Night Watch, Part 5

David paced the living room floor. It was a half-hour past midnight. He couldn't read, or sleep. Ten minutes ago, a painful shriek from the bedroom made him cringe. He imagined important body parts being enlarged inside of Angela, moving, shifting, widening, making way.

He heard his name called from the bedroom. He rushed in; craving a duty to perform, anything.

Victoria handed him a bowl with a damp washcloth in it. "Could you freshen that up with cool water? And I need another with warm water."

"Two washcloths, one cool, one hot," David replied, using the tone of voice he learned as a short-order cook near the Auburn campus.

"And could I get a glass of water with that?" asked Victoria, picking up the routine with ease.

"Yes, ma'am," said David. She was quick. He looked at Angela, who smiled weakly from her perch against the pillows. "Can I get you anything?" he asked.

"A baby," she said.

"Sorry, we don't sell those anymore. The health department shut us down."

Angela groaned and shifted her position. David rushed out of the room. He brought back two clean washcloths, side by side in the bowl, one hot, one cold. He had noticed that the old washcloth smelled of perspiration, Angela's. She was having an all-night workout. It made his occasional morning jog around the neighborhood seem like napping by comparison. He handed the bowl and the glass of water to Victoria.

"You can help," said Victoria. She handed him a cloth. "The cool one is for her cheeks and forehead."

David knelt on the bed and gently pressed the cool cloth against Angela's forehead. He saw immediate relief in her face. Meanwhile, Victoria applied the warm cloth to Angela's legs and stomach and abdomen for the purpose, she explained, of relaxing the muscles and tissue around the birth canal. "We have to let them stretch, you see." No, he didn't see how it was mechanically possible, but there was no turning back from this voyage.

The room was no longer their bedroom, David observed. If someone looked at a picture of the scene they would see servants attending a large, lazy queen in a royal chamber of candlelight, pillows and tea. Except that the male servant would have more muscles, and a smaller waist, and bronze skin. The queen's boy toy. On her command he would do whatever she desired. And he'd better do a heck of a good job or else he would be back in the stables, where the duties weren't nearly as much fun.

Angela lurched and cried out, and David was jolted back to the present moment.

"Wow," said Angela. "This baby is awesome."

"Awesome?" said David. "That's not the word I expected you to use."

She gripped his hand. "Just relax, David. Everything'll be fine."

It took a moment for her words to sink in: she's the one having her insides rearranged to a new shape, and she's telling me to relax.