James Grippando - Leapholes

There was just a single room, if you could call it a room. It had all the charm of a hole in the ground. The walls were dirt, and so was the floor. The sod roof was supported by rotting timbers. They were sagging in places, and perhaps one or two more winters would trigger a complete collapse. The only furniture was a chest of drawers in the corner and an old wooden table up against the wall. The whole place smelled foul, like an outhouse for racoons. No human being had lived there for quite awhile, but it was the best the prairie had to offer.

Ryan stepped outside and shouted, "Looks great! Come on in!"

They carried Hannah inside and laid her on the table. She was in terrible distress, and Ryan wasn't sure how to console her. He was glad Abigail was with them. Herself a mother, Abigail knew exactly what to do. She sent Hezekiah out to gather sticks and branches for a fire. Ryan searched the chest of drawers for some matches, but of course "safety matches" were not widely available in 1857. Ryan settled for a piece of flintstone that the previous occupants had left behind. After many failed attempts, he and Hezekiah finally produced a spark big enough to light the dry grass and twigs. Minutes later, they had a roaring fire. Ryan and the men stayed outside and kept it burning. Abigail stayed inside with Hannah. All was silent, save for the occasional crackling of the fire and the periodic screams from the mother to be.

Hannah's last cry had been particularly shrill.

"What's going on in there?" said Jarvis.

"Pain's a natural part of childbirth," said Hezekiah. "No way around that. At least not in the middle of the nineteenth century."

The door opened. Abigail emerged, her sleeves rolled up and a panicky expression on her face. She knelt beside the fire and heated the blade of her pocketknife until it was glowing red. Then she handed Ryan her canteen and said, "Boil me some water!"

Ryan didn't know anything about birthing babies, but he seemed to recall from the movies that when someone said "Boil some water," the baby wasn't far off.

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"I need you in here," she told Hezekiah. She took him by the arm, and the two of them disappeared into the sod house.

Ryan emptied the canteen into an old metal pot that he'd found inside the sod house. Just as the water came to the boil, he heard another one of Hannah's cries from inside the sod house.

"Push!" ordered Abigail.

"I can't, I can't!" screamed Hannah.

Ryan ran to the door with the boiling water, but he stopped short of entering. He suddenly felt like an intruder and that it wasn't his place to watch. He listened from outside the closed door.

"I see the head!" said Abigail. "One more push, girl. On three! One… two… threeeee!"

The scream that followed was unlike anything Ryan had ever heard in his entire life. It was filled with pain, filled with relief, filled with life, itself. And then there was only crying- a baby's crying. Hannah was crying too, but these were happy tears.

"It's a boy!" shouted Abigail.

Ryan smiled. All was well.

Abigail said, "Ryan L'new, where on earth is that boiled water I told you to fetch?'.'

Ryan hurried inside and handed her the pot. Abigail sterilized her bandana in the boiling water. She waved it in the air to cool it just a bit and wiped the naked baby clean. Then she handed the infant to his mother, who cradled him in her arms. Ryan had never seen more love in a young woman's eyes.

Hezekiah approached tentatively. Hannah motioned him forward. None of them had known Hannah long, but Hezekiah seemed to swell with a grandfather's pride as he approached.

"What are you going to name him?" he asked.

Hannah held her baby tight, considering it. Then she glanced at Ryan and said, "I'm gonna name my boy after this brave young man right here."

Ryan blushed. Abigail nodded and said, "Ryan's a nice name."

"Not Ryan. L'new. I like that name. L'new."

They all smiled, and Ryan tried not to laugh. He didn't want to break Hannah's heart and tell her that L'new came from LNU-last name unknown.

"That's a good name, too," said Ryan.

They watched in silence as the young mother kissed and stroked her newborn's face, whispering his name. "L'new. I love you, L'new."

Ryan could not stop watching them. It reminded him of the way his mother looked at his baby sister Ainsley, and he imagined that she had once looked at him the same adoring way. He was suddenly feeling the pain of separation from his own family-until Jarvis entered the sod house.

"Someone's coming," he said in a solemn voice.

Hezekiah took charge. "Abigail, you stay here with Hannah and her baby. Ryan, Jarvis, come with me."

He led the way out of the sod house. Standing by the campfire, they spotted the cloud of dust rising on the horizon. It was perhaps two miles off, though distances were hard to gauge on the ocean-like flatness of the prairie.

"Definitely looks like riders," said Hezekiah.

"Lots of riders," said Jarvis. "No way one or two horses kicks up that much dust."

"Kill the fire," said Hezekiah. "No sense sending up smoke signals to guide them to us."

Ryan pitched fistfuls of dirt onto the fire until it was extinguished. "You think it could be a slave-catcher posse?"

"No way to tell just yet. All we can do is wait," said Hezekiah, his voice trailing off. "And be ready for the worst."

The cloud of dust in the distance was no longer moving toward them. Slowly, like a ship on the horizon, it faded off to the west and dissolved into the setting sun. As dusk fell over the prairie, the dust cloud completely disappeared. In its place was a gentle wisp of white smoke that curled into a dark purple sky.

"They set up camp for the night," said Hezekiah.

"I wish we knew who they were," said Ryan.

"One way to find out." Hezekiah suddenly looked like a man with a plan. "Jarvis, you stay here and help Abigail watch over the new momma and her baby. Ryan and I have a little spying to do "

Taking only a water canteen with them, they walked side-by-side in a west-northwest direction. This was new terrain, as they had reached the sod house earlier from the south. It all looked the same, however-waves of prairie grass dotted with wild yellow blossoms, well-suited for a sod house. It was an especially dark night, which made it difficult to see. Occasionally, the skies would brighten as spears of moonlight broke through the shifting clouds. They walked at a strong, steady pace for about ten minutes, and then Hezekiah started to limp.

"Are you okay?" asked Ryan.

"I'm fine," he said. But his voice had a slight edge. He didn't sound fine.

They walked for another half hour, and Hezekiah was noticeably tired. His limp was worsening. Ryan suggested that they stop to rest. Hezekiah didn't object.

"You sure we're going the right way?" asked Ryan.

Hezekiah put his nose in the air. "Don't you smell that smoke? That's their campfire. We're definitely headed in the right direction."

Ryan opened the canteen, and they each took a long drink. Hezekiah reclined in a thick of prairie grass. Ryan watched him for a moment, then said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How did you end up in St. Louis?"

"Same way you did. I used a leaphole through the Dred Scott decision. March sixth, 1857. St. Louis, Missouri."

"I understand that much," said Ryan. "I was wondering why you were researching the Dred Scott decision."

He drew a breath and let it out slowly. "Because I'm running out of time."

Ryan felt a rush of concern. "You mean you're…"

"No, no. I'm not dying. No lawyer can die before he golfs at Pebble Beach. It's against the rules. I'm just retiring. I told you that before."

"So, you're running out of time to do what?"