Papa Bear

“God… how will I ever get through this?” 

“Harry, you’re talking like you’ve already lost me.”

The rain was heavy. My clothes weighed like stone and stuck tightly to my skin. My hair was dark and jagged from the rain. 

And Sabra’s skin was cold. Her white shirt was thinned by the wetness, and her large belly looked even more swollen because of it; perfectly round, with the shirt thin and wet. 

I reached out to it with my hand; but my rough fingers, just as cold, didn’t belong on her smooth skin. Instead I took her head in my arms, supporting her as she struggled to breathe. 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry for all the times I lost my temper, all the times I ran out when I was angry,” I started to sputter.

Sabra pinched me. 

“Stop- of course I forgive you. You speak as though I’m on my deathbed, and I don’t like it,”

She lifted her chin and smiled. 

“Be happy for me?”

I tried to smile back; but it was hard to look into her eyes. They were hidden among so many gray lines. I held her tighter, as though any moment the rain was going to wash her away. 

She rested her head against my chest. 

“Everything will be okay. The baby,” she patted her belly, “Will be okay.” 

“Okay.” 

“Speak with more faith, Harry.” 

“... I can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“Sabra…” I looked down, and noticed her hands; they were shaking, and blue. I took a deep breath. 

“I want to face the worst of my fears while you are here to comfort me. I can’t pretend… I don’t have the strength to pretend, that I’m not scared.”

Sabra grew quiet then. 

“Then speak your heart.” 

And I did. I poured out my soul to her and she nodded patiently. My fears; my aches, my pains, until the tears and the weight in my chest left me numb. 

The stone underneath my legs was growing colder; we were in the mouth of a cave, you see. I had tried to rush Sabra to a midwife, when I had slipped in the rain… 

Sabra was too weak to walk the ten miles left. And my leg had snapped under the fall. 

“We can deliver the baby here,” Sabra said again, “Many babies have been delivered without a midwife.” 

“Not with your condition. Most women they, they die in your condition.”

Her eyes looked angry at me then, and turned away. But her voice grew soft.

“I love you.” 

My voice cracked as I struggled to speak.

“I love you too.” 

Her shoulders relaxed; and I pressed my body against hers, hoping to warm her. She looked off into the forest outside the cave. 

“You know how… the villagers hate the old stories, because the women in them were always helpless and weak? They were always too soft, people say. Wilting daisies. Never speaking up. Laying down and just… watching the world happen to them.” 

She turned to me, looking slightly amused. “Here I am. The same kind of woman they despise.” 

I shook my head, "You are the strongest of all women.” 

She laughed. “You think so?”

My voice grew louder, filled with certainty. “Yes.” 

She reached and held my hand. It was so delicate, cold; breakable. I was filled with a surge of self hatred, in that moment. That I couldn’t protect her. 

“Tell me more about this strong woman named Sabra,” She laughed quietly.

“She loves with all her strength,” I said thoughtfully, “she is brave. She is so confident she doesn’t need to flaunt, brag, or prove it. She just knows it.”

She nodded, “Keep going.” 

“She has so much light. She follows her dreams. She doesn’t let anyone dissuade her. And,” I smiled at her, “Her body is strong and magnificent; it creates and carries life. And her love for her baby is ferocious. More than a mama bear- her love is strong.”

“Yes,” she laughed again, “It is.” And it was that moment when she finally let herself cry. Her shoulders shook, and her body racked. She wrapped her arms around her belly. 

“I’m not afraid to die,” She admitted, “But... I’m afraid to leave behind such precious, vulnerable people.”

And there, that was it.

That was it; I had the strength in that moment. 

“Sabra, I’m going to take it.” 

Her crying stopped, abruptly. She gripped my hand, digging her nails into my palm. 

“No. Harry, no. We have no idea what that potion does. It’s just as risky as me giving birth in this cave.” 

“I’ll never forgive myself. If it could have worked.” I say desperately.

“That potion will turn you into an animal,” Her voice was getting louder.

“An animal with incredible strength!” I argued, “I could have enough strength to carry you to warmth and safety.” 

She was glaring at me. “Even in the best case scenario, I lose the man I love. You can’t put me through that.”

“You can’t put me through losing you either!”

She was shaking more now; at first I thought it was because she was angry, but no. She was cold. She spoke angrily, slamming her fists against my chest. But she began to fumble, and her words began to slur. Quickly, I couldn’t understand what she was saying, and I knew the cold was getting to her.

My own hands, numb, reached for the small vial in my vest pocket. I was shaking more now; nervous, scared, in panic. But as I opened the bottle, a calm came over me.

“I’m sorry, Sabra. For being so stubborn sometimes. Just like right now. But this is the only chance that I see. Please; trust me.” 

Scooping her into my arms, I tilted my head back, and took the potion. 

My heart rate increased as fur grew from my skin and my body enlarged. 

What am I? Was the question slamming repeatedly into my mind. The wizard who gave us the potion hadn’t said what animal it could transform you into.

Would I be able to carry her? That was all I cared for.

I was quickly wrapped with a great warmth, and an adrenaline like I had never before experienced. My mouth felt the strangest; teeth, a snout.

I'm... a bear. Dear God- this works, this works! 

I howled from joy, and tested out my legs. Healed. And then I began to run. I had never seen a bear run on their hind legs, but I was bounding through the forest at an incredible speed.

I will save you Sabra. I will save you. I will save you! 

I gently placed her down and knocked clumsily on the midwife's door. I darted away before I could be seen. 

I watched from the brush, breathing heavily as the midwife quickly picked up my frail Sabra with her own strong arms.

I got as close as I dared to watch from the window. I watched Sabra heal over the next hours, and I watched her give birth. Our baby, our baby is safe!

It was the happiest moment of my life. 

...I wish I could have been there. Inside the room, holding both of them. And as the night went onward, slowly turning into morning, a sadness overcame me. I looked at my claws; And I looked back at that window. I had saved Sabra, I reminded myself. I had saved her.

But Sabra's desperate pleas for me to not take the potion rang through my memory. I could already imagine her waking up, anger and pain etched in her face, asking where I was.

I laid down, my heart beating loudly against the muddy earth.

Together, Sabra had always insisted. No matter what, we do things together.

I hadn't listened again. I looked up, noticing Sabra's small hand closing a bedroom curtain.

I smiled sadly. It's not my fault, Sabra... It's not my fault I love you with all my strength.