Title: "Water Like a Stone" Author: Marilyn M. "Water Like a Stone" This story takes place the first Christmas after Neil and Christy's wedding. Disclaimer: Catherine Marshall's beautiful story of Christy is owned by the Marshall-LeSourd Family, L.L.C. We are in no way seeking profit or credit for her story. We are continuing the story of Christy for our own amusement only. Any additions in story line and characters were invented by the writers of the alt.tv.christy Round Robin and the Christy Mailing List. The content of each story is the responsibility of the individual writer. The fanfic here is being posted as a service to the Christy mailing list, Pax Christy Forum and Alt.tv.christy News Group. Chapter One "In the bleak midwinter, Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, long ago." Christy cut the last piece of wire and tightened it around the pine cone's base. She wrapped it around the circular pine bough, tucking in the edges so they would not be seen. Then she inserted toothpicks into the dried apples and placed them in between the cones. As an accent, she tucked cinnamon sticks beneath the apples. This is the last piece off the bolt of Christmas calico Mother sent, Christy thought as she tied a festive red and green bow and placed it on the wreath. I've made two braided rag rugs and Christmas curtains for the front windows. Mother will be so surprised when she sees what good use I've made of her gift. Christy hung the wreath over the fireplace mantel and stood quietly, admiring her handiwork. As the warmth of the fire reached the wreath, the fragrances of Christmas--pine, cinnamon and apples-- wafted over her. This will be the finest Christmas ever, Christy thought as she rearranged Neil's medical books and dusted the shelves one last time. Gingerbread made with Jeb's sourwood honey baked in the oven. Small tins of sage and thyme sat on the counter top, both ingredients in her mother's cornbread stuffing recipe. Christy heard the clock strike ten and reviewed the day's plans. Neil promised he'd be home by one-o'clock. After the train arrives in El Pano, Mother and Daddy have arranged for a buggy with driver to bring them to the mission. Jeb will meet all of us there with his wagon. We'll be home–together for Christmas Eve--by dusk. Christy went upstairs and smoothed the quilt on their bed. Neil had insisted her parents use their bedroom and had put two cots near the fireplace for them to sleep on. She parted the curtains and looked outside, hoping that her husband would arrive soon. Autumn had lingered, its cloudless, balmy skies delighting all who called the Great Smokies home. Even at the higher elevations, snow had yet to fall. But today, slate gray clouds banked on the horizon and the wind had shifted from its southerly direction. Now gusting hard from the northwest, it whipped the laundry drying on the clothesline. Christy grabbed a wicker basket and ran outside to retrieve the still-damp clothing. The skies opened and sleet pelted the ground, stinging her face. Clothespins popped off and two pillowcases fell to the ground. She scooped them up, threw them into the basket and hurried back inside. During the next several hours, the ice storm hurled from the heavens such ferocity as Christy had never seen. Ice bent the boughs of trees until they dragged the hoary earth. The windows glazed with ice, distorting every visible object. The pines groaned and cracked under the weight of their icy burden. By mid-afternoon, Neil had not arrived home and Christy had no idea where her parents might be. Christy put on her coat and, taking a container of salt, sprinkled a heavy layer over the porch and steps to melt the ice. As she watched in horror, the two pine trees from which she had used branches to make her wreath shuddered, then heaved from the earth, pulled out at their roots. Clods of dirt hung suspended by roots; their trunks crisscrossed one another like opened scissor blades. The wind's furious assault defied gravity; pellets of ice blew horizontally, clinging to every surface, no matter its texture. Surely the wind has blown the very world off-kilter! Christy thought, fighting panic. To the south, she could see the large oak tree, whose leaves shaded their cabin from the summer sun. It was now encrusted with hundreds of pounds of ice, threatening to destroy their home should it fall. Fearing to lose her sense of direction if she ventured any farther, she ran back inside and placed a heavy chair against the door so it would not blow open. Christy put another log in the fireplace and stayed close to its warmth, praying for her parents' and Neil's safety. Near dusk, the wind relented and for a short time, everything was still. "Christy! Christy! Help me!" The voice was muffled, inaudible had it not been for the lull in the storm. Christy threw on her coat, flung the chair backwards and stood on the porch. Neil was on horseback, shivering as he held a motionless figure wrapped in his blue woolen blanket. So much frost clung to his hair and eyebrows that she barely recognized him. "Neil!" she screamed, her heart pounding, "why are you sitting there in the cold? Come inside!" "My boots are frozen solid to my stirrups. I can't get down." "Can't you break free?" "If I move too much, I'll drop her. Put some water on to heat. Take some salt and cornmeal and make a trail out to me. Bring a table knife with you and prop the door open. Be careful–it's treacherous." After salting down the path, Christy returned with the teakettle. "Chip away the ice around my heel," Neil said. "When you feel movement, quickly pour the water over it. There, my right foot's free. Go around the other side. Good job. Now brace yourself against the hitching post. Take her head and shoulders when I dismount. You've got to help me carry her in." "Neil, she's pregnant! And there's blood all over your blanket! Who is this?" "Don't know. I found her unconscious about a mile from here. Now get your arms under hers and hold on. I've got her legs. Let's put her on the cot by the fireplace." The girl was coatless, clad in a tattered dress. As they struggled to the house, Christy saw her hemorrhage, the blood freezing within seconds after it stained the icy ground. Her brown hair was matted and frozen to her cheeks, her lips, blue tinged. When they were inside, Christy took shears and cut the girl's icy clothing from her. She removed Neil's gloves from her hands, but even so, her fingers had a waxen appearance, an early sign of frostbite. The girl appeared to be about sixteen and wore no wedding ring. Christy ran upstairs and returned with three blankets, two sweaters, and several towels. "Wrap her tightly. We've got to get her body temperature up," Neil said, fumbling with his medical bag as he searched for a thermometer. "Neil, you're shaking like a leaf." "That was the longest mile I've ever ridden," he said as pieces of ice melted and ran down his shirt. "How Charlie kept his footing, I'll never know. I'm so cold, Christy. Rub my hands so I can examine her." Tears filled Christy's eyes. "Praise God that you didn't slide right off the mountain." Christy unbuttoned Neil's shirt and dried his chest with a towel. "Put on both these sweaters." Then she took his hands in his, warming them with her touch. Suddenly, the girl moaned, writhing in pain. "Is she in labor?" Christy asked. "Is that why she's bleeding?" "I'm afraid so. On the way here, her contractions were roughly ten minutes apart. Even semi-conscious, she nearly strangled me, trying to fight the pain. I could barely hold her. I think my neck is bruised." Christy took a towel and gently cleaned the ice from the girl's hair and face. "Why are you out on Christmas Eve in this weather?" she whispered. "Where are the people who love you and your unborn child?" Compassion filling her, Christy pulled the other cot close to the girl and lay on it. She embraced her, trying to used her own body heat to warm her. Neil methodically dipped each surgical instrument into the pot of boiling water and laid them on a linen towel to dry. Most likely a first pregnancy, no pre-natal care. I'm used to these problems, he thought. Adding prolonged exposure to the cold meant a reduced rate of oxygen to the baby, stressing its fragile heart and pulmonary system. And would the mother, weak from hypothermia, have the energy to endure a prolonged labor and delivery? "You're going to be fine," Christy whispered, stroking the girl's cheek. "My husband will help you bring your baby into the world." As the fire blazed, the aromas of pine and cinnamon filled the room. Watching Christy comfort his patient, Neil's eyes filled with tears. Fearing the girl would choke if he took her temperature orally, he raised the her arm and tucked the thermometer under it. For a time, he knelt next to the cots, praying silently for God's guidance. Then he removed the thermometer. It read ninety-four degrees. He rose to his feet. "Christy--I've never delivered a baby to a hypothermic woman. Please--don't make promises I can't keep." Chapter Two "What can I give Him Poor as I am? If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb; It I were a Wise Man I would do my part, Yet what I can I give Him, Give my heart." "She's so tiny," Christy said from where she lay next to the girl. "I doubt she weighs ninety pounds." "What if the baby is large?" Neil paused. "We'll lose them both." Some time after midnight Neil said, "I'm going out to get some wood for the fire." Christy took a warm washcloth and lay it on the girl's forehead. "Our driest oak kindling," Neil said, returning with an armload. "It will burn the hottest. I've got to get her temperature up." "I'm worried about Mother and Daddy. Where do you think they are?" "If the tracks iced over, maybe the train stopped at Barnard or Hot Springs. If they arrived in El Pano, they wouldn't have tried to get to the mission." "What if . . ." "If the train de-railed, if that would happened, someone would have tried to ride here and fetch me, even in the storm. My presence–well, take that as a good sign, lass," he said, kissing her. "I always do," she said, smiling. Suddenly, the girl moaned. She pitched violently to her left side, nearly overturning the cot. "Hold her, Christy." Neil gently probed the girl's abdomen. "I think the baby is turned sideways. I'll do what I can to straighten it." "Ouch!" the girl cried as she felt pressure and movement within her. "Neil, she's awake." "Thirsty," the girl whispered, her lips cracked and parched. Her blue eyes searched the room, trying to focus on the surroundings. Spying a glass on the table, she gestured toward it. "No liquids--nothing by mouth," Neil said. "Christy, could you go outside and find some small, clean pieces of ice? She can let them melt in her mouth." Icicles, glittering in the moonlight, hung from the porch's eaves. The world, still thirsting for its Savior, hung in its orb, frozen and still. Christy watched the night wind stir the ice-gilded trees. With her arm outstretched, the icicle, now free to yield its nourishment, broke cleanly in her hand. "Ninety-seven degrees and three minutes apart," Neil said, measuring the odds of new life. I feel encouraged for the first time tonight." Christy broke a piece from the icicle and held it to the girl's lips. She lay on her side, resting between contractions. Color was returning to her face "Push! Now!" the girl gasped, strain in her voice. "It's time for your baby to be born," Neil said calmly, instruments in hand. "My wife and I will help you any way we can." "The baby's warm. Praise God," Neil said a half-hour later as he cradled the newborn in his hands. "See here–you have a fine baby boy." The child, weighing perhaps six pounds, had olive skin, black eyes–so rare for a newborn–and a full head of black hair. Then Neil turned the baby on its back and did something Christy had never seen him do before. He put the baby face down on its mother's belly. Then he placed his thumb at the base of the baby's neck where it joined his shoulders, and his fingers on the center line of the baby's spine. Gently, he ran his fingers straight up the baby's neck toward its head, stopping to knead a small ridge protruding there. This was not new to him. Compassion in his eyes, he looked at the child's mother. "Here it is–the Anatolian bump," he said, nodding his head. "Common to those people descended from the Anatole region of Turkey." Then he put the baby to its mother's breast so it could nurse. The girl began sobbing. "You hold him! I ain't feedin' this baby. I can't! You done found it, didn't you? His ridge. An' his skin an' eyes give it away. Now you know. Hit's Melungeon. His daddy is one." "Melungeon?" Christy asked. "What's that? " "Melungeons are descendants of Middle Eastern peoples such as Turks, Portugese, Jews and Arabs," Neil said. "They came to Appalachia as early as 1567. Possibly they descended from a group of Portugese who had been shipwrecked or abandoned on the Atlantic coast. No one really knows. They used to be classified as free people of color." "They ain't white an' that's all that counts," the girl sobbed. "Folks ‘round here treat ‘em like they was colored." Neil sat next to the girl and took her hand. The fire light so sharply focused upon the worry-lines of his face. "Tell me what happened. And what is your name?" "Maddie. Can I have a drink now? I'd be beholden." Tears welled in Christy's eyes. "Of course," she said and gave her water. "Your hands are warm now, Maddie. You were cold as ice before." Maddie stopped crying. Christy helped her to a sitting position. She took the glass, drank deeply, then wiped her lips with her hand. "Mama was tiny-framed like me. She died las' year, a'birthin' her fifth babe. She pushed and pushed–the baby couldn't come out an' she bled an' bled. I begged her to push harder, but she said she was give-out and was of a mind to rest. And she didn't push no more an' the babe died inside ‘er. Girl or boy, I don't know which. Pa took to drinkin' more after that an' the meanness just come outta him as quick as the likker went in. I'm the oldest--I tried to raise the young'uns, but nothin' I did was right. I didn't do like Ma did, he said." Drained from the effort, Maddie sank into the blankets and closed her eyes. "I see," Neil said, looking at the baby he held. "You need to rest and regain your strength." "Christy, let's go upstairs," Neil said. He and Christy sat on their bed. Christy took the baby and softly crooned a lullaby. "If she refuses to nurse this child within the first hour of its birth, it will mostly likely die," Neil said. "There's more to the story than she's told us. She's lost a lot of blood and needs to rest, but it's crucial we speak to her some more." "Maddie, wake up," Neil said, touching her shoulder. "My wife's going to help you into a clean nightgown. You'll stay warmer that way. I'll be upstairs with your baby." Christy helped Maddie to a sitting position and slipped the nightgown over her head. "You an' yer man got purty thangs here," Maddie said shyly as she stroked the satin ribbon adorning the gown. "But why do you have that tree a'settin' yonder, right in yer cabin? It has fancy doo-dads all over it. Be it for the birds to roost? I see berries an' popcorn an' sech a'strung all ‘round it." "It's a Christmas tree. Haven't you ever seen one?" "It's a pine tree, ain't it? What's Christmas? Some furrin' kind of tree?" "Maddie, Christmas Day is the when Jesus was born. Has your family never celebrated it? Have you ever been to church?" "Who's Jesus? That's a puzzlement. I ain't heard tell of him. I ain't never been nowhere but home ‘til yesterday." From upstairs, they could hear the baby whimpering. Lord-I haven't much time-help me explain You in a way that makes sense to Maddie, Christy thought and pressed on. "Maddie, Jesus is God's son. God is our heavenly Father. God loves all of us so much that he wanted to send someone we humans could understand and learn from. So he sent his son, born of a virgin, so we could experience His love for us. Do you see those pretty boxes under the tree? Those are gifts. We honor God's love by giving gifts to those we love." At the word "virgin", Maddie's eyes filled with tears. "I been with a Melungeon man from Hawkins County and I ain't married. John was so good an' kind to me, said he loved me more than anything. But I know I done wrong. I didn't want Pa seein' me deliver this half-breed baby. That's why I run away. I knew my time was comin'. I heard tell of a doctor man hereabouts. Thought mebbe I could find him." Praise God you did! Christy wanted to say but remained silent, not wanting to lose her trust. Both Christy and Maddie could hear Neil's voice as he tried to soothe the fretful infant. Soon, he came downstairs. The first rays of dawn were apparent, reflected in the ice-covered window panes. Time was running short. When Maddie saw her son crying, she broke down. Christy embraced her. "You can tell us the rest. Be strong for your baby." "You see, I reckoned I would die a'bornin' this babe, just like Ma did. Maybe it wouldn't come outta me an' just die inside. No one would ever see it. That would be best. But what if'n it lived and I died? Pa would see its color. He'd put my baby--alive an' squirmin'--into that bury-box with me an' bury us both in the ground. I had to run far away. He hates them Melungeons from Hawkins County worse than anything!" Christy put her hand to her mouth, stifling a gasp. One look at Neil's face told her that he bore sad witness to such depravity. "Maddie, does John know where you are?" "No. I didn't tell him. He'll be a'frettin' somethin' fearful. I run off without so much as a coat on my back." "Did he ask you to marry him?" "Yes, more'n once. Even a'fore I was pregnant." "Can you and he make a good home for your baby?" "John is twenty, four years older than me. Him an' his pa have a little shop where they shoe horses an' fix buggies. They eat fine ever' day, chicken and vegetables an' such." "Do you love him?" "Yes, rightly so." "Maddie, do you love your baby?" Neil asked. There was silence. "More than anything." she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Please, let me have him. If'n I don't put him to my breast, he'll die." "As soon as this ice melts, I'll go for John," Neil said as he placed the baby in its mother's arms. "You just tell me where he lives. He'll want to see his new son. What a fine Christmas gift!" The baby suckled noisily, burying his tiny nose in his mother's warmth. Maddie smiled, drawing her son more tightly to her. Maddie looked around the room, savoring the sights and aromas of Christmas. "This is the finest place I'd ever hoped to see. I'd like it best if'n you'd tell me more of God an' Jesus an' Christmas. God sounds like the best pa that ever could be. Deep in my heart, I know I could learn to love a pa like that. Jest good in every way--like that doctor-man I hoped to find." Christy smiled and went to the bookcase next to the fireplace. She took the Bible and opened it to the book of Matthew. "Maddie," she said, taking Neil's hand, "I'd like to introduce you to Dr. Neil MacNeill, my husband. God led you to the right place. Neil found you on the trail, just a mile from your destination. I'm Christy MacNeill, the teacher at Cutter Gap School. Let me read you the Christmas story. Once you hear it, you'll know how much God loves you and how you can give your heart to him." As the sun rose, the earth warmed and soon water dripped from every ice-covered surface. After eating a hearty breakfast, Maddie and her son slept peacefully. Christy put the turkey in the oven along with the sweet potatoes and cornbread stuffing. Then she and Neil went upstairs to rest. "Merry Christmas, girlie!" The voice, coming from the porch, was unmistakable. "Daddy! How did you get here?" "Why, Santa Claus here brought us in his sleigh," Mr. Huddleston said, turning to where Jeb Spencer sat in his wagon. "I'm so glad to see you and Mother," Christy said. "I was afraid your train might have derailed in this ice storm." "The storm skirted around Asheville," Mr. Huddleston said. "We arrived in El Pano just before it began and spent the night in Mrs. Tatum's boarding house, where you once stayed. When she found out who we were, she told us that she tried to warn you against coming to Cutter Gap but you were a stubborn young woman, determined to do good and make a difference here." "And that she has," Neil said, with a knowing smile as he put his arm around Christy. Just then water dripped from the eaves. Kerplop! Several large droplets landed on Christy's nose. Laughing, Neil kissed her. Neil and Jeb unloaded the gifts and luggage from his wagon. As they opened the door, everyone saw Maddie and her son, sleeping serenely next to the fireplace. "Look what the ice storm brought us," Neil said. "A new babe, and a mother's heart given to the best pa that could ever be." (First and last stanzas of the poem used are taken from "In the Bleak Mid Winter" by Christina Rosetti.)