Page 1 of Praying for Thunder

ONE

THE MEANING OF EVERLASTING

Even though some of what I must tell you is sad, even downright gruesome at times, I hope you can feel the smile on my face, because it’s here. On my lips as much as in my heart. You see, there would be different women in and out of my life, but only two would have the ultimate power to shatter me. Eventually, against their will, both of them would do just that. Yet all they wanted was for me to have happiness.

Isn’t that a gift inside a curse?

They felt they were helpless to stop the wheels of fate, not realizing they had endless power. Deeper than the deepest of all the oceans. Their love for me was everything I needed to survive. Their love was… everlasting.

So, who were these two awe-inspiring women?

Can true divinity be explained in one sentence? Not if you ask me. That’s why I need you to sit back and get ready for—well, I guess you need to get ready for… thunder.

It was said that lightning crashed all through the skies on the night I was born. My mother was holding her swollen belly with one arm, while the other clung around her dear friend’s shoulders as they ran across a muddy field. The North Carolina rains had been heavy that summer. The ground was saturated and slippery, yet nothing but delivering a baby would stop the two women who knew their lives were in jeopardy.

“Tell me if we have to stop!” Anita demanded in Spanish, as she tried to keep supporting her pregnant friend. She readjusted the duffle bag on her shoulder that she couldn’t stop peering over for fear of getting caught.

They both spoke English, but Rosa’s only response was a deep moan. Another strong contraction struck, slowing her considerably, yet she forced her feet to take a few more steps.

Knowing this night was spiraling, Anita cursed herself for not insisting they try to escape sooner. She thought they had more time to prepare: pack and sneak money from the ones who held them captive. But this baby was coming a month early. Now, they had no choice but to run. This infant, if it fell into the wrong hands, meant certain death.

“Ahhhhhh!” wailed Rosa, right before her knees buckled and she dragged Anita to the soggy ground. Even in detrimental pain, this mother-to-be quickly rolled to her back, crying, “I’m so sorry.”

Leaving the duffle bag where it lay, Anita scurried to place herself between Rosa’s already bent knees. “Family doesn’t apologize when in need.” Anita struggled to see in the dark but was sure there was blood dripping down her friend’s weakening thighs.

She was correct.

Lightning lit the sky long enough to reveal how dire this deadly evening had become.

Rosa cried, “If they find us, you may never see your blood family again!”

Anita couldn’t think about those two sweet babies. She had another one to protect right now. After quickly pulling back her long black hair, she removed white—now soaked in crimson—maternity pants from Rosa. Then, she begged her shaking hands to catch the baby entering the cruel world she lived in.

Rosa was panicked yet doing her very best to peer between her trembling naked thighs. “You see him?” She had received no true healthcare to speak of, therefore had no knowledge of the baby’s sex, but she was a religious woman. She said God had sent her a dream of a little boy. She claimed God would give her the son she wanted in trade for the hard life she had been asked to live.

“I see,” swallowed Anita, “a head—”

From past Rosa’s head, something in the far distance captured Anita’s attention. She sucked in air when she realized it was flashlights. Men were searching the woods where the two women had just come from.

The horror on Anita’s face was all Rosa needed to see to understand time had run out. “Run.”

Anita snapped her dark eyes to her friend’s beautiful golden-brown ones. Then she growled, “No.”

Rosa’s tears mixed with rain. “This is due to my weakness. You are not to suffer. Now run.”

Every ounce of fight or flight mode screamed that Anita should do just that, but leaving her soul sister behind wasn’t an option her heart could handle. If this was the end, they would face it together.

“God will care for me. Go, Anita. His storm will shelter us—” Before Rosa could continue to argue, her eyes slammed shut and she groaned through a contraction that forced her to bear down to birth her son.

Anita was grateful for all the thunder that masked the sounds Rosa couldn’t contain. She’d always wanted to believe Rosa when she spoke of a higher power, but Anita was bitter. She felt no God would let any of His creations suffer like she had. Like Rosa was now, with her wet brown hair sticking to her strained face. Her full lips caught between her teeth to not cry out and alert those seeking their location.

Anita choked down a sob. She knew of the burn Rosa’s body was experiencing between her thighs. She knew of the miracle... She also knew it was all for nothing.

Appearing paler than seconds earlier, Rosa sighed. “Is there hair?”

Did Anita dare try to raise Rosa’s hopes? Was it cruel to tell her that ‘God’ had answered her prayers, only to witness them being ripped from her embrace?

Anita’s silence spoke volumes to Rosa, making her heart soar and break simultaneously. “It isn’t dark.”