End of Innocence v2.0
By Dixxy
Chapter Six: The Choice
I stared at Sheila, unsure of what to say. My head was swimming with thoughts of shock, denial, and a sort of subdued amazement. Sheila had gotten pregnant. She'd gotten pregnant by me. There was now a little person in the world with my blood flowing through their veins. "You mean. . . you had. . ."
"Yes, Cye, just say it. One of your God damned swimmers won the gold medal. You put a bun in the oven. You knocked me up," she said, getting bitter again. "You put me through the WORST nine months of my life! Do you have any idea what it's like to have back pains from your stomach being the size of a beach ball? Or how about labor? You try pushing something the size of a watermelon through a hole the size of a penny!"
I gaped at her. "You've had the baby, then," I said.
"Yes, I had the little bitch," she said.
"A girl," I said in amazement. "You delivered a baby girl."
"Yeah, I did. Little spore wouldn't stop screaming," she said.
I bit my lip, begging to get angry. "How can you say such a thing about your own daughter! Your own child!" I snapped. I pointed a finger at her accusingly. "How can you say such an immature thing like that. If you're willing to have sex at sixteen then you should be willing to accept the consequences of what could and obviously did happen!"
"Hey, it isn't MY fault my method of birth control failed," she said.
"What kind of birth control did you use?" I asked, my teeth gritted.
"Coke," she said. "It's supposed to be a sperm killer."
I really wanted to comment on her stupidity. Urban birth control methods never worked, don't work, and never WILL work. But as much as I wanted to scream and yell at her for being such an idiot, I didn't. Not now. The situation between us had gotten even tenser now that there was a child involved. A baby. . .
I think that's when it really hit me that I was a father. Oh, yes, I was able to recognize that something happened, but no, this time it REALLY hit me (kind of like how it doesn't hit the father of the bride his daughter is getting married until he's walking her down the isle). It hit me that Sheila really had gotten pregnant, carried the baby for nine months, and gave birth. It really hit me that I had a daughter. It really hit me that there was a little, tiny person in this world that I had (however so unwillingly) helped to create.
"May I. . . may I. . . hold her?" I asked slowly. Sheila stared at me, then handed me the bundle she had in her arms. Gently, I took her in my own arms and stared down at her. The bundle was wrapped in pink blankets, which I pulled away to see the face of a tiny baby. The baby was sleeping, eyes shut, oblivious to the world around her.
I could've cried right then. Suddenly, the rape didn't matter to me anymore. This new baby girl did. She was so small, so tiny. . . and she was mine. My child. I looked at her long and hard, amazed at what had happened. Is this what I felt a few nights ago? Did I sense my child's birth? Did I?
"Yeah, yeah, she's bald and she poops, big deal," said Sheila.
"What are you going to do with her?" I asked, looking up at my ex with interest. That thought scared me, actually. Considering what she'd done to me, what would she do to a defenseless baby? Even if it was her own child. I knew Sheila. I knew that she only cared about herself. What would she care if some horrible fate met the baby?
"Pop her in the orphanage," she said.
"What?" I said, looking up at Sheila in alarm. "You can't be serious!"
"Why do you think I came over here, you stupid son of a bitch? Of COURSE I'm going to the orphanage to get rid of her!" she said. Then, she narrowed her eyes as she advanced on me. "For that matter, what are YOU doing here?" she asked me. "Why are you hanging around the orphanage, Cye? You don't have a reason to be here?
"I was out for a walk, actually, but. . . Sheila, you know the stories surrounding this place. You've heard Ryo talking about what it's like in there!" I said, balancing holding the baby and pointing at the building. "You and I both know the stories are true. Why would you want to put someone through that?"
"Why should I care what happens to her once she's out of my hands?" she said. "I didn't want her, you didn't want her, so now we can get rid of her and got on with our lives. Why should I waste the rest of my teenage years taking care of a whining, crying little brat when I can go to dances, get laid and goof around?"
I looked down at the baby, trying to come up with an idea. I closed my eyes, realizing what I had to do. Was it something I wanted to do? I wasn't sure. Was it something I had to do? Yes. Yes, this was something I absolutely had to do. I would never forgive myself if I didn't do it. "Maybe you should speak for yourself," I said.
Sheila stopped cold. Then, she laughed. "Yeah right, Cye, do you actually think you can take care of a baby all by yourself? Or are you going to go back home, get ridiculed by your friends for getting me pregnant, and have them make you give up the little poop factory?" she said.
I didn't think the guys would ridicule me or make me give up the baby, but I knew that Sage had been raised with extremely high morals and might give me a hard time about it. No. Sheila was right. I couldn't go home- not if I wanted to keep the baby. And thanks to my virtue, it would be next to impossible for me to try and lie about just finding her or something.
"I can take care of her myself," I finally said. Gee, nice one Cye Mouri, you don't know the first THING about newborns or how to take care of them. How do you expect to raise one yourself? You've never so much as held a baby bottle since you gave them up many, many years ago when you were small and God only knows what you'd do with a dirty diaper!
"I can't believe this," said Sheila. "But fine. I don't care. You want her? You can have her." She gave me the folder she had been carrying. "In here is her birth certificate. If you sign them as her father, then you have every right to her. I'm off this rock and heading back to Ireland next chance I get."
I sat down on the stoop of the orphanage, the baby in my arms. I picked up the folder and started leafing through the legal documents. Finger prints, birth certificate, and other official looking papers lined it. I didn't understand about half of them, but I did manage to find the baby's birth certificate.
As I looked them over, my mind was running a mile a minute. Did I want to do this? Could I do this? She's your baby, isn't she? my mind told me. I didn't think Sheila was cheating on me (though Lord knows she could've) and it had been about nine months since the rape. Besides, if someone else had slept with her, they probably would've boasted about it and word would have reached me or one of my other friends. I looked up at her. "Are you sure she's mine?" I asked.
"What, you think I was sleeping around?" she asked.
"Just making sure," I said. I fingered the birth certificate, trying to find where I was supposed to sign. I saw the empty box marked "father", right next to the box marked "mother", where Sheila had scrawled her name in marking her as the child's mother. There was nothing indicating the baby's name anywhere. "You haven't named her yet?"
"No," she said. "I'm getting rid of her anyways- why bother naming the brat?"
"Then I'll name her later," I said. "Got a pen?" Sheila tossed me one, nearly hitting the baby. I caught it with my free hand, and positioned the point over the box marked "father". I bit my lip. Once I signed the paper, there was no turning back. I would legally be the baby's father in addition to being her biological father.
Taking in a deep breath and mustering up all my courage, I signed my full name. A pit in my stomach formed as I lifted the utensil off the paper, my full name staring back at me. I put the pen down, closing my eyes. Now it was official. I was both biologically and legally the baby's father. I looked up at Sheila. "So. . . I guess we'd best get going."
"Fine," she said. With that, Sheila brushed her sweatpants off, gave me the finger, laughed, and walked away from the orphanage, leaving me and the baby alone. I watched her go, a mixture of feelings running amuck throughout my head and my entire being. Sheila was finally gone from my life, but she hadn't left me alone.
I stood up, carrying the baby and the folder. Now what?
An hour later, I found myself at the bus station. I maneuvered my hand to my back pocket to find my wallet and tried to figure out how much money I had and how much I would need to buy myself a bus ticket. Looking over a few price lists, I saw had enough to get me to Tokyo and have enough left to survive for a day or so. I'd probably have to stay in a homeless shelter for a while, but I realized that was a sacrifice I'd have to make.
I got my bus ticket, glad that I didn't have to pay an additional fare for the baby- she'd just be in my lap or something for the duration of the ride. The bus left in an hour, and would reach Tokyo a few hours later. Once I- no, we- arrived in Tokyo, I knew my life would never be the same again. Hell, it had already changed.
The bus pulled up to the station, letting me and my daughter board. I took a seat in the very back, trying to avoid contact with other passengers. Only a few other people boarded, mostly business people. I bit my lip, hoping I wouldn't be criticized. That was the last thing I needed right then.
My worst nightmare came true as I watched a young woman carrying a diaper bag walking towards the back of the bus. I was ready to panic. I wanted to sit alone. I didn't want anyone to ask me questions about my child. What would people think? She'd call attention to me and the baby and I'd have to deal with all their ridiculing for the entire bus ride!
Much to my dismay, the woman chose to sit next to me. She held a baby boy a few months older than my daughter, already big enough to sit up on his own and look around. I tried to hide from the woman, though it was no use. Her baby made a gurgling sound, pointing at me. The woman turned her head and smiled at me.
"Hi there!" she said brightly.
"Hello," I said quietly.
The woman looked at me strangely. "Don't tell me. Teen parent," she said.
I hung my head low. "Yes," I said, shutting my eyes tightly.
"Oh." The woman stayed silent for a long time. In a way, I felt relieved. No lecture. But in a way, the silence was. . . awkward.
Much to my surprise, I felt a tap on the shoulder. I looked up to see the woman was holding a baby bottle. "When she wakes up, she'll want this," she said.
I blinked in surprise. "You're offering me the bottle for. . ."
"Well, yes," she said. "My sister had her daughter when she was young, too. I've seen her struggle."
I stared at the woman in disbelief, then weakly smiled. "Thank you, ma'am," I said.
"Please- call me Keiko. Seems as if we're in for a long ride- might as well get to know each other. What's your name and what's your little one's name?"
"Well, my name is Cye, but. . . I just got her," I said. "Her mother wanted to put her in an orphanage and. . . I just. . . you must have some idea on what I'm talking about."
"She doesn't have a name yet?" asked Keiko.
"Well. . . no, she doesn't," I said. I looked down at my tiny daughter, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Her mother didn't name her, either."
"Sounds like a wonderful woman," the woman said, her voice low as it dripped with sarcasm. "Well, name isn't important for now. What IS important is you learning how to bottle feed her. Tell me- how old is she?"
"Can't be more than a few weeks old," I said.
"Yes, I suppose you're right. Give me that bottle back and let me get a newborn bottle out for you," said Keiko, going back into the diaper bag. She gave me a smaller bottle with a slightly different colored milk. "This should be easier for her to digest. Mother's milk would be preferred, but her mother isn't here." From there, Keiko told me how to hold the bottle and the baby so she could successfully feed without choking. Since the baby was still asleep, however, I didn't want to risk feeding her.
The ride went long into the night due to traffic and long, winding roads. The baby slept quietly for the most part, only waking slightly to allow me to feed her. That gave me a chance to nod off into a very light sleep. Even at that, I didn't get enough sleep that night. I kept waking up to check on her, always making sure I still had her.
It was sometime after six in the morning that we arrived in Tokyo. Weary, tired, and frightened out of my mind, I got off of the bus, the baby in my arms. I paid for the rest of my fare. Keiko, who was off shortly after I got off, gave me directions to a homeless shelter for teens that she called a Teen Crisis Center.
"It's a good place for teenagers with problems like suicide, abuse, drug addiction, and, well, parenthood. They'll let you stay for free as long as you need," she said. Keiko looked up at a clock on the bus station, sighed heavily, and readjusted her load. "Well, good luck, Cye."
"Thank you, Keiko," I said.
"Hey, if you ever attend Tokyo Central High, drop me a line. I teach there!" she said as she was sucked into the crowd. I waved, calling several more words of thanks after her. Looked like I had at least ONE friend.
I left the bus station and walked out into the Tokyo streets. I'd been to Tokyo before with the guys, Kento's family, and on school trips, but never alone. And at that, I didn't have the responsibility of a very small child, either. That made me nervous. I didn't think someone would try to steal her, but. . . it was nerve wracking.
About two blocks away from where I guessed the Teen Crisis Center was, I heard a whimpering noise. I looked down to see the baby was waking up. I ducked into an alley, sitting on a trash can to try and calm her down.
"Shh. . . shh. . ." I insisted.
"WAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
You can see where saying "shh" was getting me. You guessed it: nowhere.
Now I had a good idea on why Sheila had wanted to leave the baby. I continued trying to soothe her, gently rocking her in my arms. She still cried and cried, wanting something that I couldn't give her.
That was when I realized what it was. She'd been sleeping since I received her. She'd never seen me before, and to her, I was a stranger. My child didn't know who her father was. She didn't know who I was. Oh my God. . . poor thing doesn't trust me. I've go to think of a way to get her to trust me.
I had to think of something to calm her down. Well, what did my own mother do? No, I was her youngest and I didn't remember (or know from asking questions) how she calmed me down. What other mothers aside from Keiko did I know of? Think, Cye, think. You know PLENTY of moms and dads.
Of course! Mama Fuang! Kento's mother!
I remembered the short Chinese woman telling me a story about one of the first night's of Kento's life while I was living with his family. He'd been sick with something and she couldn't get him to calm down. Eventually, she started to sing him a lullaby and got him to sleep. Could that work for me?
Trouble was, what could I sing?
The baby continued to cry, and I just kept rocking her silently as I tried to think of something. Somehow, a song I knew struck me, and I tried to sing. "Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed. Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed. Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need. I say love, it is a flower, and you, its only seed," I sang softly.
My child started to calm down, making small gurgling noises instead. I kept going. "It's the heart, afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance. It's the dream, afraid of waking, that never takes the chance. It's the one, who won't be taken, who cannot seem to give. And the soul, afraid of dying that never learns to live."
I gently took my child's hand as I continued to rock and sing to her, smiling down at my somewhat accidental creation. "When the night has been too lonely, and the road has been too long, and you think that love is only, for the lucky and the strong. Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snow, lies the seed that with the sun's love, in the spring becomes the rose. . ."
The baby was fast asleep once again.