Jacob's Mother—Chapter 39

Beginnings

Photo by Frank Alarcon on Unsplash

Jacob’s Mother is a serialized novel. Start with Chapter One.

Chapter 39: Beginnings

Ireland—Old Gaelic World

James, Aideen, and Mr. MacLiam pulled Elizabeth out of the cave. She knew that she could not save her mother, but she fought them the whole way in the darkness. When they finally emerged into the morning light, everyone was exhausted and covered in scrapes and bruises.

Mr. MacLiam’s arms were under Elizabeth’s armpits, and Aideen was holding her legs. She had stopped struggling against them and let out a wail. They gently laid her down on the ground, and she rolled over into the fetal position, sobbing.

Her mother was dead.

James lay down on the earth with her and wrapped his arms around her. He stroked her hair. “I’m so sorry, Lil,” he muttered over and over again, while her grief washed over her. She felt as if she had left her heart in that cave with her mother, and all that was left of it was a black hole. She could feel the mud from the ground on her cheek, and she thought her tears would flood the cave just as the rains had done. The downpour had stopped, and she could feel the sun, but she could only think of her mother trapped under the cold water. She shuddered. Then she lay very quiet. Perhaps she could hear Moya speak to her. But she heard no voices, even though it was dawn, and the faery folk would be chasing the sun home. She knew that her mother had sacrificed herself to protect her. The voices were gone.

Suddenly, the tightening returned around her middle. This time it was so strong that she had to sit up and cry out. James sat up too, wiping the tears and mud from his face, and rubbing her back. Aideen, tear stained from the loss of her friend, bent down and felt under her skirt. Elizabeth cried out when she pressed around between her legs. Aideen emerged from under her skirt, and Elizabeth cringed when she saw the black eye she had given her friend, when they struggled to pull her out.

“It’s time,” Aideen said.

“You’re eye.” Elizabeth sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Aideen reached up to touch her eye, it was almost swollen shut, bulbous and purple. “Aye, you rung my bell, Lil.” She stood up. “But we have more important things to worry about. This baby is coming.”

Mr. MacLiam wrung his hands and paced back and forth. “Ach, the baby is coming,” he said. “There is a flat stone over there that is dry. Should we move her?”

“Aye,” Aideen agreed. “It won’t be long now. Her waters must have come in the cave.”

James lifted her up, but Elizabeth cried out, “No!”

Everyone stopped.

“I won’t have this baby in this forest.” She looked at everyone’s faces. Everyone had lost that day. She could taste the salt of her tears in her mouth. “Please. Not here.”

The two men held her up, one under each arm, as they trudged back to the road. Aideen told her to take shallow breaths and not to push. Luckily, the MacLiam’s had brought their wagon. Aideen sat in the back with her, holding her hand, while they bounced up and down on the road. Mr. MacLiam urged the horses to go faster, as they rode along the stacked stone fence. A vice like pain clamped down on Elizabeth, and she tried to breathe in shallow breaths. Even though she was soaked through and shivering from the cave, she felt sweat begin to bead at her brow.

Finally, they stopped at the MacLiam’s pub and carried Elizabeth inside.

“It’s time for all men to go,” Aideen said, shooing James out of the back room. “Go wait in the pub with Mr. MacLiam. Go!”

Aideen stripped off Elizabeth’s wet clothes, and James lit the fire.

“Be gone, James!”

“Wait!” James said. He ran back over to Elizabeth and kissed her forehead. “Maybe I should stay?”

“Oh no!” Aideen went to the door and pointed to the pub. “Be gone!”

She shut the door and stripped off her own wet clothes, laid them to dry in front of the fire, and put on an old shift. She was a great woman and wore the striped battle scars of her births around her middle. She came over to Elizabeth and felt around a bit. “Well, it’s about that time.”

Elizabeth was exhausted. More tears ran down her face. She couldn’t imagine giving birth right now. She just wanted to go back to the cave and find her mother’s body. But her own body had different plans and the vice like feeling came back and she bore down as hard as she could.

“Good job, lass,” Aideen said. “Just a few more, now.” She heaved Elizabeth’s leg up on her shoulder, just as Elizabeth had done to her all those years ago. “Alright, Lil. Push!”

Elizabeth pushed and grunted as all the mothers before her and the mothers after her had done. “I can’t!” she cried out.

“You can! And you will!” Aideen cried out just as loudly.

Elizabeth fell back on the pallet, defeated. She missed her ma so much. Suddenly, she knew that Moya was in the room with her. She couldn’t see her, and she couldn’t hear her voice, but she knew she was there. She thought of her mother’s green eyes, peering up at her. She saw her mother weaving at her loom, stopping to take her hands in hers to give her a bit of advice. She thought of the smell of lavender and itchy wool between her fingers. She thought of her mother’s charms and traditions, of the old ways, that Moya tried so hard to preserve. Moya was there. She would always be there. She was everywhere—in the wind, in the trees, in the land.

She pushed again, and again with a strength that she never knew she had. Finally, a baby girl was born.

Elizabeth held the baby girl in her arms. Her tiny eyes were sealed shut, and she fought the world, screaming a loud cry, angry at being taken from her warm womb. Her tiny jaw trembled between cries, and Elizabeth laughed at this child’s defiance. She was a wee warrior, a descendent of the goddess Danu. She had a swirl of raven hair, but she was fair in coloring like James.

After the business of the afterbirth was done, the men came in, and James held his daughter for the first time. He kissed her head and stared at her tiny face. Elizabeth had never seen him so happy. He held the baby as if she was made of glass, trembling a little for fear of dropping her.

Later on, when Aideen was done pouring the water for the blessing of the nine waves over the babe, she asked Elizabeth. “What will you name this wee one? Moya?”

Elizabeth knew that her mother wanted her to choose life for this baby. It was tempting to name her after Moya, but she knew it wasn’t what her mother wanted. This baby would bask in life’s gifts. She would not have one foot in the faery world, but have both feet rooted into life. Elizabeth hoped she would be strong. She hoped that she would love fully, and she hoped that she would laugh often. She kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Her name will be, Eabha*.”

Aideen covered her giant bosom with her hands. “Meaning life. Beautiful choice.”

“It’s what ma wanted,” Elizabeth said. “She wants this baby to choose life over shadow. She is going to live fully in this world.”

James smiled, picked up his daughter, and wrapped her in a blanket. “Little Eabha,” he said.

Aideen sat down on a chair and cried. Big tears rolled down her face, and she smiled and sobbed at the same time. “Your ma would have loved the name,” she said. Her husband, Sean, stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulder’s, proud of his wife.

*Eabha (AY-va) meaning: Life, Beginnings, Renewal

Chapter 40 is coming soon!

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Jacob’s Mother is an original publication by Laura Ellis. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law and fair use.