Chapter 9: Memories
McGee sniffed and shook his head, his teary gaze settling down on the stone slab which marked the resting place of his baby boy, who didn't survive his first year. Despite the situation of his conception and the opposition of their parents on both sides, the teenagers decided to keep the baby and Timothy had moved over to a small garage converted into a room in the young Christine's household. He was willing to do his part in raising his child so in that same summer he found a job to help out with the expenses. Despite Christine's wailing about how fat and big and ugly she was becoming thanks to this child, he was getting more and more into the role of a father. He collected baseball cards to show the baby, bought a tiny baseball cap and matching clothes and despite the difficulties, he wanted to share his whole life with the baby.
He cried when he held his son for the first time in his arms; counted the fingers in his hands and the wiggling toes in his feet; became a pro in changing diapers and insisted to be taught how to wrap the baby like a burrito by the kind nurse in attendance in the hospital.
He was in the zone when Cris and the baby came back from the hospital. Between school, his part-time job, late night feedings and constant diaper changes, he was feeling more like a survivor of a Zombie Apocalypse than normal teenager. But he convinced himself that it would get better, the baby would sleep the whole night soon and things would change.
The baby became less colicky, the feedings came with more hours in between and the baby actually slept for longer hours.
Until that fatidic day in which he didn't wake up.
Timothy could still remember the strange emotion of waking up in the morning and be startled with the notion that the baby did not wake up in the middle of the night. He poked Chris who mumbled in her sleep and turned to the other side, hugging her pillow tightly against her chest and going back to sleep.
The silence in the house was deafening. He stood up and left the bedroom, concern marring his young features as he approached the improvised nursery. He bit his lower lip as he walked towards the crib, the hanging pendants softly spinning in the air. He finally stood beside the sleeping infant, surrounded by plush teddies and in his navy pjs, its tiny fingers firmly holding the edge of the blanket as it lay supine on the sheets.
And Tim's heart skipped a beat when he noticed that the baby wasn't breathing.