Chapter 1: Before Breakfast

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Where's Papa going with that ax?" said Rosie to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.

"Out to the hospital," replied Nightmare Rosie. "I gave birth to your baby sister at 3:00 AM."

"I don't see why he needs an ax," continued Rosie, who was only thirteen. "Well," said her mother, "she is a month premature. she's very small and weak, and she will never amount to anything. So your father has decided to do away with her."

"Do away with her?" shrieked Rosie. "You mean kill her? Just because she's premature?"

Nightmare Rosie put a pitcher of cream on the table. "Don't yell, Rosie!" she said. "Your father is right. The baby would probably die anyway."

Rosie pushed a chair out of the way and ran outdoors. The grass was wet and the earth smelled of summertime. Rosie's sneakers were sopping by the time she caught up with her father.

"Please don't kill her!" she sobbed. "It's unfair."

Nightmare Foxy stopped walking.

"Rosie," he said gently, "you will have to learn to control yourself."

"Control myself?" yelled Rosie. "This is a matter of life and death, and you talk about fucking controlling myself." Tears ran down her cheeks and she took hold of the ax and tried to pull it out of her father's hand.

"Rosie," said Nightmare Foxy, "I know more about raising babies than you do. A weakling makes trouble. Now run along!"

"But it's unfair," cried Rosie. "The baby couldn't help being born small, could she? If I had been very small at birth, would you have killed me?"

Nightmare Foxy smiled. "Certainly not," he said, looking down at his daughter with love. "But this is different. A little girl is one thing, a premature baby is another."

"I see no difference," replied Rosie, still hanging on to the ax. "This is the most terrible case of injustice I ever heard of."

A queer look came over Nightmare Foxy's face. He seemed almost ready to cry himself.

"All right," he said. "You go back to the house and I will bring your premature baby sister when I come in. I'll let you start her on a bottle, like a baby. Then you'll see what trouble a sibling can be."

When Nightmare Foxy returned to the house half an hour later, he carried a carton under his arm. Rosie was upstairs changing her sneakers. The kitchen table was set for breakfast, and the room smelled of coffee, bacon, damp plaster, and wood smoke from the stove.

"Put her on her chair!" said Nightmare Rosie. Nightmare Rosie set the carton down at Rosie's place. Then he walked to the sink and washed his hands and dried them on the roller towel.

Rosie came slowly down the stairs. Her eyes were red from crying. As she approached her chair, the carton wobbled, and there was a scratching noise. Rosie looked at her father. Then she lifted the lid of the carton. There, inside, looking up at her, was the newborn baby girl. she was a pink one with red cheeks and blue eyes.

"She's yours," said Nightmare Foxy. "Saved from an untimely death. And may the good Lord forgive me for this foolishness."

Fern couldn't take her eyes off the tiny baby girl. "Oh," she whispered. "Oh, look at her! She's absolutely perfect."

She closed the carton carefully. First she kissed her father, then she kissed her mother. Then she opened the lid again, lifted the baby girl out, and held her against her cheek. At this moment her brother Foxy came into the room. Foxy was fifteen. He was heavily armed -- an air rifle in one hand, a wooden dagger in the other.

"What's that?" he demanded. "What's Rosie got?"

"She's got a guest for breakfast," said Nightmare Rosie. "Wash your hands and face, Foxy."

"Let's see her!" said Foxy, setting his gun down. "You call that miserable thing a baby? That's a fine specimen of a baby -- she's no bigger than a white rat."

"Wash up and eat your breakfast, Foxy!" said his mother. "The school bus will be along in half an hour."

"Can I be in charge of the baby, too, Pop?" asked Foxy.

"No, I only distribute babies to early risers," said Nightmare Foxy. "Rosie was up at daylight, trying to rid the world of injustice. As a result, she now has a baby sister. A small one, to be sure, but nevertheless a baby sister. It just shows what can happen if a person gets out of bed promptly. Let's eat!"

But Rosie couldn't eat until her baby sister had had a drink of milk. Nightmare Rosie found a baby's nursing bottle and a rubber nipple. She poured warm milk into the bottle, fitted the nipple over the top, and handed it to . "Give your baby sister her breakfast!" she said.

A minute later, Rosie was seated on the floor in the corner of the kitchen with her infant sister between her knees, teaching it to suck from the bottle. The baby girl, although tiny, had a good appetite and caught on quickly.

The school bus honked from the road.

"Run!" commanded Nightmare Rosie, taking the baby girl from Rosie and slipping a doughnut into her hand. Foxy grabbed his gun and another doughnut.

The teens ran out to the road and climbed into the bus. Rosie took no notice of the others in the bus. She just sat and stared out of the window, thinking what a blissful world it was and how lucky she was to have entire charge of a baby. By the time the bus reached school, Rosie had named her baby sister, selecting the most beautiful name she could think of.

"Her name is Toy Rosie," she whispered to herself.

She was still thinking about the pig when the teacher said: "Rosie, what is the capital of Prince Edward Island?"

"Toy Rosie," said Rosie, dreamily. The pupils giggled. Rosie blushed.

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