Death and Life Come to the Bede House

Death was coming to the Bede house, but Father Zachary did not yet know it. It was nearly dawn, and he sat alone in the front room. He was very tired. From his bedroom, he could faintly hear the sounds of movement, of footsteps and hurried speech. Occasionally there was a gasp or two that might have been Maria, but otherwise he had no idea what what going on behind the closed door. Just as he was beginning to fall asleep, he heard the sound of an infant's reluctant cry. His eyes snapped open and he came to stand by the door. He wished he could come in, he wished he could see the child, but all he could hear was Dr. Pershing and his wife moving hurriedly around the room.
"A swab, Janet," Dr. Pershing was directing their maid.
There was more clatter and then, "You could bring him out, now."
There were sudden footsteps towards the door and it was thrown open. Mrs. Pershing held a baby in her arms. She pushed him back before he could see more than a glimpse of Maria. "It's a boy!"
It was, a small, pale one with surprisingly pale hair. Father Bede took him.
"How is she?""Maria? Tired. Let us clean her up and then you can see her."
His anxiety must have been evident, for she said, in a kind, managerial sort of tone, "Why don't you show him to Maria's aunt? She would love to see him..."
Father Bede nodded carefully, the warm, wet weight of his son in his arms. Elijah, they had agreed.
Aunt Wilcox had been sent to bed around midnight on the pretense that the baby wasn't coming any time soon. This was really an excuse to get her and her senseless chatter out of the way, but she had swallowed it easily enough and gone to bed. Father Bede thought this was just as well considering Maria's state during her heaviest labor with Matthew. It was best to get her aunt out of throwing range. Come to think of it, he wondered why there had been no such fury this time.
He came into the room quietly, for he had no free hand to knock and did not want to call out for fear of waking the baby now sleeping on his shoulder. But Maria's aunt lay sound asleep, and so he called out to her. "Aunt Wilcox?"
There was no response. For a moment he thought to call her by her Christian name, but then the odd feeling that had been floating around the tired mist in the back of his brain hit him fully.
Aunt Wilcox was a terrible snorer, so much so that he and Maria could hear her from their room. The room was perfectly quiet now.
All at once he understood. He did not have to come closer, or even to touch her, though he would have found her cold. There was something about the stiffness of her features and the limpness of her body that told him.
"Oh, I suppose you can come in now," said Mrs. Pershing. She was fussing with the pillows on their bed. Maria was looking tired but otherwise fine as she lay on one side of it. She was indeed only tired, and he smiled at her in relief. Better yet, she smiled back. Father Bede handed Elijah to Mrs. Pershing. He turned to the Doctor.
"Could I speak to you outside?" he murmured.

It would be a be a busy day for the doctor and a busy week for him.