Alwy had forgotten how hard it was to wait.

Alwy had forgotten how hard it was to wait.

He wasn’t worried – not really. Gunnie had said it would be all right, Githa had said it would be all right. And it had been all right the last times. 

And yet – surely it didn’t take so long? When he had gone out to check the sky he had found that it was almost dawn already. Githa and Gunnie had stopped talking hours ago, and now he would just hear a sharp cry from time to time when the pain got to be too much for even his brave little wife to bear.

He had offered to help.

He had offered to help. He had reminded them that he had helped lots of pigs and puppies and other animals to be born, but it seemed that there was something different about people. Or, at least, Githa wouldn’t hear of him coming in to the bedroom. Nor Gunnie neither. 

He would be happy even if he could only hold her little hand. For a while that evening, when her pains had first started, she had sat next to him on the step and laid her head against his arm, and they had watched the sun set behind the hills, and she would squeeze his hand every time a pain would come. Alwy thought that was real nice, even if it probably hadn’t been much fun for her. Gunnie never sat quietly with him like that at other times. She was real clever in her speech, but sometimes he liked her quiet too.

“Alwy? You can come in now,” Githa called softly from the door before disappearing into the bedroom again.

What was this? He wasn’t ready. He hadn’t heard a thing. Last time Gunnie had cried and cried. And Bertie and Wynnie had cried and cried too. Everything was so quiet in there. Alwy was afraid.

He crossed the room in two strides and stopped in the doorway. Gunnie was lying so still on the bed.

Gunnie was lying so still on the bed.

“Gunnie, why don’t you cry out?” he whimpered.

“Was you looking forward to that part, Alwy?” she grumbled wearily. “I wasn’t.”

“You’re not going to die, are you, Gunnie?”

“Die? Oh, Alwy,” she sighed. “Don’t worry about me. Don’t you want to see your boy?”

“Is he here?” Alwy asked, stunned. He looked around at Githa at last, and before he had a chance to see what she carried in her arms she had already thrust it into his.

It was a baby all right!

It was a baby all right! A wide awake baby!

“How come he don’t cry?” he asked Githa.

“You want everyone to cry, Alwy?” Gunnie said.

“He’s a very polite baby,” Githa smiled. “He just coughed once or twice and then thanked me sweetly.”

“He did?” Alwy breathed.

“No, Alwy,” she laughed. “That was a joke. He just didn’t feel the need to cry, I guess. You can see he’s breathing just fine anyway.”

“Does he have everything he is supposed to have?” he asked Githa anxiously.

“Well, take him into the light and look at him, Alwy!” Gunnie cried. “You know what a baby’s supposed to look like.”

“That’s a fine idea!” he agreed.

Alwy took the baby around the bed next to the candle and inspected him.

Alwy walked around the bed with the baby and inspected him next to the candle. Alwy wasn’t very quick about counting, but the fingers and toes looked about right. He took a peek in the little diaper to make sure that it really was a boy – it was.

“It’s really a boy!” he announced to Gunnilda.

She sighed, but she smiled at him.

“I know he is, Alwy,” she sighed, but she smiled at him. “He looks just like you, too. Are you happy?”

“Well, I guess I am!” he cried. “He’s the nicest boy I ever seen! And he can be a priest, too, can’t he?”

“If he’s a good boy,” she laughed, and then moaned softly.

“Say, that’s so. I have to remember to teach him how to be extra good.”

“Alwy, why don’t you take the baby into the front room and get acquainted?” Githa suggested. “I have to take care of Gunnie.”

“Just a moment, Githa, I have to ask her one thing!” he said excitedly. “I almost forgot!”

'I have to ask her one thing.'

“What, Alwy?” Gunnie whimpered.

“Gunnie, I had an idea a while ago. I said to myself, if this boy is a boy, said I, I want to name him Egelric.”

“Oh, Alwy,” she sighed, closing her eyes and turning her face away.

“Can I? He’s my good friend.”

Gunnie thought for a moment. “He’s your boy,” she said finally.

“Well, I guess he’s your boy too…”

'I guess he's your boy too.'

“Go, Alwy,” she said.

“All right, Gunnie. I want to take him out by the fire and have a good look at him. But you tell me when you want to see him! I’ll bring him in.”

“Go, Alwy,” she repeated.

“All right, Gunnie. Come with me, young Egelric. I have to tell you a few things about how to be a good baby. But you got a real good start so far.”

'Come with me, young Egelric.'