A doorstep. Any doorstep would do just so long as she could get rid of him.
She looked down the darkened street and brushed her rain-soaked hair from
her eyes. One house, set slightly back from the road had lights on in the
front room. She sighed thankfully and walked up to it, making sure to stay
hidden in the shadows of the surrounding trees. The bundle in her arms
squirmed and made a little squeak before settling back down into sleep. She
looked down at the baby's little round face, and wondered if she was doing
the right thing. Sixteen was too young to have a child of her own, but she
still felt it wrong to leave him with a total stranger, with no guarantee
of good care. She sighed and stepped back from the house.
'No...I can't...'
The baby moved again and let out a choked cry, and she could tell he was unwell. There was the hospital, only a mile or so away from here, but then she would be expected to take responsibility of the child, it wasn't as though she could just run from him once they were there. The other option, and what seemed like the better one, was the orphanage on the other side of town. Nuns ran it, she hated nuns, but at least there was a better possibility of the baby getting the care he needed from someone who knew what they were doing, rather than a naïve sixteen year old girl who had made the biggest mistake of her life eleven months ago. She wasn't cut out for motherhood, not yet, and probably not ever. She flagged down a cab and asked the driver to take her as far as her pathetically small amount of money would allow.
"That your kid, honey?" the driver asked, looking in the rear view mirror upon the ashen face of his young passenger. She nodded and jumped, startled when the baby gurgled softly and tugged on her shirt button.
"Kinda young aintchya?" he asked, "How old is he?"
"Two months" she answered, pulling his tiny hand off the button and wrapping the blanket around him tighter. The cab turned a corner and stopped outside a closed café. She handed the driver the money and climbed out. The baby sighed, and she looked up into the starlit sky.
"Why me?" she asked, hoping someone was listening. The rain started to fall heavier now, and she hurried along the street. The huge building of the orphanage loomed ahead, and she made her way for it, keeping her head down against the vicious onslaught of wind and rain. The doors were closed; she lifted the huge iron knocker and let it fall against the wood softly.
A light came on inside and the huge wooden door creaked open. An old woman's face appeared in the crack between the door and frame. She was in her nightgown and had a woollen shawl draped over her old, hunched shoulders. She looked up with tired eyes at the young girl before her.
"Can I help you, dear?" The girl nodded quickly and pushed the child into the old woman's arms. "Forgive me, my son..." she said, then turned and ran back down the path to the street, tears flowing down her face. The woman stood, dumbfounded in the doorway, with the squirming baby in her arms. He cried hoarsely.
"Nasty cold you have there" she said, still looking down the street "let's get you some medicine."
She closed the door over, and another woman came down the stairs to her side.
"Who was it, Sister?"
"I don't know, a young girl, she left..." The other woman gasped when she saw the child in the Sister's arms, chewing on the corner of its baby blue blanket.
"Did she give a name?"
"No, she just threw him at me then left, she looked so young and scared..."
"Tell the reverend mother in the morning, I'll take him for now." The older woman handed the child over to the younger Sister and locked the doors again. She looked again into the child's bright green eyes, and he took time out of chewing the blanket to return her gaze.
"Come on little mister" the Sister said, "let's get you fed and changed hmm?"
The older nun made her way slowly up the stairs, gripping the polished wooden banister for support. She looked back over her shoulder to the Sister holding the baby.
"Put him in room four with the others when you're done Sister Rose." Sister Rose nodded and took the child into the kitchen and fed him from a freshly made bottle. She changed him and put the blanket into the laundry basket, dressing the child in a white baby grow. She took him down the hall towards the rooms and entered room four quietly. The room, painted in pastel blues and pinks, had little wooden cribs lined up against both walls, two rows of five. Toys were piled neatly in the corners and each crib had a little wall plaque with the name of its occupant engraved on it. Sister Rose laid the little boy into an empty crib, the plaque above which said 'Jessica', being the name of its previous occupant.
She pulled the soft blanket up over the little body and waited for him to settle. He wriggled into the cover and his eyes fluttered a little before closing softly. Sister Rose smiled warmly.
"Goodnight, little one" she whispered, and left the room, switching the nightlight on as she neared the door. Its gentle green glow flooded the room, but the children did not stir. She closed the door and switched out the hall lights on her way back upstairs. The building was silent for now.
The baby moved again and let out a choked cry, and she could tell he was unwell. There was the hospital, only a mile or so away from here, but then she would be expected to take responsibility of the child, it wasn't as though she could just run from him once they were there. The other option, and what seemed like the better one, was the orphanage on the other side of town. Nuns ran it, she hated nuns, but at least there was a better possibility of the baby getting the care he needed from someone who knew what they were doing, rather than a naïve sixteen year old girl who had made the biggest mistake of her life eleven months ago. She wasn't cut out for motherhood, not yet, and probably not ever. She flagged down a cab and asked the driver to take her as far as her pathetically small amount of money would allow.
"That your kid, honey?" the driver asked, looking in the rear view mirror upon the ashen face of his young passenger. She nodded and jumped, startled when the baby gurgled softly and tugged on her shirt button.
"Kinda young aintchya?" he asked, "How old is he?"
"Two months" she answered, pulling his tiny hand off the button and wrapping the blanket around him tighter. The cab turned a corner and stopped outside a closed café. She handed the driver the money and climbed out. The baby sighed, and she looked up into the starlit sky.
"Why me?" she asked, hoping someone was listening. The rain started to fall heavier now, and she hurried along the street. The huge building of the orphanage loomed ahead, and she made her way for it, keeping her head down against the vicious onslaught of wind and rain. The doors were closed; she lifted the huge iron knocker and let it fall against the wood softly.
A light came on inside and the huge wooden door creaked open. An old woman's face appeared in the crack between the door and frame. She was in her nightgown and had a woollen shawl draped over her old, hunched shoulders. She looked up with tired eyes at the young girl before her.
"Can I help you, dear?" The girl nodded quickly and pushed the child into the old woman's arms. "Forgive me, my son..." she said, then turned and ran back down the path to the street, tears flowing down her face. The woman stood, dumbfounded in the doorway, with the squirming baby in her arms. He cried hoarsely.
"Nasty cold you have there" she said, still looking down the street "let's get you some medicine."
She closed the door over, and another woman came down the stairs to her side.
"Who was it, Sister?"
"I don't know, a young girl, she left..." The other woman gasped when she saw the child in the Sister's arms, chewing on the corner of its baby blue blanket.
"Did she give a name?"
"No, she just threw him at me then left, she looked so young and scared..."
"Tell the reverend mother in the morning, I'll take him for now." The older woman handed the child over to the younger Sister and locked the doors again. She looked again into the child's bright green eyes, and he took time out of chewing the blanket to return her gaze.
"Come on little mister" the Sister said, "let's get you fed and changed hmm?"
The older nun made her way slowly up the stairs, gripping the polished wooden banister for support. She looked back over her shoulder to the Sister holding the baby.
"Put him in room four with the others when you're done Sister Rose." Sister Rose nodded and took the child into the kitchen and fed him from a freshly made bottle. She changed him and put the blanket into the laundry basket, dressing the child in a white baby grow. She took him down the hall towards the rooms and entered room four quietly. The room, painted in pastel blues and pinks, had little wooden cribs lined up against both walls, two rows of five. Toys were piled neatly in the corners and each crib had a little wall plaque with the name of its occupant engraved on it. Sister Rose laid the little boy into an empty crib, the plaque above which said 'Jessica', being the name of its previous occupant.
She pulled the soft blanket up over the little body and waited for him to settle. He wriggled into the cover and his eyes fluttered a little before closing softly. Sister Rose smiled warmly.
"Goodnight, little one" she whispered, and left the room, switching the nightlight on as she neared the door. Its gentle green glow flooded the room, but the children did not stir. She closed the door and switched out the hall lights on her way back upstairs. The building was silent for now.