Walking past a hall closet towards my nursery, I caught a hint of a shadow coming out from underneath a door. I didn’t hear words, but I heard the same giggling I’d heard moments before. Such a shame. She was totally going to win. No cookie for me. Oh well.
I about-faced and walked as quietly as I could across the house to Janet’s bedroom. I wasn’t supposed to go in there, and I had less than five minutes to snoop what I could before the alarm on Jessica’s phone went off.
The door was left open just a crack and I slid myself inside, making sure that I wouldn’t have to jump if I wanted to open the door back up. So this is what Janet’s room looked like! The room was painted a light, almost flamingo pink. Closer to rose petal, come to think of it. Oddly calming. The far side of the room had a computer desk and desktop, very similar to what I’d used…before.
Likewise, the master bathroom was connected to the bedroom, just like…before. The bathroom was smaller, mine was…had been nicer, but it did the trick, especially for a woman living on her own. A sink, a mirror, a medicine cabinet, a toilet, and a shower. Nothing fancy.
The shower had a screened in window, the kind with the warped distorted glass that would let sunlight in without anyone being able to see inside the shower. I fantasized a scenario in which I could somehow reach that high, toss a big enough brick to shatter it, crawl through the window and drop to the outside without breaking a leg.
Unlikely.
Back in the bedroom proper a vanity mirror sat across the bed where I would’ve put a chest of drawers. Janet kept makeup and jewelry on the stand and I could just imagine her putting on her finishing touches each morning before coming to wake me up. The walk in closet made up for the relative smallness of the bathroom.
It was half the size of the Braun’s trailer…and just like that I made myself sad again. It was also very empty, only half full… and just like that I felt a bit of dark pleasure.
The real centerpiece of the room, however, was Janet’s bed. Incredibly big, even for Amazon furniture, it looked extremely messy; a mountain of mattress, pillows, and disheveled comforters. Janet had fallen out of the habit of making it, it seemed. More important was the headboard. Massive, to the point of being gaudy, the head of the bed was actually a thick set of glass cabinets holding china and silverware.
Someone liked breakfast in bed. Up at the very top were fancy glasses; champagne flutes, martini glasses, and the like. Someone liked more than just breakfast in bed. Mimosas perhaps? To the right of the headboard, just where an Amazon could easily reach if they were sitting up- or a Little might steal if he were standing on the mattress- was a dark black bottle. A cabinet with fine dishes to break was one thing. ‘Whoops!’ I was nothing if not spiteful.
The bottle is what really drew me in, however. There was something that I hadn’t been in a long time: drunk. Time to fix that.
I scurried up the mattress. My diaper was still dry and just thin enough that I could make a decent jump of it and pull myself the rest of the way up. The mattress didn’t squeak under my weight and I couldn’t hear the rustling of the soft plastic as I zipped and scrambled over pillows and bunched up sheets.
Not much time now. Any second the alarm would go off and I would lose. I wouldn’t get this opportunity again tonight. I leaned out and grabbed the handle of the unlocked liquor cabinet. It opened out from the bed.
Digging my fingers into another built-in cabinet I leaned out as far as I could and grasped at the bottle. Full! Very full! So full I almost dropped it! It was practically a baby in weight; a real one. Setting it down on the mattress, I rotated the bottle, looking for a label.
No name on the bottle; just a symbol. A white boney hand holding a red oblong shape. I squinted and mused. Did no name make it expensive? Was I about to waste really good booze? What was it? Vodka? Wine? Did I care?
Wedging the bottle between my legs, I held it in place with my knees while I unscrewed the lid. Sniffing at the bottle, my nose wrinkled at just a whiff! “Ooof!” I said involuntarily. This stuff was strong! It made sense that Amazons would have liquor this potent. They’d need it just to feel a slight buzz.
The sound of an alarm faintly going off in the distance made my ears prick up. Time! Out of time! “claaaark?” I heard the distant voice of Jessica echo on the other side of the house. “Claaaaark?” I was going to be in so much trouble!
“Whelp,” I whispered, gathering up my courage. “If I’m going to be in trouble, I might as well make it worth it.” I stood up on the mattress, opened my mouth as wide as it would go so as to fit around the bottle’s massive rim, gripped it with both hands and then tilted back as far as I could.
In that split second, I imagined the scene as Jessica might perceive it. Coming and looking for me and finding a ‘baby’ nursing on a very different kind of bottle. This was going to hurt, but it’d be worth it. Worst case scenario, I reckoned, I could plug it with my lips to stem the tide if the booze burned a bit too much.
Mistake! BIG MISTAKE!
FIRE! MY ENTIRE MOUTH WAS INSTANTLY ON FIRE! Inside the lips, tongue, back and the throat, everything burned! Cheeks! Gums! Uvula! Someone had taken a match to the inside of my fucking skull! It burned, and not just in the way that all alcohol burns!
The first three to four gulps had been just me chugging without thinking. I was not going to bed sober, no siree! I didn’t make it to a fifth swallow. My gag reflex was already fighting me. I exhaled and felt the burning, stinging, pain in my nostrils.
It hurt! So much! Pain! It was like an Amazon spanking to the inside of my face! Stupidly, I puckered my lips. That only made more of my face burn. “FUUUUUUUUUUU-!” I screamed, heaving the bottle to my side while I sat up.
Gasoline! I must have chugged a bottle of gasoline. I’d need my stomach pumped!
“AAAAAAAAH!” I was crying, my eyes tearing up while I screamed and wiped at my tongue in agony. Breathing? Breathing only made it worse! “MOTHER FUUUUUU-!” I rolled on the mattress, licking the comforter in a bizarre and futile attempt to make the hurting stop. I didn’t roll far enough, and soon my tongue touched upon a gasoline soaked bedsheet as the puddle spread on Janet’s bed, and the whole thing started over again.
Thunderous running over my howls of pain, but I still drowned them out with my own yelping. “OOOOOOOOOOW!”
“Clark?!”
The door slammed open.
“FUCK FUCK FUCK! GODDAMNIIIIIIT!” I stopped swallowing and started drooling. It didn’t help the hurt any. Might’ve even made it worse.
“Clark? Baby, what’s wrong!”
Gasping for breath I pointed to the spilled bottle with one hand while I stupidly wiped my mouth with the other. “WHY?” I felt like I was breathing fire. My eyes felt like they were shooting lasers out of them. “WHY DOES….?” Talking hurt. I didn’t want to talk. Staying still hurt. I didn’t want to stay still. I kept flailing my arms and pumping my legs on the mattress just to distract myself.
A thousand invisible ants had crawled into my throat and were biting me from the inside out. The tube! It was like the tube that Beouf had shoved me down into, only on the inside! IT BURNED!
Jessica picked up the bottle and looked at the logo. She gasped. I went to wipe my eyes. “Clark! No!”
Too late. The pain doubled in my eyes. I was no longer just crying because of how much everything below the nose hurt, now my eyes were on fire too.
I didn’t need to see to understand that I was being picked up and carried out of Janet’s room. “Shit shit shit shit shit shit!” Jessica cursed.
I also didn’t need to see to be able to scream. Which I did. A lot. “WHYYYYYYYYY?!” So many questions. Why did it hurt? Why did it hurt so much? Why wasn’t it stopping? Why was I so fucking stupid as to put something in my mouth if I didn’t know what it was? I had not a single answer to these questions just then, so a single syllable of “WHYYYYYYYY?!” had to do.
“Clark? Open your mouth for me.” Jessica had lost all of the cutesy inflections in her voice. “Open your mouth, baby.”
It hurt more to breathe through my nose than my mouth, so I didn’t put up much resistance. Not a second later, something cold and creamy squirted into my mouth. I latched onto the bottle without hesitation. “MMmm…Mmmmm…” The cold, fatty stuff, filled my mouth and glided down my throat and it still wasn’t enough. The fire inside was dying, but still too slowly for me to be comfortable.
It was a relief however. “Hold still,” Jessica said, her voice still with worry. I felt wipes, first wet then dry, drag across my face. “Keep drinking. Open your eyes if you can.” Gradually, I blinked open, more tears came out, but it was hurting less. My sockets were flushing themselves out.
My lips still felt on fire and I kept sucking them into my mouth. Jessica saw my face and took the bottle from me. “Close your mouth a second.“ I did, even though breathing through my nose still felt like I had nostrils filled with angry wasps. She squirted some milk directly onto my lips, and the pain started to go away one awful second at a time.
Greedily, I opened my mouth and accepted the nipple again. “That’s right,” she whispered to me. “Drink it up. There’s at least one more prepped in the fridge and at least a couple gallons more to pour in if you need it.”
Pathetically I nodded and kept suckling while she bobbed me lightly in her arms. I took the chance to test my throat when the bottle was empty. “What,” I gasped. “Was…that…shit…?”
My babysitter put the second bottle to my lips and waited for me to drink. “That was ghost pepper tequila. It’s spicy, even for Amazons. What did you think it was?”
I let up sucking long enough to answer. “Wine? Vodka?” I latched back on immediately. It still hurt to have an empty mouth. Jessica’s eyes brightened up. I got the same look when I wanted to laugh but didn’t dare for fear of hurting a child’s feelings. She’d laugh about this much much later, though. I could just tell.
“Honey, there aren’t any Little drinks in this house, I’m sure. All of your stuff is in the fridge where it belongs, not in your Mommy’s liquor cabinet by her bed.”
My mouth let go of the nipple. “Please…don’t…tell…Mommy.” I was beyond embarrassed at my situation. Using the M-word was a low blow meant to manipulate her emotions. No point in letting pride hold me back. The trick worked, just not how I thought it would.
“You think I’m gonna tell on myself?” she said. “No chance. Janet would never let me babysit you again if she found out what I let you do.”
Jessica carted me to my room. She put me down in my crib, but left the bottle. “Keep drinking, but slow down,” she ordered. “Swish it around. Maybe gargle. I’m going to Janet’s room to see if I can clean up your mess.”
This time she got no complaints from me. I sat there for several minutes, swishing milk around my mouth. My stomach gurgled a bit from what I’d just added to the concoction inside me. This stuff would probably hurt coming out tomorrow if not sooner.
I exhaled, sad, pathetic and defeated. How fucked up was it that this was my life now? Just then, I didn’t care. I just wanted the mouth pain to go away and for this awful, awful day to be over. Thursdays might be terrible for me for the rest of my life at this rate. The streak had held so far.
Hadn’t it been a Thursday when my date with Cassie had gone sideways?
Cassie…
Tears of continued grieving and existential dread were cut off by a sudden not quite dizzy feeling. Tipsy. My cheeks warmed up, but it felt good this time. My everything still sizzled inside but I suddenly cared less. The mattress of the crib seemed a lot more cozy just then. I kept working on the nipple of the now emptied bottle because it felt good.
Wow! I had been at least half-right. It wasn’t vodka, but it was some strong shit! Eyes at half mast, I laid back in my crib. Stupidly, feebly, I reached out for Lion and clutched the stuffed animal close to me, his synthetic fur lighting up my senses.
“Okay, I think I…” Jessica said coming in. “Clark?”
“Mmmm?”
“You okay?”
I let the bottle drop out of my mouth. “Oooooooh yeah…I’m really okay.” The room was starting to sway and spin a little. “Fanks for the milk.”
“Uh…no problem sweetie.” She took the bottle out of my mouth and I let out a groan while my lips puckered. “Here ya go.” My bottle was replaced with a pacifier. “Wow. You’re a real lightweight, aren’t you?”
I blinked to try and stay awake. “Well yeah,” I said. “I’mma…I’mma… Little… ain’t I?”
“Yeah,” Janet’s friend said. “I guess you are.” Quickly, she unbuttoned my pajamas and changed my diaper to an overnight. “Very Little.” Before turning off the lights, she reached down and rolled me over onto my stomach. “Let’s have you sleep on your tummy…just in case.”
“In cayshe what?” I mumbled from behind the pacifier.
“Just in case.” The lights went out around me and I could feel my brain gleefully shutting down. Time to rest. Back to the drawing board tomorrow. Live to fight another day.
“Hey hey!” I heard Janet whisper. The drowsiness and fatigue all but leapt out of me. My eyes remained closed but my mind started to race. How much did she know?
“Oh!” Jessica jumped. She lowered her voice back down. “You’re back!”
“Meeting got out earlier than I thought,” Janet said.
“What’s that in your hand?”
“Had time to go shopping, so I picked a special something up.” I heard the rustle of a plastic shopping bag. “How was he?”
“A little fussy at first,” Jessica lied. “But I managed to tucker him out. Was just about to close the door…”
“That’s great,” Janet said. “He hasn’t been sleeping very well. I knew you’d do well.”
“Well…you know…” Jessica was sounding less and less confident. I managed my breathing, sucking on the pacifier and cuddling Lion to control my pulse. “He called you Mommy a couple times…”
“Yeah,” I heard a tired heave from Janet. “Probably when he wanted something from you, am I right?” Jessica made no reply that I could hear. “They say it’s common at this stage. It’s still a step in the right direction.” It didn’t sound like she fully believed herself. “Glad you two had a good time, though.”
Had I wanted to, I still had the strength to push myself up, and shout out exactly what had happened. Even if I slurred every word, Janet might smell the liquor on my breath. I didn’t though. Jessica helped me out of a lot of pain and talked to me better than most. Still, I blamed it on the milk.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to write that letter of recommendation?” Janet asked. My eyebrows nearly lifted off my face. The Grown-Ups had moved onto other topics, apparently.
“I’m sure,” Jessica sighed. “I want to get that teaching position on my own.”
“And you will,” Janet softly murmured. “As soon as one opens up.”
There in the darkness, my eyes peeked open, adjusting instantly to the pale nightlights. Jessica was a teacher, too? And unemployed? And Janet had been trying to get her a job?!
Through blurry and drunken eyes, I peered out the bars of my crib. It was hard to tell from the angle, the darkness and the blood alcohol content, but if I hadn’t known any better I’d have said that Janet was holding a box of candy in the palm of her hand. Not just any kind of candy, either. From the outside, it looked like the kind for cream filled chocolate bon bons bought for fancy occasions, dates, presents, and the like; the kind that Rainne Forrest kept in her desk. And were I in a betting mood, I’d have said that the shopping bag had more than a few duplicates of the same.
Why did Janet have so many?
“Let me just give him a kiss goodnight…”