"Rock-a-Bye" by Wendy York
Rock-a-Bye
by Wendy York
How many have there been? Dozens now? How many more babies will she need to complete her collection? How long until someone notices people are going missing? Daniel’s clammy palm reaches for the phone once again. It doesn’t matter. I owe this to her.
cree-aahk…………cree-aahk
The sound echoes through the ceiling. Her rocking chair has become her voice, pleading with him to provide the one thing she wants most. It’s a constant reminder that he has failed his wife. She’s restless up there in the attic when her arms are empty. The tone of her rocking tells him when it’s time to make yet another call.
cree-aahk……cree-aahk
He’s barely able to steady the phone in his hand as he speaks. “Look. I understand you’re busy but this is an emergency. Please. I’m desperate.” Regret is churning in Daniel’s gut. “It cannot wait. I will pay any extra fees required. I just need you to send someone to my house tonight!”
Done. Poor Mark from Tip Top Roofing will arrive this evening to investigate a non-existent water leak in the attic. A lie that has worked so many times before.
cree-aahk….cree-aahk
This isn’t how it was supposed to be. They were once the perfect couple. Friends lovingly joked on their wedding day that their obsession with each other was nauseating.
Three years of staring at one lonely line on a stick when they so desperately wanted to see two. Those poisonous little sticks mocking them month after month until their marriage was retching and foaming at the mouth. Instead of a baby in her belly, something greedy took root in her womb. Brittle and reaching. It filled her insides where tiny fingers and toes should have been tickling. It changed her.
cree-aahk….cree-aahk
Last year, finally admitting defeat, Daniel emptied the nursery and moved his wife’s grandmother’s old wooden rocking chair into the attic. She, unrecognizable by that point, followed him into her new lair and has not left since.
cree-aahk...cree-aahk.
Daniel has an unwanted flashback while he waits for the roofer to arrive. The memory of her first baby. A youthful kid named Samuel working his first job in pest control. Daniel innocently hired him to ensure that she had a safe space free of rodents to grieve unfulfilled dreams of motherhood. Full of rookie eagerness, Samuel entered the attic while Daniel finished cooking dinner. What Daniel saw when he went to check on Samuel’s progress still haunts his nightmares.
A knock at the door snaps him back to a bleak reality. It’s Mark. His wife knows it too because the rocking overhead speeds up. Frantic.
crree-aahhk..cree-aahk cree-aahk..cree-aahk cree-aahk..cree-aahk
She’s excited.
“Come in! I’ll show you to the attic. It’s just down this back hallway.” Daniel practically jogs in a pathetic attempt to distract the roofer from his wife’s noisy angst heard above.
cree-aahk cree-aahk. cree-aahk cree-aahk. cree-aahk cree-aahk.
Mark follows close behind. “That sounds like it’s coming from your attic. What is that? I don’t do animals, just a heads up.”
Daniel just needs to get Mark through the attic door as quickly as possible. Once he crosses the threshold, Daniel can lock him in from the outside and let his wife sort out the rest.
They climb the stairs and, after a few steps, Daniel motions for Mark to lead the way. Relief! As if on cue, she goes quiet. Daniel is certain she’s swaddling the last one and adding it to her collection. Preparing for the arrival of her next baby.
Almost there…Mark is reaching for the door handle.
Don’t open the attic door! She’s waiting for you! A warning for the roofer that claws and scrapes at Daniel’s throat. It’s quickly hushed by his need to atone for the life that his dysfunction has robbed her of.
Mark steps into the darkness and is caught off guard by the desperate slam of the door behind him, immediately followed by a deadbolt clicking into place. Panic sets in as his fingertips frantically search the wall for a light switch.
“What the hell?! Hey!” Mark screams as the useless dim bulb lights up on the opposite side of the attic.
He turns and throws his entire weight against the door. His breath comes in quick shallow bursts. Even with blood roaring in his ears, the noise he hears is unmistakable. A sandpaper version of a woman’s voice humming Rock-a-bye Baby.
Fuck me. Does this sicko have a woman up here? Mark thinks.
“Hello? Ma’am?
Cautiously, Mark begins to make his way across the barely lit room. As he approaches the center, he sees 20 or so small bundles lined up along the wall. Gravitating towards them, he calls out again, “Hello? Are you hurt?"
He squats and tugs the corner of one of the blankets. As it unrolls, the horror inside is slowly revealed. Mark is instantly lightheaded. Bile forces its way up. He’s looking at a miniature doll-sized replica of a young man in a pest control uniform. His shirt has the name Sam embroidered on the chest. But this is no plastic doll. This thing is moving. Mark watches it wiggle its legs exactly like his daughter did when she was a newborn. The baby man’s eyes show pure terror and pleading. HELP ME!
Shock causes Mark’s body to quake and he falls onto his back. His vision is warped but the last thing he sees before everything fades is the sunken ghastly face of a woman just inches from his own.
When Mark wakes, he’s unable to speak or lift his head. Something is very wrong. The attic has quadrupled in size. So has the hideous woman. He is laying in her arms staring up at her.
“Shshsh… Mommy’s got you. Now you’re mine.” She gargles as she rocks her newborn baby to death.