Lost Baby

   Ruby slipped as she was descending the ladder and cursed as a graceful arc of splatters landed on the floor from the wet paint brush. For the umpteenth time she wished she hadn’t listened when Eric told her that it was a great idea to fix up this old house, but he was nothing if not persuasive. Those house flippers on reality television with their glossy hair and white teeth made home restoration look much easier than it was in real life. As she was on her knees wiping up the mess, Eric appeared, his guitar case slung on his shoulder. He surveyed the newly painted wall.

 “That looks good. Hey, did you notice you’d missed a spot there?” Oblivious to Ruby’s narrowed eyes and sharp intake of breath, he continued. “I'd help with that, but I forgot it’s band practice tonight, so I’d better get going. See you in a bit.”

Before she could protest, the door shut behind him. Ruby stared at it for a moment, gritting her teeth and repressing the urge to scream. The novelty of dealing with his half-finished projects was wearing off fast and now she also had to compete with the band for his limited attention span. She sighed and continued cleaning up.

   She had just flopped down on the couch with a cup of tea when there was a knock at the door. She jerked it open.

 “Did you forget your keys again?”

 “Have you seen my boy Karl?”

Ruby found herself looking down into the bright, blue eyes of an old lady, her softly wrinkled face framed by fluffy, white hair, who was standing on the porch wringing her hands.

 “I beg your pardon. Can I help you?” Ruby said, taken aback.

 “I’m looking for my son,” said the old lady, pushing past into the living room.

Ruby looked up and down the street outside. There were no parked cars or pedestrians nearby. Her visitor seemed to have dropped in from nowhere. She turned round to find the old lady appraising the room.

“Sorry about the mess,” Ruby said automatically before wondering why she was always apologizing. “What’s your name? Are you lost?”

 “I’m Hettie. I’m not lost, but my son is.” The old lady’s eyes filled with tears. “He might be in his room.”

She headed unerringly to one of the bedrooms, Ruby tagging along behind her.

 “Look,” said the old woman. The painted walls were dingy and marked with the scuffs and scratches of decades. There were lighter patches where furniture and pictures had once been. The old lady was pointing to a spot on the wall where Ruby could barely decipher the faint pencil marks of a height chart inscribed with a list of dates from the 1960s.

  “Where’s his crib? His crib should be here.”

She looked around in bewilderment.

“Hettie, did you ever live in this house?” Ruby asked.

The old lady nodded, pressing a gnarled finger against the numbers on the wall, tears trickling down her cheeks.

  “Let’s sit down,” Ruby said, gently steering her visitor back to the living room and handing her a tissue. “How did you get here? Can I call someone to come and get you?”

 “Karl is lost.” The old woman rocked, wringing her hands and shredding the tissue. “His name is Karl. He's my baby boy. I need to find my Karl.”

Ruby knelt beside her.

“Hettie, can you tell me where you live?”

 At that moment, the front door opened, and Eric burst in.

  “Hi, forgot my music. Just need to grab it and I'll be off.”

The old lady looked up at him beseechingly.

 “Have you seen my Karl?”

He recoiled abruptly.

“What the…Who are you and what are you doing here?”

 Ruby quickly pulled him aside.

 “I think she’s lost, but she knows her way round the house. She might have lived in this house a long time ago. What should we do? We can’t let her go off by herself. I can’t get her to tell me if she has family. I hate to call the police in case that scares her.”

 “Why did you let her in? That was stupid,” he said. “I’ve got to get back. The guys are waiting. Call the police or whatever. Just get rid of her.”

Hettie looked up as he departed.

 “Well, he’s not a very nice man.”

 “I’m beginning to agree with you,” Ruby said.

There was a knock on the door.

“What now?” Ruby muttered as she opened it to a middle-aged couple who smiled with relief as they saw Hettie.

   “Hettie, you have to stop wandering off like this. We’ve been so worried.”

The woman turned to Ruby. “I’m Lily, her daughter-in-law and this is her son Stan. I’m sorry she bothered you.”

  “No problem,” said Ruby, smiling. “Come in and join the party.” Hettie’s eyes lit up.

  “Stan, have you seen Karl? He’s not in his room and his crib’s gone too.”

Stan held out his hand.

  “Come on, Mom. Let’s get in the car and we can talk about Karl.”

Hettie obediently got up and followed him out onto the porch.

Lily turned to Ruby.

 “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of her. The family lived here years ago when the boys were little. Karl was Stan’s little brother. He died here when he was a baby, what they called a cot death back then. Since her dementia’s been getting worse, she’s been fixated on finding him. She managed to slip out today, We've been looking all over for her and then we thought she might be here.”

  “That is so sad. Poor thing, to lose her child all over again,” said Ruby. “I’m only glad you thought of coming here to look for her. I’m happy I was able to help. Let me say goodbye to her.”

Ruby hugged Hettie gently.

  “You’ll tell me if you find Karl, won’t you?” said Hettie.

  “Of course, I will.”

  “And don’t let that mean man speak to you like that again, my dear. You need to find a nice young man.” Hettie wagged an admonishing finger at Ruby, her blue eyes momentarily clear and focused. “You deserve better.”

  “Yes, indeed I think I do,” Ruby said as she waved farewell.