A Special Delivery

We hadn’t seen a house or other building for miles. The labor pains were drawing closer and closer together like the cinching of a cord. Our phones had gone silent over an hour ago and I was frantic over the idea of delivering my child in a car in the middle of nowhere. Finally, I observed a house up ahead, on a nice plot of land with an old barn in the lower field. I pushed the little car as fast as it would go on unpaved roads. My wife squealed a few times when we hit a bump that sent her airborne. While I knew the collision with the seat was excruciating for her, I was striving to get to a place that might at least have water.

The gate was locked, but I scaled it quickly; almost like back in my school days. I sprinted for the front door and pounded my fists on it like I was driving nails. An old man answered and admonished me for trying to tear down his door. I brazenly interrupted “my wife is in labor; she’s having a baby right now. May I bring her in here?”

“No!” he said.

“Please sir, I know this is sudden and unusual, but the baby was not supposed to come for another 3 weeks. Is there somewhere I can make her comfortable to deliver?”

“Not in here.”

“Sir, you don’t understand. The baby will come no matter what.”

“Tomas!” Malina screamed from the car.

“Then, may I please take her into your old barn, sir? Please! There isn’t much time.”

“Yes, the barn is the right place.”

“Thank you,” I yelled as I ran back to the car.

“How do I open the gate?” I called back.

“Just pull on the lock, it’s broken.”

I pulled the car up to the barn. Slowly but swiftly, I walked Malina into the old building. She groaned and complained but we didn’t have any other option. Thankfully, the few animals were penned in their stalls.

In a spot with plenty of hay, I threw a blanket down. Malina did not want to lie on the hay; but, as another contraction came, she was forced to her knees and it was inevitable. Just then, the old man arrived carrying a pillow, towels, a large pitcher of water and a bag with a few interesting supplies. He saw me wrinkle up my face and incline my head with surprise; yet, he gave no explanation; just greeted my wife, wished her well and left.

I went to the car to get anything else we might use. How could this be happening to us in such a remote, unusual place? One wrong turn had led us into no man’s land and boy was I regretting it. Miraculously, I made her comfortable and we had a very short giggle about the situation.

Then came another contraction. I checked to see if there was any sign of my child trying to enter our lives in this amazingly unexpected manner. There was the top of his head. I couldn’t breathe. My wife’s groans caused me to regain my composure and I told her to push. The baby was jettisoned right into my arms. I froze in awe of this miracle while Malina collapsed back into the hay.

“It’s a boy!”

I carefully cut the cord, tied it and cleaned him off. She asked “what is happening, why isn’t he crying?” Placing him on her chest, I asked myself what had we just done? This new life was totally reliant on us. Unbelievable. After gazing at him for a few moments, we heard snorting and neighing. The animals were all gazing upon us and making little comforting sounds. We smiled.

Since Malina and my newborn son were drifting off to sleep, I decided to go thank our host. The barn doors seemed quite heavy now when before I had flung them open like they were made of cardboard. Night had fallen and the sky was an amazing tapestry of dancing light. I hurried up the walkway to the house hoping the old man had not gone to bed already.

I didn’t get to knock. He opened the door as I reached the porch.

He said “It’s a boy, right?” with a knowing smile.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“It’s always a boy.”

“What do you mean?”

“As long as I have lived here, the barn births are always boys. And did you look up to find all the animals watching and giving their approval?”

“Well, yes. How do you know that? What is going on here?”

He simply pointed to the sky above the barn.

I turned around and could not believe my eyes. An enormous star was brilliantly shining right above the barn.

“Whoa. I’ve never seen anything like that. Does that happen often?”

“It happens every year when the baby boy is born.”

“Wait. What baby boy? My baby boy?”

“Well, a different baby each year; but this year, it is your son.”

“What does it mean?”

“I can’t say I really know. It has happened every year since I, myself, was born in that barn.”

“Really?”

“Yes. My mom was out tending to a sickly mare when the birth pains began. She remained out there too long and then couldn’t get back to the house. My pa heard her screams from the field. He brought grandma and they delivered me in the barn.”

“That’s amazing.”

“My grandmother lived her whole life in this house, too. “'These are special boys being born here,' she said.”

“Special in what way?” I asked.

“Natural born leaders who have a special obligation to teach people to appreciate each other and celebrate our differences.”

This outlandish tale was not at all believable in my mind. I thanked him for his assistance and was ready to head back to the barn.

“One moment,” he said. “She must be hungry.” He handed me a basket with bread, fruit and nuts.

“Thank you, sir. This is very kind of you. My family is deeply indebted to you. Have a good night.” I began to head toward the stairs to get back to Malina and the baby.

“The townspeople and the wise men will be here in the morning,” he said matter of factly.

I turned and stared at him not knowing how to respond.

“I’ll have breakfast ready for you once they leave and you can spend tomorrow night here in the house if you like.”

“Townspeople and wise men? That’s ludicrous. Why are you carrying out this charade?”

"I have no choice in it, really.”

“Ok. Good night.”

This man must be deranged I thought. Living out here all alone has affected his mind. He is living in a fantasy world. But, my mind was quickly silenced by the bright star that seemed to beckon me to return to the barn. Perhaps, my body and mind were so drained from the adrenaline rush that I was hallucinating.

Inside the barn, all was quiet. I couldn’t believe that I was a father now. My little boy was perfect and I delivered him myself. Never had I dreamt that such a thing was possible. Malina was awake marveling at the tiny being laying upon her chest so contently. Somehow, I knew she would be a fabulous mother. I lay down next to her with the basket of food and fed her grapes, walnuts and bread.

We slept for what felt like a month, yet only 5 minutes at the same time. The animals gently stirred and awakened us almost as if they knew something was about to happen. I’d never woken in the morning feeling so refreshed. Malina echoed my sentiment saying she couldn’t understand how she could feel so good after childbirth. We washed our faces and I noticed what looked like a wooden baby cradle in a corner of the barn.

Malina was delighted to lay our newborn son in it. I shook out the blanket and folded it into the small cradle. She laid him in it and not two seconds later there was a knock on the barn door.

“It must be our host,” I whispered. Malina sat in the hay next to the cradle.

I strode quickly to the door to invite him into his own barn. When I opened the door, I almost fainted. A crowd of people were eagerly awaiting a chance to meet our child. This couldn’t be more unusual. Three elderly men stepped forward with their arms outstretched, each offering me a small box.

Could the whole town be in on this hoax? I had never heard of such a thing. But, how could we not go along with it at this point? So, I pushed open the doors and welcomed them in.

Malina looked stunned, but beautiful. The three “wise” men entered first and blessed our son by laying their hand upon his head and speaking astonishing forecasts about his life. When they finished, they stepped aside and the townspeople came in to coo at the baby and my wife. It was all so weird. I was in disbelief that these people would go to such outlandish lengths for a prank. Maybe there was absolutely nothing happening in their lives.

When the last of them had filed past and wished us the very best in life, we closed the doors. We stared at each other bewildered.

“Why didn’t you take any pictures?” Malina asked. “No one will believe us without pictures.” Well, maybe this was a crazy story we would be content with keeping to ourselves.

“I see you found the cradle," said our host as he opened the pens to let the animals out. "Breakfast is ready. Come on up to the house.”

I helped Malina up and she picked up the baby.

“Does he have a name yet?” he inquired.

“Yes,” Malina answered. “Matteo after his grandfather.”

“That’s perfect,” he said smiling. We marched together up to the house.

"I am Malina, sir. You have been such a gracious host. Please tell me your name.”

“Bethel is our family name,” he replied.

Mr. Bethel had prepared an amazing meal for us. We joked about his having had it all delivered. After we spent some time chatting and laughing and getting to know each other, Malina and I helped him clear the table. However, that was all the help he would accept. We declined his kind offer to host us in his house for another night because Malina was so excited about presenting Matteo to his grandparents.

As we approached the door, I noticed a piece of mail on the small table in the entry addressed to Mr. Matteo Bethel. What an unbelievable coincidence, however, it is a popular name. Malina pointed open mouthed to birthday cards on the mantle. At this point, I wanted to make our escape as quickly as possible and perhaps even wake from this bizarre dream.

“My home is always open to you if you would like to visit and bring Matteo to see where he was born,” said Mr. Bethel as we walked to the car.

“Thank you, we will,” Malina assured him.

No sooner had I put the car in gear when my wife said, “my phone has a signal, I am going to call Mama.” Barely a quarter of a mile down the road, we recognized a restaurant we had eaten at yesterday and a few streets further up there was a sign for the hospital. I had to pull the car over.

“I’ll see you soon, Mama,” said Malina as she abruptly ended her conversation. “What is happening? Did we really just have our baby in a barn that was 5 minutes away from the hospital?”

“I think so.”

“What are we going to tell everyone?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Without pictures who is going to believe us, anyway?”