Something in the Water

. . . . . . . .

I adjust the tiny sock over the baby boy's foot, and tuck him in under his blue blanket. He looks so peaceful in his sleep, and it makes me jealous.

"Ben's late today." Vanessa whispers to me. She starts to shed her light green scrubs. Our shifts are over in ten minutes.

"He'll be here soon." I predict, though it's already almost eight. He's supposed to pick me up at seven thirty, after he's finished at the Evaluation Center.

Vanessa pulls her hair out of its jet black ponytail and reties it. "I have to take this one to her mother's room for the night." She quietly kicks the brakes off of the rolling cradle. "I'll be right back, alright?"

I nod, because she's left me alone with more than four babies before. Most mothers want to keep their babies at their sides at all times. Others need the time to rest and recover, so their babies sleep here at night. I couldn't imagine myself allowing my new baby out of my sight.

Vanessa leaves the doors open, and extra light from the hallway spills inside. The Nursery is dimmly lit after seven, and it's enough to make me sleepy. My stomach is protruding at a more noticeable size, and I'm starting to feel it get in the way.

One of the boys starts to whimper in his cradle, and I hurry to tend to him. His whimper escalates to a cry, and I'm forced to lift him carefully out of his cradle. I sway back and forth, like how Vanessa taught me, and his sobbing settles.

I smile a little and set him back down, resting his head down last. He's still wide awake. I'm not supposed to talk to them so much, probably so they learn to recognize their mothers' voices instead of a random nurse's. But he can't stay awake all night.

I waste a few minutes trying to decide how to help him fall asleep. There's a soft knock at the windows, and Sam's forehead is pressed against the glass.

He invites himself inside the Nursery on the tips of his toes. "Ben Fletcher Stand-In, reporting for duty." He salutes me.

"Ben asked you to pick me up?" I guess, though I don't try to hide my disappointment. This was the first Friday night Ben and I would be able to spend together in almost three weeks. Our "jobs" are dictating our lives these days.

It's affecting Ben more than it is me. He feels like he's constantly being watched. It's changing him, which is changing me, which is changing us. We aren't the same anymore.

Sam shrugs, fidgeting with the name tag on the baby's cradle. "The kid's working his ass off for them."

"Shh," I scold him for using that language at such a loud volume infront of newborns. "Don't mess with that." I slap his hand away from the tag.

"Sorry. Aren't you supposed to be done at 7:30?"

"Yes, but I have to wait for Vanessa to come back. She only went down the hall."

Sam's eyebrows leap in the air. "Vanessa," He says her name slowly and seductively. "Another nurse?"

"She's meeting her fiancee for dinner." I say, rolling my eyes at him. Vanessa is a nice girl, and I like her alot, but I can't help but wonder if she was one of the nurses that told the news stations I was staying here.

Sam frowns and pokes his head over my shoulder, gazing down at the baby boy. "He looks like an alien."

I chuckle, because it's kind of true - his eyes are roughly the size of golfballs. "Tell that to his mother, and she'll backhand you across the face."

"Nah, she'll probably just burst into tears, like you did the other day when Ben lost your favorite pen."

"He told me you lost it." I say, rubbing the sleep away in my eyes with my knuckles. "And it wasn't me crying, it was my hormones."

Sam groans. "Don't blame the hormones again."

The secretary at the desk outside raises her head at Sam's voice.

I cup my hand over his mouth and push him out of the view of the window. "You're not even supposed to be in here."

He apologizes again, but it's muffled by my hand. I notice how green his eyes appear in dim light. They're almost hypnotizing.

I drop my hand along with my eyes. "You have to get out of here before Vanessa gets back."

"But you said we have to wait for her?"

"She'll kill me for letting you in here. Just go wait outside, and I'll meet you there, okay?"

He keeps eye contact with me, forcing the hypnosis to challenge my focus. "Okay."

. . . . . . . .

BEN:

I bite my tongue to keep from groaning when Mrs. Sullivan slaps another stack of handhelds on the corner of the desk. I've already cleared and reprogramed twenty-three of them today, and she's just added ten more to my endless list.

I should be grateful she's allowing me to sit in her husband's desk while he's in a meeting, but I'm struggling to keep focused. "Mrs. Sullivan, is this the last of it for today?"

Mr. Sullivan steps in behind her. He peers at me from across the room. "Too much work for you?"

"No, no." I say immediately. "It's just that I was supposed to pick Emma up at the hospital..."

"Does she still need a ride?"

"No, I asked Sam to get her."

He nods slowly to himself, and that's it.

"That's all, Ben." Mrs. Sullivan smiles and quickly leaves the room.

I take another handheld from the stack and power it on. I don't know whether to get up from his desk, or let Mr. Sullivan continue to casually walk around his office. The power bar on the handheld is taking forever to reach full, and I don't know how to break the silence.

In the back of my mind, I sort of do know how to break it. I've been meaning to ask his opinion on something for a few days now, but I couldn't find the right words. "Mr. Sullivan?"

"Hmm?" He picks out an Evaluation book on his shelf and flips through it.

I start to delete all of the old information on the handheld. "I've been thinking, you know, about..."

He slaps the book closed and places it back on the shelf. "Emma?" He guesses accurately.

"Yeah." I laugh nervously. "I was wondering if we will be required to, uh, go through all the motions a normal couple does before having a baby - not that Emma isn't normal, she's just...different. In a good way."

Mr. Sullivan takes a seat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. In front of me. "What exactly are you asking me, Ben?"

I can't think of another way to get around what I'm trying to say. "Would it be okay if I asked Emma to marry me?"

He reacts like he expected me to ask him such a difficult question. "You want to marry her before she has the baby?"

I push the handheld to the side and try to be more personal. "I mean, we're kind of doing all of this backwards, so I thought that we could try to do something the right way...?"

I don't know how to read the look on his aged face. I hold my breath while he thinks it over.

"I admire your consideration." He finally says.

I half smile. "Thanks."

"But the truth of the matter is, it wouldn't make a difference whether you were married or not."

I take my smile back. "What do you mean?"

He sighs and leans forward in his chair. "The Board of Evaluation held a meeting a a few days ago, and they've concluded that everyone is to obey the law, including Emma. And since she isn't of age, she can't be passed to raise a child - married or not."

"But she's already pregnant." I say, worried about what he may say next. "They can't take that away."

"She'll follow through with the pregnancy without question." He promises, and I can finally breath. "But she can't raise the baby until she's of age."

"So she can have the baby, but she can't take care of it for almost three years?"

He stares at me with that same look that I can't read.

I keep my pulse low and run a hand through my hair. "That has to change." I say honestly.

"Believe me, it's not something I want her to deal with, either." For some reason, I don't believe him. "It's the law, and she can't be an exception. Once she turns 2o, she'll pass the Evaluation, and everything will fall into place."

"It won't just fall into place if her baby is being raised by someone else for almost three years." I'm starting to lose my pulse. "That just makes things more complicated."

"I don't know what else you want me to do, Ben." He rises to a full six-foot frame and stands over me. "I don't have any business trying to change the law, just like teenagers don't have any business raising children. You're inexperienced, self-centered, and just too damn young to be acting like adults! I'm not arguing with that."

I try to challenge him with my five-ten height. "It's only because you don't let us try! Sure, we shouldn't be raising kids. But it doesn't mean we can't do it. And if anybody can do it, it's your daughter." I abandon his desk and head straight for the door. "You of all people should see that."

"Ben," He catches me before I leave completely. "Don't tell Emma about this. Let me do it."

"You got it." I say it with an attitude that I won't hold back anymore.

. . . . . . . .

EMMA:

I lay on my bed and start turning pages in the baby book I recently renewed from the library at school. I haven't looked at it in a while, so I figure it will be a good way to pass time waiting for Ben. I'm already wearing my pajamas, because I don't know how long I'll last when he gets here. I'm exhausted.

The title of a chapter catches my eye. It reads, "Speak Up : Your Baby Can Hear You". According to the first paragraph, at 18 weeks the baby can hear and respond to sounds outside the womb. I calculate 18 weeks to be about 4 and a half months.

I'm only almost 4 months, but maybe he can hear me. It's worth a shot, isn't it?

I set the book down on my bed and lift my shirt to make my voice clearer - even though it probably doesn't make a difference.

"Hi, baby." I say. "Can you hear me?" I don't feel any different, so I place my hands over my skin. "How did you get in there, huh? I bet it was tricky."

I realize how stupid I sound and start laughing at myself. Then I feel it.

It's like butterflies in my stomach, but the flutter is different. It's hard to explain, but I feel something, and I know it's my baby.

I hold very still, and concentrate on feeling something again. After a minute or so, I don't feel anything. "I know you're in there," I tell him. "I can feel you."

Nothing.

Maybe I woke him up, and he was startled by my laughter. Maybe he's sleeping again.

I decide that he's sleeping and allow him to stay asleep. I'm satisfied with the grin on my face. He's in there, and I felt him.

I hear the movement outside my door and lean my head back to see Ben, upside down. I sit rightside up and jump to my knees. "Guess what?"

He isn't excited like I want him to be. "What?"

I scramble to find the book. "I was reading this, and I found a section about the baby being able to hear me...what is it?" I ask, recognizing something wrong in his face.

He shakes his head sullenly. "Nothing, just tired."

If I wasn't so excited, I'd frown. I hate the way he stands there, wearing an Evaluator coat borrowed from my father, with a look on his face that scares me into believing he's one of them. "Come here." I reach my arms out for him to walk in to.

I peel the coat off of his shoulders and throw it on the floor. I loosen his hideous tie and unbutton the first few buttons of his white shirt. "There," I say, messing his hair a little. "That's alot better."

He still won't smile, and I only wish he'd tell me why. It's no use trying to get it out of him. "Why did you have Sam pick me up from the hospital today?"

"I had a little extra work to take care of." He says. "I'm sorry."

I lean forward to kiss his forehead. "I almost got in trouble, because he walked into the Nursery like he owned the place, and...Oh!" I gasp, clutching my stomach again.

"What? Emma, what?" He hurries to grab onto my arms. "What's wrong?"

"I can feel him!" I laugh. "Ben, he can hear me!"

He's confused. "What are you talking about?"

I pick up the book again, my hands shaking in excitement. "It says he can hear me now, and when he hears my voice, he moves! I feel it!"

Ben takes the book from me and reads it for himself. When he's finished, he drops it on the bed. "This book is outdated, Em. Remember? It's not accurate, and it's way too early for you to be feeling anything, anyway. It's probably just bubbles in your stomach, or something."

My jaw drops slack. "Bubbles?" I ask sarcastically. "You think it's just bubbles?"

He sees how he's upset me, and tries hopelessly to mend it. "I'm just being realistic, Emma. You remember that, too, don't you? You said we have to be realistic."

I can't help feeling insulted. "I thought we were past all of that nonsense. I thought we realized it's not about being realistic, but about looking out for eachother, about accepting that the baby is here and we can't change it."

"Yeah, Em, but life's unfair. Sometimes, things don't work out the way you want them to, and there's nothing you can do about it."

It sounds like a recording of my father, and it sort of stuns me. I didn't realize he'd gotten so bad. "Why can't you at least pretend to be happy for me?"

"I am happy. I'm just...tired." He softens up now, but it's too late. I'm already in a bad mood.

"Then maybe you should get some rest." I turn away from him.

He's slow to do it, but eventually makes his way around to my side and kisses the top of my head. "I'll see you later."

I don't say a word, holding my pout until he's long gone.