It’s Your Turn

Photo by Markus Spiske on

Halloween Morning



” Baby needs to be fed.” he slurred into his pillow and Reggie Hull, never to be given a Father of The Year Award plaque  or Greatest Husband Ever Emoji on his Facebook Wall  went straight back to sleep.

Next to him,  Lindsey’s eyes opened, slowly one at a time and they eventually focused on the baby monitor on the dresser on the wall opposite the foot of their bed. She grit her teeth and knew she hated her life more in that second then in all the seconds that came before it and that was a Hell of a lot.

Reggie had said once when they were arguing about their situation , that the baby had voracious mindless appetite-just like it’s Mother and thanks to her their entire life would be devoted to that one task.

Lindsey had no reply to that because she knew it was true.


” I think it’s your turn Reg. ” she whispered.

” I don’t think it is. I’m pretty sure it’s your turn. I’ve done more than you so far.”

” Are you actually keeping track?” she hissed.

Reg hissed back because the last thing he wanted was for that kid to cry louder because  the monitor at the foot of their bed  was dancing and skittering around  with the force of the sound coming out of it,  ” Like you’re not.”

” Look one of us has to go be-”

The wail got a little louder and worse, there were no breaks in the cry. It was steady and insistent. We were at the ” I’m going to be firm but polite ” phase of this particular conversation.

Lindsey sat up and fought the urge to throw her pillow at the monitor- or to jump up and push th pillow down on Reggie’s face until his lungs deflated.  That’d teach him to drop his end.

” Why is it my turn? Because I’m a woman, right? I should just jump up and run out of her because that’s what we do when we hear a crying baby that needs to be fed at three in the morning. Well guess what Reg. I’m not that kind of woman.”

” We’re in this mess because of you.” Reg sat up and he did throw his pillow at the monitor. ” You wanted the life.  The house in the suburbs, the cars, the clothes the vacations, the Yoga classes.  Well, guess what it all came with a cost. You know that.”

Lindsey turned her face to the wall. ” So did you. ”


Lindsey wasn’t going to budge, but that’s not why Reggie got out of bed to feed the baby, to owe up to his responsibility. He got out of bed because at that moment he really hated his wife and if he stayed in bed next to her- well.

Like I said.

Reggie was never going to find a husband of the year emoji on his Facebook wall, ever.


The baby wasn’t just crying, the baby was in full Opera mode and he was angry- his little cries pierced Reggie’s eardrums and made his teeth hurt.

Reggie pushed the door open and there was the baby, waiting to be fed.


He or maybe it was a she, Reggie didn’t know, he didn’t care because the deal was they didn’t have do much except drop a few tidbits to it until  it was time for them both  to feed it.

The screaming baby was in the arms of his Mother- and she was just as vicious looking as the day he and Lindsey made a deal with her at the Crossroads six years ago on Halloween. Her skin was still pale green skin,  her  eyes were still dull and milky blue, her tongue still darted out from between her thin black lips like a snake and danced around the corners of her mouth with a mind of it’s own,

The world was theirs as was anything in it that they wanted and all they would have to do was Feed The Baby. Both of them. She’d let them decide who would feed it first. Until that day, she suggested a shovel, a crow bar, a saw and a cemetery with poor lighting would provide small sweet meals for the child, but the time would come when it would be  time for them both  to feed the baby.

The Baby and it’s Mother turned and looked at him.

She licked her lips and the baby held out it’s arms.

The door slammed shut behind him.


Photo by Lisa Fotios on

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