Baby in a basket

The story started with a challenge set up thehauntedwordsmith, to be continued by the next tagged writer.

STORY SO FAR (links given)

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/08/11/finish-the-story-6-11-august-2018/

“It’s in your blood, hun.”

His mother’s response to the announcement that he was leaving home echoed in his ears. He knew she would be supportive, but he never expected to feel both exhilarated and let down at the same time. They were close, and always had been, but a little part of him now felt she had already let him go years ago. Pushing that thought from his mind, Eric picked up his loaded backpack and set off for the adventure of a lifetime. With one last hug and long look at his old life, he …

https://lightmotifs.wordpress.com/2018/08/11/the-road/

… began walking down the familiar sun-dappled path toward town and the bus station. Eric still appreciated the quiet, peaceful beauty of the old trees as their leaves donned autumn’s colors, but his mind was elsewhere. His imagination conjured up images of vibrant city life, the music, the lights, the faster pace. He’d have to get a job, of course, and was prepared with various resumes. He couldn’t wait to begin his new, exciting life, and was so preoccupied with these thoughts that he didn’t hear the rattle as he stepped over the log…

Tagged Again

Eric braced himself for the rattlesnake bite that he knew was coming. He looked down at the log expecting to see a coiled rattler poised to strike. But he was totally unprepared for what he actually saw. There, in a small wicker basket, was a baby, no more than a few months old, Eric guessed, rattle in hand, looking back up at Eric. The baby shook its rattle and then smiled up at Eric. Eric reached down and lifted up the basket. The baby looked healthy and, given the circumstance, remarkably happy. It even started cooing when Eric lifted it up out of the basket. And that is when Eric found the note attached to the baby’s diaper.

https://jimadamsauthordotcom.wordpress.com/2018/08/11/child-abandonment/

The typed note said, “I am a victim of incestuous rape and I am not fit to be a mother. I named her Tuesday, because that is when she was born, but who ever finds her can rename her whatever they want.”  Eric being the genius that he was, realized that the baby was only two days old, because today was Thursday, or possibly it was a week and two days old, but he really had no idea and it could have been a few months old and two days.  Eric felt that this was better than getting bit by a rattle snake, or for that matter getting hit by a javelin, but Eric knew that he did not want this baby and he would have to figure out something to do with it, so he could get on with his busy life.  It was kind of a cute baby and he always liked that song Tuesday Afternoon.  Eric wondered how any mother could not feel any emotional attachment for their own baby and that is when he crouched down to pick the baby up.  As he grabbed the baby, he heard a voice say, “No stupid, you have give her proper support because she is still developing, so put your hands under the baby’s head.” Eric looked around and saw…

PART 5 BY REENA

He put the baby back in the basket, blew a kiss and moved on,

“All the best, Tuesday! May you find a parent who deserves you….”

He had barely moved ten steps, when he heard the baby’s cooing again. Reluctantly, he looked back and found her smiling. She even managed to wave at him, or was she imploring to be picked up…. He was now sure that she was more than a month old, as she could communicate so well. But how had she survived for so long? Did the callous mother take more than a month to abandon her? He was imagining a face similar to the baby’s … maybe, the mother is young and beautiful, but callous … no helpless or .. innocent or .. what? Darn… it was not his problem to think about that.

Another cooing sound, and he had picked up Tuesday again. He looked into the baby’s innocent eyes, and knew that he was hooked. But how was he going to manage this?

There were only two options. One, go back to his Mom and seek her help. She might suspect something else, but it didn’t matter. Or look for the baby’s mother ….

And now I tag Deepa to take it ahead.

 

Thank you, Jim Adams!

16 thoughts on “Baby in a basket

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