Little One

        The weather outside was miserable, the last thing in the world Barbara wanted was to have to go to the store. The idiot delivery service had forgotten her milk and would be unable to get it to her today because of the in coming storm. Idiots, of all things to forget, hitting a patch of ice she slid around the corner barely missing a telephone pole. Easing into the grocery store parking lot, she was relieved it was empty, that meant no imbeciles to deal with. Soft snow started falling from the cinder grey sky, she hunched her shoulders against the bitter cold. With each step towards the building the snow became heavier and the wind whipped it about her head. Minutes after stepping into the store entrance a howling wind set down on the store and blew the snow into a blinding blizzard.

               Other then the howling wind the store was quiet. Too quiet, no mom’s fighting brats wanting cookies, no stock boys slinging boxes into her path, and no speakers belting out what the stupid call music. A shiver raced across her like an army of spiders, her stomach rolled, she moved quickly towards the dairy aisle. Glancing over her shoulder the entire way, finally she arrived snagged a gallon of milk and hurried off. All she wanted was out of here, where was everyone? Catching movement out of the corner of her eye she looked up. A woman with long black hair was running out the front entrance. Stolen something no doubt, she shrugged and moved towards the checkout counter. Slamming the milk down on the counter she stiffened her spine, ready for a fight. This whole stupid trip was this stores fault. They would be paying for the milk not her, but she was not a coward like the dark-haired woman she would inform them she was not paying.

               A soft cooing pulled her towards the end of the counter. A baby, naked and still covered in delivery goo, laid on the cold linoleum. Carefully lifting the baby, a boy, she moved back towards the counter. Taking her coat, she carefully wrapped the baby and laid him on the counter next to the milk. So, the woman had not been stealing, abandoning a child instead. It would have been better if she would have been slipping some steaks into her pants.

               “Hello, Hello, where is everyone? HELLO!” she screamed the last startling the baby who began to cry. With a gentleness she had not employed for years she lifted the baby and soothed him.

               “There, there little one, everything is going to be alright. Can you do me a favor? Do not pee in my coat, please.” The little one cooed in response.

               Lifting the Little One from the counter she made her way towards the office. The office was locked and dark, she shivered. Every time, for the last six years, she had come to the store that office was always open. Wanting to find somebody she moved towards the back of the store there had to be someone here somewhere. No one was in the break room, no one in the stock area, no one anywhere.

               Moving thru the frozen foods section, she headed back towards the front she had to get to the phone in the office. Suddenly the lights flickered, then the sound of the wind howling outside doubled in noise and a tension left her. Little One squirmed in her arms and then quickly settled back down, she continued towards the front. The office door was open, holding Little One protectively close she walked into the office. No one inside, the old black phone was missing a couple of buttons, but it did not matter the line was dead. No choice she would have to see how bad it was outside. Finding the home goods aisle, she grabbed a stack of towels and moved back to the front. Laying Little One down on the counter she quickly turned a cart into a comfortable bed. Laying Little One into his new bed, she moved the cart away from the sliding doors. As the sliding doors slid open an icy blast greeted her, without her coat she was quickly chilled. The snow was already impassable, she stepped back inside resigned to wait it out.

               There were three things in this world Barbara hated, shoes, ignorant people, and traffic. With no one about and being in a building two of those where eliminated, she slipped her shoes off and killed the whole list. Little One needed supplies, pushing him she made her way down the baby aisle. Soon she had diapers, wipes, formula, water, and bottles. That would take care of his immediate needs, she was pleased to spot a small selection of baby clothes. Soon she had added a purple onesie with green dinosaurs, a couple of receiving blankets and a package of pacifiers to the pile. Making her way back to the office, it would be a cozy spot, she pushed Little One inside and unloaded his bed. Nothing was on the desk but the phone, she laid a towel out and gently laid Little One down. Unwrapping her coat, she pulled it out from under him. Grimacing at the smear of afterbirth, she dropped the coat and kicked it under the desk. Smiling, she shrugged Little One was worth a dry-cleaning bill.

               “Time for your first bath, Little One.” With a tenderness she did not know she had she began wiping Little One down. Nearly an entire package of wipes later, he was clean. With diaper in place and dinosaurs in position she laid Little One back into his bed. Then she set about making a bottle. Finally, clean, fed, and warm Little One dozed off. Now she could do some exploring, she could not explain why but she was excited, all her fear was gone.

               The store was a good size, not near as large as the box stores, but it had always been enough for her. Grabbing a cart she moved towards the deli section; the smell of rotisserie chicken greeted her nose.

               “So tonight folks, we will have rotisserie chicken, potato salad and sweet tea to dine upon.” She said in her best Julia Child accent, giggling. Barbara could not remember the last time she had giggled, what was going on. In a way it unnerved her and in another it freed her. Swinging by the office she checked on Little One and continued her exploration. Paper plates, plastic silverware, and some solo cups joined the chicken and potato salad in the cart.  A gallon of sweet tea and dinner was ready, but first one more stop. The book and magazine aisle was an old friend, she grabbed several of both and moved back towards the office.

               A week has passed, every minute is filled with the howling of the wind, every day she becomes more comfortable being Little One’s mother and every day she becomes happier. Today was a good a day as any to make the store their own. So, the first thing she wanted was to get them out of the cramped office. With Little One tended too and a safe distance from the chaos that was about to ensue, she wrestled the desk from the office leaving the phone behind. The area around the time clock would work nicely, it was wide open, and the clock gave the date and the time. After several trips to the home goods aisle she soon had a microwave, toaster, coffee pot and crock-pot in place. The first checkout counter became her cabinet holding plates, cups, silverware, and utensils, along with all Little Ones extra bottles and toys. The break room had been emptied of its folding table and chairs. In the stock room she had found a left over or early arrival of patio stuff including some lounge chairs, she would sleep good tonight. Over the next few days, she fell into a routine, tend to Little One, make coffee and then jog around the store. At first, she felt silly running about the store, but then her muscles responded with glee and she worked to move stuff to give her a clear track around the outside of the aisles. Each day she had to force herself not to thank about when the blizzard was over, she would not, in fact could not go back. With the daily exercise and care of another not only had she lost weight she had gained confidence something she refused to give up, so instead she did not think about it.

               Weeks turned into months; Barbara had known after about the second day that something had went terribly wrong. Blizzards did not last for days nevertheless months. Although she knew something was horribly amiss, she did not care, she and Little One had the life she always wanted. No worries about money, no more eight-hour days slogging away on a computer and no more stupid people to deal with. Occasionally she checked the phone line, always dead. Weekly she checked the doors and was always greeted with bitter cold and a wall of white. Barbara had decided no one knew Little One existed so when whatever this was ended, she would just simply take him home.

Six months gone she double checked her calculations to make sure she was right, six months her stomach lurched. Suddenly the howling wind ceased, and silence fell over the store like a blanket. Quickly racing towards the door, she saw sun light. Turning around she sped back and pulled Little One from his bed, she wrapped him in her coat and headed for the doors.

“Oh, Little One just wait until you feel the sun, your going to love it.” A since of urgency jumped upon her and she nearly ran from the store. The moment she stepped out; she knew. The smell of milkweed and the sound of the wobble birds confirmed it. But when the warmth of the two suns penetrated a cold that had lingered too long, she wept. Home she was finally home, her planet had pulled her back and given her a son.