Boon: Book 7

Epilogue

Since it's lame to give you all an announcement without a story update, I offer you this little epilogue to Boon! 

Why the announcement? Today is the year anniversary of Wendy, the kindle book I wrote to help put food on the table LITERALLY, as in I'm having a hard time paying for food and the basics. If you can, please drop by and pick up a copy of it. It is most delightful, and yes, I did make sure to make it worthy of a gallon of milk or two.

It's titled "Wendy" and you can find it on Amazon under the pen name T.S. Lowe, along with my other published works. I've put a synopsis at the end of this chapter to save you time in deciding whether you are interested in not.

Now I'll get out of your way...

The digital clock glowed 2:20am, and pale streetlight shone through the cracks in the curtain. Our bed had been mussed, and I couldn't remember the last time it had been made. I didn't want to be in the doorway, looking in at the bed and Naru's shirtless figure leaning his face into his hands.

But Eugene was crying. My baby was crying, and I could hear the pain in his wails with the ultra sensitivity of a mother.

"I can't do it," I croaked. "I've—I've done everything I can think of."

"Does he have a fever?" Naru asked quietly.

"No. And he won't eat either. I've bounced him and sung to him and walked with him..."I couldn't speak anymore, as great, heavy sobs took up my throat. It didn't pass by me how strange it was that the world was ending because I had gone beyond exhaustion as I'd never known and I couldn't help my baby. It consumed me. It pushed me to the floor and against the wall, where I curled up near the doorframe.

It was proof of how far gone Naru was too, as he didn't comment on my distress, not even to tell me I was being over dramatic. He just got out of the bed and crouched down to hug me. The hug moved to my knees and back and he lifted me with a grunt back onto the bed.

"I'll take over," he said.

"But—but—" but Naru had even less experience with babies than me. Some crazed fear born of my worn mama nerves and sleep-flayed brain cells started yipping about Naru losing his cool and flipping out at Eugene—or worse, just leaving him to flail and cry alone, like I had just done.

I jumped out of bed and fluttered towards the doorway, ruining Naru's efforts. He had already turned back to the room once taken by Lin, but had now been turned into a nursery of turtles and owls. It glowed a soft green from the turtle night light.

In a crib, beneath a mobile of owls and stars, Eugene screamed with every muscle of his little body. The green light canceled out what I knew to be a brilliantly scarlet face.

"I can—" I started, but Naru was already picking him up.

"Go back to bed," he said, hanging the momentarily surprised Eugene on his forearm, belly down. For a glorious few seconds of quiet, Eugene's big dark eyes stared at the floor, chubby cheek pressed against the side of his father's elbow. Then the crying started up again, albeit not with so much vigor. It was a bit harder for Eugene to use the rest of his body in hefting screams when on his belly and having his back pat by a hand nearly the same size as it.

"Like I'd be able to sleep," I said, pressing more tears out from my eyes. They had puffed up to the point I didn't feel the tears until I couldn't see and had to squeeze them out, like my eyelids had turned to sponges.

"Then do what you want, but I'm taking a turn."

Naru walked out into the living room. I followed after him like the many waifs we had studied in days gone. He opened up the blinds onto the cityscape and took to pacing in front of it, patting Eugene's back and humming. It took me some time of trembling, tear oozing listening on the couch to recognize the song from a utility closet in a mansion, where a Kuman Thong slept. Even sleep deprived as he was, Naru was perfectly in tune, though his notes slurred and jumped.