My Precious Nightmare

20: Kids, Say No to Strangers

Lea woke up once more with Husani curled into her side, suckling on a finger. Weird. But her sensitivity to what counted as 'weird' had been abused somewhat of late, so she just ended up looking at the opposite wall and wondering what had woke her up before trying to classify just what exactly she'd been turned into.

There was a heavy knocking at the door.

She flopped her free arm over her eyes and groaned. "Husani, someone's at the door."

He didn't respond. Just ran his tongue over her fingertip. Ugh.

The pounding got more insistent.

She shook her hand, and in turn him. "Husani."

Out came the finger and drowsy, half-lidded eyes looked up at her. "Mmrmph?"

Another heavy knock and Husani shot up, incoherent and flustered.

"Wha-what? Coming! Coming! Shit, where's my shirt?"

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" She wasn't sure she wanted to know. At least the knocking had stopped. She blearily curled deeper into the beanbag, still heavy with exhaustion. Who would call in the middle of the night? Not that she could tell, with the heavy curtains over the windows.

Light from his front porchlight stung her half open eyes as he cracked open the door.

A child's voice broke across the gloom.

"Hoosoo! Mom's not breathing! I can't get her to breathe!"

Instantly, Lea was wide awake. So was Husani, who had jumped from the door and into the kitchen faster than humanly possible.

"Go put a glass under your mom's neck, Kimmy, so her mouth is kept open up towards the ceiling."

"O-okay, okay."

Lea sat up, wondering momentarily why Husani hadn't turned on a light yet. He was making enough racket in the kitchen to warrant it. She clawed her way out of the beanbag, her bit finger stinging.

"What can I do?" she asked.

"Do you remember where we took my first delivery?"

"I think."

"Good, go there and help Kimmy and keep an eye on the baby. If you get a chance, start boiling some water—wait, WAIT! Band-aid! Finger!"

Her finger bandaged, she flew out the door. The grated metal of the steps bit into the soles of her bare feet as she flew down two stories. The door with the sun bleached Fourth of July wreath was open. Light spilled out of it. She could hear the little girl's sniffling from within before she'd stepped through.

It was the exact same layout as Husani's apartment—a studio, with a kitchen to the right separated from the rest of the apartment by a counter and a door on the back wall leading to a small bathroom. The differences were a queen-sized mattress in the corner of the living room and a much larger entertainment center that was overstuffed with books, toys, memorabilia, and the medium sized glass-tube TV. Pictures of two children and posters of children's shows covered the walls. The apartment looked lived in, but not messy, and a high chair was stuffed into a corner of the kitchen.

Sprawled out on her side on the floor, with her tearful daughter trying to push a plastic cup under her neck while turning her head at the same time, was the young mother, unconscious.

Lea rushed to her side to pull the woman onto her back, and the cup slid easily beneath her neck. Her skin had gone pale, and her mouth opened to the ceiling in a poor rendition of a hungry baby bird.

"Where's your baby brother?" Lea asked.

Kimmy pointed towards the bed, where Lea glimpsed a young toddler fast asleep on his side, oblivious to the emergency at hand. Lea checked on the baby to make sure he was alright before coming back around to try and calm Kimmy, who had started to rock back and forth.