Instead of digging another tunnel for the chickens, we decided to have Joey make a cage outside to start keeping the chickens that laid. My brother was stocky; about 5’ 10” and 185 lbs. He had dark brown hair and piercing, grey –blue eyes. He had a long-time girlfriend that he found out was cheating on him just about six weeks before the strike had happened. She had met someone on the Internet and she had moved to Texas to be with him. I think Joey was still reeling from it all. I watched him, quietly collecting young branches that were still soft and weaving them together.
I helped as often as I could. There were only five chickens altogether, and three chickens in a cage shouldn’t attract any overhead attention. If somebody stumbled upon our camp, that would be a different story.
Another week passed. The stream still hadn’t yielded any fish, and we had a few more weeks before the rabbits would be big enough to eat. Ian and Joey decided to take the fishing poles, along with a few supplies and scout the streams until they could find some fish. Even if they were gone overnight, it would be better than staying close to the cave and starving.
As soon as they set off, I decided that we were going to wash our bodies. I gathered a few things and left a couple hours later, during the warmest part of the day. The stream wasn’t that far, and as soon as we got there I made the boys strip down and wash. It was cold, and they were complaining, but we all needed to take care of ourselves. If we didn’t start washing on a regular basis who knows what kind of issues we would have. My grandpa had led us to the spot, so he took the boys away so I could also wash off. It felt nice to be clean.
While washing I examined my belly. I was still very small, even though I was almost thirty-five weeks, and I hadn’t been feeling the baby move as much as I knew it should. I didn’t know what I could do about it. I dressed quickly and tried to put it out of my mind.
On our way back I started contracting hard again. I hadn’t thought about it but this was the most work I had done in a long time. I had to stop several times to wait until the contractions passed. I saw Seamus watching me, his little eyes wide open. He seemed like he barely spoke anymore, and I felt like this couldn’t be good for him to see.
The contractions didn’t stop when I got back. They just got worse. My grandpa decided to start a fire for extra heat.
After a few hours, as night was beginning to fall, I knew the baby was coming. My water broke, and I thought about the fact that even though I was premature, we were pretty much out of the danger zone. I just wished Ian would get back in time, even though I knew he probably wouldn’t.
We sequestered my dad and the two boys in the back of the cave, and me, my grandpa, my mom, and sister were in the front, where the living area was. I couldn’t believe this was happening. It was so surreal, so much like a strange dream that I would soon wake from.
Sometime, deep in the middle of the night, the little guy was born. The labor wasn’t horrible, probably due to the fact that he was far smaller than he should be at this stage. He was tiny. So tiny, I started crying. Something wasn’t right.
I tried to nurse but he seemed like he was having a hard time latching on. My grandpa opened a can of evaporated milk and started dribbling drops in his mouth and the baby swallowed some of that. Grandpa said he thought the baby was between 3 and 4 pounds. I didn’t even feel like we could name him without Ian here. I laid back and tried to get some rest, trying to squelch the feeling of dread that I had.
We continued alternating between trying to get him to nurse and my mom feeding him the evaporated milk. I tried to express milk with my hand because I knew if I didn’t produce we didn’t have enough of that evaporated milk to keep him going.
Midway through the day, Ian and Joey returned with half a dozen small fish. Of course we were all elated to see them, and happy they had brought back food. Ian was in shock that the baby was here. He kept looking at him and I could see how concerned he was about the baby’s small size.
Always the optimistic one, he put a smile on and started talking about names. We decided on Liam, and instantly my mom started calling him ‘Little Liam’. We had a delicious fish dinner, and Joey told us where they found a spot that seemed to be promising. This was a double blessing, because the fish bones also provided us a flavorful broth for roots and canned food.
It was now mid-December. The nights were beginning to get pretty cold along the California coast, and Christmas was fast approaching. I marked the occasion in my mind, but I didn’t know if we should even bring it up. If the boys were expecting something grand it would just be horribly disappointing, or we could try and make a small celebration with the things we had. I opted for the second choice. I began secretly planning with my mom and Lisa for a special meal, and what we could do for small gifts.
My mom, always able to make something out of nothing, came up with a few things we could do for gifts. She had often made small handcrafts for parties or get togethers, and had a knack for making something out of nothing. She was just over five feet tall and she had crazy dark brown hair that she frequently dyed dark red. Determined, I could see it in her green eyes that she wasn’t going to let the circumstances get her down.
A week passed, and Little Liam didn’t seem to be doing any better. He drank a little bit here and there, but he didn’t put on any weight. We still couldn’t get him to nurse, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep a good supply if he didn’t start eating. I had continued squeezing out milk with my hand and we were feeding it to him with a cloth.
The whole thing wasn’t working out very well. We had no way to preserve the milk, and whatever he didn’t eat that day had to be thrown away. He looked so helpless. He reminded me of a little baby bird with no feathers, transparent skin, and eyes that are too big for its body.
On his eighth day of life, my brother, Joey, volunteered to head to the city the guys had found and see if he could find some help for the baby. I knew he was having a hard time watching Liam struggle, so we agreed it would be best if he went to find help. He packed a few supplies and left his other things in the back of the cave, covered with a tarp.
The next day Ian and my Dad let us know it was the chosen day to reunite, being December 21st, it was exactly three months since the Strike. If they didn’t go they would miss the opportunity to see if anything had developed, and this would be their only chance to get some information on what was going on.
I assured Ian they should go ahead and go, Joey would be back within two days to let us know if he had been able to find someone to help with the baby. Ian and my dad should be back within four days, which would be on Christmas day. I decided to go ahead with our preparations, using the time while they were gone to finalize our secret plans.
My grandpa left that afternoon to see if he could find the fishing spot the guys had, and the girls stayed back to take care of the kids. My sister took the two older boys out a couple times a day to look for berries, roots and herbs that we could eat, and they also checked on grandpa’s garden.
She came back to report that several things were growing well, and even though it would be a few months before they started yielding, it was a good start. Every little bit helped at this point.
Grandpa came back that night stating that he was unable to find the fishing hole, but he had found another spot and brought back a few small fish and some sort of mussels. I stared at the mussels. They looked like furry, slimy donuts. I didn’t know if I could stomach that.