Paranoia or Premonition?

Simone

It was spring, and the heat was already sweltering. It was the type of heat that not even the shortest shorts and coldest ice cream could combat. I frantically waved a persistent mosquito away as I propped my bare feet on a folding lawn chair beside me.

The sun was setting, and I took a moment to enjoy the enticing sunset with my daughter. It was just the two of us enjoying the heat, as it was meant to be.

Nori sat on a musical playmat in front of me, holding a pufferfish water toy that squirted water when squeezed. Her chubby hands motioned the toy to her mouth. I pushed them down gently and stroked her black hair. I didn’t know anything about the other half of her—her mother’s side—but all I could see was her father when I looked at her. She looked up at me and grinned, putting her beaver teeth on full display. I smiled back and kissed her head as her hands flapped in excitement.

“It was a beautiful day, Nori. Not as beautiful as you, of course, but a close second,” I said, picking her up from the mat. She squirmed excitedly in my arms and patted my face with her cool hands. She giggled, and I wondered if she understood me sometimes. Some suggested that babies her age only understood tone; others would say they knew exactly what you were saying. I wasn’t sure about anyone else's baby, but mine hung on every word. I could tell from the way she looked into my eyes.

“Wanna dance?” I asked, preemptively turning on our little boombox we picked up from a thrift store to an R&B station. I smiled widely when she cheered and clapped in my arms when “I’m Goin’ Down” by Mary J. Blige played harmoniously from the speaker. The song was just right for dancing as the sun went down and the temperature cooled. I spun us around with her hand in mine as she laughed gleefully. I admired her. She lived from moment to moment without a care in the world. She didn’t care that it might’ve been a little tacky to dance on the stoop of our apartment as her mother horribly butchered the song. She only cared that it was me that she laughed and danced with. I felt the same—never wanting the moment to end.

It wasn’t long before the day, and the ravenous mosquitoes caught up with us.

“Okay, baby. I think it’s time for us to go inside,” I said, setting her on her feet. I took her hand and led her into our humble abode. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was all I could afford on my measly salary of $17.00 an hour working at a call center. None of that mattered. It was ours and served us well.

I started to shut the door behind us and paused as a chill seeped into my skin. I had no idea what caused the rolling sensation in my stomach. I peered out the door through narrowed eyes, attempting to determine where the feeling came from. I had an unnerving sense that we were being watched.

I slammed the door quickly and secured it with the deadbolt and chain. I grabbed Nori and checked the back door. She protested, but I didn’t have time to stop and soothe her. Something felt…off.

The skin on my arms pebbled. A hand touched me, making me jump. I sighed a breath of relief when I realized Nori was the source.

“Mama.”

I smiled and reassured her. “It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m just paranoid,” I expressed as I set her in her playpen. I rounded the small apartment to check the windows. “This isn’t a bad neighborhood. Yeah, it has its issues occasionally, but you’re more likely to have your car broken into than be murdered, you know?” I rambled. I glanced back, and Nori was perfectly content eating her hands, giving me her blessing to continue to revel in my paranoia. “I don’t think anyone is watching us. Who could possibly be watching us? There are no convicted child molesters in the neighborhood. Believe me. I check monthly.” I frowned to myself.

That’s just convicted. What about the ones you don’t know about?

My stomach unsettled even more. Having a child made you fearful of the world. It wasn’t until you had a child that you fully understood the horrors that lay out there.

“Mama!”

I smiled and tucked away my fears. Nori only knew a few words, but Mama was at the top of the list. She made other little sounds, but they weren’t quite words, at least not words I could decipher.

I scooped her out of the playpen. “You’re not worried, are you? Of course, not because you’re a baby.”

I paused and pressed my nose against her head, inhaling her calming scent. I looked into her eyes, those misty pools of trust, and sighed.

They’re getting lighter.

“Do you have to look so much like him?” I murmured. She cocked her head in question, unsure who him was. I shook my head. “Never mind, you don’t know him. Good riddance to bad rubbish, right?” Nori squealed. I suspected the word ‘rubbish’ tickled her. “That’s a funny word, huh? Rubbish.” She giggled harder.

I swept her into the bathroom, and her giggles died into a deep yawn as we neared her bedtime.

“Are you gonna bite me when I try to brush your teeth?” I inquired. She stared at me somewhat blankly. I nodded. “I figured as much. Let’s get this over with.”

I sat her on the bathroom floor and handed her my phone as I got her water going. Ironically, she couldn’t speak, but somehow, she navigated to the same song repeatedly. I hummed along to the soulful track as I added her strawberry bubble bath.

“I think we should stay in tomorrow. I can take some time off. I can put those big bows in your hair that you conveniently lose, and we can go to the park later. What do you think?” I was met with silence. I turned around and picked her up, collecting my phone from her hands. Before she could cry, I stripped her and put her in the pink plastic baby tub. The water settled and then excited her while she splashed happily. I let her tucker out until the bubbly tub’s warmth faded.

***

The sound of rain caught my attention as I lotioned my little diva for bed. It was strange because there wasn’t a cloud in sight earlier. Nori stared at me with hooded eyes as I slipped her arms and legs into a yellow and white striped onesie.  She was out before her little body hit the mattress. I eased the sheer white canopy around her crib closed and left her nursery to perform my evening motherly duties.

First, secure the house.

I padded toward the door and double-checked the locks.

You’re tripping. You triple-locked the house earlier. Get it together, Simone.

As I was about to walk away, someone rapped their fist against the door. My heart seized in my chest as the persistent knocking continued. Against my better judgment, I undid the locks and opened the door to find a familiar shock of wet black hair.

We stared at each other as the rain poured behind him. There was so much to say, yet we remained silent. I had expected him to yell and demand that I hand my baby over, but that never happened. He finally spoke after a minute of deafening silence.

“Terrible weather we’re having.”