Page 172 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
‘Four out of five times today, Mother Hale.’
‘Good!’ she said, clapping her hands together in genuine joy, before looking up at me. ‘These babies need extra calories because of all the wiggling and jiggling. When they start keeping the food down, that’s when you know you’ve turned a corner.’ Mother Hale walked me over to the last crib on the row. ‘Well, here she is,’ she said, pointing to the tiny occupant.
I stared down at the little girl who was writhing with as much force as she could muster, as if trying to break out of her swaddling. ‘I notice that the other babies have been given names. Has she got one, Clara?’
‘Of course. We call her Kindness, after what was written on the business card.’
‘Lashay mentioned that you think it’s... crack cocaine her mother was using?’
Mother Hale shrugged. ‘We’ll never know for sure. But her pupils are a little dilated and her breathing rate is particularly sharp. It tallies. There’s a lot of it going on around here I’m sorry to say. When was this one last fed, Hilary?’
‘About two hours ago now, Mother Hale.’
‘Perfect timing.’ She walked over to a wooden cupboardin the corner of the room and pulled out a few sachets of powder before mixing them together in a fresh bottle. She handed it to me. ‘There you go.’
‘You’d like me to feed her?’
Clara nodded. ‘That would be most helpful.’
I placed the bottle in the crib, and went to pick the baby up. When I touched her, she began to scream ferociously and, considering she was a newborn, wriggled around with the force of one much older. ‘It’s okay. Shh, shh, little girl.’ Instinctively I began to rock her back and forth, as I had done with my other children. ‘Would you mind passing me the formula?’ I asked Clara. She handed it to me, and I gently guided the bottle into the baby’s mouth. I was shocked at how forcefully she began to suck, as if she was starved and desperate for nourishment.
‘Well, you weren’t lying,’ Clara said. ‘You’ve done that before.’
‘You doubted my story?’
‘No. I just didn’t know if you’d be any good with the babies themselves. But you have the touch.’ She tapped her nose.
Kindness, as she was currently known, was visually striking. Her stunning yellow-gold eyes and ebony skin would fool the casual observer into thinking she was completely healthy. ‘I know that she’s going through this awful period, Clara. But she feels so full of life.’
Clara nodded. ‘Yep. Hil said something similar. What was it, Hil?’
‘She’s full of electricity, that one.’ Hilary chuckled, before turning her attention back to another baby.
‘That’s very well put,’ I replied.
Within minutes, the bottle was drained, and I handed it back to Clara. ‘So. Back to my earlier question,’ she said. ‘What next?’
Cecily had writtenkind manon my old business card. I knew I could not betray that moniker. ‘I can fly her home this evening,’ I confirmed.
Mother Hale’s mouth dropped open, and her nose wrinkled once again, so I knew what was coming. She laughed heartily, nearly doubling over this time. ‘You’ll do no such damn thing, Atlas Tanit! Have you not listened to a word I’ve been saying?’
I was mortified. ‘I’m so sorry, Clara. I thought you were implying that you wanted me to take her.’
‘I do, I do! But fly her home his evening? Are you out of your damn mind? Did you hear him, Hil? Cynthia?’ The other two ladies in the room began to laugh along with Clara, and my cheeks flushed a hot red. ‘Firstly, I don’t care if you’ve done this five times before, I need to perform the requisite background checks on you and your family, to make sure that Kindness will be moved to a loving home.’
I looked down at the floor, well and truly admonished. ‘Of course.’
‘Plus.’ Clara paused. ‘I hate to highlight the obvious, but this little girl would be growing up with five white sisters. I don’t want her to feel alienated by that in any way.’
‘Gosh, no. But to be factually accurate, only four of my children are white. I told you about Celaeno – CeCe – my daughter from Australia?’
Clara eyed me. ‘You did.’
‘Her father was indigenous to Australia, and her mother was mixed race. She isn’t white.’
Mother Hale paused to reflect for a moment. ‘Huh. A lot of folks, even if they adopt, choose children with the same skin colour. But it doesn’t matter to you?’
‘Not one bit, no,’ I stated honestly.
