HER'S TO TAKE

0013

FREYA

Child birth wasn’t any game anyone can play with ease, not to talk of having six babies in a single labor.

I had not seen anyone who did such before, but I did it in the local clinic in the town I ran to after fleeing from Jaxton and the cities I could smell his presence in.

They were laid next to me on the massive bed at home, because there was no furniture for babies here, but I was sure my kids would lack nothing in their life, because everyone in the neighborhood stepped out for us.

They had not seen such thing as sextuplets in years, and they were glad to have them in their midst now.

“What’s their name?”

“What would be their surname?”

“Will they bear Joe’s name?”

I shrugged at those questions and laid back on the bed, pretending to be sleeping, and praying in my mind that the people who had gathered in the room would just walk away.

“Let’s name them one after the other.”

“Which of them is the eldest?”

“Joe and his woman should name their kids, not us.”

Everywhere went silent as that voice broke through them.

I knew that voice; it was Marthins’ voice.

He is the head of the little neighborhood, and he is a jovial fellow.

Everyone stepped out of the way to grant him passage into the room where I was with my kids, and he edged his way in and stopped by the bed, smiling.

“They are healthy and beautiful. We’ve never had such blessing before. Joe and his wife should name them.”

His words ended the argument on who was to name the babies and eased me the worries of being asked by the ready mob in the room, who the father of my kids was.

I feared they would ask such question when one of them asked if my kids would be named after Joe. That was a way of sparking up curiosity on who would possibly be the father of my kids.

“I’m still gathering names, chief.” Joe said.

His voice wasn’t as loud and blissful as it used to be, because he has catarrh. It had been his problem for a month now, and he had been placed under treatment by the clinic, who sends a nurse to him every three days.

“Good.” Marthins said and turned to me, his eyes meeting mine like they did the first day he visited Joe and saw me chatting with Joe’s wife at the balcony. He had always had that nice gesture though, but I feared that gesture, because I knew that behind it was lust.

Yeah. I knew it was lust because many men had been nice to me because they think I look really beautiful and foxy, and I will be really good in bed.

“I will give every support needed. Financial and whatever would be taken care of by me.” He said and his face creased into a smile.

“Never mind, chief, we already have everything we need. We are okay.” Joe said, shooting him a smile as broad as the one he tossed at me.

Martins turned to Joe, both old and bony, dunning old clothes and breathing so audibly I could hear the sound of their breath.

“Indeed, Joe, I know you have most of the things you need, but you don’t have all. You have never had a raised a child, that’s why you think you have what it takes to carter for six without our support.” Marthins raised his hand and rested it on Joe’s shoulder.

Those were harsh words, but he uttered them as though there were not a bit offensive. I hated him for reminding the old man, Joe, that he never had a kid.

“I know I have had none so far, but I have six now, and I would not desist from being man enough to carter for my family.” Joe retorted in the most respectable manner.

I feared that the little heated argument had the hidden tenacity to mature into something larger than what it was at the moment.

“Enough of the fight you old fellas. We should be having fun.” One of the men among those who had gathered to cheer me and my babies up, said.

He seemed to have sensed that the men who were facing each other and exchanging bitter words were up to something silly.

I liked the fact that someone, who seemed to be a cool fella, had pried into the rising quarrel, but that was the same man who asked if my babies would be named after Joe.

He is a gossip on his own, and he is always dunning an old cowboy outfit, but not all gossip cowboys like fighting, that could be the reason why he wanted the two old men to stop the argument and ride on with fun.

“You are right, Enoch, but this boy here thinks he owns the kids alone. They are our responsibility, including their mother. I am the chief, and I have spoken.” Said Marthins.

I’ve always thought the neighborhood was classless, but here is a man exercising autocracy right before me.

“That’s no-good reason for a fight, but good Joe said he would be a man for his family. We must let him be the man he wishes to be, at least for now, with his breath choking at his throat.” Another man in the room said, and the rest of the men, including Joe and Marthins busted into a barbaric laughter.

That was a bad way of settling odd scores, but I was glad Joe laughed at the silly gist. He seemed to be ready to shield his sword and play neutral.

“So, let’s go party and take shots of whisky. Bills on me.” Marthin said and shot me a glance.

“Right away, chief.” The man who first said words that settled the scores said, and together, they trooped out of the room, leaving me, the women in the room, and my babies behind.