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Victory

By Mayra Barry

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Smith Island, 1592

JAMES SMITH WAS PACING the hallway to his room. He was awaiting word from Sarah Johnson, who was the midwife tending to Rachel. His wife’s labor seemed to never ease up. He was nervous as he never felt this way towards his first wife when she endured the labor of his two older sons. The anxiety of what could happen to Rachel filled his mind.

Rachel cried out in pain and interrupted his thoughts. Holding his breath, as he stood in the hallway, James stopped in front of his door. His concern was for his beloved Rachel. Will she survive giving birth to her firstborn?

A drop of sweat ran down his forehead while memories flooded his mind about his first two sons, Ruben and Blake. He remembered when it was their time to be born. The painful cries from his departed wife reminded him of how difficult it could be to bear a child.

Shaking his head from the stressful memories, he paced the hallway once more. His thoughts returned to Rachel as he glanced at his two sons. They kept out of the way by staying seated on the bench near his room.
When there was silence inside his room, panic arose within him. Was Rachel still breathing? Was she alright? Dear God, please let her be okay, he prayed.

James held his breath when he heard the cry of an infant. He instantly looked at the door to his room. Should he barge through the closed doors to see for himself if she was well?

Before he could follow through with the thought, the double doors opened, and the midwife appeared. Closing the doors behind her, she told James that Rachel was doing well, and that he was the father of another son.

“Praise God! It’s another boy!” James proudly shouted once he knew Rachel was fine.

He hugged Sarah excitedly and thanked her for caring for his wife and newborn son.

As the news spread throughout the homestead, all celebrated the occasion. Wine bottles were being opened, and treats were being made for the entire household.
Seven-year-old Blake sat with his older brother, Ruben, while they watched their father run into his room.

Blake noticed Ruben’s paled face. “What’s the matter, Ruben? You look like you’re gonna be sick. At least it’s not a girl.”

“Shhh! Quiet, Blake!” Ruben hissed. He didn’t want his father to know that he was concerned. “I’m not sure what this would mean for you and me,” Ruben confessed.

“What do you mean?” Blake looked at his brother with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Remember when mother died, and father married Aunt Rachel?” Ruben asked.

“Yeah. What’s that got to do with us?” Blake wanted to know.

“Well, he was happy to have you and me as his sons. But then, when Aunt Rachel came into our lives, the whole household talked about father loving her more than mother.” Ruben explained. “What if he loves this new brother of ours more than us?”

Blake tried to understand what his older brother was saying. He couldn’t fathom why Ruben was so worried about their new little brother. It was just another baby.

Ruben continued, “Besides, now that Aunt Rachel has her own son, she may not want us in father’s inheritance.”

Blake’s expression turned serious. He was old enough to understand the importance of an inheritance. The possibility of theirs being ruined because of a new baby boy brought him concern. Maybe Ruben was right. Maybe father and Aunt Rachel won’t want them as part of their lives anymore.

Blake watched his brother’s legs bounce up and down. It gave away how nervous Ruben was. Should he be worried, too? He wanted to walk over to where his father’s room was, but Ruben’s hand pulled him back down.

“What did you do that for?” Questioned Blake as he stared half-mad at his twelve-year-old brother.

“If father wanted us there, he would have invited us over.” Ruben gave his little brother a look, which usually meant to either listen or else.

Blake was fidgety. He found it difficult to sit still and wait. He wanted to run the halls, sneak a peek at the newborn, or even go outside and play. But here he was, sitting next to his older brother against his own free will.

A noise came from the door to James’ room. The door creaked open, revealing their father holding a bundle in his arms. It was making weird noises. Blake waited for his father to look his way. Would he invite them over to see the baby? He thought about what Ruben had said.

“Ruben. Blake. Come here,” James called as he waited for them to come over. Blake watched the eager look on his father’s face as he smiled at the baby.
Walking towards him, Ruben and Blake sluggishly approached the door to his room.
Still holding the squirmy baby in his arms, James quickly glanced to ensure both boys were coming. James returned to the room as they neared the door, expecting them to follow.

Blake was the first to enter. He stared at the bed where Aunt Rachel lay sleeping. She looked exhausted. He looked up at his father, who wasn’t looking back at him, only at the baby. Ruben showed up from behind.

James glanced over to where his loveseat was in his room. He gestured to the boys to go sit down. They strolled over to the cornered seat as their father instructed and seated themselves.

James came closer with the rolled-up newborn in his arms. Blake smiled with anticipation. He wanted to see his new baby brother.

Their father lowered his arms as Ruben put his out, instinctively knowing his father was going to allow him to hold the infant. Blake’s eyes grew wide in excitement as his father placed the baby in his brother’s arms. The baby had its eyes closed. Its tiny fist touched its mouth. He looked so small to Blake.

Intrigued, Blake moved closer to Ruben to get a closer look. They both stared at the baby as it began suckling at its hand.

“Father? What’s his name?” Ruben asked, breaking the silence between them.

James Smith looked proud of his newborn son. “His name is Joe.”

“Hi, Joe. My name is Ruben,” Ruben introduced himself.

James smiled at his oldest son’s greeting. Blake wanted to hold Joe, too, so his father could smile at him. Without waiting his turn, he reached over to roughly take Joe from Ruben’s arms. This action got him scolded by James as the infant cried.

Blake wondered why his father had reprimanded him. He didn’t understand what he did wrong. Sitting back, he was none too happy anymore. Crossing his arms and no longer interested in the baby, he stared straight ahead with a pout on his face. Blake couldn’t understand why Ruben got to hold the baby and not him.

James took Joe back and went over to Rachel. Her midwife had come back in to finish cleaning up. He handed the baby to the maid and escorted his older sons out of the room. He requested they go outside and play while he tended to matters of the home.

Blake thought that was a good idea. He was no longer in the mood anymore to be around Joe. He was glad to get out of there.

Ruben and Blake made their way to the woodsy area behind their home. There, they kept themselves busy as their father continued helping Aunt Rachel with baby Joe.

The following week after Joe’s birth, the house was filled with people. Their father had invited all the staff and sailors to see his new son.

Ruben and Blake spent the week watching their father spend much time with Aunt Rachel and Joe. They both no longer felt important in his life.

James continued helping to take care of the baby and barely interacted with Ruben and Blake. He had no knowledge that his two sons were craving his attention.

Each year after the birth, Rachel celebrated Joe’s increasing age. The household treated it as a grand affair. They even invited the neighbors from nearby islands to celebrate with them. During the annual feasts, Rachel would always look glamorous.

Her gowns were long, silky, and they sparkled in the light. She always pinned up her long, dark hair in a grand, fashionable way. It was one of the things James loved about Rachel. Even the women visitors admired her beauty and compassion. They all agreed the older Joe grew, the more his appearance and loving nature reminded them of his mother’s.

During the gatherings, Blake tried to stay out of the way whenever his father was around. He always seemed to get himself into trouble, even when he felt he acted his best.

As Blake grew older, he blamed his younger brother Joe for the clashes he had with their father. He often wished Joe had never been born. These thoughts he kept to himself. If he made them known, it would sever even more of the relationship he had with his father.

***

When Joe was twelve years of age, his mother fell ill. The staff in the palace wouldn’t allow any of the boys near her room out of fear they would contract what Rachel had.

James arrived home from his voyage just in time to be with his wife during the last moments of her life.

At her bedside, Rachel glanced his way as she felt her hand being taken into the firm hands of her husband. She gave him a loving, faint smile. Her eyes had a dark rim around them.

Mustering up all her strength, she drew her hand from his and touched her cross necklace around her neck. Looking at James, she struggled but managed to ask him if she could see Joe privately.

Not wanting to waste time and questioning why, he reluctantly obliged and, against his own will, he allowed Joe to go in rapidly. He recognized the danger of Joe being present, but he couldn’t prevent her from bidding farewell to her only son.

She could no longer open her eyes as Joe entered the room. With tears in his eyes, Joe rushed to kneel by her bedside. “I am here, mother,” Joe quietly stated.

Rachel turned her head to face the direction of her son’s voice. “Joe, I want you to have this necklace. You know what it means to me,” she said in a faint voice while tapping the cross around her neck.

Rachel’s father gave her the cross before he passed away. It was a reminder to keep their faith alive. Now, she wanted to give it to her only son, so its symbolism continued.

Joe was more concerned for his mother than for the necklace. As he hesitated, he noticed her struggling as she tried lifting her hands to her neck to work at taking it off.

“I’ll get that for you, Mother,” Joe said as he reached over her and removed the necklace from her neck.

“Please, place it on now, Joe.” Rachel barely got the words out. He obeyed to save her from using any more of her strength by having to talk.

Joe quickly put the leather-stringed necklace around his neck. “Okay, Mother, I placed it on,” he responded as he fought back new tears.

He noticed her relaxing and letting out a deep breath. Initially, he thought she had passed, and fear gripped him, but he saw her chest rise and fall. Not wanting to be alone with her in her last moments, he fetched his father.

James hurried inside, and once again, held onto her one hand. He never noticed the cross Joe was wearing.

With her last dying breath, she whispered to James, “Please take care of Joe.”

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