Rough Beginnings

Roxy hummed a quiet song, remaining as still as she could. The little head peeked out from its hiding place behind the tree, the large ears pinned back in fear.

Roxy was careful not to react, continuing to hum the song that was stuck in her head. Whatever it was, it was frightened, and possibly wounded, if the blood on the ground belonged to it. The only way she could help would be to get the creature’s trust.

As she hummed, she heard the creature’s high-pitched whine in response. She made sure not to look directly at it, lest she scare it. The creature emerged from behind the tree.

It was no more than a foot tall. A rabbit-like body below, with a humanoid trunk, arms, and head with huge, twitching, rabbit ears. She’d heard of centaurs and cervitaurs, but this was new. The human-like parts were soft and pudgy, and the face looked infantile.

In careful glances, Roxy saw that one rear leg was bloody and the creature avoided putting any weight on it. She put a slow hand out toward the creature. It tried to hop toward her and stumbled, letting out a cry. It lay down on the grass, letting out a weak wail just as any baby would being scared, hurt, and separated from its mother.

Seeing it helpless like that, Roxy couldn’t help but pick it up, careful to avoid the injured leg. She cradled it to her chest and held a finger to its face. The creature latched on, sucking on her finger.

“Right,” she said. “You’re still tiny, aren’t you?”

When it began fussing again, she went back to humming and it calmed right down. As she walked, the rocking lulled the creature to sleep. She wondered whether to seek out a doctor or a veterinarian. The vet would likely know how to treat the leg but was under no oath to keep the details of their patient private. Taurids were rare in this part of the country, and she’d never heard of a rabbit taurid. This little creature was not going to end up in a lab or “adopted” by some rich scumbag who just wanted to own something rare.

Roxy looked at the little face. Even in sleep the pain was obvious, and she felt her heart breaking. Despite all the differences, it was more like a human infant than an animal. Making up her mind, she continued past the vet’s office to the little emergency clinic.

When she walked in the doors, the nurse behind the desk jumped up and called out, “Doctor Fern!” Roxy realized that the way she carried the child, the injured leg hung in clear view, blood falling in a slow drip. She wasn’t sure when she’d stopped thinking of it as a creature but as a child, but she had.

When the doctor showed, Roxy felt a huge weight lift from her chest. The doctor was a centaur. She hadn’t been aware that any lived anywhere near her small town, but this was perfect.

“Please, I found the child in the woods. Besides the injury, I think she…he…might be hungry.”

The doctor led her through the double doors into a hallway lined with exam rooms. He opened the door of the first and motioned her in, calling out to the nurse, “Saline IV, twenty-four gauge, miraphine, and a thirty-mill bottle of infant formula. Do we have an ortho tray if I need it?”

“We do, doc.” The nurse pulled together everything they needed with a quiet efficiency. The doctor, meanwhile, had pulled on gloves while Roxy was busy rocking the child.

He lifted the child from her arms with gentle hands. Roxy found herself struggling not to snatch the child back, especially when it began to cry again. The cry was weak but steady, the tiny face turning red with exertion.

The doctor tried his best to calm the child, to no avail. Roxy knelt next to the exam table and held its little hand and hummed. The child calmed.

The nurse placed a lead apron over Roxy’s shoulders, moving an X-ray camera on an overhead armature down to point at the child’s leg. “Let’s see if she can be still enough to get a picture,” she said.

The nurse and doctor both left the room, and the camera made a short hum and clicked. They came back in the doctor nodded at the image on the computer monitor in the room. “Two foreign bodies, no breaks, no fractures.”

He turned and got the IV started. “You’re dehydrated and starving, aren’t you?” His voice was soft, pitched up an octave from his normal speaking voice. Continuing in the quiet, sing-song voice he said, “Nurse, push twelve mics miraphine.”

“Twelve micrograms miraphine, pushing.” The nurse kept her tone quiet like the doctor.

As the drug entered the little body, the face that Roxy had already memorized relaxed. The little lips sucked at nothing, and Roxy felt the nurse pushing a small baby bottle into her hand. When she offered the warm bottle, the child sucked at it eagerly, a small trickle of formula leaking from one corner of its mouth.

Occupied with feeding the child, Roxy didn’t notice the nurse cleaning the wound, shaving the leg, and rolling a cart over next to the doctor. It was only when the child’s eyes flew open wide and it cried out around the nipple that she looked.

The doctor dropped something hard into a metal pan with a “thunk”, and reached back in the hole with the long, thin tweezers. “There’s a bone fragment, but it’s not hers.” The sound of this one was a soft “tink.”

“Do we need another x-ray, doctor?” the nurse asked.

“No, it was just the two, and no breaks or fractures. The bullet went through someone else before it hit our little girl here.”

Roxy’s vision swam behind building tears. “It—it’s probably her mother. We need to find her.”

The doctor finished sewing up the little leg and bandaging it. Meanwhile, the baby girl had emptied the bottle and fell into a sound sleep. Roxy wiped the little cheek with her thumb. “We’ll find your mommy and get you home.”

A large hand rested on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. This little girl has been alone for at least a full day. We…may not find her mother…at least not alive. We’ll need to move her to the hospital overnight for more fluids and monitoring. The ambulance will be here soon.”

“Can I…go with her?”

“I’ll let the ambulance know you’re riding along when they get here,” the nurse said. “Right now, though, there’s police here to talk to you.”

It took all her willpower to leave the child sleeping in the room under the care of the nurse while she went out to the hallway to speak with the police. She told them where she’d found the child, how she’d heard its keening wail and followed it. She finished up with, “We need to find her mother. She’s probably out there hurt, somewhere. Maybe unconscious….”

This was the first look she’d actually taken at the officers. The younger, a light brown man with dark brown hair and brown eyes, shifted his weight from foot to foot and his eyes looked everywhere but at Roxy.

The older, a woman with pale skin and ruddy cheeks, orange hair pulled up in a harsh bun under her hat, stared at her with hard, blue eyes. “Her mother was brought to the hospital yesterday afternoon,” she said. “Hunting accident, supposedly, but we’re still investigating.”

“Oh, thank the gods.” Roxy was giddy with relief for a moment…until she saw the officer’s face. “Is she…is…?”

“She died enroute. I’m sorry.”

Roxy collapsed to her knees, sobbing for the poor child. “What’s going to happen to her? Where will she go?”

The officer sent her subordinate away and sat cross-legged on the floor with Roxy. “Until we can locate her family, she’ll have to go into foster care. If we can’t locate them, then she’ll become a ward of the state.”

“It’s not right.”

“No, it’s not.” The officer’s hard eyes softened. “If you want to take care of her, let the social worker at the hospital know. I can start the background check for it now, if you like. I’d just need to see your ID for a moment.”

Roxy nodded, her thoughts racing to nowhere. She pulled her wallet out of her pocket and noticed the blood stain on her jacket. It was all she could do to hand the ID over without falling apart again.

The officer scanned her ID with her phone and entered something on the screen before handing the ID back. “The ambulance is pulling up now. You’re riding with the girl?”

“Ye—yeah.”

She helped Roxy to her feet and led her out to the ambulance with an arm around her shoulders. One medic helped her in as the baby was wheeled to the ambulance by the other on a gurney to which she was strapped in by a padded harness and wearing the tiniest diaper.

The ride to the hospital seemed interminable, but the girl slept through it all, the gentle rocking keeping her out. Roxy kept her finger in the grasp of her tiny hand the whole way.

Once in the hospital there was a moment of confusion, as the ER doctor looked at the bandage and the chart. “Why are they doing surgery there?” she asked, flipping to the last page of the chart. “Oh, lucky little girl.”

She turned to Roxy. “Are you the guardian?”

“Um…I don’t know? I found her, and don’t want to leave her alone, especially since her mother….” She couldn’t continue as her throat constricted and tears blocked her vision.

“I’ll put that down as ‘Yes’, the doctor said. And Doctor Fern will be listed as the admitting doctor. He’s our head of pediatric surgery.”

The doctor looked human, rich, warm-brown skin, black braids, and deep-brown eyes, but her ears had a slight point to them. Roxy knew there were all types in the city, but she generally didn’t go there unless it was urgent, and she mostly avoided everyone else.

Rather than stare, she watched as the child was lifted from the ambulance gurney to the small hospital bed. Once the gurney was out of the way, Roxy was right back by her side, her finger held in the tiny grasp, humming to soothe her as she began to fuss again.

“I’m Doctor Miraux, and I’ll be on duty tonight. Looks like we’re monitoring. Making sure she’s eating, and urinating, and not spiking any fevers. Will you be spending the night in the room with her?”

Roxy nodded. If she had her way, she’d never leave her side.

During the night, the child woke her three times. The first two times, she wanted a bottle, and Roxy changed her tiny diaper, careful not to move her leg too much. She hummed as she did so and continued until the child had gone back to sleep.

The third time the child woke her with a high-pitched screech. Roxy bolted upright and grabbed her little hand. “It’s okay, little one, you’re not alone.” She hummed as the child cried, then hiccupped, then went back to sleep sucking her lip.

Roxy woke in the morning to the smell of coffee. Her eyes burned and her mouth felt like sandpaper. She looked up to see a stout woman, thick, horn-rimmed glasses on a pink, grandmotherly face beneath a white halo of hair. The woman held out a tray of hospital breakfast, complete with coffee and orange juice to Roxy.

“Thanks.” Until she began eating, Roxy had no idea how hungry she was. She gulped down the orange juice at once and took her time with the coffee.

“I’m Miriam Walker, social worker for Hillside General. And you must be Roxy Parker.”

“Y—yes.”

“I have your background check from officer Bevins that you spoke to yesterday. I just need to know if you’ve changed your mind. Sometimes, things look different in the light of a new day.”

“No!” Roxy steeled her gaze. “I’m not leaving this little girl alone. She deserves better.”

Miriam smiled. “Her name is Isobel Jean Maes. Her mother, Renata Neesken Maes, passed away two days ago, and has no living family we can find. We still don’t know who the father is but we’re looking.”

Roxy looked at the little girl, starting to stir and fuss. She hummed the same song again, and lightly sang out, “My love Isobel…living by herself….” Isobel cooed.

 “She’s no doubt traumatized right now,” Miriam said, “but children this age are resilient. After observing you here all night, I’ve already approved you as temporary guardian. It will take some time to get Isobel in the system and maybe find a better fit for permanent place—”

“How do I apply to make it permanent?”

“You’ll have to fill out an adoption request, and it will need to be processed by Social Services. I’ve already prepared a packet for you with the forms and information, along with Isobel’s medical records. My card is stapled to the front. Feel free to call me with any questions.” Miriam put the packet on the table and held out a clipboard. “If you could sign on the bottom, you’re set to go. Press hard, you’re making four copies.”

Roxy signed, and Miriam removed the pink copy from the bottom and placed it in the packet. Miriam gave her and the child a warm smile. “Anything you need, call me.”

Doctor Fern entered as Miriam left. “Let’s see how our little girl is doing today.” His voice was again the soft, high, singsong he’d used in the urgent care. After changing the bandage, aided by a pacifier and Roxy’s humming, he signed off on the paperwork.

He spoke to Roxy in his normal voice, a rich baritone. “I’ve prescribed antibiotics for little Isobel. One milliliter, morning and night, until it’s gone. As a new mother, you’ll need diapers, size P-3 to start, standard formula, thirty milliliters per feeding, and as much as she wants after. She’ll be ready to start on solid food in about two more months. Leputaurs, although they aren’t really rabbits, are primarily herbivorous, so no meat or fish. The occasional egg-enriched bread or cake is fine, though, and dairy is recommended as long as she handles it well.

“The hospital will send you home with the antibiotics, some diapers, some formula, a car seat, and a small, infant-safe plush toy. I’d recommend picking up more diapers and formula on the way home. She’ll grow much faster than a human baby, so be ready for that.”

“I don’t know how to thank you, Doctor.”

“Just take care of her, that’s thanks enough. And if you need a pediatrician, I’m on duty at the urgent care center in Lakeview every Friday. It’s long drive to the city, and I’d love to keep seeing her.”

“You will.”

Roxy sat next to Isobel’s car seat in the back of the cab. Roxy sang her to sleep and looked at her little, pink face with an overflowing of affection. “You had a rough beginning, little girl, but I’ll make sure the rest goes better for you.”