Rube

The lifeless bloody infant lay on the cot between the knees of its mother in the one room cabin that Clarence and Ruby Alcorn had called home since their marriage of twelve years earlier.

Clarence and Ruby had discussed having a child many times during those twelve years, but they wanted to wait until times got better for them before starting a family.

After twelve years, Clarence and Ruby decided things were as good as they were going to get. They both agreed, it was time to start a family. Clarence and Ruby were extremely excited the day Ruby told Clarence she was pregnant and expecting around Christmas time.

As Clarence stood over the newborn infant, he was frightened and nervous at the sight that lay before him in a pool of blood. Both Ruby Alcorn and her new born infant were lifeless .

Outside he could hear the wind howling as the first ray of daylight made its way through the freshly ironed curtains that hung from the only window in the cabin, curtains made from the cloth of flour sacks.

Unknowingly to Clarence Alcorn, this was the start of one of the coldest and nastiest days Middle Tennessee would witness for many years.

Clarence knew it was bitter cold outside. He could feel the cold wind penetrating every crack in the cabin. He could also hear the wind whistling through the one hundred foot tall cottonwood trees fifty yards from the cabin where Clarence kept his canoe tied.

Beside the cot where the limp body of Ruby Alcorn lay, there stood a lighted candle on top of an orange crate that had been converted to a table, neatly wrapped on all four sides with the same flour sack material the curtains were made from. The candle flickered in unison with the wind gust outside. The candle had been burning all night as Clarence sat and held the hand of his wife.

When the labor pains became severe, Clarence would squeeze Ruby's hand tighter and grit his teeth as though he was experiencing as much pain as Ruby.

There was no doctor present. Clarence and Ruby would not have one, even if they could have afforded it.

Clarence was now wishing he was not alone. A doctor would be welcomed, but any ones presence now would offer moral support, which Clarence needed.

Without hesitation, Clarence grabbed the bloody mass from between Ruby's legs and holding it by both ankles with his massive left hand, swatted it across it's buttocks.

Nothing happened.
Clarence again hit the infant across the buttocks several times. The results were the same; the infant remained limp and lifeless. The only sound that could be heard was that of the wind.

Clarence broke into a sweat. The outside temperature was eighteen degrees, but Clarence was oblivious to everything except the bloody, lifeless infant he held in his left hand.

Placing the baby back on the cot between its mother's legs, Clarence proceeded to the far side of the cabin, where standing in the corner were three rods and reels. He grabbed the first one he came to, an old stainless steel rod with a Langly Cast Rite reel with a full spool of black line. He quickly pulled off several inches of line and bit through it with his teeth.

Almost in a run, Clarence jumped back to the end of the cot and made two circles around the cord with the black line and secured it tightly with a double knot. Reaching into the right pocket of his bib overalls, he withdrew a Case knife and without hesitation, rolled the infant on its back and cut the lifeline that linked the baby and its mother.

Clarence dropped the knife on the cabin flood and picked up the infant and ran out of the cabin clutching the small body close to his chest and headed toward the big cottonwood trees and the river where his canoe was chained, bobbing like a cork in the high wind.

Clarence felt the sting on his face from the wind driven sleet as he exited the cabin. The ground was soggy and beginning to freeze from the plunging temperature. It had rained most of the night with the approaching front and now the rain had turned to sleet as the front raged through the state.

The bitter eighteen-degree temperature did not bother him as much as the sleet. The wind was blowing so hard, driving the sleet, it was almost impossible to see the cottonwood trees and the path to the river.

Pulling the baby closer to his chest, Clarence bowed his head to keep the wind driven sleet from his eyes, and in doing so was able to make out the outline of the well worn path that led to the river and the landing. He continued in a fast trot toward his tied canoe and the cold waters of the Cumberland River.

Approaching the tied canoe, Clarence tried to stop and step onto the bow. The river bank was too slick. Within seconds he was flat on his back sliding down the muddy bank into the cold green water.

As he saw the chain to his canoe go by, Clarence reached out with his right hand and grabbed onto it with all his might, still holding the baby with his left hand.

Within a split second, he was in water up to his neck. The baby was totally submerged.
With a death grip on the chain, Clarence pulled the infant up from the cold clear water and placed it on the bow of the canoe. He then pulled himself from the water and crawled past the baby into the canoe.

Standing once again, He picked the baby up to observe it. Its lifeless form with blood and water dripping from its small head reminded Clarence of a skinned muskrat. There was still no sign of life.

Clarence swung the baby over the side of the canoe and completely submerged it. Drawing it from the bone chilling waters, once again he began to spank the infant. He submerged the baby once again and quickly pulled it back into the canoe. This time, he hit it square in the middle of its small back.

He heard a whimper.
This was the first good sign he had seen all morning.
Clarence hit the baby three more times, once in the small of it's back and twice across its buttocks.
Suddenly the howl of the wind through the cottonwood trees was interrupted by the crying of a newborn baby on the banks of the Cumberland River.
Clarence turned the baby around several times as if he was inspecting a prize mink pelt. He checked its mouth to assure nothing was blocking its gasping for air.
Once the baby appeared to be breathing normally, Clarence raised it high over his head as if offering a toast to the swaying cottonwood trees and shouted loud enough to overcome the howling wind, 'Thank you Lord.'

Tucking the baby ever so close to his chest, he carefully stepped off the bow of the canoe.