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Chapter 32: Mammas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys

Chapter 32: Mammas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys

February

"Sorry about last night," I say to her while we're sitting in home ec that afternoon. We're supposed to be learning about the care and feeding of infants. But we both have other things on our minds.

"It's okay."

"Was your mom pissed?"

"A little. I think it's all good now," she says.

"Alright."

"Kind of embarrassing, though," she says. "Jesse finding me in his bed like that. I hope he doesn't think, you know, I'm like a slut or anything."

Just then, Pickle speaks sharply at us. "Chaplin, Thomas. Your turn for baby duty. Be sure and pick up your infants after school by 3:30." 

I exchange glances with Peyton. "Jesse isn't like that. He doesn't judge."

She sighs.

"Seriously. Seen his share of troubles. He understands. He's been like a father to me."

"Like a father? But you have a dad."

"Yeah, I do. Now. But I didn't always. And Jess, he manned up."

"Because of the drinking?"

"Yeah. Because of that. And, also...because my dad left for a time." The memory of it makes me a little nauseous.

"You never told me that."

"It's not easy to talk about," I say. "Anyway, you don't have to worry about Jess. He's a good guy."

            *****

After football class is over, we trudge back to Pickle's room.

"My stomach is all clenched up," Peyton grumbles. "I've been dreading the terror that is this robot baby ever since the first day of class."

"Aw, it'll be fun, Mamma."

"Oh my God, please don't call me Mamma. It's super creepy."

I laugh. I know exactly how to push her buttons.

"We were going to go see a movie. I guess that's a no-go now." She sighs.

"Nah, we can take them. My little Junior, he'd probably enjoy a night out."

We've been planning this trip to Huntsville to see the latest Star Wars movie for weeks.

"How do you know it's a he?" She asks. 

"Cuz." I shrug. "I'm so manly, I only produce boys."

"What the hell does that even mean?" She laughs. "Haven't you covered reproduction in biology yet?  It's a coin toss. Besides, this is a robot. Not the actual fruit of your loins."

I smile and shake my head.

We walk into Pickle's room to retrieve our progeny. Our school can only afford two babies. With twenty-four in the class, it takes almost the entire unit for each student to get a turn.

"Chaplin. Thomas. Glad you made it."

She turns and opens a drawer, pulling out one baby dressed in blue and another in pink.

Peyton raises her eyebrows at me. "Fruit of your loins," she mutters under her breath.

"Okay," Pickle says, sniffing. "This is Almost Alive Infant 3000, the world's most sophisticated neonate simulator. It uses wireless programming to track and report on caregiver behaviors, including mishandling actions, time spent in car seat, and diaper or clothing changes. They each come with three outfits, two color-coded diapers, a bottle, car-seat, diaper bag, and blankie. Whatever you do with or to these little guys gets reported right back to my data set. Your grade rests on your ability to respond to your baby's needs in an appropriate and timely fashion. Now, I've never had my own baby, except Lil' Dill. But I've been told these simulators are about as close to the real thing that you can get. Any questions?"