Christopher Ransom - The Birthing House

'Okay. You were thirteen.'

'Right. But I was also, you know, not your average thirteen-year-old. I was . . . like I am now or close enough.' Here she gestured at her breasts and hips as if to say, what I have now is what I had then. 'I guess my parents knew what happens to girls who are that developed and go babysitting.'

'What happens?'

'Either boys crawl through the window and stuff happens or the father who drives you home gets ideas and stuff happens. Either way something that isn't supposed to happen happens. They kept asking me to call every hour or so to check in. They knew Leon and Mrs Laski had a wedding up in Eau Claire. I was gonna be alone for eight hours at the least. I could tell my mom wanted to come and help me. But my dad said no, it would be good for me to handle them alone. And they were going to be right next door. So no big deal. I liked kids. Or I thought I did, until I started babysitting.

'Those kids. I knew they weren't right. Davey was so quiet, he never seemed to care if he was hungry or thirsty, so I had to ask him a lot if he needed anything. Anna Maybelle was different. All she wanted to do was play with her dolls.'

Conrad raised his hand. 'Dolls?'

'Yeah.'

'What kind?'

'That's what I'm telling you. Why, what's wrong?'

'Nothing. Go on.'

'These little home-made dolls. Now those gave me the creeps. They were made of wood. The Laskis didn't have a TV, either, so maybe that was all she had, but still. The dolls were old and dirty from years of playing. Whoever made them forgot to give them a face. But that wasn't so bad. What really bothered me was their hair. It was like human hair, but dry, brittle. I tried to play with Anna Maybelle, and it was hard, but what was I supposed to do? Let the girl sit there alone all night? What's wrong?'

Her words had turned him white. 'I'm fine. Don't stop now.' She frowned at him. 'There must have been four or five of them. Anna Maybelle was busy changing their clothes around, which weren't much more than some beat up house-dress-looking things, also probably handmade. You could see the stitches on them where someone, probably someone's grandma, had sewn them together. Scuzzy little white trash dolls is what they were. She called one Chessie, like Jessie. And I guess I sort of lost myself for a while then because time passed and I was still making this doll walk and talk and doing little voices, but I wasn't playing with her. Anna Maybelle. I was just babbling to myself and making strange noises and making up stories. How Chessie was going to the store and how Chessie was getting her hair done, because it needed some work. I think . . . I did that for a while, a long while. Because when I looked up both Anna Maybelle and Davey weren't playing any more. They were just staring at me, their dumb mouths hanging open.

'Sorry, that's not very nice. But that's how they looked. For a minute it was like the dolls had become more real than the kids. Like the kids were made of wood and the dolls were . . . I was so lost in their voices it took me a few minutes to realize I was the only one talking. When I looked up, the kids weren't moving or saying anything. That just made me mad. Like they were trying to trick me by sitting perfectly still. I had to yell at them to stop staring off into space like that. Those poor kids. They must have thought I was losing it. When I looked up at the clock I thought maybe twenty minutes had gone by. But that was wrong, by a lot.'

'How long were you playing with them?'

'All night.'

'What do you mean, "all night"?'

'The whole night, Conrad. It was eleven thirty when I stopped. We had been in the living room, sitting on the floor since before seven. I know because I remember looking at the grandfather clock when it gonged right before we sat down and I remembered thinking, that thing is loud. But I never heard it again, not once I started playing with the dolls. I didn't hear anything the whole time. As soon as I realized it, my back hurt and I knew. I'd been sitting there all night. In fact, I would bet anything that they didn't move or say a word the whole time. When I imagined myself sitting there for hours, babbling like an idiot, like, yeah, okay, like I was one of them . . . like one of those retarded kids . . . it scared me. I started crying and I blurted it out. "What's wrong with you? What are you doing?" They started crying. I tried to calm them down but they wouldn't come near me. Davey crawled away fast. Anna Maybelle stood up and actually ran away from me. I had to chase them upstairs.

'Then I smelled it. Going up the stairs. Both the kids had crapped their pants. I mean, sure, they weren't right, but they were well past potty training. It happened while I was playing with those ugly little wooden dolls. So I don't know how long, but they were sitting there in their own filth, for hours. I got upstairs and cleaned them up, but they wouldn't even look at me. I felt sick to my stomach that I had lost myself like that.'

'That sounds pretty bad. What did you do?'

'I put them to bed and waited for the Laskis to come home. I tried to convince myself it wasn't possible. But it was. I was hungry, too. Like I hadn't eaten for a week. And my mouth was dry. I was so thirsty. I was dying of thirst.'

She paused, watching him.

He was thinking about iced tea. 'That could have been panic. Don't people always need water when they are in shock or something?'

Nadia drank more water and they sat in silence.

'Is that it?' he asked. 'Did you go back?'

'No. I didn't want to babysit for them again anytime soon. I stayed in my room, went to school, and tried not to think about the dolls. And I did forget about them. But then, very slowly, something changed. I tried to stay away, but eventually I missed them. I had to go back.'

'You felt bad for what happened? You wanted to make it up to the kids?'

'No. I had forgotten all about the kids.'

'I don't understand.'

'I started hearing voices. The same ones I made up, but saying things I never said. They just came to me. They were all different and they weren't mine any more. They were their own voices.'

'The kids?'

'Not the kids. I wasn't missing the kids. After a few weeks, I missed the dolls.'

'What did they say?' But he didn't really want to know.

'Lots of things that didn't make sense. Most of it I forgot as soon as it happened, like waking up from a dream. But one thing I kept hearing in the girl doll's voice. Chessie, the one I played with, the one with the dead straw hair. I heard her in school, in the middle of the day, reading my algebra book. She called out to me in that high voice. 'Come back. Mommy, come back. Doctor gonna kill baby you don't come home soon.'

20

The following afternoon, Conrad finished mowing the Grums' lawn just before the rain started. He waved at her through the front window and pointed at his house. Nadia nodded and waved - yeah yeah, I know .

The afternoon gave way to dusk and she had not come back. He flipped through a couple of Jo's house magazines and debated the wiser of two options - go back to the Grums' and try to get her to open up on her home turf, or call his wife - until he drifted off. He was just about to slide over the cliff when someone started knocking on the door, pounding like they'd been there a while.

When he opened it, Nadia was headed back across the porch.

'Hey, I'm home. Sorry.'

She turned around slowly, clearly disappointed she had not been able to sneak away.

'Sorry. I nodded off. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me,' he said, leaving the door open.

'I need the money.' She followed him inside.

'Have you eaten dinner?'

'No. I'm starving.'

He was sensing a pattern. 'What are you in the mood for?'