Free Mama Ruby by Mary Monroe Page A

snicker.
    Simone beckoned for Othella to move closer to her. As soon as Othella reached her mother’s side, Simone grabbed her hand and used it to cover Ruby’s mouth. “Make sure she don’t holler so somebody can hear her. I don’t want nobody to think we beatin’ on her or nothin’ like that, up in here. We got enough mess on our hands already.” Simone wrung her hands and sprinted across the floor. She cracked open the door. She glared at her son with so much hostility that he almost jumped out of his shoes. “Boy, you get your nosy ass away from my door! Now!”
    “Yessum,” O’Henry muttered, trying to look over his mother’s shoulder. “I know what y’all doin’ in there,” he sneered. “You and Othella and Ruby Jean.”
    “What?” Simone barked, closing her door a few inches more.
    “Y’all in there drinkin’ some of the good whiskey,” O’Henry accused with a loud belch.
    “That’s right! If you want some, there’s a fresh bottle in the kitchen cabinet over the stove,” Simone told him. She quickly closed and locked the door.
    “He’s gone,” Simone said in a low voice, returning to the bed. “We need to hurry this thing up. We got to get Ruby Jean out of here before him and the rest of them kids get too nosy.”
    For the next five minutes, Ruby writhed in agonizing pain as the baby took its time making a complete entrance into the world.
    “Hold your breath and push real hard, Ruby Jean! Push like you sittin’ on the commode doin’ your business,” Simone ordered, hovering over the bed. Ruby still wore the same dress that she had worn to the party. Simone and Othella had pushed it up around her waist and elevated her pelvis with two pillows and a folded up quilt. “That’s it . . . that’s it. Now give me one more real hard push. . . . The head’s out . . . the shoulders is comin’! It’s almost here!”

CHAPTER 12
    W ITH HER HANDS SHAKING AND COVERED IN SWEAT, OTHELLA held Ruby down by her shoulders. There was a sudden, squishy noise as the baby popped out of Ruby’s body and slid into Simone’s anxious hands.
    A few seconds after Simone had slapped the newborn baby’s behind, and gently forced open its mouth with her fingers, the baby wailed like a banshee. Othella covered the baby’s mouth with her hand to keep the other kids in the living room from hearing. She kept it there until the baby stopped crying.
    As soon as Ruby realized she had finally given birth, she sat bolt upright, reaching for her baby. But before she could snatch the baby out of Simone’s arms, she passed out again.
    Ruby came to less than five minutes later. Simone was standing over her with the baby wrapped up to its neck in a pink towel, all cleaned up and gazing around the room, reaching with one hand. A tiny finger grabbed one of Simone’s fingers and held on to it as if it were a lifeline. It was almost as if the baby knew and realized the grim circumstances of its birth. And it was a beautiful child, the most beautiful, most healthy-looking baby that Simone had ever seen before in her life. It had golden brown skin and large brown eyes. A lock of silky black hair spiraled down the baby’s forehead, looking like a fishhook.
    “This is the most beautiful baby I ever seen in my life,” Simone said softly, tears in her eyes. “She looks like a little angel. If God created a prettier baby, He kept it for Hisself.”
    “Sure enough,” Ruby agreed, gazing lovingly at the child as Simone held it close to Ruby’s face. Looking at her baby, she had to blink her eyes several times to hold back her tears of joy. She was so pleased, she was beaming with pride, just the way a new mother was supposed to. “This baby is so precious . . . and perfect, ” she managed. Ruby’s voice was so hoarse, it sounded like she had a frog in her throat. At that moment, she was convinced that there was nothing on the planet more important to her than this baby— her baby. “Hand me my baby,” she ordered,