In the Land of the Long White Cloud

Helen. And Gwyneira was certain to be more reassuring to Helen than the wailing Dorothy.
    So Gwyneira wiped down the kitchen and made a new pot of tea, which she brought to Helen in bed. She was now having regular pains. Every few minutes, she screamed and tensed up. Gwyneira took her hand and spoke to her in comforting tones. An hour passed. Where was Dorothy with Matahorua?
    Helen did not seem to notice that time was passing, but Gwyneira became increasingly nervous. What if Dorothy really had gotten lost? After more than two hours, she heard someone at the door. Gwyneira was initially terrified, but it was only Dorothy, who was still crying. She had not brought Matahorua as planned, but Rongo Rongo.
    “She can’t come!” Dorothy sobbed. “Not yet. She…”
    “Another baby comes,” Rongo explained placidly. “And is hard. Is early, mama sick. She has to stay. She say, Miss O’Keefe strong, baby healthy. I should help.”
    “You?” Gwyneira asked. Rongo was no more than eleven years old.
    “Yes. I already seen and helped
kuia
. In my family many children,” Rongo said proudly.
    To Gwyneira, she was not the optimal midwife, but she had more experience than any other available girl or woman.
    “All right, fine. What do we do now, Rongo?” she inquired.
    “Nothing,” the little one answered. “Wait. Lasts hours. Matahorua says, when ready, comes.”
    “That’s a real help,” sighed Gwyneira. “But all right, we’ll wait it out.” She didn’t know what else to suggest.
    Rongo was right. It took hours. Sometimes it was bad, and Helen screamed with pain; then she would calm down, seemingly able to sleep for a few minutes. Starting in the evening, however, her pains became stronger and came at shorter intervals.
    “That normal,” remarked Rongo. “Can I make syrup pancakes?”
    Dorothy was horrified that the little one could only think of food, but Gwyneira didn’t think it was a bad idea. She was hungry too, and maybe she could even convince Helen to have a bite.
    “Go help her, Dorothy,” she commanded.
    Helen looked at her desperately. “What will happen to the baby if I die?” she whispered.
    Gwyneira wiped the sweat from her brow. “You’re not going to die. And the baby has to be here first, before we can worry about what to do with it. But where’s that Mr. O’Keefe of yours? Shouldn’t he be back by now? Then he could ride to Kiward Station and say that I’ll be coming back later. Otherwise, they’ll worry about me.”
    Helen almost laughed despite her pain. “Howard? Easter and Christmas will have to take place on the same day before he’ll ride to Kiward Station. Maybe Reti…or one of the other children…”
    “I wouldn’t let her on Igraine. And that donkey doesn’t know the way any better than the children.”
    “He’s a mule,” Helen corrected her, then moaned. “Don’t call him a donkey or he’ll hold it against you.”
    “I knew you’d love him. Listen, Helen. I’m going to lift up your nightgown and look underneath. Maybe the little one is already sticking his head out.”
    Helen shook her head. “I would have felt that. But…but now…”
    Helen buckled under a new pain. She remembered Mrs. Candler saying something about pushing, so she tried and groaned with pain.
    “It might be that now…” The next pain came before she had a chance to finish. Helen bent her knees.
    “Goes better when you kneel down, misses,” Rongo remarked with a full mouth. She was just entering with a plate of pancakes. “And walking around helps. Because baby has to come down, you see?”
    Gwyneira helped a moaning, protesting Helen onto her feet. She only managed a few steps before she collapsed from the pain. Gwyneira lifted Helen’s nightgown while she knelt and saw something dark between her legs.
    “It’s coming, Helen, it’s coming! What should I do now, Rongo? If it falls out now, it’ll fall onto the floor.”
    “Won’t fall out so quickly,” Rongo said, stuffing another pancake in her mouth. “Mmmm. Tastes good. Mrs. O’Keefe can eat as soon as baby here.”
    “I want to get back in bed,” Helen wailed.
    Gwyneira helped her back into bed, though she did not think it very smart. It had clearly gone more quickly when Helen was standing upright.
    But then there was no more time for reflection. Helen let out another shrill cry, and the little dark crown that Gwyneira had seen became a baby’s head pushing out into the open air. Gwyneira recalled the