Allison Wonderland
Rural
Allison was born on a stormy August afternoon just as the rain had poured heavily on the little home.
The women of the small town had been known to spout off lies as a form of entertainment since there wasn't plenty for a women to do here. They had particularly attached themselves to Alice when they had learned of the impending storm looming over the horizon, telling things of horrors that happened to women that had given birth during a thunderstorm.
"Her child was born dead," Mrs. Natch had muttered at the grocery market, keeping Alice from bagging her groceries, "He was supposed to be her first born son, the heir, and he was born on that storm that brought great floods!"
When she had went into town to bought flowers for her garden, flowers a nice shade of pink to welcome Allison into the world, the florist Elizabeth had stopped her in the roses section, and pointed up at the sky through the greenhouse windows, "That's impending doom right there in those clouds. Each little threatening raindrop is like a dagger for a pregnant woman about to give birth. It's been known to happen every time."
Alice had ignored all their words, returning to an empty home and setting down her groceries and the flowers on the kitchen table. She had looked out into the backyard and noticed an absence of her husband, the town doctor, and assumed that he would arrive home later that day.
As she waddled herself into the living room, she seated herself on the sofa and put her feet up on the ottoman. Bearing a child around town, though she didn't have to and many doctors had told her she needed her rest more than the chores needed to be done, was a heavy burden on both her feet and her back but she knew that when she planted those flours on her new, lighter feet, it would be pain well spent.
As the day loomed on and the impending clouds had finally reached over her little home was the moment that Alice had felt her contractions and reached for the telephone on the side table. She had called her husband's office but he had gotten an emergency at home consultation with a patient and that the midwife Susie would arrive in five minutes to help her before her husband could arrive.
It was not what Alice had wanted but she was not one to complain about things that did not go her way; Allison, on the other hand, was not going to wait on either her father or the midwife to arrive and Alice had to waddle her way to the mattress tucked away in the corner of the living that her husband had laid to avoid returning to the bedroom.
As she squatted down to sit and finally lay back against the stack of pillows, she tried to even her breath and clear her mind.
As much as she wanted to admit that those women's words did not effect her, as a clap of thunder rung through the house, it was safe to say it still clouded her mind and gave her ill feelings as she rubbed her lower stomach.
The midwife had arrived exactly five minutes later, entering into the home knowing that Alice would be laying on the floor, unable to move.
Susie looked friendly, close to the age of 30, and far too thin to be able to safely carry a child. She dropped to her knees and pulled up Alice's skirt to free the passage of Allison and had her lean her head back, place a warm compress over her forehead which she had prepared and stored in a container, and relax.
As Alice screamed through the child birth and time ticked by without her husband arriving, the storm growing brutal outside, Susie continued to stick through with Alice even though her own worried eyes flickered to the window just above where they were set up.
It took Alice close to an hour for the baby to be birthed, and finally wrapped up in a blanket for Alice to hold. She slept soundly through the storm, even as the rain pelted against the rain with loud patters, and she only made a little huff when the wind startled her.
Alice had not enough energy to rise and move to a much more comfortable location so she watched from the mattress as Susie cleaned up her equipment and closed up her midwife bag. As she rose to stretch her legs, she looked over to where Alice was nuzzling her baby, and asked, "Would you like me to stay with you until Charles returns home or do you believe that you will be fine in the coming hours?"
She would have preferred a trained medical practitioner to stay with her but she had thought that Charles would be home later that evening and that she could live with the few hours between. "If anything goes wrong," Alice said, "I'll be sure to call the office."
Susie had left as soon as she had checked over the baby and Alice one more time, muttering about the storm as she opened the door to high winds and excessive rain.
As she pulled the blanket down to show off more of her new child, she felt a little rumble of laughter bubble up in the pit of her stomach. "They had all said that during a storm, something horrid always happens," she said with a smile, pressing a kiss to her child's forehead, "Yet here you are, warm and alive and perfect. My little Allison. Let's rest."
Alice had woken up to pounding at the door. She had fallen asleep with Allison in her arms on the mattress floor. Settling the baby in the warm space she had once occupied, she rose up and cleaned up her dress, trying to make it less then obvious that she had just given birth aside from her wobbly knees.
Rubbing at her eyes at the sudden brightness of the morning in contrast to the dark and gloomy day that was yesterday, she peered at the sheriff who was standing at her doorstep.
"Is there something wrong?" She asked, her eyes wide with worry at the sheriff's sad face, "What is it that would bring you here at such an early hour?"
"Ma'am we regret to inform you that Charles Hanson, your husband, was killed when the bridge out of town collapsed during the storm. He was making his way across it when the weight of buggy tore the bridge down. The rain must have wet the slabs far too much and left them too weak to support weight."
"He," Alice muttered, "He never go to see Allison."
"I'm so sorry Alice," the sheriff sighed.
There wasn't anything Alice could say, or do, except let her wobbly knees lose their ability to hold her up and for the sheriff to quickly swoop in and catch her before she landed far too hard on the ground.
And the women were right.
Something always happens during a thunderstorm.
The women of the small town had been known to spout off lies as a form of entertainment since there wasn't plenty for a women to do here. They had particularly attached themselves to Alice when they had learned of the impending storm looming over the horizon, telling things of horrors that happened to women that had given birth during a thunderstorm.
"Her child was born dead," Mrs. Natch had muttered at the grocery market, keeping Alice from bagging her groceries, "He was supposed to be her first born son, the heir, and he was born on that storm that brought great floods!"
When she had went into town to bought flowers for her garden, flowers a nice shade of pink to welcome Allison into the world, the florist Elizabeth had stopped her in the roses section, and pointed up at the sky through the greenhouse windows, "That's impending doom right there in those clouds. Each little threatening raindrop is like a dagger for a pregnant woman about to give birth. It's been known to happen every time."
Alice had ignored all their words, returning to an empty home and setting down her groceries and the flowers on the kitchen table. She had looked out into the backyard and noticed an absence of her husband, the town doctor, and assumed that he would arrive home later that day.
As she waddled herself into the living room, she seated herself on the sofa and put her feet up on the ottoman. Bearing a child around town, though she didn't have to and many doctors had told her she needed her rest more than the chores needed to be done, was a heavy burden on both her feet and her back but she knew that when she planted those flours on her new, lighter feet, it would be pain well spent.
As the day loomed on and the impending clouds had finally reached over her little home was the moment that Alice had felt her contractions and reached for the telephone on the side table. She had called her husband's office but he had gotten an emergency at home consultation with a patient and that the midwife Susie would arrive in five minutes to help her before her husband could arrive.
It was not what Alice had wanted but she was not one to complain about things that did not go her way; Allison, on the other hand, was not going to wait on either her father or the midwife to arrive and Alice had to waddle her way to the mattress tucked away in the corner of the living that her husband had laid to avoid returning to the bedroom.
As she squatted down to sit and finally lay back against the stack of pillows, she tried to even her breath and clear her mind.
As much as she wanted to admit that those women's words did not effect her, as a clap of thunder rung through the house, it was safe to say it still clouded her mind and gave her ill feelings as she rubbed her lower stomach.
The midwife had arrived exactly five minutes later, entering into the home knowing that Alice would be laying on the floor, unable to move.
Susie looked friendly, close to the age of 30, and far too thin to be able to safely carry a child. She dropped to her knees and pulled up Alice's skirt to free the passage of Allison and had her lean her head back, place a warm compress over her forehead which she had prepared and stored in a container, and relax.
As Alice screamed through the child birth and time ticked by without her husband arriving, the storm growing brutal outside, Susie continued to stick through with Alice even though her own worried eyes flickered to the window just above where they were set up.
It took Alice close to an hour for the baby to be birthed, and finally wrapped up in a blanket for Alice to hold. She slept soundly through the storm, even as the rain pelted against the rain with loud patters, and she only made a little huff when the wind startled her.
Alice had not enough energy to rise and move to a much more comfortable location so she watched from the mattress as Susie cleaned up her equipment and closed up her midwife bag. As she rose to stretch her legs, she looked over to where Alice was nuzzling her baby, and asked, "Would you like me to stay with you until Charles returns home or do you believe that you will be fine in the coming hours?"
She would have preferred a trained medical practitioner to stay with her but she had thought that Charles would be home later that evening and that she could live with the few hours between. "If anything goes wrong," Alice said, "I'll be sure to call the office."
Susie had left as soon as she had checked over the baby and Alice one more time, muttering about the storm as she opened the door to high winds and excessive rain.
As she pulled the blanket down to show off more of her new child, she felt a little rumble of laughter bubble up in the pit of her stomach. "They had all said that during a storm, something horrid always happens," she said with a smile, pressing a kiss to her child's forehead, "Yet here you are, warm and alive and perfect. My little Allison. Let's rest."
Alice had woken up to pounding at the door. She had fallen asleep with Allison in her arms on the mattress floor. Settling the baby in the warm space she had once occupied, she rose up and cleaned up her dress, trying to make it less then obvious that she had just given birth aside from her wobbly knees.
Rubbing at her eyes at the sudden brightness of the morning in contrast to the dark and gloomy day that was yesterday, she peered at the sheriff who was standing at her doorstep.
"Is there something wrong?" She asked, her eyes wide with worry at the sheriff's sad face, "What is it that would bring you here at such an early hour?"
"Ma'am we regret to inform you that Charles Hanson, your husband, was killed when the bridge out of town collapsed during the storm. He was making his way across it when the weight of buggy tore the bridge down. The rain must have wet the slabs far too much and left them too weak to support weight."
"He," Alice muttered, "He never go to see Allison."
"I'm so sorry Alice," the sheriff sighed.
There wasn't anything Alice could say, or do, except let her wobbly knees lose their ability to hold her up and for the sheriff to quickly swoop in and catch her before she landed far too hard on the ground.
And the women were right.
Something always happens during a thunderstorm.