For Baby’s Sake

1315 words

         My! Look at that baby rattle. This will come in handy to get their attention. It makes such a jingling sound. I'm getting used to playing with little things right now. What a gift! The kids should make this rattle our family mascot.

         Greg must have bought the rattle for Shannon since she thinks she's pregnant. Be careful what you ask of Heaven; you might just get it, Shannon.

         I remember when I gave birth to Greg. He was such an itty bitty thing, so helpless. I promised myself I'd look out for him together with that funny, pointed head of his; a promise I took seriously then, and I had to struggle to keep it.

         What a relief being without pain! I was in agony, and I was so alone, until a day ago... Now I love this feeling of being light, doing as I please, going through the walls and other structures. I find I have a lot of fun floating around inside their apartment, picking things up, and putting them down. And I have barely learned how to lift things. Imagine, what I'll be able to do in time.

         Look, I found a pen. This will come in handy. I think I'll write a reminder on their bedroom wall. Hey, I did it! I wrote, "Death... Mother." I'm getting the hang of it all.

         I love making myself at home, here. After all, I'm going to live with them from now on, whether they want me or not. Where else can I go but to my son's home? Greg and Shannon, my son and daughter in-law, they didn't care to admit that I lived. Now they'll have to. They'll see that I have existed and still do exist. This will serve them right.

         I spent months in the nursing home. Greg came to see me just once, stayed a few minutes, and left with a vague promise of returning with Shannon. Later I found out Shannon had called the nurses a few times to inquire about me. That doesn't mean much though, because Shannon is dutiful. She called the home out of a sense of duty, propriety, or the scary cobwebs of 'what-will-people-say'. That doesn't sit well with me. What I needed was their caring and affection.

         Still, maybe it was me. Maybe I was too considerate of their privacy, their youth, their time. Maybe I should have gained a backbone instead of a wishbone.

         Oh, I'm in their bedroom now. Look at that brown leather wallet on the dresser. Greg left his wallet home, same as when he was in grade school. He always leaves things behind.

         No need to be civilized. I can look into their things now, as I'll search inside this wallet... Nothing unusual... Where did Greg buy this wallet from? It has so many compartments. Ooops! What's that? A phone number with an address. "Carmen?" I know it...

         Just like Warren, his father. I used to find such things in his pockets, too. I endured those and him, in tearless silence, as if Warren were a stranger. For Greg's sake, I said to myself.

         Warren had adored me at first, my precise features, blue eyes, and my feathery figure, but his interest dwindled later. Not all men are like that though, thank God for the sake of womankind!

         Carmen ha, Greg? I won't let you hurt Shannon. That Carmen needs a visit or two from me, but I'll get to that later.

         Oh, I hear footsteps in the hall. Greg and Shannon must be returning. Let them come in first. Then the fun will begin. Here they are, walking in. Let me listen.

         Greg: "I hate to eat while balancing on my lap a full glass of wine on a dripping paper plate. And I hate making stupid conversation with idiotic people."

         Shannon: "Well, it is over now, but you know we have to reciprocate, don't you. Sweetie?"

         Greg: "Sure. Why not invite all the homeless under Riker's Bridge and serve them in even thinner paper plates? I bet the conversation will be more interesting."

         Shannon: "Oh, Greg!"

         Look at her...There's nothing like seeing their relationship up close. I bet it will be different than the facade they put up for others. If not now, it will be so after the baby comes.

         Oh, they are going into the bedroom. It shouldn't be long now.

         Shannon: "Greg...Greg, did you write on the wall?"

         Here it comes. She saw it. Let me sneak in there.

         Greg: "What wall, Honey?"

         Shannon: "Turn around and see."

         Greg: "It must be Jennie's son. He's a handful."

         Shannon: "But he didn't come in here. I had the door closed all the time."

         Greg: "Well, kids! What do you expect? You better get used to this, Honey. You'll find out when we have ours. I always sneaked around behind my mother. She never had any inkling."

         I didn't? Of course, I did. I knew every single thing he did but didn't let on. What an idiot, my son! Maybe I rushed his toilet training. That's why he turned into this nincompoop.

         Shannon: "Oh, Greg...Speaking about your mother, did you call about the funeral?"

         Greg: "Yes, Sunday. Everything will be proper. It is a good thing we didn't mention it tonight. I didn't want to get everyone all upset. It would alter the atmosphere."

         Alter the atmosphere...Now, I am mad. I know how to alter their atmosphere. For a head start, I'll shake the rattle again in the living room.

         Look at them dart out of the bedroom half-undressed. What a sight! Hehehehe...

         Shannon: "What was that?"

         Greg: "Nothing here. It must be from the outside."

         Well, so, how's this? I'm turning on the radio and the television at the same time. Oh, what a racket! And my son, the you-know-what, is coming back to shut it all off.

         Greg: "It's okay, Dear. I turned them off."

         Shannon: "Greg, you must have done something when you installed the light dimmer."

         Stupid kids! It isn't the dimmer on the wall but the dimmer in their heads. Will they ever understand? I want to tell them, "You had a mother who loved you both, and she's dead." But I don't know how to do that human-voice thing, at least not yet.

         They don't even have a photograph of me around. Except, didn't I see a photo of us with Warren several years ago when I came to visit, right there by the hall in the entrance? Yes...That image...The photo of perfection...Greg's happy family, loving parents...

         Shannon comes from a broken home, and she envies Greg. There was nothing to envy. We may have been together for a photo-op, but I was an abandoned woman, in more ways than one. There are many forms of abandonment, as I found out.

         Now, where's that photo? Here! I found it. Inside the hallway closet on the top shelf. Let me give it a push. Great. It's falling to the floor. Look at its glass shatter into thousand shards...Here they come running. Imbeciles! Neither thinks of checking inside the closet...



         They've gone to sleep now. Let them sleep. In the meantime, I'll go take care of that Carmen. I'll try to break her things, make noises, scare her silly, and write 'Leave Greg Alone!' messages on her walls. I'll give her a night she'll never forget.

         Then tomorrow, I'll come back, curl on the sofa, and think of a way. A way to undo the lousy model Warren has set for Greg, and the other model I also set for him, to make up for that deficient model, by accepting Warren's behavior.

         But then, just like in that movie classic, Gone with the Wind, 'tomorrow will be another day.' And this ghost will plan things better than the living, for the living. For the baby's sake.