When I got out the bath and went back to the bedroom my daughter was lying face down on the bedspread. She normally liked to go through my jewellery drawers and make conversation at around that time in the evening.

 

I got dressed from the pile of clothes on the floor and told her about the halucinas I use to get, looking for the other baby. I would look for the other baby in the night! I would get out of my bed and look in all the corners of the bedroom, crying where’s the other baby? I said it was funny the first few times but then it got annoying and upsetting for everyone.

 

That’s strange you should say that, said my daughter, because I have dreams about the other baby. NO! I said. I couldn’t believe it.

 

It turned out she was meeting the other baby from time to time down by the puddle that collected at the bottom of the drive. It all made perfect sense when I though about the topography of the garden and location of the septic tank. The other baby had white curly hair and drove a red Honda. That all makes perfect sense, I said again. I really was amazed.

 

He would bite me, said my daughter. He was a very misunderstood child.

 

I decided not to ask her to deliver a message to the other baby as there was nothing to say to him.

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--Nicky Arscott, 2023