Helen moaned. Her moaning was replaced with screaming. Her face became red, and the veins in her forehead were showing. Marigold saw more of the head make its appearance.

“More towels, I said!”

“That’s a whole lot of blood,” said Rachel.

Helen grunted. “Marigold, what’s happening to me?”

“You’re having a baby, now push.” Marigold pressed her hand on Helen’s shoulder and said, “Push, Helen!”

Helen locked her jaw and grunted. She sat forward and squeezed Marigold’s hand so hard it made her bones hurt.

“That’s too much blood,” said Rachel.

Marigold hollered, “Keep pushing!”

“Push, Helen,” said Rachel.

“Push,” said Laughing Girl.

“Push!” screamed Helen.

Marigold saw men customers peeking in through the windows. Five or six heads piled together. “Get away from there,” she hollered. “Rachel, go close the curtains.”

Helen touched Marigold on the forearm and said, “I can’t do it, Marigold. I can’t.” She began to cry. “I think he’s stuck.”

Marigold steadied her breathing. Her eyelids fell gently, and she let all sound fade into nothingness. She rested her hands on Helen’s belly. She concentrated on her palms. She concentrated on the baby. She concentrated on her own breath.

She felt herself float high above the room and drift above the rooftops, above the forest, and above the bay. And in a few moments, she saw herself in an open field. There were no trees to interrupt the flatness of it, just miles of gold grass. And she saw in the distance a small girl with red hair, staring at her. The girl wore a yellow dress. She raised her hand in greeting when she saw Marigold. She wanted to run closer to the girl and get a better look at her. But she was pulled from this place by the loud sound of Rachel’s voice.

“Marigold!” said Rachel. “Your hands! What’s happening to your hands?”

Marigold opened her eyes. The skin on the backs of her hands had become so white it was translucent. Blue veins showed through, and so did muscle and bone. Her hands were numb with heat. The skin of Helen’s tight stomach also became translucent. A collection of tiny pink blood vessels began to show through the surface, along with marbled muscles.

“What’s happening?” shouted Rachel.

Laughing Girl yelled, “You are doing good, Helen!”

“Push!” said another.

“Here he comes, Helen.”

Helen howled. Her cheeks and forehead turned purple.

“Keep going, Helen!”

“You’re doing good, Helen!”

“That’s it, Helen!”

Helen let out low bellows.

“Almost there!”

“One more good push, Helen.”

“You can do it, Helen.”

Helen gave it all she had. And after one final scream, her body went limp. Next came the sound of tiny lungs crying. It was a boy, lanky and long.

The girls clapped. A man’s muffled voice came through the window. “What is it? What’d she have?”