this baby didn't look real. It had the arms and legs and fingers and head of a genuine baby, and it was slithery and streaked in blood.
"It was nice of him to let you deliver this one without an episiotomy," said Byron.
"What?" asked Nadine, gasping as her body convulsed to deliver the afterbirth. The bed was soaked in blood now.
"He didn't tear you. Coming out."
"What?"
"I've got to cut. The cord. Where are there any scissors? I don't want to go clear to the kitchen, don't you have scissors here?"
"Sewing scissors in the kit in the closet," she said.
The afterbirth spewed out onto the bed and Nadine whimpered a couple of times and fell asleep.
No, fell unconscious, that was the right term for it.
Byron got the kit open and took out the scissors and then found himself hesitating as he tried to decide what color thread to use. Until he finally realized that the color didn't matter. It was insane to even worry about it. Except what was sane about any of this? A woman who wasn't pregnant this morning, she gives birth before dinner?
He tied the umbilical cord and then tied it again, and between the two threads he cut the springy flesh. It was like cutting raw turkey skin.
Only when he was done did he realize what was wrong. The baby hadn't made a sound.
It just lay there on its back in a pool of blood on the bed, not crying, not moving.
"It's dead," whispered Byron.
How would they explain this to the police? No, we didn't know my wife was pregnant. No, we didn't have time to get to the hospital.
And something else. Nadine still had her legs spread wide, and she was smeared with blood, but her belly wasn't swollen anymore. She had the flat stomach of a woman who takes her workouts seriously. There was no sign that a few moments ago she was nine months pregnant with this dead baby.
There was a knock on the door.
"What?"
"Man here to see you," said Word.
"I can't see anybody right now, Word," said Byron.
The door opened and Byron moved quickly to hide his wife's naked body. But it wasn't Word in the doorway. It was Bag Man.
"You," said Byron. "You son-of-a-bitch. What have you done to my wife?"
"Got that baby out already? That was quick." He looked downright cheerful.
"I got news for you," said Byron. "The baby's dead. So whatever you're doing to us, you blew it.
It didn't work."
Bag Man just shook his head and grinned. Byron hated that grin now. This man virtually carjacked him tonight, and somehow made him like it. Well, he didn't like it now. He wanted to throw the man against the wall. Knock him down and kick his head.
Instead he watched as Bag Man shambled past him and picked up the baby. "Look at him," said Bag Man. "Ain't he as pretty as can be?"
"I told you," said Byron. "He's dead."
"Don't be silly," said Bag Man. "Baby like this, it can't die. How can it die? Ain't alive yet. Can't die less you been alive, fool."
Bag Man held the baby like a football in one arm, while he snapped open a plastic grocery bag with the other hand. Then he slipped the baby into the bag. It fit nicely, with its legs scrunched up just like it must have been in the womb. That was the first time it occurred to Byron that all those grocery bags were exactly womb-sized. He wondered if that's how they decided how big to make them.
"He'll suffocate in that bag," said Byron.
"Can't suffocate if you ain't breathing," said Bag Man cheerfully. "You kind of slow, ain't you, Byron? Anyway, nobody suffocates in my bags." He looked at Nadine's naked unconscious body and Byron hated him.
"For looking at your wife naked?"
"For putting that dead baby in her."
"I didn't do it," said Bag Man. "You think I got the power to do this? Drop dead, fool, this ain't my style." He grinned when he said it, but this time Byron refused to be placated.
"Get out of my house," said Byron.
"That's what I was planning to do," said Bag Man. "But first I got a question for you."
"Just get out."
"You want to forget this, or remember?"
"I'm never gonna forget you and what you did. If I see you in the street, I'll run you down."
"Oh, don't worry, you ain't gonna see me, not for a long time, anyway, but go ahead and run me down if you can."
"I told you to