Historical Setting, 629 C.E. Vosges Mts.
The birth of the baby is eminent. So now, I’m heading back to the castle fields to get Will. It’s his own thoughtfulness now to bring along the baby blanket and the ceramic feeder. Of course, everything is already prepared by the women at the cottage so nothing is needed. Dear God, but thank you for Will’s new thoughts of caring for a child.
Will is impatient with the donkey’s pace, and yet it is his own weight that slows the cart. Now, while we are yet two miles away, he chooses get off the cart and run ahead.
Brandell meets him in the doorway of the creek cottage and tells him to stay outside. As I arrive with the donkey cart, there is Will, with the little blanket and the ceramic spoon in one hand, panting, breathless, at the doorway with a slow rage burning at his wife’s brother who is blocking him from his most important ever, duty. Maybe Brandell deserved the black eye.
But now Will is confronted with Gaia. He simply picks her up and sets her aside. Does anyone else understand he isn’t really a monster? He is a father. He is perfectly sober, and there is nothing that can stand between him and caring for his infant just now, except that the baby has yet to be born.
Ana invites him to Layla’s side. Even I’m surprised that he seems patient and tender now when it matters most. Thank you, God.
In this moment of gentleness, he tells Layla that he has planted a field of oats for the baby and already there are little sprouts of green showing on the soil. He shows her the blanket and the little ceramic baby feeder and tells her everything is ready for the baby now. Layla is smiling, Will is wrapping his huge hand around both of her hands, and now she is screaming, and Will is helpless again.
Hannah tells Will, “Papa will wait with you outside, now.” Hannah is skilled at ordering useless men outside at a time like this. And so, Will and I wait outside. I call Brandell over, now holding a cold cloth on his eye.
“Brandell, one day may you also understand the fears and frustrations of this moment.”
Nearly civil now, Will adds, “Sorry about my quick fist, Little Fellow.”
“Little fellow?” That’s how mammoth Will perceives us normal statured men? Maybe we still have a way to go in taming this monster.
(Continues tomorrow)
Lazarus Ink 