The Stolen Baby Dream

I was at a white counter buying a ticket for a train trip. As I waited at the counter, I saw a baby. Wrapped up in blue blankets and cap, it looked like a burrito and was only the size of a burrito.

The station was crowded and busy. Having procured my ticket, I realized no one was looking after the baby, so I took him and got on the train.

The baby was sleeping. Getting off at a stop, I set the baby down and ate lunch. The baby awoke, so I fed him. I was thinking about what I’d done. Guilt and shame seized me. What had I done? What did I do? What was I thinking? I needed to return the baby to his family.

But the baby was gone.

I didn’t understand how that was possible. A short, frantic search found him a few feet away in the grass. I gave him water and he went to sleep.

Although I didn’t want to get into trouble, I got onto the train and went back, arriving at the station as a search for the child was underway. I went to the station agent, a black woman. “I found this baby,” I said.

She was happy, telling me they’d be looking for him. I raced away before I could be questioned.

I wanted to buy a bag of candy. Cutting back though the train station, I heard the story about me finding and returning the baby. Avoiding everyone possible, I purchase a large bag of red licorice and left.

Rain was falling and it was dark. Cutting across the traffic, I went up a steep street toward a university. Buses were parked in the streets, blocking the way. Someone asked me where I was going. I replied, “I need to find a place to stop.” He answered, “You can’t park here. This is for school buses.”

Stopping, I fabricated signs with the name of a school on it. Then I found an empty space and placed the signs in it to reserve the space. The same man as before said, “You’re with a school?”

“Yes,” I lied without remorse. I was doing what I needed to do.

 

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