Caul Baby by Morgan Jerkins (read any book .TXT) 📕

the bedroom. Josephine hummed a melody to her daughter, who collapsed in her arms every night when the loneliness got too much for her to handle. Josephine paused before letting Landon enter the room, a hesitation that annoyed Hallow for its insincerity. She knew that they would soon indulge in licking in and around each other’s faces. They constructed their own world with each embrace and kiss, and Hallow would watch. When they finished, Josephine flattened the ends of her slip and Landon wiped the rouge from his lips.

“Good evening, Hallie.”

“Hi, Dad,” Hallow said dryly.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“I’m not tired.”

“What about some warm milk and cookies?”

“Not hungry.”

Landon sat beside Hallow and said, “All right. What is it that you want?”

Hallow stared at Landon inquisitively, leaned in, and sniffed his breath. “Ugh. You smell like . . .” She sniffed again. “Oranges or . . . grapefruit and rotten milk. Why would you kiss Mommy with that breath? Where have you been?”

“Hallow Melancon,” Josephine said. “I happen to like that breath, so never you mind that.”

“But where have you been, Dad? And can you stay longer tonight?”

“Hal—” Landon said.

“Well, why can’t you? Where do you have to go?”

“Hallow—” Josephine said more sternly.

“Why can’t you just stay with us? It can be so lonely here. For me and Mom.”

“Hallow, goddammit!” Josephine stamped her foot then turned her back. Shoulders raised to her ears and her hands now open by her waist, she started to cry, and Landon wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“You’ve upset your mother now. Tell her you’re sorry.”

Hallow remained silent.

“Hallow.” Landon raised his voice. “Tell your mother you’re sorry.”

Hallow got up from the bed and wrapped her arms around Josephine’s waist. “I’m sorry, Mommy,” she reluctantly expressed, only to pacify Landon and to get him to stop addressing her with his rancid breath.

“I just don’t know why you can’t stay if you love us.”

Landon patted Hallow’s head and said, “I got you a gift.”

Landon stepped out of the bedroom and returned with a blue wool duffle coat. It was Hallow’s favorite color. “You want to try it on?” He held the coat out closer to Hallow’s eyes. As soon as Hallow stood up, Landon removed the coat from the hanger and placed it on her shoulders. “Go ahead and button it up. You’ll never know how a coat fits if you don’t button it up.” Hallow’s breathing started to become difficult from the moment her fingertips grazed the lowest button. Each button she fastened brought about a different kind of airiness in her head. Once she finished, Landon said, “You look beautiful. Spin around for us.” Hallow spun around and around until she got dizzy and fell on the floor.

Hallow looked down at her wool coat and conjured images of all the places she could go, places that she had only ever seen in Helena’s magazines. She imagined that Helena would be going to those places and she would remain here forever.

“I want to go to school like Helena.”

“Oh, that’s what this is about.”

Hallow sat upright and pressed her back up against one of the legs of the bed. “Why can’t I go to school?”

“Because it’s not safe, Hallow. That’s why.”

“But I can be really, really careful. I won’t get in trouble.”

Landon said, “What your mother is saying, Hallie, is that she’s not so much worried about you but other people.”

“But I want to be around other kids. I want to look at clothes in magazines and get ready for the day.” Hallow flung herself across Josephine’s bed and pulled at the window ledge. “I wanna get out! I hate it here!” Josephine patted Hallow on the back and brought her into her bosom. Her eyes floated to the top of the ceiling, where the paint chipped at the corners and the crushed but repaired wood would forever bear the marks of termite damage. She could not remember her bedroom ever being pristine, only the first markings of age with photographic precision. The further Josephine pressed into her mind, the tighter she held Hallow to her chest, because there was no getting around the truth: Hallow was right, and she wanted to get out too. Josephine looked over at Landon, who shut his eyes and shook his head, and that was the extent of their silent conversation with each other.

“I still remember the night that you were born, Hallie. Have I ever told you that story?”

“No,” Hallow replied through a muffle.

“It was unexpected.” He kept his eyes on Josephine, waiting to see her response to his storytelling. “Your mother had been bedridden. You know what that means?”

Hallow shook her head.

“She had to stay in bed so that she could rest and you could grow and be strong. Then you were about to come on All Hallows’ Eve. That’s how you got your name. It’s a very important holiday in the Episcopal church. We’re Episcopalians, you know. I called upon a midwife and you came soon after. You barely cried, like you were ready to make your arrival into the world.” His eyes moved to somewhere off-center, and they began to fill with tears. “I’d never seen anything like it. That’s how I knew—we knew—you were special. I knew you were special before you were even born. We had waited for you for so long. Right, Josephine?”

Josephine then realized he was crafting the story as if Josephine had been the one to give birth, and the fact that he was smiling made her think that he hoped both she and Hallow would feel better. She looked up at the six dove pendants on the ceiling and mouthed, God help me. Lord, help me, and wrapped her arms around Hallow’s chest.

“Ma, I can’t breathe.”

Josephine squeezed, and Hallow screamed.

“Jo, let go. Let go!” Landon yelled.

Josephine started sobbing and Landon jumped to his feet. He pulled Hallow away from Josephine and they glared at her, awaiting an answer. She flicked her hands at them and ran out of the room down the stairs and did not return to