Quickly he turned away and Dr. Holt handed the child to one of the nurses who placed it into the standard nursery plexiglass bassinet. As soon as the newborn was let loose from confining hands it spread its grayish wings and shook loose the blankets. It screamed and cried and thrashed.
With wide eyes, Dennis watched the nurses as they wheeled the screeching infant from the room and down the hall. He stayed firmly rooted to his place beside the bed. He looked at his wife’s hand in his own.
“My baby,” she breathed. “I want to see my baby!” She was groggy from the pain medicine still flowing through the IV.
One of the nurses gave Dennis a sympathetic look. She came to the bedside and mercifully rescued him. “We’ve taken the baby to be tested and checked out, okay sweetie? This is a very ... unusual case, so we need to take precautions. The doctor will return in a minute. How are you feeling?”
“Sore. So tired.”
“Okay, we’ll get you taken care of. Hang in there.”
They attended to Alison and Dennis got shuffled away in the periphery of the action, just a spectator, barely there at all. He might as well have been a ghost in the corner.
22.
With Alison sleeping at last, Dennis wandered through the quiet corridor that was peopled only with an occasional nurse, a tired looking father-to-be, and an orderly or two. It was late and the maternity ward was peaceful—for the time being. He found himself standing in front of the big picture window that looked into the nursery. Babies rested in swaddled rows, sleeping. A solitary nurse sat in a rocker, rocking one baby to sleep. Hands in his pockets, he stood there, slumped, watching the sleeping babies—wondering what it would be like to stand here and stare at a son or daughter and feel pride and excitement, exhilaration and happiness. Instead his eyes traveled to the empty bassinet that bore the placard: Walker. He had signed the permission papers to allow the doctors to remove the wings and tail formations from their “child.”
Wings.
What else could he call them? The tail could be explained away as a deformity of the spine. How does a doctor explain away two bat-like wings complete with talons on the edges? There was no explanation for that and the doctors and nurses didn’t try to come up with one. Everyone involved knew that whatever was going on with this baby, wasn’t normal, wasn’t explainable, and Dennis knew, wasn’t human.
The blood tests had showed an “anomaly.” That’s what Dr. Holt called it. How did he ask if they had a DNA match with a demon? Dennis sighed and turned away from the window.
Alison would be pissed that he went ahead with the corrective surgery without consulting her first; but, damn it, this baby was his responsibility too, and she wasn’t in the emotional position to make these sorts of decisions in a timely fashion. If at all.
Shoulders slumping, he shuffled to the waiting room to await the doctor’s report following the surgery. He slid into one of the plump chairs and picked up a months-old magazine. Thumbing through it, he was greeted with page after page of cherubic baby faces, diapers, toys, and formula advertisements. He slung the magazine back onto the table and ran a hand through his hair.
The doctor entered the room. Dennis looked up expectantly.
“Dennis?”
“How did it go?”
“Dr. Samuels was successful in removing the appendages from the scapula and the deformity of the spine turned out to be simpler than we first thought. The spinal cord wasn’t involved, and we were able to neatly sever the tail where the tailbone should be.”
Dennis let out a loud gust of air. “That’s good, I guess.”
“Is Alison awake yet?” Dr. Holt asked.
“No. It’s better that she sleeps. This has been…a lot.” Dennis sighed. “So, the baby, I didn’t even ask, what is it?”
“Well, that’s why I wondered if your wife was awake. I wanted to tell both of you together, but...the child is a hermaphrodite. We found evidence of both ovaries and testicular tissue. Currently, it has ambiguous genitalia. That could change as the child ages, with one sex developing more predominantly over the other.”
Dennis stared hard at the doctor. A terrible feeling had spawned deep inside him.
“I have a specialist I’d like you and Alison to visit. Dr. Samuels feels that with the help of this doctor you and Alison can make decisions that will be best for your child.”
“What kind of decisions?”
“Well, some couples choose to raise the child as a girl or a boy depending on which gender features the baby possesses more of—some parents decide to wait until the child is older and take a wait and see approach.”
“See what happens?” Dennis frowned.
“Like I said, Dennis, it’s very complicated. The specialist can help you and Alison through this.”
“What about the additional surgeries?”
“We have a series consultation appointments set up for you. You’ll need to get with the nurse at my office to confirm the schedule will work, but your baby needs quite a bit of attention right now. Two more issues need to be addressed; the child has a tongue with a split end, which can be easily repaired. The matter of the stomach is more severe.”
“What’s wrong with the stomach?”
The doctor took a deep breath before he replied. “Well, digestion seems to occur abnormally. In fact, it’s almost as if the formula is pouring straight through the child with no digestion at all. Bowel and urine functions seem to be normal as are kidney and bladder functions, which have us baffled. We’ve also called a pediatric gastroenterologist to come in and take a look.”
Dennis looked at him and blinked.
“I know this is difficult to process all at once.” The doctor smiled, but the smile seemed forced, uneasy, confused as hell.
“When can we go home?”
“Alison is free to leave in twenty-four hours, the baby can go home in forty-eight. We want to make sure there is no infection on the surgical sites and that the baby is thriving. But,” Dr. Holt lightly gripped Dennis’s arm when he spoke. “I’d really recommend keeping this child here for a week or more, under the circumstances. Then, we’ll arrange for an in-home care facility to send a visiting nurse to your house daily until you and your wife feel you can handle the child’s care adequately on your own.”
Dennis nodded. “Well, I think that we should keep the baby here as long as we need to. I want to make we’ve done everything we can to make sure he, or she, has a chance to survive.” He smiled weakly.
“I wish there was something more I could tell you.”
“I know. I understand, doctor. I appreciate everything you’ve already done.” Dennis stood again and shook the doctor’s hand.
“Okay, then. I’ll let you get back to your wife. The baby will be out of the ICU in about six hours and then you should be able to look in on him.”
“Thank you again, doctor,” Dennis said and followed the doctor from the room. Dennis made his way back to Alison. Half wishing she’d still be asleep. Half wishing she’d be awake so he could tell her about the baby and just get it over with. He stood there watching her sleep. She was restless.
As if sensing him there, she opened her eyelids in a flutter. “Oh, God, I hurt. When can I have some more pain medicine?”
Dennis smiled. “Want me to go ask?”
“Yeah. No, wait. How’s the baby? Where is he—she? Wait. What is the baby?” she said, laughing. “I don’t remember what the baby is! Damn drugs!”
Dennis smiled again. “We have to talk about that, honey.”
Alison moved her bandaged hand over her eyes and rubbed her temple. “What do you mean we have to talk about that? Is it a boy or a girl?”
Dennis sighed. “It’s both.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
“The baby—it’s a hermaphrodite.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Dennis?” Alison’s voice squeaked.
“The doctors found both female and male characteristics in the
baby, among other things.”
“Among other things? What other things? The deformities that we knew about?”
“Yes, and some other internal abnormalities.” Dennis pulled the chair closer to Alison’s bed and sat. “The doctors have some specialists they want us to see.”
“Specialists?” Her voice had a far-off sound to it—an air of disbelief, surrealness settled over her.
“But, there’s plenty of time to talk about that later. You need to concentrate on getting your strength back. Doctor says you can go home in twenty-four hours.” Dennis gave her a weak smile.
“What about the baby? When can he go home? She? Oh, Dennis, what do we even call the baby?”
“The baby can go home in forty-eight hours, but Dr. Holt recommends keeping it here for the full time allotted by insurance, under the circumstances. I agreed. After the baby’s out the doctor said they’ll send an in-home care nurse over every day until we feel comfortable taking care of the baby on our own.”
Alison frowned. “I can take care of a baby by myself.”
“This isn’t just any baby, Ali.”
She frowned again. “I can’t...I can’t deal with this right now. I hurt…I’m too tired.”
“It’s okay, Ali. Get some rest. I’m going to go check on that pain medicine for you.”
He rang the call button and buzzed the front desk.
23.
Due to the unusual nature of the medical case the insurance company allowed Alison to stay in the hospital an extra day. Against the doctor’s wishes, Alison insisted on taking their child home. Dennis, who stood nobly by with a flushed face, bit his tongue and stood behind her decision. No matter how hasty she seemed, she needed his support right now more than anything. She refused to leave the baby here “like a freak for these people to study and ogle.” His heart was breaking for her right now, for the trauma that she’d endured.
Once home, Alison took the baby to the nursery that had been ready for months. When they had first started trying to conceive, Alison couldn’t contain her excitement and had run out and bought everything necessary for a baby. That nursery was both a comfort and an encouragement before it became a constant nagging reminder of their failure.
She put the baby into the crib and stood back, watching it sleep. Dennis leaned against the doorframe watching her.
“We should name the baby,” she said in a whisper. “It’s not right putting it off any longer. I hate calling him—or her—it.”
“What though?”
“I don’t know. A name that could be either a boy or a girl name. Something unisex.”
Dennis remained silent.
“What about Jamie?” Alison whispered, pulling the blanket around the baby’s shoulders. She stroked the black hair that streaked the gray scalp—the mottled skin still the color of death.
“Sure, okay,” he said quietly and turned around to leave. “Whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want?” Alison’s voice cracked. She tugged his sleeve and led him out of the nursery and down the hall where she stopped whispering, anger apparent in her voice. “This is your child, too!”
Dennis searched her face. It looked like the same woman he’d loved and known. The same sensible woman. And yet...she seemed to have completely disregarded everything that had gone on these past few days. He still had his pecker in a bandage for cripes sake. And the bruises from her attack had only now ripened to a deep purple hue. The arrival of the baby seemed not so much to have erased the memory for her, but unhinged her completely from reality. “Jamie’s fine, Ali, really.”
“This is our baby, Dennis. This is what we have. This is what God has given us. Sure the baby isn’t perfect, but we asked for a child and that is what we have. The sooner you face that fact and get your pouting over with for whatever it is you wish we had gotten, the sooner we can begin to deal with the life that this baby is going to have to live!”
“You see, Ali, that’s the thing. I don’t think this is our baby and I certainly don’t think God sent it to us.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
Dennis sighed. “You don’t think that this child and all that happened—all of the never before documented abnormalities that have happened—the rapid pregnancy, the wings, the tail—you don’t think any of that had anything to do with our...attacks? Haven’t you put the pieces together, Ali? Don’t you see it?”
“You’re being crazy.”
“Am I? Wings? Tail? Gray skin? This isn’t our baby! This is the spawn of that fetish demon. It’s not even human! Do you even remember the conversation we had about calling a priest in to the house? How you wouldn’t even go back in the bedroom again?”
Alison stood with her hands on her hips, disgust plastered across her tired face. “Would you listen to yourself? You sound nuts.”
“Nuts?” Dennis asked incredulously. “This whole thing is nuts! Doesn’t make it any less true. We’ve got proof. That baby lying in that crib is...not entirely human!” Dennis pointed towards the nursery.
“I’m not even going to talk to you like this. You need to start seriously thinking about your part in this child’s life. What you need to do for this baby, for this family!”
Dennis bit his lip. He wanted to tell her she was crazy. That she was the one who’d lost her mind. But the presence of the child in the nursery was undeniable, as was his part in its cause for existence. He did have a responsibility to their family.
“I’ll be giving that some thought, Ali.” The tone of his voice was a little too cold.
A glint flashed through Alison’s eyes. Protective. Predatory. Primal. Her expression changed quickly from concerned and mad, to suspicious and confrontational. “You do that, Dennis. The home nurse should be here within the hour. Maybe you can act a little more enthusiastic for her sake?”
Dennis turned and walked toward the kitchen. “Go ahead and lie down. I’ll wake you when she gets here.”
He popped the top on a can of Diet Coke and drank it, staring out of the window, across the street at the neighbors outside, playing with their kids. He walked into the den and booted up the computer to check his e-mail. On a sticky note, stuck to his monitor, he had scrawled the word, Kokumuo, to remind himself to look it up on the Internet. Fingers flying over the keyboard he typed in the name and clicked search.
Kokumuo. There it was. He clicked on a voodoo website with synopses of voodoo legends. Page two was a long list of demon names. He scrolled down the list, his eyes jumping from name to name, until he came to Kokumuo. He sucked in a gust of air and read it: Kokumuo—this one will not die.
What in the hell? Dennis read it again.
This one will not die.
Wonderful. So, the fertility fetish was a friggin’ demon that doesn’t die. He rubbed his face with both of his hands. Now what? he asked himself. But he didn’t have an answer and the website didn’t have any more information for him. Too upset to check his e-mail, he turned off the computer and sat staring at the black monitor. He had to get out of the house. He couldn’t just sit here dwelling on this information. On this demon thing. On the thing in the nursery. He just couldn’t.
He decided to run to the convenience store on the corner and pick up some diapers and a snack. He needed some time alone to clear his mind. Maybe he’d stop by the drive-thru somewhere and get a milkshake, spend some time with his own thoughts.
Alison was sound asleep when he left.
24.
The doorbell rang twice before Alison heard it and she made her way to the door as fast as her sore body would allow. She hoped the bell didn’t wake the baby. The woman that stood on the doorstep was very much the stereotypical middle-aged nurse in light blue scrubs, her blond hair knotted neatly behind her head.
“Hello!” Alison said, pulling her bathrobe closer against the chill from outside.
“Mrs. Walker?” the nurse asked. “I’m Nurse Cindy.”
“Come in, come in. I hope you weren’t stand
ing out here too long. My husband said he would wake me when you came, but it seems he stepped out.” Alison cast a glance into the living room and frowned.
“No problem. I hope I didn’t wake the baby.”
“I don’t hear anything, so maybe we got lucky!” Alison laughed.
“Well, since he’s still sleeping, why don’t you go on back to bed and I’ll wait for the baby to wake, or your husband to get home, whichever happens first. I’ve got some paperwork I can catch up on while I wait.”
“Oh, okay, sure! You can use the kitchen table if you’d like. I don’t know where Dennis has gone, but I’m sure wherever it is, he didn’t mean to be gone long or he would have said something to me.” She smiled weakly.
“Not a problem. Now go on to bed. You know the old rule, Sleep when the baby sleeps.” Nurse Cindy laughed.
“I read that somewhere!” Alison laughed too and waved and went on back to her bed.
25.
“Alison?” Dennis gently shook her. “Alison?”
Alison rolled over and blinked, looking around the room. “Where did you go?”
“I ran to get a shake and diapers. Has the nurse been here yet?”
Alison sat up in the bed. “Didn’t you talk to her?”
“No. No one’s here but you.”
“Did you check the baby’s room?”
“No. Didn’t want to wake...Jamie.”
“She must be in the nursery. She told me to go to bed and that she’d talk with you when you got back.”
“I’ll go see. She’s probably in that big rocker, rocking the baby.” Dennis touched her leg and left the room. An ill feeling washed over him as he made his way out the door into the hallway. He stopped to listen, for a sound of the child crying, for a creak from the rocking chair, anything to indicate signs of life inside the room.
Then Comes the Child Page 6