Blue Baby

(Copyrighted Laura Liberty 2020)

Blue Baby

Nova sat on her patio, the breeze from the bay blowing her long dark hair into her face. She pushed the strands back into a messy ponytail. She had just turned fifty, but there was scarcely a wrinkle on her youthful face. Only when she laughed, could you see her crow’s feet and laugh lines, evidence of hard but happy years. She sat in the sun for a long time soaking in the warm rays. She smoked one cigarette after another. When she had smoked her last, she wheeled herself back inside for a cup of black coffee.

              She had been wheelchair bound since a car accident, but she had been disabled long before that. At her birth, the hospital nicknamed her the “Blue baby”.  When she was born, she didn’t cry. She was as blue as a blueberry ripening in the hot sun. The doctors wanted to let Nova die, but her mother begged them to save her baby’s life.

              Nova would live but was noticeably different than other children. She didn’t need parents. She was a force all her own, spirted as the wind, dark as a storm, and willful as the sea. At the tender age of five, she packed a small bag and rode her bike into the city by herself. She was intent on living as a street urchin, but her mother found her and brought her home. Her mother said, “You know Nova, taming you is like trying to collect all the stars from the sky.”

              Nova simply replied, “Why would you want to? They are so beautiful right where they are.”

Her mother looked puzzled. “What did you plan to do on your own, anyway?” she asked.

“Be free like the sea,” Nova replied.

Her mother snorted and turned up her nose. “You’re such a dreamer! You belong with the gypsies.”

              “At least they’d be more fun,” Nova said.

              Nova changed like the seasons. But most often, she was warm like summer. Today was no different as she sipped her black coffee and smiled, just happy to be alive. Her dog Latch sat by her feet asleep.

“You’re dying,” a voice whispered.

              “Stop that!” Nova said, chills creeping up her spine. Latch didn’t stir. His snores were loud, but not louder than the voice in Nova’s head.

              “Dying, dying, dying,” the voice taunted.

              “No, stop it!” she cried. “Leave me alone.”

              “Do you want to know when?”

              “No!” Nova screamed. She threw her cup across the room. Black coffee dripped down the wall and soaked into her beige carpet. Startled by the noise, Latch jumped up and looked around. He growled.

              The voice was that of a male child. When Nova was younger, the voice played with her and kept her company. Now, he just cautioned her about bad things that were coming, and he was never wrong. This made Nova feel anxious and restless.

              “Why can’t you leave me alone?” she asked.

              “Because if you die, I die,” the voice said.

              A few days later, Nova became very ill.

“Told you,” the voice said.

Nova ignored him and called her sister.

“Luna, I think I’m dying,” Nova said into the phone, the terror in her voice was crisp.

“What? Why?” Luna’s heart felt like it had sunk to her stomach.

“I’m throwing up blood and it hurts to breathe.”

 “Call the ambulance. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

Once at the hospital, Nova was admitted with double pneumonia.

The hospital was busy. Her nurse twirled about like a windup toy from room to room. She popped up beside Nova’s bed. She seemed agitated and overwhelmed. In her hand she held two pills, she looked at them with uncertainty.  She thrust one at Nova, “Here take this. It will help your breathing.”

“No, don’t!” the voice cried. “She’s wrong.”

“Go away, I’m tired of listening to you.” Nova shooed the voice and took the pill.

“What’s that?” the nurse asked. She was almost out the door.

“Nothing, I was talking to myself,” Nova said.

“You didn’t listen to me,” the voice said, he sounded weary.

“No, I’m tired of listening to you! I’ve listened to you all my wh …” Nova clutched at her chest. She gasped for breath. Her monitor beeped.

The intercom exploded.

Code Blue. Room 208.  Code Blue. Room 208.

Nova opened her eyes. She saw white walls and bright lights. “Am I in heaven?”

 Luna jumped up from her chair and ran toward her, “No, silly. You’re alive.”

“I am? I don’t feel like it.”

“You coded!” Luna said. “But they brought you back.”

“She doesn’t know you’re still dying,” the voice said. “I feel bad for her.”

“Please, just stop!” Nova cried, swatting the air.

“Stop what? Are you ok?” Luna asked. “You’re not hallucinating, are you?”

I’ve been hallucinating my whole life, Nova thought to herself.

“No, I just don’t feel well.”

“Well, of course not. You died. You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I love you,” Luna said gently hugging her sister.

“I love you too.”

“What about me? I’m still here,” the voice said. “Do I get any love?”

“I just want to sleep,” Nova said closing her eyes.

It took two weeks, but despite the voice’s prediction, Nova was released from the hospital. She was placed in a temporary nursing home to get her strength back.

“It smells like someone died in here,” the voice said.

“Shush,” Nova said. It really did smell like death, but she wasn’t about to admit that to him.

“I bet someone died in here last night,” the voice kept on.

“This is temporary. I’ll be out tomorrow morning.”

A plump nurse came in. She had one of those plastic smiles that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She filled a pitcher of water by the bedside. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’d like to go outside,” Nova said.

“No problem,” the nurse grabbed a wheelchair and helped Nova into it. “A lot of patients like to sit on the back patio. Curfew is at 8 o’clock.”

Outside, there were two other patients soaking up stars and fresh air. An elderly man was propped up against the wall. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and lit one.

“Oh, Amos. Do you have to light that while I’m here?” a woman in a housedress and slippers asked. Her hair was covered by a scarf, but pink foam curlers peeked out from underneath.

“Mind your own damn business, Gloria” Amos snipped, “or go back inside.” He blew smoke toward her face.

Nova’s mouth watered at the smell. “Could I have one?”

“Sure,” Amos said handing Nova a cigarette and lighting it for her. He turned to Gloria, a fool’s grin on his face. “Now you’re outnumbered.”

Gloria tsked with indignation and wheeled herself back toward the door. She pointed a shaky, long, and bony finger back at Amos, “You better watch yourself around this one. He’s no good.”

“Don’t believe anything she says,” Amos chuckled.

Nova smiled. It felt so good to be outside with a slight breeze and canopy of bright stars. She puffed on her cigarette, savoring every inhale and exhale.

“Stop that,” the voice warned. “Remember the doctor said smoking even one cigarette could kill you!”

Nova ignored him. She looked at Amos and beamed, “Ahh . . . I needed that. Can I have another?”

“Sure thing, sweet thang,” Amos replied. “Aren’t you too young to be in a place like this.”

“I’m getting out tomorrow.”

Immediately, Amos’s expression darkened. He looked solemn. “That’s what they all say. I’ve never seen anyone leave here that wasn’t in a body bag.”

“Do you hear him?” the voice shouted. “We aren’t getting out of here.”

Nova laughed at Amos and the voice. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”

The plump nurse with the plastic smile came to take Nova back to her room. “Did you enjoy your time, darling?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The nurse helped Nova to bed. “Your mom called. She wanted to wish you a good night.”

Nova felt a stab of pain in her lungs. She winced.

“You alright honey?” the nurse asked. Nova nodded but there were tears in her eyes.

Alone in that dark, cold room that smelled of decay, Nova fought death. She picked up the phone to call for help, but it slipped from her grasp. The dial tone was eerily loud. She beat on the railing of her bed until her knuckles were bruised and bloody. But still, no one came.

She gasped, mouth open, but no air went in and no sound came out.

Terrified, the voice screamed and screamed, but only Nova could hear him.

Sometime later that night, Amos came to Nova’s room to collect payment for the cigarettes he had lent her. He had noticed the way she had flirted with him. He thought maybe she would also enjoy showing her gratitude. However, he found her face down on the cold tile floor. He kicked her over with his boot and saw that she was dead. He left her there for the nurses to find.

In the morning, Luna bounded into the doors of the nursing home. She sang a happy little tune. Today she was taking her sister home. She thought about how God had given her a second chance.

When she got to her sister’s room, she found the room empty and the bed made. She whirled around and met a nurse in the doorway. “Where’s my sister?”

“I’m sorry. She died this morning.”

“What? That’s impossible. I’m taking her home today.”

“I'm so sorry for your losses.”

“My losses?” Luna asked confused. “Losses? As in plural?”

“Yes, I read in her records that your sister was a twin, but the other didn’t survive. Sometimes, one twin absorbs the other. It must be so hard to lose your siblings.”

Luna’s eyes widened.  “I didn’t know my sister was a twin. I wonder if she knew?”