Cara

"I've got you, baby," I said as I held my bundle close to my chest. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here." I looked down into the face of the only human I knew who had never intentionally hurt me. "Mama's got you. Mama's here."

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After giving my baby a swift kiss on the forehead, I hid its face in the crook of my shoulder and looked up into the night. We had been on the run for three days. My milk supply was diminishing. I needed to eat something so I could keep feeding the baby. We had made it to some water, although it wasn't drinkable. It was too salty, but it looked pretty the way the waves crashed around, almost glowing in the moonlight.

Under other circumstances, I may have wondered what part of the coast it was, but right then I had more pressing matters. I looked around the vacant docks and spotted a small gas station. It looked like it had been out of business for a while, but, even if there was no food, there was shelter. I cringed as I heard my hollow stomach growl angrily, begging for me to feed it.

Drawing in a deep breath and willing the air in my lungs to somehow give me strength, I stepped out from behind the trash bin that had been hiding us. The darkness closed in around us and I ran; I ran as fast as my bare feet could carry me across the parking lot to the building.

There was a chain on the door. It looked shiny and new, which struck me as odd. It seemed out of place on the old building, but, more importantly, I didn't have a key to open the lock. I looked through the window; the dim light coming from the single street lamp in the parking lot illuminated the room inside just enough that I could see it. There was food! Looking back down at my baby's face, I knew I had to get in there. I needed food and we both needed shelter. I pulled on the door and it opened just a little, but the chain kept it closed enough that I couldn't fit through.

"We have to find another way," I whispered in the faint glow of the street light. I used the dim light to survey the rest of the building. On the back side there was a lean to with firewood stacked under it. Too many of my days had been spent chopping wood and stacking it in a lean to just like this one.

I pushed those thoughts as far from my mind as I could and tried to focus. Above the lean to there was a little window. Maybe, I could throw a rock on the roof and use it to break the window. I looked around on the ground. There was nothing I could use to climb onto the roof of the lean to, but there was broken lattice along the side of it. What would I do with the baby? I wasn't a skilled enough climber to do it with one hand. Just then the baby began to whimper.

"Shh, shhhh, please don't cry. I will take care of you." I sat down against the wall of the building and pulled up my shirt. It was torn and dirty. At one time it had had a picture of a bear in a hat and it said something about wildfires, but now it was too ratty to see anything other than the past I was running away from; the future I wouldn't let my baby have. As I helped the little mouth find my nipple I hummed a lullaby that my mother used to sing to me. It was the only one I knew. The words had been forgotten years ago, but the tune was a source of comfort for me. When things would get really bad I would close my eyes and hum to myself to drown out my surroundings.

"I'm going to find us a home, baby. I promise." As the baby nursed I looked back up at the window. "We have to get in there." I looked down on the face pressed against my breast. "I will get in there for you." With conviction, I made a promise that was never made to me, "I will always protect you."

Soon those tiny eyes closed and the suckling slowly came to a stop. When I heard the slow and even breathing of sleep, I put the swaddled infant down against the wall and put my plan into action. Moving fast so the baby wouldn't get too cold, I found a large rock near one of the docks. I ran back to the lean to and threw it up on the roof. It landed with a loud crashing noise and rolled off, narrowly missing my bare toes as it landed in the clay dirt with a thud. "Shit," I mumbled to myself as I thought for a moment.

"Okay, let's try it a different way." I picked the rock back up and threw it directly at the window. At least, I meant for it to hit the window. It actually hit the wall of the building and, again, came crashing to the ground. I picked the rock back up and mustered as much strength as I could, which wasn't much at that point, and threw the rock again. That time it crashed through the window, shattering the glass and clanging to the ground inside.

"Yes!" I quickly checked on the baby, still asleep, then began to climb up the lattice. It hurt to bear my weight on my bare toes stuck through the holes of the shaky structure, but it was the only way I could get up there. By the time I made it to the top, I was on the brink of tears.

"Please, work," I begged my plan. "I need you to work."

The roof was unstable, so I crawled across it rather than get to my feet. When I came to the window, I peered inside. It was black. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust, but when they did I could make out a toilet and a mirror that reflected a small amount of light from the moon and stars. It was a bathroom! Across from the mirror I could see an open door that led to the food. I felt an overwhelming urge to climb in right then and there and indulge myself, but I had to get the baby.

Painfully, I climbed back down the side of the lean to, wobbled over to where my tiny bundle was sleeping and carefully picked it up. I walked quickly back to the front of the building where the chain held the door closed. I pushed on it again. The opening was too small for me to fit through, but if I put all my body weight into pushing, I was able to open it just enough to fit the baby through.

I offered up a silent prayer to a god I didn't believe in and gave my baby a firm kiss on the forehead. "I love you," I whispered as I placed the bundle on the ground and gently slid it through the opening.

After quietly letting the door close again, I ran back to the lean to and climbed up as fast as I could. My heart was pounding in my ears. Having my baby out of sight and out of reach was giving me the worst anxiety I'd ever experienced. I had to get in there. Now.

I crawled across the roof of the lean to and reexamined the glass on the window. If I crawled through it like that it would butcher me. I tried to pull it out of the frame, and succeeded with one of the larger pieces, but the old glass was too well-set to budge. I took off my ratty shirt, wrapped it around my hand, and used it to break off the remaining shards of glass. I threw the shirt on the floor of the bathroom and proceeded to climb through the window.

It was small, but so was I. My head and arms fit through easily, but my engorged chest was larger than it used to be. My heart was still pounding and I was sweating, anxiously wriggling to fit my thin body through the hole. When I got to my hips I felt a sharp pain as a remaining shard of glass cut through my skin where the bone protruded.

"Ah! Damn it," I cried as I continued my struggle to get to my baby. When I had my thighs in the window I reached out for something to hold. My hand found the sink just below the mirror and I used it to balance as I pulled my right leg through and stood on the toilet before pulling in the left one.

There was broken glass everywhere making the room shimmer in the faint moonlight, but I was too worried about my baby to care.

I hit the floor running and felt the sharp bite of the tiny crystals. Through the door I could see the bundle of rags. I ran and fell to the floor next to it, my chest heaving, my feet stinging, my hip burning where sweat was mixing with blood. But the moment I saw that face I was okay.

My baby was there, still peacefully sleeping.

I picked it up and moved away from the door. With my baby in one arm I raided the stores shelves. Most of the food looked strange to me. Some of it I had seen him eat in the past, but I had never been allowed such luxury.

There were some bananas on one shelf that were almost completely black, just like the ones I was given to make banana bread. They would do for now, at least I knew what they were. I opened one and practically swallowed the yellow mush without chewing. Then another, and another.

I found some bread on another shelf. I struggled to open it with one hand, but finally tore through the plastic bag. It was dry, but not molded yet, and I quickly ate it while searching for something to drink. Then I spotted some water in a fridge with a glass door. The water helped to wash down the dry bread, and then I was full.

With food in my belly and knowing my baby was safe, fatigue began to set in. I searched the room for a decent place to sleep, but there was only floor.

There was a door at the other end of the room, right next to the bathroom where I had come in. I reached for the handle and found that it was unlocked. Carefully, I opened it. It was a small room with a skylight. There was a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, but I wouldn't turn it on. I was too afraid that someone might be lurking outside and see the light. The skylight provided enough moonlight for me to see the shelves lined with beautiful boxes. They looked like they had been hand carved from the red trees along the highway that I had followed.

Some of them were intricate, beautiful works of art, like little treasure chests. Others were more simple, but all of them were raw wood. The whole room smelled of freshly cut wood, and there was what looked like the beginnings of another box on a table in the corner. There was a knife there too. I swiped it off the table, just in case, and left the little room.

Back in the main part of the store I found a clothing display in the corner. I was still half naked and was getting chilled, so I grabbed a shirt that had a picture of a man fishing and pulled it over my head. Then I grabbed the whole section of sweaters and put them on the floor out of view from the door and windows. I spread some out to lay on top of, bunched one up as a pillow, and used the rest to cover me and my baby like a blanket.

There, on the floor of an abandoned gas station, with a chain on the door to protect us, I slept peacefully for the first time since giving birth.