Infalien
Leaving
It had been a long, bumpy bus ride and we were exhausted. It’s hard enough lugging my own bags but I had to carry Jason, his clothes and deal with his stroller. The number of good Samaritans on the bus was truly forgettable. Fortunately, Jason slept most of the way and had only eaten a little this morning, dispensing with that one unpleasant duty.
I was also fortunate in that only Mr. Baker, the general store owner had seen us depart before the town’s folk really hit the streets. He called out to me “Hey, Cathy, where are you and Jason off to this fine day?” I pretended as though I was busy, which I was, and ignored him. The less anyone knew the better. I wasn’t running scared or anything. I have always been a survivor. I just knew it was time to go. It’s time to start fresh, where nobody knows who we are.
This time my ticket was for a sleepy town in the hills of West Virginia, but who is to say if that’s where we will stay. That depends on the residents. If they get too inquisitive, like before, then I’ll have no choice but to take up roots again. At least if I can find some haven for the two us before Jason is required to go to school, that would be awesome. Once I have to comply with the school system, all bets are off.
The bus ride was uneventful and we both dozed off and on before nearing the farms and foot hills adjacent to the town. I arranged for a property broker to take us to the house I had conditionally rented. He met us at the bus and we drove up the hill just exchanging niceties. Jason was wrapped up tight and still groggy so that didn`t present any problem.
What Lies Ahead
I have played scenarios over and over again in my mind. How will I deal with a landlord this time? What will the neighbours be like? Will the local minister and sheriff figure things out and get all up in my face? It came too close last time. We always stuck to ourselves and didn’t try to make friends. That would only spell trouble. If I needed to talk, which wasn’t often, I made sure it was with the dumbest hicks around. Sometimes I even chatted up the local vagrant just to make trivial conversation.
Relationships were out of the question and I expected as much for the next few years as well. Don’t get me wrong, if and when I was lucky enough to line up a dumb-as-a-stump baby-sitter, I would glitz myself up and check out the night spots in the next town over. I had the looks so it was pretty easy to separate some tender meat from the herd. I didn’t over-drink because drawing too much attention would make me too memorable, and I always planned to take myself home. However, I also kept enough cash on me to pay for a one-hour motel.
Outside of my own play-dates, Jason couldn’t have any. One thing I discovered is that, although many young girls, and guys, are total air-heads, young mothers learn to be observant really quickly. I guess it comes naturally. Anything near our child gets scrutinized to the nth degree. Well I wasn’t having any of that for Jason. It just wouldn’t do. So we did everything together when I wasn’t working.
Lucky for me I was able to pick up work without a problem. I had been a hard worker in shipping and receiving, mailrooms and the like. So since I controlled when we left a town, I would always get a good letter of reference. I banked them and pulled out what I needed for the next job.
With Jason growing quicker these days, it may only be about two years before I need a new plan. I don’t know what will happen or how I can possibly protect him. Hell, maybe he’ll be protecting me!
Looking Back
Cameron was an absolute tool. He was distant from the day we brought Jason home from the hospital. Our three-year romance had been fine up until I learned I was pregnant, and then the air became thick. We were just marking time and he kept very much to himself.
Although he wasn’t the brightest bulb, even he could figure out that there was a little problem with the timing. After all, he had been at the oil rigs off and on for about four months, but when he was home we were very, very careful.
I never told him about the dreams I had been having. I was sure he would think I was looney. What the hell? He ended up leaving anyway. Who can blame him I guess. One look at Jason and it was adios for Cameron.
There was no resemblance whatsoever. His earlier suspicions were obviously correct. For him to doubt and then get confirmation that he was not Jason’s father was too much for him to handle. He did one thing for me, at my request, and that was to find me a nanny who was an illegal immigrant. One wrong word, honey, and it’s deportation for you. That worked for Jason and me.
Crossing Paths
Four months ago I saw Cameron in one of the bars I frequented. Needless to say, the mood was not conducive to picking up anyone for a romp while his eyes were glaring at me. He did take a moment, though, to ask how I was doing and if Jason was well. I showed him a recent photo, and Cameron nearly fell off his barstool.
It was then that I chose to tell him about the dreams I had when he was working out of town and we talked for quite a while. He, in turn, told me he had woken me up out of several nightmares, while he was around. I had fallen back to sleep immediately each time, so he left it alone. And I, apparently, didn’t know I had had a rough night.
It was like I had been in an operating room with lots of instruments and lights. I could see myself immobile and silent, but little came into focus. Cameron told me of times I had yelled ‘get away from her’! He thought it was all about him. What a man.
What I did remember were the instruments. All were mechanical and automatic, like something out of a movie. Some were probing my girl parts; at least that’s what I thought they were doing. While I looked at myself I felt the pain clearly but was helpless. A small gathering was looking on but I couldn’t make out faces.
Some days I couldn’t remember the dreams or any details at all. They would come and go without my control.
Relativity
When I tested positive for pregnancy a few short weeks after the first dream, I started to clue in. Later, when Cameron saw Jason for the first time, without any hair and with a vestigial tail, I shut down completely. Saying anything, to anyone, would be futile. I didn’t have my script yet.
Now a vestigial tail is rare but it happens. It’s a left over from the embryonic stage, and people do have them. The no hair thing, coupled with a stare that could go right through you… well that had done the trick for Cameron.
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One might think that since we had shared a few drinks and a few hours, Cameron might have stepped up and consoled me or even wanted to see me again, but nope. He wasn’t about to play ‘What’s behind door number two?’
Strangely enough, he never asked who the father was. It’s like he knew better. Like it wouldn’t be an answer he could swallow. In this he was smart. I was already quite convinced that a search for Jason’s father would not be to my benefit. As for Jason, was ‘father’ even the right word? Perhaps ‘donor’ is more appropriate.
Thankfully, Cameron had done well on the oil rigs and arranged to give me enough money that I could try to work from home, wherever that might be, and not leave Jason alone or with anyone. I had plenty of ideas. I’m sure I could come up with something.
Time Will Tell
In the first few months, when asked about my little guy, there was a lot of ‘I don’t know’, and ‘I brought him to a specialist but…’ and ‘his father was Asian’. It didn’t last long. He was growing too quickly. It was important for us to keep on the move, and not stay long enough for people to notice.
When he saw a dog for the first time it wasn`t like the typical encounter. Normally you would say oh look at the cuddly little puppy or some such thing. Nope, Jason just paused, glared at it, and the dog ran off. The same thing goes for cats, rabbits… basically anything with fur.
He would pick up words too. Not momma or teddy, but phrases and questions. Babies don’t ask questions! Parents always ask the questions. Yeah, sure I have a stroller because I have to keep up appearances. He can even walk already, damn it! It’s way too soon. When we get to a new town I’ll let him push.
I am really afraid of the next growth spurt though. His fingers aren’t cute and chubby. They’re slender and getting long. Yes, he’s in pull-ups but he can sit up just fine, mostly because his tail is so strong he can lean back on it. Hair… still none, but that can be explained away by fictitious chemo treatments. That’s the tough part. He would make a great human interest story if the papers got wind. Have to keep moving. Keep hiding him. Keep making crap up.
He will likely be as tall as me by the time he should be entering JK. That’s when my wild ass stories will stop. I don’t know what I’ll do. Moving won’t be the answer.
Who’s Calling the Shots Now
We settled in the most out-of-the-way setting I could find. Rented an old house up on a hill and had the grocer in town deliver almost everything I needed, well, we needed. Jason’s diet was getting a little away from me. He enjoyed water and greens but nothing that walked on all fours. On six or eight legs, oh yeah, even on two legs with wings, if he could catch it, which was no big deal. He could focus on a bird flying overhead and it would suddenly drop from the sky.
My expenses were few and I put overalls, boots and a floppy hat on Jason. It wasn’t like I was going to dress him up for Sunday school or the local fair. Then again I could make a few bucks with him at a fair.
Needless to say, he liked working in the small garden I had out back. He was seemingly happy, always able to grab a little snack as it crawled by. The grocer thought I lived alone and had a handyman around once in a while. Luckily, just like Mr. Baker, this grocer was oblivious to most things and just went about his business.
Jason didn’t sleep much. He rested in dimly lit rooms, which seemed especially creepy, but I got used to so many things. I trained him not to go the door and to stay clear of the windows. He had to be dressed in his cruddy overalls and stuff before going outside. He didn’t make much noise either. When he spoke it was out of necessity to respond to my thoughts. I didn’t like it when he put thoughts into my head. That was the extent of my control, however.
He was the boss. He understood we needed to be covert, but the routine, the rest time, the gardening time, the noise level and the lighting were all him. He co-operated and tolerated me while he appeared to be waiting. Waiting for what? Every evening, just at dusk, he would pop on his old clothes and stand in the backyard, just staring, as he does anyway, over the trees in the distance.
The Gift
Obviously, truancy was no longer an issue. I had a handyman, that’s all. Good thing nobody wanted Jason to work for them. Time passed and Jason’s form didn’t change much more. Slightly taller than me, and I’m only 5’2”. His features were not like your average bald, slant-eyed, pickpocket. Of course, then there’s the tail. His head was also a little too big for his body. Not a looker to be sure. And I’m his mother you say. Shame! Get over it. I did.
I faced my darkest fears years ago. He was far from normal. More disturbing, having given birth to him, he had no visible traits that belonged to me. Was there something of me inside of him at least?
I had protected him and he had sort of respected me, but was it a mother-son relationship? No, we acted more like co-workers, duty-bound, pleasant if it suited us and not really ever fighting. Besides, he appeared to be an adult already, if I can call him that at all. I can’t say why, but I just feel it.
As the waiting persisted, he no longer vocalized. His talent for getting into my head and even commanding me to do things was amazing and powerful. I would ask him questions, silently, and he would never give a definite, simple, answer. It was always something, a feeling, to the effect that everything would be made clear soon. Soon… it’s been months since he started his nightly vigil!
Still, he waited, and waited, until one cloudless evening, quite late. He was standing, looking to the top of the trees when they started bending over, without wind. The stars in the gap left by the trees disappeared. Then, weirder, the car noise from the road below stopped, as did the bats that had been whipping by to catch their next meal. Nothing moved but Jason and me.
With one seemingly choreographed move, Jason shed his hat, boots and overalls. Now he stared somewhat lower, toward the tree line, but nothing was there, or so I thought. A hum stirred the silence and a ramp appeared in front of a blurry outline of a large structure or craft.
A stranger, looking similar to Jason, but lacking any human traits, descended the ramp and the two of them faced each other not uttering a sound. They seemed to be in silent conversation for what felt like several minutes. The stranger started back up the ramp followed by Jason. Then Jason turned to look my way and my mind was flooded with warmth, comfort and well-being. The only coalescing thought was ‘Thank you, they are pleased’, and I knew that Jason was happy and going home now.
The ramp slowly retracted. I projected my goodbyes to Jason and wiped the tears from my cheeks. The blurred craft disappeared and the bats continued on their way. I turned in for the night and pondered his departure. I guess meeting Jason again was not to be, and I resigned myself to the whole event and the years that had passed. Looking forward to a semi-normal future, I fell off to sleep.
Waking at dawn somewhat refreshed and relieved, I was suddenly struck with a disturbing wave of fear. The dream had returned. I had a terrible cramping in my stomach followed by a flash of clarity.
I rolled out of bed and stared out over the trees thinking to myself… what name will I choose if this one’s female?
