by Gregory Lamberson
Jill could not recall opening her eyes any more than she could remember when she had lost consciousness. The cathedral ceiling came into focus above her, knotty pine crossed with dusty beams.
Not my room, she thought.
Then she heard crickets chirping, and she remembered: the cabin.
Jed had brought her to the secluded mountain retreat to relax after her pregnancy had become difficult, the pain in her belly becoming unbearable. He had cooked roast duck and asparagus for dinner, and, lighting candles, had served her grape juice in a wine glass.
She remembered nothing after the second sip. She tried to sit up, but something halted her. Turning her head from side to side, she saw that her wrists had been bound to the headboard. She gazed over the mountain of flesh that her belly had become; her feet had been secured as well.
Jed leaned over her, his straight white teeth gleaming. She had fallen in love with that smile, had become Mrs. Jedediah Donner, D.D.S., because of it. Like his father, Jed had a successful Manhattan dental practice. Seeing the syringe in his hand, her blood curdled like warm milk
“Oh gld, Jid, whd ahl yl doog ths?” Swallowing, she tried again.
More gibberish.
Jed pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down. He inserted the needle into
her arm and pressed the plunger.
“This is going to make you feel better.” He set the syringe on
a metal tray atop the bedside stand, and she noticed that he did not covering
the puncture in her skin with a bandage. “Our son is going to be special,
Jill. Unique. Remember when you first told me that you were pregnant?”
Eyes wide, she nodded. It had been the happiest night of her life.
“
I told you then that we’d have a son, but you didn’t believe
me until after you’d had the ultrasound.”
She swallowed, her mouth cottony. She had attributed his insistence on the sex of their child to wishful thinking.
“All of the babies born in my family are boys. There’s never been a female Donner, except through marriage. That’s just the way things are.”
What the hell was he talking about?
“That’s why I pushed you to use my cousin Alan as your obstetrician. Another doctor might have found the source of your pain troubling.” He squeezed her hand. “Our baby is teething. Poor little guy. Do you have any idea how painful it is for children when their baby teeth erupt through their gums? Imagine how that feels for unborn babies. Evolution can be cruel.”
She felt like vomiting. Her perfect husband had gone insane!
“The women that bear our children don’t need midwives or doctors. They don’t even have to push when they’re in labor. Their babies do all the work for them. That’s why I brought you here. This cabin has been in my family for generations.”
You son of a bitch. She did not know what to believe, except that she was in danger. Her eyes filled with tears, and through the salt water Jed became a vague blob.
He stood up, and she noticed his hospital gown for the first time. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this, but the family’s survival comes first. ‘Be fruitful and multiply.’ Two steps forward, one back.” He nodded at the blackness beyond the window. “We have a little cemetery in the woods. You’ll be in good company.”
She shuddered.
“Those prescriptions I’ve been giving you? One is for little Jed. It strengthens his gums so that he can do what comes naturally to him. The other was a coagulant to keep you from bleeding to death before he was ready. You’ll be out of pain soon.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“At least you’ll live long enough to see him.”
She felt pressure in her belly.
“Eight months is normal for us. I knew he was anxious to get out when your pain intensified.”
Her face twitching, she stared at her stomach. A shape moved beneath her flesh, like a shark beneath water. She pulled at her bonds.
Jed pressed a washcloth against her forehead. “Try to relax, honey. Don’t get yourself worked up over something you can’t change.”
Her body wilted, and a red splotch appeared within her stomach, spreading beneath her skin like oil.
OH, JESUS GOD ALMIGHTY, NO!
A pinhole appeared in the splotch and a thin line of crimson squirted into the air. The pinhole widened, blood gushing like water from a fountain, splashing her body and the bedcovers. How many women had died in this bed?
She felt no pain.
A tiny mouth appeared where the splotch had been, glistening baby teeth chewing on her flesh. Little Jed’s face emerged, slick with Jill’s blood, his eyes closed. He spat out a piece of umbilical cord and gasped for air, then continued gnawing.
He wants his mommy, she thought.
Jed reached inside the opening and drew the baby from Jill’s ragged wound, gore dripping from the newborn’s delicate limbs. He tied the cord and turned the baby over, his gown smeared with blood.
Jill closed her eyes. Please, God, take me now.
Her heartbeat slowed, and she heard a slap, followed by a strangled cry. Opening her eyes, she saw Jed cradling their son. He would make a good father, she decided. As her vision faded, she heard her husband’s voice for the last time.
“You’ll make a fine dentist one day. You have your daddy’s
teeth.”