Adaptation: book I (17 page)

Carmella let the chainsaw idle. “I haven’t tried to work that diesel generator in years.”

“Will it heat your home when it gets cold?” Bilal asked.

“It would if I could find diesel fuel or more kerosene,” Carmella replied. “That generator sucks fuel like a fish, and diesel fuel and kerosene are hard to find around here.” She pushed a dreadlock over her shoulder and scowled. “Sometimes it took me weeks to find enough fuel to last a few days. It’s just not worth the effort.”

“I will go out and find diesel fuel and kerosene.”

“What? What about the baby?”

“
I would not leave until after the birth but before the first snow. I don’t believe the fireplace will be sufficient to keep the house warm enough for an infant. When I find more fuel, we can utilize the generator on the coldest days and the wood to maintain the warmth.”

“You’re not going to find any, not around here.”

“I will search,” Bilal said.

Carmella stared at the wood. “Okay, I guess.” She had worried about the firewood situation and knew she didn’t have enough cut, split, and seasoned. “But how will you know where to look and what to look for?”

“Carmella, I’ve been traveling the face of Earth for years. It is what I do.”

She smiled. That made two of them. 

That night when she went to bed she snuggled under her blankets and felt contentment.

Bilal slipped beneath the sheets and sighed as his body relaxed.

This was nice indeed.

~***~

The next few
days allowed the two to become better acquainted and more comfortable with each other.

Carmella didn’t like complaining. She had been doing everything on her
own for so long that she didn’t know how to ask for help, but as the days progressed, the pain of her belly splitting became incredibly intense. Her human body wasn’t accustomed to the rapid growth of the baby, and the baby was enormous. It was as if she carried twins.

Some days she would squat to pee in her slop bucket and pain would stab up from her groin to grip her belly. Sometimes she would stand at the sink and feel as if she’d explode if she took one more breath. There were times she could barely rise from the couch or a chair.

One morning a week after she and Bilal had become friends, Carmella awoke and sat up in bed. She swung her legs over the edge, but when she tried to stand a searing pain shot across her belly.

Gasping, she braced herself against the bed and froze, waiting for the pain to subside.

It didn’t let up.

A moment later she felt wetness between her legs. She reached down because it felt thick and sticky.

“Bilal!” she screamed.

Her fingers were covered in blood.

~***~

Bilal had been
up for a while. He’d already gone out to collect the eggs and milk the cow. He kept a careful eye pealed for the wolves. He still didn’t trust them. Once he’d looked up from milking the cow to see the big wolf standing in the doorway watching him. Bilal had to stand up and loudly shoo him away.

Bilal brought the eggs to a basket on the counter and poured the milk into a bowl he covered with cheesecloth. He knew that Carmella would later whip it into butter and bake bread. He loved watching her transform unappetizing items into delicious meals.

When he grabbed the water pail, he heard Carmella stirring in her bedroom. He heard her gasp and froze, cocking his head. He headed for the stairs and was halfway up when he heard her scream. He dropped the empty pail and took the remaining stairs two at a time.

“Carmella!”

He burst through her bedroom door to find her bent over and holding her belly with one hand while staring at her other, bloody hand, her gown blood-stained.

She looked at him with panic in her brown eyes. “Help me.”

Bilal didn’t think—
he reacted.

He scooped her up in his arms and placed her gently on the bed.

“Is something wrong with the baby?” Carmella tried to sit up, but a sharp pain gripped her, she gasped, and she fell back onto the bed, her face twisting in pain.

Bilal’s normally calm face was stitched in concern. Although she couldn’t see it, his hands trembled as he knelt on the floor beside her bed and pushed up the knee
-length gown. He took in the way her belly ballooned out, stretched impossibly tight. Stretch marks marred her beautiful skin, and blood streamed out of her, matting the dark curls of her pubis.

This isn’t normal,
he thought.

Carmella tensed and cried out in pain. She gripped the bed
sheets, unmistakable terror in her eyes.

Bilal pressed his lips to
her belly button. He was afraid as well but knew that Carmella shouldn’t see his fear. The baby was not due for three weeks. His lungs were underdeveloped even though he was already as big as a baby living outside of the womb for a month.

“It’s not supposed to be like this
…” Carmella knew something was wrong. What if the baby didn’t make it because she had mentally distanced herself from it—him? He. Her son. Her child. Tears stung her eyes, but through them she saw Bilal do that strange thing with his mouth on her bellybutton. His hands splayed on each side of the swollen mound that was now her stomach. How could it be that only five months ago her stomach had been flat? 

She tensed
when he connected with her through his sensors. It wasn’t unpleasant, and soon the pain began to lessen. Her body relaxed, and she let out a held breath. She watched him, his long dark hair draped over her belly in silky wisps and relaxed even more. Somehow, she knew that Bilal would make it right.

When he looked up, his face seemed calm
. “Better?” he asked.

She nodded.
She felt better than she had in weeks. “Is he okay?”

“He’s sleeping.”

She felt a smile tugging at her lips.

“It’s you I’m worried about,” he
said.

“Me?”

“Your pregnancy has progressed far too fast and for a child much too large for you to carry comfortably.” A shadow fell over his face. “This is my fault. I never considered the size of the infant in conjunction with the … with you. And neither did the mother ship.” He leaned back on his heels, but one hand remained on her belly. “Carmella, I am going to have to take the baby early.”

“Take him?”

“He has to come now.”

“But we have another month
. Will he be okay?”

His
eyebrows drew together. “He may, but you
won’t
if we wait another month. You will not make it.”

Carmella
saw the tension around his eyes and mouth. Had it always been there? Why hadn’t she noticed that he was hiding his fear? “But can’t you do something?”

“I stopped the bleeding inside
, but as soon as you move, you will begin to bleed again. You are splitting open from the inside. Every time he moves and every time you move a wound opens. Your body cannot accommodate this pregnancy any longer.”

“But
… but what about people who have multiple births? Hell, I remember this lady called the Octomom who—”

“But our child is not completely human
,” Bilal interrupted. “In three weeks he will weigh approximately seven thousand grams.”

“Grams? What the hell is a gram?”

“He will weigh over fifteen pounds.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What if the baby comes early? What’s going to happen to him?”

“He will have difficulty breathing.”

“Then we can’t do it,” she said.

Bilal shook his head. “I didn’t give you this child to replace you.”

“But you did give him to me, and I say he stays in my belly!”

Bilal stood and sat on the bed beside her. He reached over and pulled her covers over her partially nude body. “There is a way. The mother ship can fix you.”

“The mother ship? I’m not getting on any alien ship! You’re
not
taking me to fake Earth.”

“Carmella.” He rubbed a gentle circle on her belly. “I won’t take you there. Please calm down.”

“You fixed me and you saved Wolf.”

He looked at his human hands. “I can’t fix you with these. I can’t do what I need to do. I don’t have enough sensors.” Before he could have linked with her in several places, but now he could only use the stunted sensors in his tongue. He needed to connect to her spinal column to stop the pain completely but couldn’t unless he pressed his mouth against her back. And how could he help deliver the child if he was connected to her back? This was such an ill-conceived idea. He hadn’t considered any of the problems that she might face giving birth. He rubbed her belly again.

“Bilal, you can do this. I’ll stay in bed. I won’t do anything until the baby’s lungs are stronger.”

“It will not be easy,” Bilal said. “You are not good at doing nothing.”

“Trust me,” Carmella said. “I promise to do nothing. And you can fix any tears that might happen along the way.”

“And when the baby comes? Do you trust that I will repair any damage that his birth might cause?”

“Of course.” And she meant it.

But Bilal knew that if they did it her way, there would be much damage to repair.

~***~

“Bilal, look.”

Bilal could tell by the tone of her voice that she was okay, but he stopped everything to see what had caught her attention. This was week two of her bed rest, and he had been running the entire house. He was in the kitchen preparing the bread. He’d seen her do it often enough, but his bread never turned out as good as hers did. “I’m coming,” he shouted, and he dashed up the stairs. 

Wolf lay outside her bedroom door, his head raised and his ears tilted forward.

Bilal met Wolf’s eyes and regarded him warily as he stepped over his prone body. There was still no trust between them, but they had developed a grudging acceptance. Once inside the room, he saw Carmella propped up with pillows in bed, a beatific smile on her face. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at the sight of it.

He loved her.

He couldn’t tell her, of course, because she would misunderstand and think that he wanted to covet her. He didn’t. He only wanted to love her and to appreciate the hard life she had decided to live on her own terms.

“I can’t believe this. Watch.”

He moved to the bed and sat beside her.

Carmella was dressed in something she referred to as a “moo moo,” and it was hiked up to expose her swollen belly. Blankets kept her discreetly covered below the mound because it was too difficult to get in and out of undergarments. 

She placed her fingertips along the top of her belly at one side and ran them across to the other side. Bilal could see the impression pushing back and following the path of her finger. She beamed at him, and Bilal laughed. The baby was playing with her! “You try it,” she said.

He reached out and ran his finger along the same path, and the baby followed the movement. They both started laughing.

“He’s so smart,” she said.

“He is. He is my son.”

“Mine, too.” Carmella smiled. “You’re proud of him.”

“I am, and I love him and … I’m not exactly sure why. I guess it’s because he is a part of me and you and Raj and of course, himself.”

“Raj is the friend you look like, right?” She knew that he had used Raj’s preserved sperm, though she didn’t want to know where Bilal got it. “Isn’t he?”

Bilal didn’t respond. He’d spoken of Lawrence and Raj in passing, but it made him sad to think of how badly he had betrayed them by stealing their DNA for his own purposes. It wasn’t that he looked like Raj or had Lawrence’s height. He was part Raj and part Lawrence, and his  son was as much Raj’s son as it was his and Carmella’s.

“You miss them,” she said.

Bilal nodded. “Bilal, would you like to name the baby after Raj?”

He nodded. “Yes.” 

“Is Raj an Asian name?”

“His name is Roger. Roger
Jeung. He told me that his parents were from North Korea but they immigrated to America. He and I were able to become such good friends because he was a mixture of cultures but identified with the world in which he was raised. We are both similar in that way.”

It sometimes amazed her at how good-looking Bilal was. He was at least 6-3 and extremely muscular. She wondered if that was the influence of Raj or the other friend, Lawrence. What did Lawrence look like? He wasn’t African American, and that was for sure.

She sighed. “I don’t care for the name Roger, but I rather like the name Raj.”

“I do, too. It would give me great pleasure to call our son Raj. But I have one request. I would like it if he had my last name—Akunyili.”