gloria said. “I’m perfectly comfortable letting Mother Nature take her course with your birth, but to the core of my being, I wish she’d quit taking her course with this storm outside. I just want it to be over. The good news is you’ve progressed more quickly than I expected you to, so Mother Nature will be through with you shortly, in all likelihood. You can push whenever you feel ready, Tanna. I won’t hold you back.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Tanna breathed low and slow through a contraction, then looked up when it passed. “I guess I don’t get my water birth after all?”
Tanna had wanted to use the deep water birth tub at the birthing center since her first appointment. “I’m afraid not in that way. There’s plenty of water outside and downstairs, but Inez filled the bathtub with water earlier today for drinking and emergencies.”
“Peace.” Inez wiped Tanna’s head with a wet washcloth. “Breathe deeply and think of peace.”
The next contraction started. Tanna bore down, gripping Inez’s bony hand, but Rigo’s aunt never flinched. Gloria was amazed at her strength and her demeanor. She wondered if she could bring Inez to attend all her births.
Tanna made instinctive reaching motions with her hand. The birthing waves were taking over, bringing her closer to motherhood.
Rigo stood just outside the doorway, and Gloria called to him. “Rigo. Grab her hand. She needs something to push against.”
The man, who’d stared down criminals in the line of fire and who’d already saved grown adults and children alike from the clutches of near-drowning tonight, hesitated. In addition to being a certified peace officer, she knew he had to be a certified EMT for his job. Surely he’d had some training for this. Gloria looked up from where she’d been focusing, monitoring the baby’s progress. “Go on. She needs you. Just stand back by her head. You’re not going to see anything from there.”
Gloria hastily threw a towel over Tanna’s knees and belly to preserve her modesty. Rigo stood by the headboard and looked toward the doorway, but reached out his hand and provided more than enough support to give Tanna the leverage she needed.
She’d prayed for strength for everyone earlier tonight, and this was the second time she was seeing it in action. Tanna’s focus amazed Gloria, even as the world ran out of control and the wind battered the house, causing it to sway gently on the pilings. She’d attended more than a thousand births in her career, and thought she’d worked in every kind of condition possible—highly advanced labor-and-delivery suites, standing by in Caesarian sections, working the past two years at an out-of-hospital birthing center at the edge of Provident Medical Center’s footprint, and she’d even been present for a few planned home births.
But until today, she’d never supervised a birth in a candlelit room with not even the most basic of equipment or running water. Tanna, the young nineteen-year-old who, nine months ago, Gloria initially judged as a good candidate to ask mid-delivery for a transfer to a hospital to get an epidural, was showing strength through adversity tonight.
With one last forceful push and a punctuating explosion of breath, another refugee from the hurricane’s fury shot into the world. Gloria picked up another towel from her box of supplies with one hand as she held the little squealing baby with the other.
It was a triumphant moment, made all the more incredible not just because of the amazing nature of birth, but because of how amazing it was to have this birth in the middle of this particular storm.
The hurricane may have been named Hope, but as Gloria lifted the mewling baby and handed it to the euphoric, exhausted mother on the bed, she knew she was holding hope in her arms.
“Congratulations, Tanna. It’s a boy! And a strong one, too. Do you want to cut the cord?”
Tanna shook her head, unable to tear her gaze from the tiny stranger that she already knew so well. “No. I couldn’t have done this without you and Rigo. I’d be alone in that awful apartment if you hadn’t come to check on me, and who knows what would have happened if Rigo wasn’t there to protect us.”
Gloria met Rigo’s eyes and felt something chip at the heavy cement that had poured in her heart hours before when he walked back into her life. Tanna saw Rigo as a hero. And maybe she was right.
She handed Rigo the scissors she’d found in a downstairs drawer upon their arrival. She’d sanitized them in some boiling water before they’d lost all the utilities. They were just common household scissors, but they’d have to do. She had one plastic cord clamp in her box of tools but couldn’t find another at the bottom of the box with the dim half-light. Instead, she tied a length of twine tightly, using it as a makeshift clamp. “Do you want to do the honors?”
It felt so strange to be standing over a baby, sharing in a cord-cutting ceremony with Rigo. All those foolish teenage dreams and plans she’d once had for the future popped in her mind like kernels of corn.
“Sure. Wow.” Rigo took the scissors, and with one steady press, snipped the baby’s last physical tie with Tanna. Rigo stared at the little infant as though he was seeing one for the first time. “I’ve never done that before.”
“Not even with your paramedic training?” Gloria took the baby and towel-dried him. His hair stuck up in ten different directions. She laid him on the bed and began folding an oversize washcloth around the baby’s legs and safety-pinning it shut, in an old-school fashion. Without diapers, it was all she found on hand earlier. It would have to do for now.
“No. I don’t think I’ve really done much past treating things like puncture wounds and doing CPR and chest compressions. That’s most of what you see on the street and on the beach. Not a lot of babies being born in the sand dunes.”
He intently watched every move Gloria made. “What are you doing with that? That’s my sock.”
His curiosity was so intense it made Gloria chuckle, a welcome feeling. This day needed some comic relief. It was now almost one in the morning. Today had been too long and too life-changing.
“I don’t have a hat. An old tube sock seemed like the next best thing to keep his head warm. Is this one of your favorites?”
Rigo shook his head. “Not anymore.”
Inez slid off the bed and walked out to the hallway. “I’ll find something for her to eat in that box I packed. There’s some peanut butter and a bottle of coconut water. We need to keep her strength up and the coconut water is full of electrolytes.”
Gloria finished bundling the baby tightly in a blanket. It seemed to have once had Winnie the Pooh scenes all over it, and had probably belonged to one of Inez’s children or grandchildren. Now it was soft and faded from wear and love. The baby settled and made a smacking sound.
“Here, Rigo, hold him while I check Tanna quickly.” Rigo held his arms out. “Not like that. He won’t bite. He doesn’t have teeth. Haven’t you ever held a baby before?”
“Well, no. Not really.” Rigo’s eyebrows raised slightly in a position that seemed to say, What did you expect? without uttering a single word.
“Bend your arms. Here, like mine. You need to cradle him. He’s completely floppy. You have to support his head.”
Gingerly, she laid the baby in Rigo’s arms. It felt strangely powerful.
She leaned over and pressed her fingers across Tanna’s tummy, checking her progress as she prepared for the afterbirth. Everything felt fine. Within minutes, all stages of labor were completely finished.
Gloria shifted an old shower curtain from under Tanna. It had kept the bed protected throughout labor. Too bad, she thought as she looked at Rigo gazing at the little baby in the hazy puddles of candlelight, there wasn’t something equally convenient to shield those walls she’d built up to protect herself from memories of Rigo for the last several years.
“Rigo, you can hand the little man back to his mama. Tanna, why don’t you start to try and feed him? I’m sure he’ll appreciate the comfort and it’s important to start a good nursing relationship early.”
Inez came back in, peanut butter jar in one hand, a sleeve of crackers in the other and a bottle of coconut water tucked under an arm. This had undoubtedly been the most unconventional birth Gloria had ever attended, but she wasn’t sure she could have asked for a better crew to share it with.
“I’ll help her with that, Gloria, while you clean up. I’ve got some experience with this.” Inez placed the food on the bedside table and got Tanna set up with pillows tucked securely behind her. “You can hand the baby to me, Rigo.”
Slowly, Rigo moved toward his aunt.
“Something wrong?” Gloria looked up and caught Inez studying her nephew’s face. It was as blank as the wall behind the bed.
He continued to stare at the baby, almost tracing the little smacking lips with his gaze.
“No,” he said quietly. “Not at all.” He laid the baby in Tanna’s open arms. She cuddled the little bundle tightly against her chest.
Rigo backed up and headed toward the door, then turned back to the bed. “Tanna, do you have a name for him?”
The baby squirmed, drinking in his mother’s scent.
“No, not really.” She tore her gaze away from the tiny face in her arms for just a second. “Gloria, earlier when we were at your house, what did you say your baby’s name was?”
Sadness pierced Gloria’s heart. She’d never spoken of her son in front of Rigo.
She needed that strength she’d prayed for. And she needed it now.
“Mateo,” she said, her tongue stumbling over every syllable. “His name was Mateo.”
A smile crossed Tanna’s face. “I like it. Mateo Rodrigo, for you both.”
White-hot shock pierced her heart. Tanna didn’t know their history. She just thought she was doing them a great honor.
Gloria prayed for the second time today. For the second time in the past two years.
Oh, please, God, don’t let me fall.
Gloria picked up the crumpled linens and brushed past Rigo and into the bedroom across the hall, where she could silently crumple herself, away from the eyes that had seen some of the most hurtful moments of her past.
