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Samuel is still smiling, and I let out a sigh of relief as this might be exactly what he needs.
* * *
Rose is having her afternoon sleep, and I insist on Samuel taking a nap as well.
It allows me time to call Amy and catch up on her news. The school term ends on Friday, and she’s traveling back for the Christmas break. She mentioned she might not return to Berri even though she loves the country. Before I ask her what led her to the decision, she mentions Ethan has traveled on three occasions to visit her.
For a while, I’m gobsmacked. The last time we spoke, he was proving to her he was a decent guy and a good friend. I must have missed the signs he wanted more with Amy. I never considered them compatible and believed it would take a lot for Amy to forgive him. I never imagined either of them taking the next step toward a relationship.
I’m not sure what I feel, although a sense of relief is swirling in my gut. They are both my friends, and while I’ll always bat for Amy as one of my besties, I’m happy if they’re happy. I grin, imagining Amy keeping him on his toes. That girl won’t hold back if something pisses her off.
The universe is finally aligning for my friends and me. I then send Bree a message.
Hi Bree, are you visiting Adelaide over the Christmas break? We all miss you, and it’s time for a reunion.
Hey, Edes, I miss you all. Life has been hectic yet I do have time off over the holiday break. I’ll be in Adelaide for a week and then on a cruise to Fiji with someone special. I can’t wait for you to meet Benjamin.
I let out a little scream.
I’m so happy for you!! I can’t wait to see you again, and I’m looking forward to meeting Benjamin!!
With a sense of contentment, I decide to rest on our bed beside Samuel.
Without waking him, I open Gran’s journal.
45
IVY
February 1964
My abdomen has grown considerably, and I’m close to full term. Labor is on my mind, and I’m having nightmares of the worst possible outcome. I have been observing other pregnant women and noticed the younger women have the elder ladies to assist them. From a distance, I’ve watched their smoke ceremonies during the birth. The purpose of smoke isn’t clear, although I don’t see the benefit of smoke inhalation for the lungs of a newborn.
Last week, a heavily pregnant woman worked in the field near to me. I noticed her as she struggled with the work and would stop and place a hand on her lower back. It was like a future image of myself. After a few hours, she wandered off, so I followed her, keeping a safe distance. I watched as she dug a hole.
She moaned quietly, almost singing words over and over in a mumbled chant.
Another woman joined her, then she squatted and gave birth to a child over the hole. I wanted to go to them and offer my assistance. Only many don’t see me as someone who cares for them. I still have a shadow of doubt surrounding my aura, and I didn’t want to scare her.
Yet it was the most simple and stress-free childbirth I have ever witnessed.
The next day, she was back working in the field with her newborn on her back.
As much as I wish the same labor for me, I’m afraid, after my last labor, it will last for days, being my experience with giving birth to Winston.
Special ceremonies followed by a feast happens approximately once a month. The people dress up for the occasion. Feathers secured by twine fan out like wings from their upper arms. Bodies are painted with a sequence of lines and V’s and dots over their limbs and torso. The men also paint their faces. Some prepare with tattoos inked into their skin by paint and a piranha tooth. It’s when I noticed Weju’s new facial tattoos. Dots and lines and a star to his cheeks. The lines join those down his neck to his chest, reminding me of a diagram of the night sky. I know the people follow sun and moon cycles, yet the astrological artwork on their bodies is remarkable.
Like other feasts, last night began with song and dancing to celebrate a successful hunt of five wild boars. The men imitated other animals in their dance—birds, jaguars, caiman. The descriptive body movements are easy to decipher.
Smiles were big.
Stomachs were full.
The shaman told a story, and warriors were praised.
Then the mood changed.
Weju was standing beside the shaman. They called to me to join them. The circle of dancers surrounded me. The song started again, the dancing lifted a notch to hands waving at me, then up and down like the flapping of wings. The song was directed at me until the shaman’s song rose above everyone else. He took my face in his and blew smoke into my face. I coughed and spluttered while he did the same action at my swollen stomach. Then I realized he was either purging the evil spirits out of me or protecting me from them.
