Rebecca stooped along the snowy road — when had it snowed? She dug in with her shovel and lifted the snow, dug in and lifted, dug in and lifted. Mechanical, too fast, cartoon-like. All the while bullets flew over her head, someone shooting as she tried to shovel faster and faster. How long could she go on without getting hit? Her blood would be very red against the white snow. She had to shovel faster! Dig in and lift. Dig in and lift. Then she heard it. The bullet whizzed by her ear, making it ring. Her heart pounded in time to the ringing. The next one would hit its mark. The blood in the snow. Then the ringing!
Rebecca sat upright with a start and blinked awake. The newspaper rustled in her lap. Her heart thudded, thudded. But that wasn’t the sound. Her bell was ringing. Someone was downstairs at her front door.
She descended the stairs slowly, still in a daze. Saturday night; she wasn’t expecting anybody.
Turning on the outside light, she peered through the small square of glass in the front door. She rubbed her eyes, then threw wide the door and gaped at her sister.
Susan gave her a sheepish, half-hearted smile behind a curtain of blonde hair. “Hi, Rebecca.”
Her leather jacket was far too small to enclose her pregnant belly. A backpack lay beside her on the stoop.
“What are you doing here? How did you get here?” Rebecca searched the empty air behind her for Susan’s husband. “Where’s Ben?”
“In Montreal.”
Rebecca picked up the backpack and led her sister into the house. “Please tell me you didn’t drive all the way by yourself.”
Rebecca fell into the habit of scolding her sister because Susan was two years younger. But she was also taller and, despite appearing contrite, gazed down at Rebecca with the knowing look she had developed in childhood. Bemusement usually accompanied the look, but not this time.
“You’re eight months pregnant. You shouldn’t be driving for hours like that.”
Susan lowered herself slowly into a kitchen chair. “I’d give anything not to be pregnant!”
“Susan!” “Three children are enough,” she said. “I didn’t want another one. I was supposed to be in law school in September. This baby screwed everything up.”
It wasn’t the baby who screwed, Rebecca thought.
She took the plastic containers with last night’s leftovers from the deli and put them on dishes to microwave. “There’s some leftover matzo ball soup and potato skins. Here, have some salad. You must be starved.”
They didn’t look like sisters. Rebecca had always thought Susan was the good-looking one, tall and willowy, one wave of blonde hair falling over her face. She reminded Rebecca of Lassie, only less obedient. She had their father’s long nose, but on her it looked elegant. She had also inherited his stubbornness.
“I can’t eat. I’m never going to eat again.”
Rebecca understood, but she was the big sister. “Does Ben know where you are?”
Her hazel eyes stared at Rebecca. “I couldn’t take it anymore. Ben and the two oldest came home from shul today and I made them all lunch — grilled cheese sandwiches. Do you know how many slices of bread you need to make four grilled cheese sandwiches? Eight. And if Ben wants more, it’s ten. That’s almost half a loaf. Do you have any idea how many loaves of bread I buy in a week? How much time I spend shopping for groceries? The hours preparing food? Lunches for the kids? Shabbat dinners? Who am I? I’m a cook and a maid. I’m someone’s wife and someone else’s mother. When I look in the mirror I don’t see myself anymore. I don’t know who I am, Rebecca. I’ve disappeared, and this big fat nonentity has taken my place.”
Rebecca got up and stood behind her sister, wrapping her arms around the front of her neck with affection. “You’re not fat. You’re pregnant. And you’ve got the best family.” She felt a hollow in her chest at the word.
“I know I should be grateful for everything ...”
Though she didn’t say it, Rebecca knew they were both thinking it: I have a family of my own and you don’t.
“But I — I hate my life. I can’t do it anymore. I wanted so desperately to go to law school. Feel some respect for myself. I’d make a great lawyer, Rebecca. I’m passionate about justice and I’d ...” She stopped and took a breath. “I finally got accepted and then bingo! Another triumph for Ben’s sperm. I’m a bloody baby factory.”
Rebecca stood beside her, a hand on her shoulder. “Do you want me to call him and tell him you’re here?”
Susan shook her head. “I want him to worry. I want him to be stuck with the kids all by himself. He’s going to have to get used to it because I’m not going back.” Susan looked up at Rebecca with large, determined eyes. “I’m going to have this baby and hand it to him. Then I’m leaving. I’ll get a job in the evenings and put myself through law school.”
“But Susan ...” Rebecca knelt into a crouch beside her sister’s chair. “You love your children.”
“I’ve disappeared into the wallpaper, Rebecca. I’m just not there. You don’t understand because you always had a career. You always knew who you were. I need to know who I am.”
Rebecca wavered to her feet, sitting down in the chair beside her sister. “Susan, you’re the most organized, competent woman I know. Law school is still waiting for you. Start next September. Get a nanny. Get a cleaning woman. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”
“We can’t afford it. Mark’s starting bar mitzvah lessons next year and with the Hebrew school tuitions for all of them ...”
“Mark doesn’t need bar mitzvah lessons and Hebrew school. Send him to public school.”
“Ben’ll never go for it.”
“Is there any money in investments you could use?”
“We’re saving it for Mark’s university.”
Rebecca sighed. “Use it for your university. You’ll earn the money for their tuition later.”
Susan blinked back tears. “I think he’s having an affair with one of his students.”
Rebecca examined her sister, still beautiful despite her bloated middle. Were the inflated hormones of pregnancy making her irrational? Ben was the most solid, down-to-earth man Rebecca knew. “Do you have any proof?”
“It’s a feeling. He’s so distracted. He just comes home to sleep. He barely notices me. He’ll notice when I’m gone, though.” She closed her eyes. “I’m so tired.”
Rebecca stood up. “You need some rest. Come upstairs to the guest bedroom.”
Rebecca pulled out the sofa bed upstairs and put on fresh sheets and a quilt. She left Susan in her pyjamas trying to get comfortable, half-sitting, half-lying on her back, her belly large and round beneath the covers.
When Rebecca no longer heard any movement upstairs, she called Ben in Montreal.
“Oh, Rebecca! I was just going to call the police. Susan’s missing. I took a nap after lunch with the boys —”
“Ben —”
“— and when I woke up she was gone! I’ll have to call you back —”
“She’s here, Ben.”
A beat of silence, data processing. “She’s in Toronto? But why? Did she drive? Is she crazy? Put her on the phone. I have to talk to her.”
“She’s sleeping, Ben. Did you notice she’s been upset about the baby?”
“I know she’s upset. Look, can I talk to her?”
“She’s sleeping.”
“I know you mean well, Rebecca, but this is between Susan and me. I know her, and she’ll come round once the baby’s born. She loves kids. She’s just tired. Now put her on.”
“Ben, I waited until she was asleep because she wouldn’t call you. She’s very angry.”
A moment of deliberation. “I’ll get my mother to look after the boys. I can be in Toronto by dawn.”
“No, Ben!” How could she put it delicately? “She needs some time to herself. I’ll try to get her to call you tomorrow when she wakes up. No promises.”
Rebecca stared at her TV screen for a few hours, watched the news with the same distraction. Jimmy Carter walked across the White House lawn to meet some dignitary or other. In Ottawa, the gangly Joe Clark, their youngest ever prime minister, who had defeated Pierre Trudeau in the spring. “Joe Who,” as the headlines dubbed him, had caused an uproar during the campaign when he promised to move the Canadian embassy in Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. He was still dealing with the fallout. A talking head on the news said the Arab states threatened an economic boycott of Canada. Why all the fuss about Israel? Was nothing else going on in the world? Yet another demonstration in Egypt protesting the pact with Israel. She thought of the venerable Dr. Salim. He couldn’t be very popular among some circles in his own country. And all the other Arab nations that had ostracized Egypt because of the peace accord. Who could understand the antagonisms in that ancient part of the world? None of the flickering images interested her. Instead of looking for a late-night movie, she went to bed.
Rebecca was in the middle of a dream about her parents. She was visiting them in Santa Barbara, only her mother looked like Susan and she had three little kids running around the apartment.
“Rebecca! Come quick!”
Rebecca sat up in bed. She blinked at the clock: 3:50. Had she dreamt the voice?
“Rebecca! Wake up!”
She jumped out of bed and ran to the bedroom across the hall. Susan was lying in the bed, her covers thrown off. “My water broke! I’m having the baby.”
“I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No time. It’s coming now.”
Rebecca took a breath. She turned on all the lights and brought in a goose-necked reading light from her bedroom, aiming it at Susan. She ran to gather towels and found a sterile disposable scalpel in her medical bag.
Susan groaned when Rebecca placed a clean folded sheet beneath her. “Take it easy, sweetie,” Rebecca said. “It’ll be fine.”
She picked up the phone and dialed the operator. “This is an emergency. I’m a doctor and I’m going to be delivering a baby at home. I need you to call an ambulance.” She gave the address to the startled woman operator and hung up.
“I don’t want this baby,” Susan moaned, her face mottled with effort. “I don’t want this baby.”
Rebecca lifted Susan’s knees to examine her. She was fully dilated, and the baby’s head began to appear.
“I don’t believe it!” she said. “Susan, the baby’s coming now...”
“I told you. I’ve had enough practice to know.”
Susan’s labour with the three other children had been mercifully short. A few hours and it was all over. She was made to have babies. However, this one was a month early.
When the head was partially visible Rebecca said, “Push! Bear down!”
Susan whimpered and groaned. A bit more of the head appeared.
“I don’t want this baby!” Susan groaned again, and the rest of the head eased out. The shoulders were the harder part, but after three other babies, Susan’s body knew the way.
Rebecca supported the little body, covered in mucus and blood, on its slow way out. Susan moaned a little, deep in her throat, but on the whole she was remarkably quiet through the ordeal.
“Doing great, sweetie. Push some more.”
“I don’t want this baby!” Susan screamed.
“It’s coming whether you want it or not. So push and help it out.”
From the size of the head, the baby was tiny; Rebecca prayed it would survive the trip to the preemie unit.
“Nearly there! Just a bit more. One more good push.”
She held her hands beneath the miniature shoulders to support them on their way through the canal. Once they were out, the rest was easy. The slippery body slid into Rebecca’s waiting hands.
“It’s a girl!” she said. “A tiny, beautiful girl. She has all her fingers and all her toes.”
No response from Susan. Rebecca cut the umbilical cord with the scalpel. She held the baby up until she whimpered and Rebecca knew she was breathing on her own. She needed to get to an incubator. Rebecca wrapped up the bundle in a clean towel.
She placed the baby beside Susan, who shook her head and closed her eyes, a tear squeezing through. “Watch her while I finish.”
She tied off Susan’s end of the cord and cleaned her up with more towels. Through the dark night a siren approached. It wasn’t until the doorbell rang that she allowed herself a deep breath and finally acknowledged the pounding of her heart.