 
DAVID SHATH SQUARE Chapter Twenty-eight
I rushed toward the cabin, dragging the heavy hide behind me. The snow was already eight inches deep. I slipped and slid back down the path several times before I gained the inside of the cabin.
Thoreena was on her knees next to the woodstove; she had dropped a frying pan of fish on the floor and was holding her stomach with both hands.
"Are you okay?"
"I don't know, Hardy. I was cooking the fish when I felt a sharp pain below my stomach."
"Do you think the baby is coming?"
"No. At least I hope not. She'd be too premature to survive."
"Then what do you think caused the pain?"
"I'm not sure. I've heard women talk about false labour, contractions that start before labour really begins. That's probably what it was, Hardy."
I thought about this. When it comes to women and babies and that sort of stuff, I'm not exactly Dr. Spock. Thoreena's explanation sounded plausible, but maybe she was just trying to keep me from worrying. When I was a kid my appendix had burst and I was rushed to hospital in Lac du Bonnet on the jitney. I remember hearing the doctor tell my grandfather that we had made it just in time.
What if Thoreena had a burst appendix? There wasn't a hope in hell that we could get her to a hospital in time to save her life. It wasn't hot in the cabin, but my armpits began to sweat and my muscles felt mushy.
"Thoreena," I said, trying to sound calm. "Where exactly did you feel this pain? Was it below your stomach on your right side?"
I could remember the searing pain that invaded my lower right abdomen like a hot poker.
"No. It was slightly to the left. It didn't last more than a second and it was gone."
I started to feel relieved. I'm no medicine man, but I did know from experience that my pain never strayed from my right side and once started it never quit hurting until they removed my appendix.
All this time, Thoreena had remained kneeling by the stove. I helped her to her feet and began to pick up the fish and put it back in the frying pan.
"Why don't you lie down," I said.
"Hardy, I'm not sick. Being pregnant isn't the same as being ill."
"I guess. But we've been working hard. A little rest wouldn't hurt."
"I don't need a little rest. I've never felt better in my life. And I've got a lot of things to do before the baby is born."
"Maybe I could do them for you?"
"Do you know how to sew?"
"No. But I could learn."
"We don't have that much time," she said, petulantly.
"You don't have to bite my head off. I was just trying to be helpful."
"I wasn't biting your head off."
"Well, you don't need to sound so damn irritable."
"I'm not irritable. You're the one who's irritable.
"Like hell I am," I said, slamming the frying pan on the stove as hard as I could.
"See, you are on edge," said Thoreena. "Maybe you should lie down."
I started to count to ten. I lost control at five and suddenly hurled the frying pan across the room. It put a dent in the cabin wall; steaming fillets of trout scattered across the floor.
"I am not on edge!" I said, trying to force open the front door which was firmly held shut by a drift of snow on the outside. There was no escape from the cabin.
Thoreena had slumped to the floor and started to cry.
As I stomped about the room looking for an escape hatch, I slipped on one of the fish.
It's difficult to remain angry when you've just slipped on a fish. As I lay on the floor contemplating our little cabin, it became apparent to me that our argument was not without foundation. We were both irritable because we were both worried. Up to now, we had had the option of returning to the Pointe and to safety. But the heavy snowfall had changed all that.
Now we were truly stranded in the wilderness with nothing to cling to but our wits and our intestinal fortitude. It was no longer a game that could be cancelled if the going got too rough. This was it. We were teenagers playing in an adult league where the outcome was life or death, depending on luck and qualifications.
I picked myself off the floor, walked over to Thoreena, and took her hand in mine.
"I'm sorry. I guess we've just had our first fight as a married couple."
"And we've been married less than a day," said Thoreena, who continued to sniffle but didn't turn my hand away.
"Rough start to a marriage," I said.
"I guess. But I'm glad we can fight. Couples who don't fight keep too much inside. It's good to let the emotions out once in a while."
That's one of the things I love about Thoreena. She can make you mad as hell one minute and then make you feel okay the next minute.
I sat beside her and continued to stroke her hand.
"Hardy, I am worried. That pain scared me. The blizzard scared me. We're really stuck now. I just hope we've made the right decision to remain here."
"I guess we're going to find out," I said.
We lay down together and slept. When I awoke, I think the blizzard had stopped because I could hear the cry of wolves hunting and I could imagine a clear, cold sky with the aurora borealis flaming among the stars. I drifted off to sleep again thinking of Thoreena and our baby girl. How did Thoreena know our child would be a girl? I decided that women just know these things...
To Chapter Twenty-nine
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