A Home of Mothers

Cradle

I go straight up in my seat, push away my chair, and swearing under my breath, grab the cradle and my book. Where could she have gone?!

I run into the barrage of lights and colors without another thought.

"Have you seen a baby?" I yell into the crowd, "This small?" I hold up the cradle, but I only get the smell of champagne in my face and pushed around and around. A bartender yells at me to hurry up with the bottles, realizes he has the wrong person, and abruptly turns away to scold a serving girl about my age. I can see how he mixed us up; we both have long, brunette hair, and similar clothing. But her eyes are bright, and I know mine are teary. When the bartender walks back into the kitchen for the fridge, I walk towards the girl.

"Have you seen my sister anywhere?" I ask. "She's only a baby."

She shakes her head. "I haven't seen her. But I can help look!"

I glance back into the crowd, desperate. "Okay. Sure. Fine. I mean, thanks."

She looks worried. "Are you okay?"

I nod quickly. "Yeah, just scared."

"That's it," she says, "I'm helping," and then she vaults over the bar and holds up a hand. I shake it.

"My name's Olivia," she says, and I nod.

"Mine's Amelia."

And as I think vaguely about her odd welcome, we hurry into the crowd and start asking around.

"Have you seen a baby? This big?"

"A baby, anyone, a baby? This big?"

And so on, but we finally reach the center of the room and I catch sight of my father. He's talking amiably with three security guards- bald men with black clothes and a mic at their cheek, and so with a shiver I know the man in the fedora was not a guard- and as he says something, one of them barks in laughter. But then my father looks towards us and as he catches my eye, his smile lowers to a frown, and as he stops talking immediately he starts pushing through the crowd. I grab Olivia's arm halfway through one of her shouts, and start to run back through the crowd. Left, right, around, through, I dash in and out of the mob, and as Olivia struggles under my iron grip, I put a finger to my lips and shake my head. I slow down near one of the shadier walls, with men and women passed out on the floor.

"My father can't catch me without the baby," I whisper, "It's my job to look after her."

Olivia nods, and a man waves us over from behind her. His face is unshaved, his eyes slightly bloodshot. He's clearly drunk- glasses are piled all around him. "...Hey," he says slowly, "That man your father?" He slowly blinks. His breath smells horrid.

I look back to where he points and swear- my father hasn't seen me yet, but he's getting closer. Now he has one of the security guard's mics at his cheek as well.

"No," I say, "No no no, he's... My cousin."

The man, slouching on the wall, winks. "I bet. Anyways, I heard you been lookin' for that little baby o his."

I nod quickly. "Yes, yes!" Olivia glances at me oddly.

"Well," the man says, yawning, eyes clear for a moment but then glazed again, "I seen that kid of his. He be goin' up those stairs, way over there."

I follow his gaze, and he's pointing past the second bar, past the kitchen, and past the fireplace in the middle of the room, to near the round table I'd been reading at. "Thank you," I say nervously, and I grab Olivia's arm again, but he waves me closer. He whispers in my ear.

"Be wary," he says, and in that moment he's not drunk at all. "There's bad men around here, and they're trying to hurt you." And then he pushes me away and I stumble into the crowd.

"What did he say?" Olivia asks as we run, and I pause.

"He just slurred a bit, I couldn't hear him," I say slowly, and I can tell she doesn't believe me.

We head towards the bar- it's the fastest way across- and we traverse through the crowd of doozy men. One tries to grab me, and Olivia kicks him, and as he looks startled then screams in pain, I stare at her in wonder. "I could never do that," I say, and she smiles.

"You get used to it."

We finally reach the staircase, with the oaken railing and the darkness above, and I stare at it for a moment, let go of her arm, and begin to walk up it. She waits at the bottom.

I look back. "Stay here," I say, and someone yells her name. The bartender.

Olivia hears the voice, and without another word hurries up behind me, stairs creaking lightly. "Nope," she says, "Nope, nope, nope," and we walk up higher, towards the first turn. The little landing's semicircle turns to even more darkened stairs, and as I felt after I saw the fedora man, I feel now. Off, somehow. Something's up.

Olivia gasps. "Look out there!"

I shudder. She's looking through the window, to the soft blue-black sky with the fuzzy gold stars, to the still tree-line far off, the little swing-set, and the huge property full of neatly cut grass. It's dark out, but the moon illuminates it all.

"That's nice," I say, and I start to turn around, but she grabs my arm.

"No," she says, "really look."

I look closer, and I drop my jaw. Though no wind rustles the night outside, one swing on the swing-set is slowly turning, twisting, and as my eyes go wide the ropes knot together and the swing goes still. It's suspended by tangled ropes, entwined around each other now, and I fall back onto the wooden floor. I blink, but then the swing-set's back to normal. I must have imagined it.

But when I turn to Olivia she's not there, a chill wind whispering by my ear, and clenching my fists, I run up the remainder of the stairs and shut my eyes tight. I trip at the top, though, banging my chin on the carpeting and sucking in the pain through my teeth. I rise.

I'm in a carpeted hallway, leading both to the right and the left. In front of me is a white-painted door, it was going to be Anna's room...

I turn around, looking out the window at the bottom of the steps I had just run up.

The swing is twisted once again.

"No!" I whisper, and fling open Anna's door, close it quietly behind me, and collapse onto the white-comforter bed. For a moment I lay there, face and fists sunken into the cushioned bedspread, but then I slowly rise, staring at the wall. It was going to be Anna's room, and before that, it was mine. Over there I had my stuffed Dino, over there, my clothes closet, and my computer desk. I never really needed that desk, I always lied down on my bed to type, but always...

Suddenly, a plaintive cry rings out, and I push up, suddenly vigilant. That sounded like...

It sounds again, and I push off the bed and begin to run towards it. Anna.

I run through the hall, ignoring the right path towards my mother's room and dashing down the left. The walls and floor rush by as I run, Anna! I want to call, Anna! but if they're holding her hostage I don't want to alert them. And then I mentally punch myself. So assuming, Amelia. As soon as your sister goes missing, you assume she's kidnapped. She's a baby, after all, she could be anywhere...

I run into the spa bedroom, and I hear a cry from one of the tubs. I run over, pushing my head into it.

A tape recorder is running, wa, wa, wa, and as the doors slam and lock, the water starts to flow.

And beneath the glow of the night's dark window, I slowly collapse to the floor.

WAH WAH WAHHHHHH

Did you know: This is the first book I wrote myself a summary in advance for? Well, up to chapter 5, anyways...

Thanks for reading!
--DraconisSolutus