Don't forget to use the Book Chapter Directory on the right to read the Chapters in sequence.
The following events are all true. Names and location have been changed.
Part 1: Love in a Harsh Landscape
Chapter Three - Paris, the Birth
1873 Paris
The following events are all true. Names and location have been changed.
Part 1: Love in a Harsh Landscape
Chapter Three - Paris, the Birth
1873 Paris
The
floorboards creaked under the weight of Madame Fontaine as she fumbled
anxiously with the white linen towels.
“She is ready! Hurry up Fontaine! It is
time!”
She hurried
up the narrow stairway and pushed the old wooden door open, the creaking of the
hinge caused the lady on the bed to rise up and look at her, he large abdomen
distorted under the quilted blanket. A fire roared in the grate and the room
smelled putrid. Infected. Cursed. Abomination.
“Will the child come now?” Fontaine
asked, worry lining her face.
“Yes, any minute now, and when she does we
must get the infant away from that monster before she hurts it…Jesus. Mary.
Joseph. Archangel Gabriel…” There was a stirring from the bed and the
labouring mother stirred, a low guttural groan escaping her scarred throat, the
groan turned into the chilling snarl of a wild animal - her body thrashed
against the rough ropes holding her down.
“I won’t hurt my child! J’aime mon bébé! I
love my baby!” another snarl and shriek, the red dark ringed eyes burned
with malice and hatred for her captors.
“The priest will be here shortly. You will
never touch this misfortunate child. You are evil, an abomination and you will
never leave this room!”
Again, the woman in the bed roared and wrestled
with the ropes. Her movement moved the entire four poster bed. Causing the
women surrounding it to pray even more fervently. One of the thick ropes
started to fray and unravel, with every rough pull.
“Quickly mon dieu! She escapes! Elle
échappe! Quickly! More rope!” The frantic activity of women in white
dresses. Scared women scurrying wildly around, praying, tying ropes and
avoiding the snapping snarling woman in the bed.
“Dieu nous délivre de ce mal! God deliver us from this evil!”
A cry of
pain and the gush of birth.
The quiet
sound of death... of breath leaving lungs. Eyes dulling. The mother passing on,
as her lifeblood flooded from her…
No sound. A small seemingly lifeless form.
Then, a child’s newborn cry.
No sound. A small seemingly lifeless form.
Then, a child’s newborn cry.
