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Does this mean he never came back? But why?
“Ma’am, I ain’t got all day.” The driver lifts the bassinet and carries it down the aisle. “Come on.”
He’s taking the baby? Where?
I look around, hoping to find the baby’s father asleep in his seat just as I was a few moments ago. There’s no sign of him. The bus is empty.
He’s really gone?
“Ma’am,” the driver calls my attention again. “Please. I been driving all night, I need to get home and get to sleep.”
“Sorry,” I mumble as I follow him. “But have you seen a man with a…?”
Shit. What did he look like again? I was half asleep so I don’t even remember.
“Ain’t no one else here,” the driver says before stepping off the bus. “If you were with someone, you should just call them. I can’t help you anymore.”
He turns around and waits for me to get off the bus. I can’t delay him any longer, so I do that. As soon as I’m on the platform, he hands me the bassinet. Then he tips his cap and goes back into the bus. Moments later, the doors close and the bus leaves the stop, disappearing from my sight in the next minute.
So here I am all alone, in a place I’ve never heard of, full of people I don’t know, with a stranger’s baby in tow.
Great. You’re doing just great, Triss.
I stare at the baby, who’s back to sucking her thumb, completely unaware that she’s just been abandoned.
“Poor thing.”
To my surprise, at the sound of my voice, she pulls her thumb out of her mouth and smiles at me. My breath catches.
She’s… smiling?
It’s such a simple gesture. It probably doesn’t mean anything, either. And yet, my chest wells up with joy. Then it clenches in pain.
Why do parents have children only to cast them aside like trash? What did children ever do to deserve such a cruel fate?
My stomach churns. My teeth grind against each other as my jaw tenses. My fingers tighten around the handle of the bassinet.
Why? Why do heartless parents exist? It’s unfair. Unacceptable. Unforgivable.
As soon as my gaze falls on the baby, my anger vanishes. Even though her smile is gone, her eyes still seem to sparkle like a pair of aquamarines as they stare at me intently, curiously, expectantly.
I give her a smile as I sit on the bench. I put the bassinet down beside me and stroke her cheek.
“What am I going to do with you?”
The obvious answer would be to report the matter to the police so they can find this baby’s family. I can’t do that, though. If I go to them, they’ll ask questions about me. They might not even believe that I just found this baby in a bus. What if they think I’ve taken this baby from someone and throw me in jail? Worse, what if they find out what I have done?
I shake my head. No, I can’t go to the cops. I didn’t come all this way just to turn myself in.
What, then? I can’t keep this baby. I have no money. I spent most of the cash I’d saved up to buy bus tickets. I have no home, no family. I don’t know the first thing about taking care of babies. In fact, I don’t know a lot of things. I dropped out of school in fifth grade and I’ve spent most of the past eleven years locked up. How am I supposed to take care of a baby when I’m not even sure I can take care of myself?
Then there’s that matter about Jim. Even if the cops don’t come after me, his friends might. Maybe they won’t be able to find me since I changed buses three times and made sure to hide my face from the cameras at the different bus stops – that much I learned from watching TV. But there’s still a chance they will. Even though I’ve cut my hair, they can still recognize me.
I can’t run with a baby in tow. If they catch us, they’ll kill us both. I can’t put this baby’s life at risk like that.
I brush the mahogany curls away from the baby’s forehead.
“I’m sorry, sweetie, but I can’t keep you.”
As much as I hate the thought of abandoning this baby who’s already been discarded once, my only option is to leave her on someone’s doorstep. Hopefully, that someone will do the right thing and bring this baby to the cops so they can find her parents. Or maybe they’ll be kind enough to find her a good home, maybe with a childless couple who will love her like their own and take better care of her than her own parents. Whatever the case may be, she’ll be better off with someone other than me. I’m just a courier, the stork that has to deliver her to her home, the ferrywoman who has to get her where she needs to be. After I fulfill my task, I’ll leave. I was going to start over here, but I can do that somewhere else instead. It’s fine. I’ll just sell Jim’s watch to get money for another bus ticket.
