The sounds that woke Robby made him think he had a bad dream. He always had bad dreams when he was ill. But his eyes were open, and he could still hear the sounds.

The noise started with a soft whimper, then a loud sob. The sob would continue to grow into an ear-piercing howl that seemed to last forever. Then it would stop for a short time. As soon as Robby heard the whimper, he knew what was coming next. He had never heard sounds like that before.

He left the warmth of his bed and trudged carefully in the dark to Luke’s bed, his blanket trailing behind him. He reached out a hand, meaning to shake his brother’s shoulder, but instead grabbed his head and shook it violently.

“Ow!” Luke cried. “What the hell?”

“Shh,” Robby placed a hand over his mouth. “Be quiet. I’m hearing strange noises coming from Mum’s room.”

Luke grabbed Robby’s hand. “Get your smelly paws off me. They stink!”

“Shut up and listen, Luke!  What is that?”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Luke swore. “If you woke me up for nothing, I swear, I’m gonna beat you half to death.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes, his head tilted, listening.

The whimper started, then the sob. When the sob rose in crescendo to a howl, Luke jumped from his bed. “Holy Christ!” he whispered out loud.

“What is that?” Robby asked and trailed after him out of the bedroom.

“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”

Robby fell in line behind his brother. They stepped carefully to Caleb’s room and opened the door. Luke crept up on Caleb and shook his shoulder.

“Caleb,” Luke said softly. “Wake up. Somethings going on.”

Caleb opened his eyes. “What are you doing up?” he asked and gave both brothers a dirty look. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“We hear things,” Robby said.

“What things?” Caleb asked.

“Robby woke me up and said he was hearing strange noises coming from Mum’s room,” Luke said.

“And you believed the runt?” Caleb shook his head. “What the hell is wrong with-”

The howl interrupted Caleb's remark. He cocked his head and listened, then turned to his brothers. “Is that the strange noise you’re hearing?”

“Yea,” Robby bobbed his head up and down. “That’s it.”

If it hadn’t been for the late hour, he would have punched the runt in the arm. As it was so late, he only said, “That’s just Mum.”

Robby’s eyes grew wide in the semi-darkness of the bedroom. “That’s Mum? What’s wrong with her?”

“She must be having the kid. Go back to bed.”

“Mum’s having the baby?” Luke asked. “Aren’t you worried?”

“Nope,” Caleb settled back into the mattress and covered his head with his pillow to block out the noise. “I’ve seen more than one of you brats born. That’s enough for me. Go back to bed,” he repeated.

“I’m not going back to bed. I’m going to see if Mum’s all right,” Luke insisted.

“I’m going, too,” Robby said, hoisting his blanket up farther into his arms.

“Suit yourself,” Robby heard Caleb mumble from his bed. “Dad won’t be happy.”

***

"Is Mum okay?" Robby asked his father as he came out of the bedroom.

"For Christ's sake!" Dad swore, his voice a loud whisper in the quiet hallway as he closed the bedroom door. "What the hell are you boys doing out of bed?"

"We just wanted to hear about the baby, Dad," Luke said. "And we were worried about Mum."

"There's nothing to worry about," Dad scoffed. "Your mother has done this before, every time one of you came into the world. I'm sure she will be able to do it again, too."

"Again?" Robby's voice trembled. "Was this baby another boy, Dad?” Robby was horrified at the thought of another brother.

"Nope," his dad bragged. “I finally got myself a daughter.”

Robby breathed a sigh of relief. Dad did promise Mum that she could stop having babies once she gave him a daughter. “She can stop having babies now?”

He shouldered roughly past the boys and headed to the kitchen. "Sure. But accidents happen."

Robby looked questioningly at Luke. He knew what an accident was but didn't know how it related to having babies.

Luke only shook his head and shrugged. “I’m going back to bed.”

Robby stood alone in the hallway. He didn't want to go back to bed. He wanted to see Mum.

He listened to the noises of the house and waited. It wasn't until he heard the refrigerator door open, the loud pop from the cap on the bottle of beer, and the soft sounds of the guitar coming from the living room. Then he quietly opened his mother's bedroom door and peeked in.

Mum was in bed. Her eyes were closed, her face pale. The baby lay at her breast, suckling.

He approached her as silently as possible, but she must have heard him, for she opened her eyes. Her smile reassured Robby that she had made it through the birthing process and would recover.

"Hello, son.”

"Hi, Mum," he said shyly. "Can I see the new baby?"

"Of course, you can. Come here."

Robby gasped. The baby was red, her head stretched. She looked strange. "Mum!" he whispered loudly.

"It's fine, Robby," she said. "It's because she had to travel through the birth canal. Her head will be normal soon."

“What’s her name?”

His mother paused. “I think I’m going to name her Ruthie. What do you think?”

“I like that,” he smiled, then tried the name out. “Ruthie. Yep, I really like that name.”

“I’m glad.”

Robby watched the baby feed. "She must be hungry."

"They're always hungry when they're firstborn. You were, too."

"I was?"

Mum nodded.

"I'm still hungry, Mum.”

Robby's mother gave him a crooked smile. "Come on, then."

After a glance at the closed bedroom door, Robby climbed up on the bed, snuggling close to his mother. She quickly unlaced her nightgown to expose her other breast and lifted it so that Robby could take it into his mouth.

He suckled for a moment, then pulled his head away and looked up at his mother. "There's no milk."

"No," his mother agreed. "Not yet. But there will be soon. It will take a few days."

"I'll guess I'll wait then," Robby grinned. "I don't like the taste of that stuff right now."

His mother was still laughing when the bedroom door flew open.

His dad’s face was red with anger, his arms held stiffly at his sides, his hands balled into fists. His eyes surveyed the site of Robby lying on the bed, her breast resting close to his cheek. The new baby, on the other breast, sleeping soundly.

"Get out," his dad fumed, staggering toward the bed. "Get out now. Go to bed."

Robby slid off the bed, his eyes round in fright. He felt ashamed, but he didn't know why. He turned his eyes to Mum and silently questioned her. She only patted the boy's shoulder and nodded her head. But Robby saw the fear in her eyes, and he was suddenly terrified.

***

"You're nursing him?" Carl hissed. "You're nursing a height-year-old? Isn’t he enough of a fucking sissy without you helping him out?"

"Don't, Carl," Rachel whispered. "Please watch your language."

"I'll watch my language when everyone in this house starts paying the bills." He slurred his words. "And, right now that someone is me, and if I want to drink, cuss or shit on the floor, I can. You have a problem with that?"

She ignored her husband and slid from the mattress, the new baby in her arms. The child had fallen asleep on her breast, and she didn't want his shouting to wake her. She leaned over the bassinet, kissed her fingers and planted them on the baby's forehead. Then she covered her with the thin blanket.

Blind with rage, Carl grab her arm. The pain shot up her elbow into her shoulder as he spun her around to face him. "Don't ignore me, Rachel. Don't you dare."

"You're hurting me.” She tried to pull from his grasp.

He stank of beer and cigarettes, and Rachel knew she was treading on dangerous ground. Her glance fell on Robby. She realized he was still in the room. She knew her children heard them argue, but never once did any of them witness a fight. She didn't want her baby boy to see this.

"Carl," Rachel nodded her head at the boy.

Carl either chose to ignore her or, in his anger, didn't realize she had spoken at all. But the fact that she’d even tried to talk fueled his rage. He pushed Rachel away from him in disgust. Then, in his anger, he pushed her again until her back nearly touched the wall. Then he shoved her, and she lost her balance, knocking the picture of Jesus off the wall.

He didn't see the nail in the wall from where the picture of Jesus had fallen. Jesus lay on the floor, his sad eyes watching the scene play out before him.

He shoved her one last time, and her head lurched backward, striking the wall, the nail piercing her skull.

Her eyes fluttered for a moment, then rolled up in her head, and she collapsed to the floor. She landed on the picture, a trickle of blood from her skull seeped onto the face of Jesus, and it looked like Jesus was crying blood.

Rachel lay still and silent.

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