Day Three by Holly Day

He’s wearing out. The man looked old and tired. I have to go to work. I
should call in. Damn, I should call in.

No, no, go to work. Candice took the sobbing baby into the bedroom and sat
down on the bed with him. The baby began to nurse. I’ll take care of him.
I’ll call you if he gets worse. Or better. She made a smile. Go to work.

And then the woman was alone with the baby. The baby’s eyes were closing,
and it looked like sleep. Candice waited, holding her breath. Shhh. Eyes
closed, stayed closed. Candice put the baby on the bed and gently piled
covers over the tiny white body. Shhh. She backed away. Shh. She closed the
door. So quiet.

Her ministrations of the previous nights appeared to have worked. Here and
there were tiny holes in the walls and floors, but no new gigantic rips
through the house’s foundation could be seen. She poured rubbing alcohol
along the windows and doors, everywhere there was exposed wood. Get ’em
while they’re sleeping, she thought. All along the floor molding.

Two bottles of alcohol later, the baby was still asleep. Candice looked in
and watched the tiny chest rise and fall, rise and fall. She called Jonathan
at work. The baby’s asleep.

Oh, thank God. You, you should sleep, too.

It’s so quiet, she said. I don’t know if I can sleep. I just want to sit
and enjoy this quiet. She pressed the phone against her ear and closed her
eyes. Can you hear that? she asked. Nothing at all.

© 2011 Holly Day

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