Child of Freedom
Chapter 3- The Babysitter
The next day, Dr. Hureaux came over early in the morning and examined the baby. He told Pierre and myself that the baby was female, and was perfectly healthy. Pierre spoke to me about it after the doctor had gone.
"Rebecca, we should send the child to the nuns for adoption." He suggested.
"No," I said flatly. "I know what it's like being an adopted child, never knowing where your real parents came from. I don't want her growing up as a foster child. She doesn't need that kind of hurt and confusion in her life." I took a deep breath. "I'll take care of her." I said.
"You?" Pierre asked incredulously. "I'm sorry, Rebecca, but you don't know the first thing about taking care of a child."
"All the better to learn early." I retorted, cradling the baby in my arms. She was fast asleep with her thumb in her mouth.
"Whatever," Pierre said. "I don't want to get into a fight right now. I have work to do." He began to prepare the food for the party.
I fed the baby quickly and went to help Pierre with the preparations. As we worked, we talked about who would be at the party. But the earlier ease was gone from our conversation. We mostly concentrated on getting the food prepared.
Finally, with only a few things that still needed to be done, Pierre said. "You can go and get ready for the party, if you want," He paused, and I could see the shame-faced look he had on. "I forgot to tell you earlier that Madame said you were allowed to attend." He turned his head away from me.
"Then I'll go get ready now." I said briskly, and hurried into my room, carrying the baby with me. I changed into an outdoor dress, and left the house.
If I wanted to attend the party, I needed to find someone who could take care of the baby. I hurried along the cobblestone streets and stopped in front of the Opera Populaire. I went inside and hurried to the dressing room that I knew had a way into the tunnels underneath the Opera.
I had nearly reached it when I felt a strong grip on my shoulder. I whirled around to see Erik put a finger to his lips. Then he led me through another entrance, and down to his home.
"Erik," I said. "I need a favor."
"What is it?" He asked. He seemed a little unsure about whether or not he would do it.
"I need you to watch the baby for me." I said, and I held the little baby girl out to him.
Erik backed up with his hands held out in defense. "No way," he said. "I'm not going to let you stick me with diaper duty." He shook his head fiercely.
"Come on," I said. "Please?" I held the baby up and showed him how cute she was. "Isn't she adorable?" I asked in high voice. I held the baby close and cuddled her. She cooed and held up a hand to play with my hair, which had longer since I had been there.
"I don't think so." Erik said, backing up. "Besides," he continued. "I don't know the first thing about taking care of a baby." He looked me square in the face, and I could tell that he was wrinkling his nose in disgust. "And what if it poops?" He asked. He said it as though having to poop was the most disgusting thing he had ever heard of.
"Then you change her diaper," I said matter-of-factly. "And there's nothing wrong with that. Everyone has to poop," I looked at him pointedly. "Even you have pooped, I'll bet."
"But I can do that myself," he said. "I don't need someone to wipe my bum."
"Well I would hope so," I said. "Otherwise you wouldn't deserve to take care of this little cutie pie." I tickled the baby's tummy. She laughed and grabbed my finger. Then she stuck it in her mouth and chewed on it with her toothless gums. "Isn't she cute?" I squeaked.
"Oh, yes, "Erik said sarcastically. "She's the most adorable thing I've ever seen."
"Well you don't have to be rude about it." I stated, holding the baby closer.
"What would I feed it, though?" He asked hopelessly.
I smiled. I knew I had him cornered. I handed the baby to him, and adjusted the position in which he held her.
"Make sure to support her head, as she is still very young and can't fully support it herself." I said and tucked in the baby's blankets. "You would prepare her a bottle of milk." I answered his question.
"And how exactly do you expect an ex-phantom to do that?" He asked pointedly.
"First, you boil some milk," I said. "Then you let it sit for a while so it's not too hot." I smiled as the baby tried to reach for Erik's mask.
"Then what?" He asked, rocking the baby a bit.
"Then you test the milk on your wrist to make sure that it's only lukewarm." I said. "If it's lukewarm, then you feed her. If it isn't, you let the bottle sit for a little while longer." I sat down on the sofa. "Once you've finished feeding her, you have to burp her." I said. "That means that you drape a towel over your shoulder, and then you let her lean against your shoulder with your hand supporting the back of her head. Make sure that her head is facing behind you."
Erik tried to hold the baby the way I instructed for practice. I stood up to help him.
"Like this," I said, and adjusted his hand so it was gently supporting her head. "Then you lightly tap her on the back." Erik began to gently pat her back. "That's right." I said. "Sometimes she'll burp, and sometimes she won't. If, after a few minutes nothing happens, then you can just put her down for a nap. I brought the basket to be used as a cradle." I held up the basket.
Erik nodded. "So then what's the towel for?" He asked.
"Well," I said. "Sometimes when you're burping a baby, the baby will spit up something instead of burping. The towel is so you don't get you're clothes all messy and covered in baby vomit."
"How pleasant," Erik said sarcastically.
"So you'll do it?" I asked.
"All right," Erik sighed.
"Thank you, Erik!" I exclaimed. "You're the greatest!" I gave him a gentle hug. I had to be careful not to squash the baby.
"Why do I let you talk me into these things?" He asked rhetorically.
"Because you're my friend, and you want me to have a good time at Mme's party." I said, smiling.
"I just have one last question," Erik said as I turned to leave.
"What?" I asked.
"What's the baby's name?" He asked.
"I haven't given her a name." I said. "I can't think of any names that would suit her." I added. "But you're free to name her while I'm gone," I waved and left Erik alone with the baby.
-
Erik asked himself again for the umpteenth time as to why he allowed himself to be suckered into taking care of a baby. Rebecca had been gone for an hour, and the whole time the baby hadn't stopped crying.
Erik had tried everything. He had tried feeding the baby, but she wasn't hungry. He had checked her diaper, but she didn't need a change. He had tried rocking her to sleep, but she just kept on screaming. At this rate, it would let everyone in the Opera House know that someone was living underneath it.
Erik tried rocking her again. She continued to scream. Then, all of a sudden, she stopped. She reached out for his mask, but her moved her tiny hand away. She screamed again.
Erik was at his wit's end. Finally, Erik tried lulling her to sleep with a song. Rebecca had taught him a lullaby called, Close Your Eyes. It was short, and soft. Erik figured it was exactly what the baby needed. (A/N: If you want to know the words, check out Wandering Child, Chapter 5)
The baby was asleep in almost an instant. Erik finished singing the lullaby, and gently laid the baby in the basket. She breathed peacefully in her slumber. Erik sighed, relieved that she had finally stopped crying.
Erik remembered that Rebecca had said her could name the baby. He spent most of the time she was asleep contemplating what name would suit the baby. He finally decided that no name he knew would suit her. She seemed so helpless, and yet, at the same time, independent. Finally, Erik decided on something unusual. He decided that she should be called, Lynaea.
A/N: Okay, so it's not the greatest chapter. But think about what Erik had to go through. Poor guy! He has no idea how to take care of a baby. By the way, the name Lynaea is pronounced Lynn-eh-uh. Review, please and tell me what you think.
