I was finally driven downstairs again, because Yom Kippur or not, Joe needed something in his stomach. Water dripped into a pot in the middle of the kitchen floor,plink, plink, plink.Mrs. Stark came into the kitchen, stopped short, and said, inmuch distress, “But that’s the chicken soup for tonight, to break the fast!”
“I’m very sorry,” I said, not stopping in my buttering of toast, “and I’ll gladly forego my portion tonight if it helps, but Joe must have something to eat. Liquids are very important with fever, and chicken soup is best of all, for it has salt, which is also important. Yes, I know it’s a holy day, but God will surely understand.” And here was Sophie again, saying,“Honestly,Mother, why must you be so hidebound?”
I went back upstairs with my tray, and it was quiet for a while until I heard David’s voice outside our door. “It’s not time yet for the hospital, Mother Stark,” he said. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s better for her to walk, so we can move things along. Come on, Barbara. Let’s get you dressed and walking.”
Barbara said, “Walk? I don’t want to walk. Are you crazy? Thishurts!You said the drugs would take away the pain. Where are they? At the hospital? Then let’s go to the hospital.Now.”
David again. “It’s not time yet. You’ll feel better when you’re dressed and walking. Women have been having babies for hundreds of thousands of years, Barbara. Yes, I know, but Iama doctor.”
Barbara’s voice, hardly recognizable.“I … Want … Those … DRUGS!”
Mrs. Stark: “Oh, for heaven’s sake, David, take her to the hospital. Yes, I’m sure thatiswhat the experts say, but haveyouever had a baby? Then how do you know her pain is manageable?”
Mr. Stark: “If you don’t take her to the hospital in the next fifteen minutes, I’m driving her myself. Wait. Who did the crossword? Sophie, it’s a day of rest! A day ofREST!”
And Sophie: “Well, excuse me for living. It’s not exactly restful around here, you know.”
At eleven, the plumber came, along with his helper. Bootedfeet up and down the stairs and a fair amount of sawing and clanking, and then I heard David say, “Come on, Barbara. That’s it. This way.” And Barbara saying, “I’m not a child, and I’m not interested in talking to you. I’m so mad right now, I could spit.”
Mrs. Stark called down the stairs, “We’ll be right behind you! We’re coming, darling!”
Mr. Stark said, “Wouldn’t it be better to wait at home? Why should we sit in that waiting room all afternoon? I did that when you were in there with Barbara, and it took hours. By the time she showed up, I was a nervous wreck.”
Mrs. Stark, a definite snap in her voice:“Youwere a nervous wreck? Pardon me? What wasIdoing at the time?”
Mr. Stark again: “You had ether. The doctor told me.”
Mrs. Stark: “Yes, at theend.But how about before that? How wasthatfor me, do you think?”
And Mr. Stark, roaring a bit now: “How would I know? When have you ever told me?”
The plumber said, “First baby, is it? My wife’s had three. Pops ’em out like grapes. The attitude’s the thing. Make your mind up that it doesn’t hurt, and there you are.”
“Nobody asked you,” Mrs. Stark snapped.
“Excuseme,”he said. “Only trying to help.”
“You canhelp,”she said, “by fixing the leak.”
“It’s fixed,” he said. “You’ll want to get somebody in to replaster the wall, though.”
“Why aren’tyoudoing it?”
“I’m just the plumber, lady. Not a plasterer. That’ll be $3.40.”
“When you haven’t even fixed the wall?”
“Like I said. $3.40.”
“Fine.” Quiet for a minute, then: “Jacob? Do you have two dollars?”
“What?” he called up from downstairs.
“Two dollars,” she called back. “I don’t have enough.”
I got up, took Joe’s wallet from the bedside table, and went outside to hand her the bills.
“Thanks, miss,” the plumber said. “Say, is it Pajama Day, or what?”
