I do not own American Horror Story: Freakshow.
I doubt Ryan Murphy would even recognize it now.
Wherever You Are
Chasing to Catch Up
The baby was crawling.
Crawling.
Just a baby, just a potato with a head, 'wow, isn't it that cute' but then he was sitting up and pushing himself up and, yes, it had taken weeks and weeks and weeks for all that to happen but then boom! there he was, just, like, doing it.
Like he didn't even know he was too damn young or something.
Just sittin' and rollin' and rockin'.
And then he had started scooting, scooting, with one leg bent in and one leg stretched out like a dowsing rod.
Pointed right at Scruffy Sam the Sublime.
As if The Baby had been watching The Dog for months and months and months.
Plotting his approach, his plan.
Of attack.
Scruffy Sam, who had initially seemed be somewhat alarmed that the potato with a head was moving.
"Whine."
"I know, man. You got a fan."
But quickly caught up with the interplay as if it was the best time ever.
So the baby would scoot and Sam would scoot and together they would scoot all over their house.
Or Moms and Daddy's house. Or the backyard or wherever they happened to be at that time.
Scoot scoot scoot.
Inch by inch by inch, little by little by little.
Until Sam had to scoot more and more and faster and faster so that his cold, wet nose would not get taken by the no-more-potato baby too.
The Baby, That Baby.
Babbling and giggling and grinning and grunting and cooing all over the place.
"Guh!"
Oh my god. That baby. He's . . . he's amazing.
And he was.
And if Patrick had trouble going to work before . . .
"'Bye, Little Jimmy, I love you."
. . . it was only worse now . . .
"Budda, Bubba, bay-"
"Did he say 'bye?!'"
"Maybe."
"Awww . . ."
. . . for the doting daddy and his bouncing baby boy.
"Do you remember when I ran away from home?"
They were in the Florida sunshine, watching Little Jimmy play in the backyard grass.
The temperature was just at baking and they had been about to suggest a nice glass of iced tea in the slightly less humid kitchen.
And now, this.
Which time, Dear Darling Daughter? Miami or Colorado?
No time for snark now, Sister.
As old as we are, Dot, now is always the time for snark.
"Yes."
Annabel wasn't looking at them, but seemed focused on her crawling son.
"Why, darling?"
Although her mind seemed far afield.
"You never gave me shit about it."
Language, darling.
No, not now.
"Well, of course not, Annabel. We were just grateful to have you home safe."
A brief pause.
"You never gave me shit about going away to Colorado either."
How many times is she going to say 'shit', Sister?
Knowing Annabel, probably at least one more.
"No."
More consideration as the gurgling baby discovered a fluttering butterfly that fluttered itself around his wispy head more than once.
"And you didn't even give me shit-"
There it is.
Good. You've won the lottery of our daughter's potty mouth. Congratulations.
"-about coming back home unmarried and pregnant either."
They turned then, as one, always now one, to their only child.
"What are you getting at, Annabel?"
"And please don't say 'shit' again."
Dot-
Oh hush, I have rights too.
"The baby will learn it."
A small, amused smile from their beautiful daughter who was now also a mother.
"Sorry. No, you guys have always been there for me. No matter what. No matter what I said or how I treated you. You've never given up on me. Never."
I almost did. Remember the time she asked us if cows ruled the world would they drink human milk?
A mother's love can only stretch so far.
And then the Annabel in question cut into their shared musing with a sentence they had always known in their hearts but had never really entirely expected to hear aloud.
"I'm so grateful you guys are my mothers. I love you."
Oh my heart.
It hurts.
"Oh Annabel," they spoke together. "We love you."
And the women of the Walker/Anderson clan embraced with hugs and some tears and, of course, giggles.
Until that is, Little Jimmy reached too high for the teasing butterfly.
And tumbled over backward.
Erupting into surprised and outraged cries of distress.
Until, of course, his mother and grandmothers loved him back to full and robust health.
Why did we come into this room, Sister?
To make some tea, Bette.
Oh. Of course.
Are you alright?
Yes. Of course.
That's two of courses so far.
Oh hush.
And you forgot we were supposed to babysit Little Jimmy yesterday.
Everyone forgets somethings sometimes.
And you forgot about Patty's baby shower last month.
Well, Patty needs to stop having so many kids. Now will you stop making such a fuss?
Jimmy Darling Walker was and, for the most part, had always been, a happy-go-lucky kinda guy.
Oh, he'd had some dark times here and there.
But he'd always come out of them eventually.
". . . by with a little help from my friends . . ."
Now that's a sweet tune right there-
With a little help.
Well . . .
"Darling!"
"Darling!"
"Girls!"
. . . alot of help, really.
And now, with so much life lived . . .
"Hey, little girl, what're you doin'?"
"Drawing a picture for Ma-Da and Ma-Ba."
"Is that a . . . dolphin on top of our house?"
"Yeah, it's what the Tooth Fairy rides to our house on Easter."
"Oh. Uh, well . . ."
. . . it only seemed to be getting . . .
"Girls! Girls! Come look at this!"
. . . better.
"What? What is i-"
"Oh my lord!"
The Baby, aka Little Man, wanted to stand up.
Practiced really hard.
And his favorite thing to practice pulling up on?
Granddaddy Jimmy's shiny . . .
"Are you getting this?"
. . . smooth . . .
"Yes, darling!"
. . metal . . .
"Does the red light mean it's working?"
. . . hooks.
"I think so."
Awww . . .
"Come on, Little Man, you can do it!"
"Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-gah!"
. . . would ya get a loada this?
Goodness, Dot? Are you alright?
Y-y-yes, just . . . give me a minute.
What is it?
Nothing. I just . . . I just . . . lost my breath for a moment.
Perhaps we should make some honey and lemon for that cough.
Alright.
"Oh. My. God. Break the mirror."
"What?"
Annabel stared at her clueless husband.
"The mirror!"
Her handsome husband with his warm hazel eyes.
Her husband who hadn't just given birth to a watermelon with fused fingers less than a year ago.
The one who was currently baffled.
"Why would I break the mirror?"
How could he not see it?
Was he blind?
"Patrick, seriously! Look at me!"
He didn't seem to have a problem with that request.
"You're beautiful. You look great."
Great. Whatever.
Mis-matched undergarments on full display.
Along with her floppy belly and fat ass.
"I'm a freakin' marshmallow, man!"
Eight months it had been.
And despite all her dieting . . .
"Cottage cheese, ugh-"
. . . in the world . . .
"Want some French fries?"
"Hell no. This last five pounds just won't budge."
. . . she still had a jelly belly.
"You look great to me."
Thunder thighs.
"You enjoy though."
And a fat, jiggly . . .
"Are you being sarcastic?"
. . . backside.
"A little."
Walking was boring.
Running was worse.
But there was this new thing.
"Do I have to wear the g-string?"
"No. But it'll make your ass look great."
Jazzercise.
"Okay."
Full of Lycra.
Polyester.
Neon.
And . . .
"Wait, why?"
"It's a fashion statement."
Braided headbands.
"With all this crap strapped to me, how am I supposed to exercise?"
"Heroin."
"What?"
"Coke?"
"What?"
"What's your thing?"
"Uh . . . not snorting shit up my nose?"
"Fine. Suit yourself."
"I will, thanks."
Still, she tried it.
". . . six, seven, eight-"
The Jazzercise.
"Yeah-"
Not the drugs.
"Work it-"
And found it . . .
"Come on, harder-"
. . . a mixed bag . . .
"Come on, feel it-"
. . . of emotions.
"Burn it-"
I'm trying, man-
"And down! And down!"
This music is on drugs-
"Come on, further-"
That guy needs to tuck his junk back into those shorts-
"And hit the floor-"
Or I need to get Patrick a pair of those shorts-
"Press it! Press it!"
I bet he wouldn't - wait you want me to do what?
In public?
Wearing this?
I'm going home.
"How was Jazzer- wow."
"What?"
"Is that - what you wore?"
"Yeah? So?"
"Uhhh . . ."
"You like it?"
"Yeah."
"So how was Jazzercise, Annabel?"
"It was okay. Weird. I don't think I'll go back. I was too self conscious."
"Oh."
"We'd hoped you'd find something to enjoy."
Annabel shrug.
"I'm keepin' the clothes though."
Another bite of cheesecake.
"They look good off me. Can I have some more cheesecake?"
"Of course, darling."
. . .
Wait, what did she say?
Hello again!
Winter break for me here and I'm really hoping to make some good progress on this story. I have so much tell you!
I mean, the Walker/Andersons have so much to tell you!
Ahem.
Anyway, going to post daily from now until Tuesday. Then I may take a break depending on how much painkillers I'm on after my surgery.
But hopefully that won't last too long.
Thanks to brigid1318, midnightrebellion86, and Dinahray for reviewing before.
See you tomorrow! :D