Absent Mother - Part 1

White knuckles strained against skin as he squeezed the bars tighter and mouthed the top of the crib. Mucous slid down his upper lip into his mouth as he sucked in air and sputtered another cry. His whimpering cries could be heard outside the window of his bedroom, but no one was there to respond. Tears marched down his puffed red cheeks and his sweaty hair stuck like wet feathers to his forehead.

Red footie pajamas clung to his upper thighs hanging on and reeking of urine. The pee-logged diaper sagged to his knees hanging on by Velcro to baby hips. He sucked more air in rapid succession like a machine gun and exhaled “Mamaaaaaa.....”

Not a hair on his head was dry. His scalp was moist and emanating heat like a sunlamp. Giving up, he dropped in a heap onto his soggy diaper and curled up on his side-- still staccato breathing. Resignedly, his thumb slid to his mouth and closed up the cries like a cork. Still breathing rapidly, his nose blew bubbles, trying to inhale and exhale. Pop, his thumb dropped to the mattress next to his forehead. Slowly, his whimpers became sighs as swollen lids dropped like window shades.

Mama rushed to the front of the apartment building and avoided her neighbor sucking on his cigarette on the cement step. "That baby of yours been screaming again. Woke me up from my nap."

She twisted the key hard and flung the lobby door open. "Babies cry," she said and mounted the stairs two at a time to her apartment.

"Wonder why someone would let him just cry like that?" he threw at her back.

Mama crept in and hearing nothing, she closed the front door with extra care so not even a click announced her entrance. She tiptoed through the hallway, and barely rested her ear on the outside of the bedroom door. Her hand turned the knob one inch at a time, avoiding the squeak she knew would wake the baby. She peeked between the door and the jamb and rested her eyes on the beautiful love of her life. His cheek pressed into the mattress and his bottom was raised up, knees tucked under.

She crept in, snuck to his bed and walked into a wall of drenched diaper smell just in front of his crib. Greenish yellow crusts ringed his nostrils and his hair stuck to his neck. Mama cupped his bottom with her hand and felt the sagging wet diaper.

“Poor baby,” slid from her mouth. But he was sleeping soundly now, it would be best to change him when he woke.


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The honking out in front of the apartment building demanded her attention as she slammed the car door and raced out from the back parking lot toward the yellow school bus.

“I'm home, I'm home! Don't leave yet!” Her arms waved and captured the bus driver's attention.

Her kindergartner's head hung as he picked up his backpack and stood up from the front seat of the empty bus. The folding door screeched as it opened and Tommy dropped from step to step to exit.

White hair bobbed and a forehead creased as anger charged from the driver's mouth, assaulting the boy's mother. “You weren't here again! Next time, he's coming with me back to the bus yard.”

She glared at the driver and grabbed Tommy's hand, “I was in the shower!”

With a roar and a spew of black smoke, the bus charged down the street away from the building.

Slippery words floated out, “Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you in the shower, but I WAS here.”

Once in their apartment, Tommy's backpack met the floor with a thud and the boy watched her under his dark lashes. “I had to stay on the bus again until everybody else got off.”

Fingers tousled his hair and lips brushed his cheek, “You're fine. That dumb bus driver should've let you off. It's so stupid that I have to be there, you're a big boy, right?" Tommy blinked.

“I'll make your favorite lunch. You can even eat while you watch Arthur.” Tommy picked up the remote and woke the TV. Arthur, the Aardvark, marched down the street. The boy scooted his bottom to the back of the couch and laughed at the screen as Buster dropped Arthur's sandwich on the floor.

In the background, he heard his baby brother in the next room call, “Mamaaa....” from his crib.