“Maybe he can’t stomach formula,” Weezy said.
What was she going to do? Dawn’s child was unique-the closest thing this world had seen to his species in millennia. Well, except for the creature she and Jack had encountered as kids; she was convinced that had been a q’qr.
“Maybe he needs different food.”
Gia sat across from her, sipping coffee. “We can try something solid when Jack gets back. I mean, he’s got teeth.”
Jack had risen, made a brief appearance-they hadn’t told him about the biting incident yet-and gone out on a bagel run.
“Maybe we don’t have to wait.”
Weezy retrieved the loaf of bread she kept in the refrigerator-she didn’t eat much bread-and tore a length of crust from a slice.
Gia took it and held it before the baby’s mouth. He gave it a cross-eyed look, sniffed it, then chomped-but caught Gia’s fingertip instead.
Gia dropped the crust and sucked on her finger. “Those little teeth are sharp.”
As they watched, he reached out a stubby, black-nailed hand and wrapped it around the crust.
Gia shook her head. “Palm-grabbing already.”
“What’s that?”
“A crude form of grasping. Most babies can’t do that till they’re four months old.”
The end of the crust was sticking out of his fist. He shoved it toward his mouth, missed, tried again, then made it on the third go. He bit off the end and chewed.
Gia’s expression was full of wonder. “Feeding himself…”
But after only a few chews he spit it out, letting the mush drip down his chin.
“So much for bread,” Gia said. She looked at her scraped fingertip. “Seems to like fingers, though.”
“He’s going to starve,” Weezy said.
She felt responsible for Dawn’s baby, for its survival. But this was no ordinary baby. Who did she turn to? She was pretty damn sure Dr. Spock’s book had no sections on the care and feeding of q’qr babies.
Gia didn’t look too concerned. “Usually that’s not a problem with children, even with the fussiest. As a rule, if they get hungry enough, they’ll eat. He’ll-”
The buzzer for the downstairs entrance sounded.
Who could that be? Jack had a key. She carried the baby to the intercom and pressed the talk button.
“Hello?”
“It is I.”
Weezy knew that voice, and the recognition startled her.
“Lady?”
What was she doing here? They’d left her in the Pine Barrens. Even better question: How had she gotten here?
“I wish to visit.”
“Well, um, sure. Of course. Come up.” She buzzed the door open. “Seven-C.”
“I know where you are.”
Well, of course she did.
Gia looked surprised. “The Lady… here?”
“You’ve met?”
Now she looked a little frazzled-Weezy had never imagined Gia’s composure could slip. “Yes… and no.”
Weezy cocked her head toward Vicky who was playing with the Band-Aid on her finger. “Does she…?”
Gia shook her head. “No. Better that way. Gabby-gabby, if you get my drift.”
Weezy got it. Better that Vicky knew nothing about the Lady’s true nature, because she’d talk about her and everyone would think she was either lying or deluded.
A few moments later she arrived, looking perfectly dry and comfortable in her short-sleeved housedress, as if she’d stepped in from a balmy spring day instead of a winter storm that was still snowing and blowing.
Weezy felt a bit awkward introducing her as “The Lady,” but Gia already knew who she was, and Vicky… Vicky seemed unaccountably in awe of her. She stared at the Lady like the baby stared at her.
“I believe we’ve met,” Gia said softly.
The Lady nodded. “Yes, we have.”
“Thank you. I know what you did… thank you.”
“Would that I had been allowed to do more, but it was not possible.”
Gia’s throat worked. “I know that, but…” She glanced at Vicky. “Thank you.”
Weezy had to ask. “How did you get here from the Pines?”
“I walked.”
Gia blinked. “You walked? In this storm? From south Jersey?”
“I do not feel cold or rain or wind. And to be honest, I rode much of the way.”
Weezy had a vision of the Lady walking along the side of Route 206 with her thumb out.
“Don’t tell me you hitched a ride?”
“People are kind to an underdressed old woman caught in a snowstorm.” She focused her attention on the baby in Weezy’s arms. “You hold the reason for my visit. I wished to see him in person.” She leaned in for a closer look. “Interesting.”
The scene struck a discordant note in Weezy.
“But aren’t you aware of everyone?”
“Only the sentient. Newborns aren’t self-aware. And this creature, even when grown, will function mostly by instinct.” The Lady leaned closer. “Where are the tentacles?”
“Tentacles?” Gia said.
“They appear to have been removed,” Weezy said.
The Lady frowned. “Show me, please.”
Weezy unsnapped his shirt and worked his left arm free. She raised it to expose the underarm area. While washing up the baby yesterday she’d looked for the tentacles and had found a healed but recent scar in each axilla.
“If you look closely you can see a little-ohmygod!”
Yesterday when she’d touched the scars she’d felt a little lump beneath each. Now this scar appeared to have split and something was protruding from it. Weezy remembered how Dawn had described the tentacles-“like slim little garter snakes.” This was no more than an inch long, but that was what it looked like. Or maybe a rat tail. As she watched, it curved and straightened.
The Lady nodded, her expression impassive. “They are growing back.”
Gia’s face was ashen.
Vicky, who was out of the line of sight, said, “I have to go to the bathroom, Mom.”
“Go ahead, sweetie.” Gia’s eyes were glued to the tentacle. “Go right ahead.”
With Vicky out of sight, the baby began screeching. He fought Weezy as she tried to reinsert his arm in the sleeve, and struggled maniacally to break free from her grasp.
The screeches were almost nonstop.
Weezy felt ready to burst into tears. How was she going to handle this?
“This is not good,” the Lady said, barely audible over the noise. “You cannot take care of him. As his tentacles regrow to their full length, they will be grabbing everything in sight. Your situation will soon become untenable.”
Weezy had to admit the truth of that, but couldn’t help feeling offended.
“Well, I can’t just throw him out on the street or give him up for adoption.”
She’d love to pass this torch, but to whom? Ideally someone who knew the care and feeding of q’qrs. No one alive today knew that.
The Lady stared at the baby. “Very little in this child is human. He houses more Otherness than humanity. And as such, he should be kept separate from humanity. I know you feel an obligation, a responsibility, but your greater responsibility is to humanity. You must continue your study of the Compendium.”
Yes… the Compendium. No way she could concentrate on that or anything else with this screeching.
“She’s right, Weezy,” Gia said, wincing at a particularly loud shriek. The noise seemed to be causing her physical pain.
Weezy nodded. Only Vicky seemed able to quiet the baby and the girl couldn’t stay with the baby every minute. She looked at the Lady.
“But who?”
“I will take him.”
The Lady caring for a child… she wasn’t even human. Then again, neither was the baby… not quite.
“How will you manage?”
“I know his needs. And I have my ways.” She reached out and placed her palm on the baby’s head. “Hush now. You’ve caused enough disturbance.”
And miraculously, the baby quieted. He stopped struggling and stared at the Lady. Then he held his arms out to her. Weezy saw nothing else to do but hand him over. The Lady cradled him and he remained quiet, staring up at her face.
“If you will give me a blanket,” she said, “I will take him to my home.”
Some small part deep inside felt she was betraying Dawn, but the rest of her knew this was the best course-for her and for the child.
She went to his room and returned with the blanket from his crib.
The Lady wrapped him snugly and said, “You may visit any time you wish.”
And then she walked out.
Weezy felt guilty at the flood of relief when the door closed.
Vicky returned then. “Where’s the baby?”
“The Lady took him to her place, honey,” Gia said. “He’ll be happier there.”
Vicky’s expression said she was pretty happy herself.
Giving in to a need to move, Weezy wandered the room. As she passed the table where she’d left the Compendium, she noticed it was open. She knew she’d left it closed.
She looked at Vicky. “Were you looking through this?”
“That was me,” Gia said. “Hope you don’t mind.”
Weezy stared at the open page.
“Was that okay?” Gia said.
Weezy shook herself. “What? Oh, yes. Of course. It’s just that… is there any reason you left it open at this page?”
Gia approached and looked over her shoulder. “No. I just opened it at random. I was going to flip through but then you said coffee was ready. Why?”
“It’s the same page Vicky opened to last night.”
The Naming Ceremony page…
Odd. The page order in the Compendium was in constant flux-random, chaotic. Not impossible that it could open to the same page twice in a row, but the probability was low.
She closed the book, stepped back, and said, “Do me a favor and open it again-anywhere.”
Gia gave her a puzzled expression, then shrugged and smiled. “I remember how this book used to drive Jack nuts. He could never find anything he wanted. I’ll try near the beginning instead of the middle.” She flipped it open and stared. “Well, I’ll be.”
Weezy checked it and felt a little tickle in her stomach. The Naming Ceremony page lay open.
She closed it again and motioned Vicky over.
“Hey, Vicks. Open this for me, will you? Any page you want.”
“Sure.”
She opened it near the middle… revealing the Naming Ceremony.
Gia glanced at Weezy. “Looks like this old book is trying to tell you something.”
Tell me something? Ridiculous.
Or was it?