Mine

by Robert McCammon

THE BABY WAS CRYING again

1st line

Here lay the real rocks, on which boats of hope could be broken to pieces.

Deserve was a dangerous word, Laura thought. It was a word that built barriers, and made wrong seem right.

She had long since realized that they were not living for today any longer; they were living for a mythical tomorrow, where Doug’s workload would be lighter and the pressures of the marketplace eased, their days relaxedly constructive and their nights a time of communion. She had also long since realized that it would never happen.

Love the pain, and you win the game.

It was St. James Hospital. An omen of good karma, Mary thought. A hospital named after Jim Morrison.

lol

Near eleven-ten, Laura thought she felt David begin to squeeze out. It was a movement of maybe an inch or two, but it thrilled her. She was wet with sweat and her hair was damp around her shoulders. It amazed her that anybody had ever been born.

His mind was searching for cracks like a mouse who hears a footstep in the dark.

his Dockers khaki trousers and his Polo sweater hung on a framework of bones and lies.

Doug had said something the night before that had sent Laura into a rage. He’d looked at her, the Wall Street Journal on the sofa beside him, and he’d said, “If David’s dead, it won’t be the end of the world.”

Near Baltimore there was the gas station bathroom where Mary had delivered the dead infant girl from a belly held together with three hundred and sixty-two ragged stitches.

“Won’t you stop crying?” she asked Drummer as she sat on the narrow bed in the dark. She spoke in a quiet voice. Drummer gurgled and cried louder. “All right,” Mary said, and she stood up. “All right, then. I’ll make you stop.” She switched on the lights in the kitchenette. Then she turned on one of the stove’s burners and swiveled its dial to high.

She didn’t like the woman’s face. You’re nothing but a lie, she remembered it saying.

The twisting of Didi’s head saved her from having her brains blown out. She was aware of a zip and a wasp’s sting, but did not yet know that a chunk of her right ear was gone.

hmmmm

Laura released her breath, and turned away with her son in her arms. Both of Thursday’s children had far to go.

Last Lines