Baby

by J. K. Accinni

  But it must have a name. In the back of Netty’s mind she was mulling over the idea of keeping the creature. It suddenly smiled again. The smile transformed Netty’s loneliness for a brief moment. She didn’t know where it came from or what it was but she already loved it.

  That settled the matter. She felt desperately lonely and this poor creature needed her. It was probably a baby. She needed a baby. So it was settled. She would call it Baby. In the back of her head she heard the echo, “Bay-bee,” a whisper of golden colors, like an aura. Netty shook her head, cursing her sleepiness.

  She hurriedly spooned up some vegetable broth from her cooking kettle over the fire, swallowing quickly. She placed a bowl of water at the side of the straw mat for Baby and took herself off to bed after first banking the fire and making sure the door to the cabin was firmly shut. Tomorrow would bring plenty of chores to catch up on.

  ###

  Baby lay quietly on the straw mat. He found himself quite comfortable. The tall Sister’s behavior had been non-threatening. He wondered what he was to do with the bowl she left next to the mat. Was it for him? He sat up, spilling the liquid inside on the floor. He realized how unsteady he still was. Ignoring the spilt liquid he put the bowl on his head, hooking it over his crown of antlers.

  He decided to stay and observe the Sister and see where this relationship would go. He had no idea as to his offspring’s whereabouts. The urgency of his mission began to slowly fade. Perhaps if he had been a Sister, his recovery since landing would have been different. But he was here now and he knew he needed the tall Sister’s hand on him again until he found a new energy source. As he recovered, he would hear her in his mind more fully. Fleetingly, he wondered how much longer he would live until his expiration.

  Looking around the small room, he wondered where Sister disappeared to. Spotting the door to Netty’s bedroom, he hopped up off the straw mat, and worked at the door handle with his long thin fingers. His feet made soft plunks as he wobbled his way over to the jumbled platform she rested on. Placing one foot on the bed frame, he swiveled his entire body to a perpendicular level as his hands griped the covers, placing his other foot higher on the frame until he swiveled to the top of the bed. Carefully burrowing under the blanket into the curve of Netty’s belly, he promptly went to sleep.

  ###

  Netty woke, feeling the best she had since, well, since she was a young girl, working on the farm with her mama and papa. The memory warmed her and she stretched heartily.

  “Oh.” Shocked to feel something hard and cold in bed with her, she reached under her covers, pulling out the bowl she left at Baby’s bedside. Ripping off the covers, she discovered Baby curled up and looking up at her wide eyed. Baby’s eyelashes were now quite pronounced with thick shimmering golden hairs. Golden fur sprouted all over her head tapering to uniform fuzz, covering her entire body. Her leathery extremities were now soft and supple having filled out. Even her concave abdomen plumped up, giving her a little tummy. As Netty watched, Baby solemnly picked up the bowl and placed it back on her head atop her crown of antlers. Then Baby smiled. Netty, sat stunned. Charmed and enchanted, she gathered Baby into her arms as tears rolled down her cheeks. Baby’s long fingers traced the path of a tear, the bowl falling off her head. A flash of rainbow light and a pressure in her head shattered the moment. The pressure lessened, leaving a golden aura and a whispered word, seemingly from inside her head.

  “Sister?” Netty, confused, whipped her head around, finally resting her eyes on Baby. It cannot be. Was she going mad?

  They sat, just staring at one another. Netty finally reached out to stroke Baby again, with wonder and amazement. She sensed the pressure in her mind recede, leaving a softer presence. Timidly, she tried to relax her mind. As Baby continued to stare intently, she felt a whisper.

  “I am Brother.” Brother? Baby is a little boy?

  “Yes, my Sister.” Was the presence reading her thoughts? The aura faded. Netty’s mind felt empty as she searched its corners, frantic to find the golden aura. Nothing. Baby just stared, his golden rainbow eyes unblinking.

  Well, Netty thought, this is a puzzle. Can my debilitated condition allow my mind to play tricks on me? Warily, she decided to be patient, the answers would come. At least she realized she didn’t need to worry about healing Baby. He seems to have done just fine on his own.

  Time to put the kettle on the fire, she thought, leaving Baby on her bed and wondering if she just imagined the words in her head. She wrapped her robe tightly around her as the morning chill depressed her with the memory of the overwhelming work she still faced.

  The cabin warmed as her breakfast kettle simmered. She wondered what Baby might need to eat. Ruefully, she realized she was ill equipped to take care of this magnificent creature, so different from all the other woodland creatures she ever tended. How did she miss this one, she wondered? Perhaps he was just rare. Oh well, he belonged with her now, unless he decided to return to the woods. Netty dismissed the discovery of the giant cavern as none of her business.

  She returned to the bedroom to wash up and change into her work clothes. Glancing toward the bed, she saw that Baby had moved to her pillow, perching on it with his golden legs crossed, just like a little man. Oh–-maybe Baby is not an infant. She went to him, picking him up to kiss his face. He made a chuffing sound but sent no more whisperers. With a last kiss and cuddle, Netty set Baby back on the bed. She moved to a simple cupboard in the corner of the room to remove another pair of her papa’s overalls that had been overlooked by the looters. Slipping off her nightgown, she observed a slightly trimmer waist than she was used to seeing. Not surprised, she considered her flight from her husband’s clutches, her hard work and the meager meals she now afforded herself. Moving over to her washstand, she dipped her cloth into the water warmed from the fire. She loved the feeling of the cloth suffusing the water’s warmth into her skin. As she dawdled at the washstand, she felt thrown off by the unfamiliar feeling of her nose through the wash cloth. Something felt wrong.

  Dropping the cloth from her hands, she peered into the mirror over the wash bowl, speechless. Her nose looked as straight as it had been on the day of her birth, the bump nonexistent. It was the old Netty looking back at her, albeit older and plumper. Suddenly, remembering part of her previous night’s activities, she looked down at her feet. They were devoid of any scabs or sores, not to mention the pain that disappeared last night. She whirled to her bed and stared at Baby. Could it be? She sat down, picking up Baby’s tail remembering the pressure in the chamber and the strange smell. She sniffed Baby’s tail fur, not seeing the strange membrane from last night but clearly smelling a faint trace of sulfur.

  Stunned, Netty backed away from Baby, her thoughts in a whirl. Obviously elated over the changes in her appearance and overwhelmed with the happiness Baby’s presence portended, these miracles defied logic. Wait, that’s it. They were just miracles, not a sign of the devil as she had begun to fear. Miracles are sent by God. She ran to Baby and stared into his amazing eyes, whirling colors glimmering at her. She felt a tentative touch in her mind.

  “God?” Baby whispered.

  “Yes.” Netty felt the relief course through her body. “God … our Father.”

  “Father.” The aura sent whispers into her mind.

  “Yes, our Father protects us all, we are all his children,” she said.

  “Offspring?” Baby whispered.

  “Yes, yes, Baby, we are all one,” cried Netty.

  “Yes, like the Womb,” her mind whispered, golden aura, dancing. “Womb is father. Father, Brother, Sister.” Baby smiled. And Netty smiled. Somehow, they made a breakthrough. She did not know what a Womb meant, but did it really matter? She knew everything would be just fine.

  As Netty gathered her tools for her day’s work, she ladled out a portion of breakfast porridge for Baby. Baby ignored it, spending his time following closely at her heels and inspecting everything she touched. Netty stepped out the door on to her st
oop. The air contained a vague coolness but the bright sun and translucent blue sky would soon warm her up. Planning to head to her family’s old orchard to survey what might be salvaged, she noticed Baby had lain down on the stoop, arms outstretched. She called out to him with no response. Bending over to shake him, she felt rigidity. She bent over, intending to return him to her bed, when she felt the golden aura in her mind.

  “Sister, I am eating.” Netty looked closer. She could actually see dust motes dancing in what looked like rays being absorbed into Baby’s leathery extremities. “Hungry, Sister. My eating is slow. Go. I will find you.” Netty felt a sense of wellbeing flood her mind. So, leaving Baby, she made her way to the orchard. Work cannot stop just because she could not understand what Baby thought he was eating.

  Netty made her way down the road and over the slight rise to take a look at the orchard. Her family had harvested many apples, pears and her favorite black walnuts for years. She had vivid memories of removing the yellow-green husk of the walnut with its icky messy black underside and cracking the shell to get to the fresh tart-sweet meat. Her mama used the meat in her baking, stews and her breads, claiming the nut was a wonderful substitute for costly trips to Mr. Simpson’s butcher shop in town.

  Mr. Simpson was a scary man. He never smiled unless he was wielding his big knives on the carcass of a poor creature. His wife appeared to be terrified of him. At any rate, Netty wanted to stay away from town as much as possible. The walnut grove would be a great help to her diet.

  Netty knew Sussex County had experienced blight a few years back. It had not spread to Norris County so she was unaware of the extent of the devastation. Hopefully, her orchard had been spared. As she topped the hill, her hopes sank. As far as she could see, her trees were nude, with but a few lonely leaves clinging hopelessly to the diseased branches. Worse yet, the trees were deformed with the trunks displaying huge hardened growths spilling from the trunks, obviously a symptom of the blight. She realized the canning supplies she purchased on her last walk to town would not be filled with the fruits and jams she would need to help get her through the winter as she planned. Discouraged, she turned and started back to the cabin, planning to spend the rest of the day turning over soil in another field. She knew large supplies of seeds remained buried in caskets, hidden in the ground inside her former animal hospital. She hoped to plant enough to sell surplus to travelers on the road into town.

  Glancing up, she saw Baby heading toward her from the bottom of the hill, his little feet clumping and wobbling at the same time. She sat and waited for him to reach her. She saw the rainbow flash in her mind’s eye, and the whisper.

  “Sister sad?” Gathering Baby into her lap, she buried her face in his fur. The little rascal actually looked plump. As he smiled at her with his rainbow eyes glowing, she noticed he did not have any teeth. Prying open his mouth she discovered he had no tongue. Removing her hands from his mouth, she wondered how he could eat or drink. Baby certainly puzzled her.

  “Come along Baby, we have much to do today.” She stood, ready to head home. Looking down, she saw Baby was still sitting with his mouth wide open. She gently reached down and with her fingertips, she closed his mouth. Laughing, she thought about how happy and light hearted he made her feel, even in the face of discouragement. As she walked back to the cabin, she turned to see if Baby followed. Yes, he shuffled behind, rotating his head on its swivel, allowing him to look around to the fading orchard as he followed Netty home.

  After a quick lunch of cold porridge left from breakfast, Netty retired with Baby to the field she had begun to till the day before. As she collected the larger of the fieldstones, piling them to the side of the field, Baby observed her intently.

  “Food?” he probed in her mind.

  “No Baby, we are going to plant seed in the soil to grow our food.” Progress was slow but as she tilled the soil she could smell the rich organic loaminess. Hard work never killed anyone, she thought, energized with the thought of the independence her crops could provide her. As the afternoon wore on, she made excellent progress. The part of the field she was working in was now clear of rock. She raked the smaller stones to the side, adding to her pile of rock she planned to use as field boundary markers. She knew her papa and Mr. Wood never wasted anything on the farm. Everything had a purpose. Even the weeds from the field would be used in her giant compost pile. If this season’s planting were successful, it would enable her to sell more at her stand. Her fervent hope was to purchase a horse to help her plow the field next season. Netty found herself filled with new hope and plans for her success, such an overwhelming change from yesterday. And she knew she had Baby to thank. She reached up to happily rub her nose, smiling at him as he lay rigidity stretched out under an oak tree. Eating again, she laughed to herself. Her mind whispered the golden aura.

  ###

  “Yes Sister.” Oops, I better watch that, not much privacy from Baby.

  Netty realized Baby brought a big lift to her spirits. For the first time in years, she dare think she was not alone. She knew she would go to bed tonight with anticipation for the new day instead of her normal dread. Maybe tomorrow she could begin some planting. She would like to get a jump on the season, and then continue clearing the field. Calling to Baby, she picked up her tools and started home. It had been quite a day.

  As Netty approached the door to the cabin, she dropped her tools, thinking she would open up the seed caskets and scope out her selections for the morning. Some of the beans would require soaking overnight before they could be planted. Walking to the back field, she let herself into her makeshift hospital, now being used strictly for storage. Taking a trowel, she went to the earthen floor under the single window where she knew her papa used to store the seed. Scraping off the top few inches of soil, she exposed the caskets. Even though they were really half caskets they were terribly heavy. Lifting them out of their hole, she lined them up and popped the lids. They came off unusually easily. One sniff of the seeds told the story. Rot. She spilled a casket on to the floor. Most of the seeds were covered with a layer of mold. She was unable to tell how many of the seeds were still good, unwilling to waste precious energy and tilled space to plant bad seeds on the hope they might germinate. Her exultant mood evaporated. She dispiritedly left the animal hospital, passing by Baby as she let herself into the cabin. Baby’s neck was swiveled toward the hospital. Realizing he remained outside, Netty returned to the door to call to him. The last thing she recalled before the pressure hit her was Baby’s golden tail in the air.

  Netty picked herself off the floor, having landed on her bottom again. She detected the same odor she remembered from the cavern. Sulphur. What just happened? Did it mean something? Netty stood rooted to her spot, confusion immobilizing her as Baby strolled past her to the straw mat at the fireplace as if nothing happened.

  Well, she shrugged. I guess that means it’s time for dinner. Putting on the dinner pot, she grabbed a potato from the bin. She wondered if Baby would eat something this time. Putting out a bowl of water for him, she completed dinner and served it on her rickety table. Baby shuffled to the table, again wearing the water bowl on his head. Netty dropped her spoon and laughed. Maybe someday Baby would tell her what it meant. She finished dinner, noticing Baby did not touch his soup. She cleared the dishes and headed to the outhouse to make her nightly ablutions. As she opened the outhouse door, first looking for rattlesnakes, it occurred to her that she had seen no signs that Baby had the same necessity. Assuming Baby was simply just a woodland creature she never encountered before; she took herself off to bed. Why worry over something that really did not matter, she thought. She was beginning to love Baby even as he continued to mystify her. Her last thought for the evening was how comforted she felt with Baby again pressed up against her as he slept curled under the covers by her tummy.

  Netty and Baby woke the next morning to another beautiful day. Unfortunately, Netty’s outlook for her planting was so low, she found climbing out of bed a
miserable chore. She planned to sift through the seeds to see if she could find a few that might be salvageable. If she had to spend any of the last of her silver coins on new seed, she could have great difficulty stocking in the supplies she would need to get Baby and her through the winter. As it was, she would lose her opportunity to get a jump on the planting. By the time she traveled back and forth to town and planted the new seed, she could lose a full week. She knew she could not take Baby to town with her and she was unwilling to leave him alone just yet, afraid he might decide to return to the woods if she left him alone. She could not bear the thought.

  Shrugging into her work clothes after breakfast, she grabbed a small basket from the kitchen to store the few seeds she hoped to salvage from the caskets. She noticed that Baby was already stretched out on the stoop in what was becoming his customary eating position. Whatever that meant, she thought. Arriving in front of her old animal hospital, she slid the sliding wood door completely back to let as much sunlight in as possible. As she stood in the small room, she did not at first grasp what her eyes registered, not fully adjusted to the dimness. Slowly, awareness crept over her and she sank to her knees. Reaching out, she gingerly touched the little plants that lay all over the ground where yesterday she spilt the moldy seeds. This cannot be. She quickly ran to the other caskets and found them chock full of little plants, all looking to bust out of their confinement and reach for the sun. Netty ran for the busted wheelbarrow she paid to have repaired. She hurriedly loaded it to the brim, worrying about their survival with no soil or water. No time to ponder on this new miracle, she quickly started down the road to her field, shouting to Baby as she passed him on the stoop.

  By the time Baby made it to the field, she had one beautiful row of plantings in the ground and was digging holes for the second row. Distractedly, she hardly noticed Baby, who approached the field, shinning eyes focused intently on her as she planted. As she straightened up, wiping grime off her face, she watched as Baby made a hole with his fragile little fingers, plucked a plant from the wheelbarrow and buried it. Astonished and elated, Netty briefly wondered who taught this to Baby.