Murphy's Law

"That's a baby"

The baby looks at me like it's very obvious that it is, in fact, a baby. As I watch, it burps loudly, a bubble of it's spittle popping grossly over it's face and staining it's white patterned blanket.

"Thank you, baby," I grumble, kneeling by the cardboard box it lies in, "Very cool, baby. What the hell am I gonna do with you, baby?"

The baby doesn't answer, simply babbles and spits. God, babies are so gross.

"Okay," I look around. No one is left, because I, like an idiot, decided it was a good idea to take the closing shift as the biggest storm of the year hits, on a holiday to boot. Time and a half isn't worth this.

"Well, baby," I decide, "Let's get out of here, huh? Find you a nice...government official to take care of you."

The wind howls like a chorus of wolves outside, and a shiver runs up my spine. Slowly, I pick up the baby, cradling it to my chest.

"If you throw up on me, baby," I tell it, "I will drop kick you."

The baby doesn't throw up, which is a plus. The minus is that the doors are blocked by about ten inches of snow. They don't budge.

"Great," I snarl, "Fucking great. I fucking hate this white bullshit, I shouldn't have moved to this bitch of a country. True North my ass."

The baby coughs, and I look down at it. "Do not repeat my foul language, baby. It is not child friendly. I hope you're too young to speak, or else I am teaching you some very bad things."

I resign myself to a night of sleeping on a supermarket floor. Pulling the box I found the baby in closer, I pack it with aprons and tuck the baby in as best as I can. It snorts a snot bubble, which I take as contentment as I settle against the wall.

"Well, at least we still have power, baby."

Ever heard of Murphy's Law? It goes, Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong

So when the power goes out with a booming thud, it feels like the cherry of top of the shit-tastic sundae of my life. The ambient hum of electricity stops, and I swear I can hear the snow striking the metal ceiling like bullets.

"Okay!" I shout, the words echoing down the empty aisles as I scramble to turn on my phone's flashlight. "That's great! Thank you, universe! I love getting hypothermia!"

There's a low whimper, and I look over. The baby is squirming, it's breath misting out of it's mouth as it whines. The soup heater is nearby, luckily, and I scoot over it, bringing the baby in the box with me. It's warmer, there, and I lean up against it.

"You're cold?" I ask worriedly, as the baby's face scrunches up into a little pink raisin. "Do not start crying, baby, I don't know how to deal with babies crying, I can't even deal with me crying"

I pick the baby up, rocking it slightly. I must be warm enough to alleviate it's discomfort, because the baby stops whining, and the rising anxiety in my chest relaxes.

"You're just cold, aren't you" I look into the baby's eyes. I don't know how babies are supposed to look, because I'm twenty and I hate children, but this one looks...smart. Wise. It should be creepy, but it's strangely comforting.

"What kind of a mom would leave you here alone, baby?" I murmur, poking it's chubby cheek, "No one should ever leave someone as helpless as you alone."

The baby's face scrunches up again at the mention of it's mother. I check my watch. 11:49 pm. A few more minutes until next year. I should be at Gemma's house, popping bad, ten dollar champagne and kissing Amanpoor Shergill as the clock strikes midnight. Instead, I'm sitting on cold linoleum, clutching a strange baby.

"This is a weird night, baby," I tell it, "What a way to start the new year. Piss poor, I should say. Like this last year hasn't already sucked."

If I have to stay in a closed, empty supermarket with this baby, it has to hear about my problems.

"Got cheated on. Twice," I coo, tickling the baby until it giggles. "Yeah, I sure did. Got evicted. Almost flunked out of university. Shit luck this last year, baby. Wasn't fun. Although I guess it's better than being abandoned and saddled with me, huh?"

The baby sighs, it's eyes fluttering shut, and I rock it slightly, tucking it into my chest to keep it warm. The generator should have kicked on by now.

"Three minutes to midnight. I'll check on the generator next year, yeah?" I tell it. The baby looks peaceful, asleep, and I tuck it into the box, covering as many bits of exposed skin with clothes as possible.

"Yeah," I watch the baby sleep, "I'll go check it next year. I deserve a little break, I think."

The baby blows a snot bubble in it's sleep, and I take it as agreement as I wipe away the snot.

"You're so yucky, baby. I'm just glad you're quiet"

I look down at my phone, and watch the seconds tick down.

5

4

3

2

1

"Happy New Year, baby-" My voice cuts off as the generator kicks up, the lights flickering back on in blinding synchronicity and the heat flushing into the store. Right in time too, because my piece of shit phone dies about two seconds later, taking it's light with it.

"Look at that, baby-" I look down to see the baby is gone from the box, like it never existed. Not even the blanket is there. I'd never admit it, but I scream really fucking loud.

"Gah!" I shriek, springing to my feet, "Ghost baby!"

"Quiet down, dearie."

An old man hobbles out of one of the side doors and I scream again, my heart racing faster than the time I got my period during a presentation for the class. TMI, I know, but I think I died a little.

"Who the hell are you?" I grab the closest object, a soup ladle, and hold it out threateningly, "Are you a baby napper? Did you kidnap the baby? I will ladle you in the face!"

The old man chuckles slightly, leaning on his gold cane.

"No, the baby is fine. He's where he belongs."

"Okay, creepy old guy," I mutter, but something about the man seems...honest. Tired, but kind. I lower the ladle against my better judgement.

"Was it a ghost baby?" I mutter, and the man laughs.

"No, not really." he says softly, and I believe him, even though I really, really shouldn't.

"Will it...be okay?"

"Oh, yes. I think it'll be just fine," The man says wistfully, "You look tired, dearie. Bad year?"

"I mean...it wasn't great?" I hedge, because it definitely could have been worse.

"I'm sorry," he says, like it's his personal fault, and I shrug uncomfortably.

"This one hasn't exactly been spectacular, either," I grumble, and the man smiles.

"I'm sure it'll be better this year, especially for such a kind soul as you."

"Thanks, but I'm not-"

"Alex?" I hear a familiar voice shout. It's Amanpoor's voice, echoing through the store. I sigh with relief.

"Over here," I holler. I turn around to address the man, but he's no longer there, just like the baby.

"Ew," I say, blanching in fear, "I'm not getting paid enough for this."

"Alex? You didn't show up, we were worried" Amanpoor says as she approaches, her dark skin standing out under the fluorescent lights. I paste a smile on.

"Sorry, yeah. How did you get in? I thought the doors were snowed shut."

"What?" Amanpoor's brows furrow, "There's only like, an inch of snow right now."

"Oh," I say, blinking, "Maybe I was shrooming or something."

"Shrooming?" Amanpoor smiles, and something in my stomach flutters, "I thought you were working because you couldn't afford rent, let alone shrooms. Are you okay?"

"Spectacular," I say, and for some strange reason, I think I mean it. Amanpoor raises an eyebrow.

"You sure? I've never seen you smile like that"

"I'm great," I decide, "I just have...a good feeling. About this year"

Amanpoor's eyes widen as she grins. "Well, let's go drink some shitty champagne to toast that, shall we?"

"Yeah, let's go"

Right before I lock the door of the supermarket, I think I hear a baby's delighted laugh. I smile along.

Next year is gonna be good. I can feel it.