Title: Thanksgiving Baby Part 2

Author: Susan

Email address: susgreer@webtv.net

Rating: strictly G or PG-ish for baby angst

Status: new with completed 4 parts

Archive: at my site only

Author's website: please look below under my name

Disclaimer: no, Petfly and no Sci-Fi...no money

Notes: Part 2 of this funny stuff

Warning: none

Summary: baby answers to grownup questions

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Jim looked down into the tear-sparkling eyes of the cherub. The little one was nibbling his fingernail and sucking around the knuckle.

Well, I've talked to ghosts, seen spirit animals, and I'm a throwback to pre-civilized man. Why not believe in a baby Blair spectre?

Because knowing his child-Guide instinctively, and rememering Naomi's photo album spread out for his delectation, there was no doubt at all that this...baby...was...is...once was...would be his Guide.

Jim reached across the seat before turning the key in the ignition. He lightly grazed the tight little spiral curls and let his finger tap lightly on the tiny nose.

"Blair?"

The little one looked up and grinned, showing gaps between his front teeth. He couldn't remember if Blair had ever had to have his teeth straightened.

"Little Blair, can you help me find him? Is he hurt, lost, in trouble?"

Squinching his eyes in dreadful concentration, Little Blair let out his breath in puffs. "He's...huh...he's mad at Mama."

"Naomi? Was that the phone call he received after he left the bakery?"

Little Blair violently nodded, still picking at his thumb nail, raggedly tearing the cuticle. "Mama...Mama's not comin' for Tanks Givin'. She's goin' 'way wif her ole boyfriend. I don't liken him, Jim."

The child began to sniffle, and tears soon edged out of the corners of his eyes, little fists punched against them, not damming the flow.

Jim reached over and unbuckled the Blair child, enfolded the baby into his lap, and let his chin nuzzle among the curls.

"Why don't you like him, little Blair? Did he hurt you?"

Sniff...sob...squawk. "He...huh...he's mean. He's bad. And their room...smelled funny...it was burnin' my eyes. He makens Mama sleep in his bed and won't let her get up and see me...the mon...the monsters wud come outten the closet and make the light go 'way...they wud grab me and say they wuz gonna take me far, far 'way so my mama cuddunt fin' me no more, and I wud scream 'Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Come help me!'"

Little Blair clenched his fingers in Jim's lapels and hid his face in his neck. "Come and Make Them Go Away!" he yelled into Jim's ear.

Rubbing the ghost child's back, trying to comfort, "Little one, you're safe now...with me...No one will hurt you...I'll kill all those monsters."

"Huh...huh...Carl wud ged up and come inta my room, and say, 'This nonsense will not work, Blair,' imitating a deep growling masculine voice. 'You're 4 years old. Big enough to know better. There aren't any monsters here, it's all a lie, to keep your mother away from me. You've got to end this jealousy act. She won't be coming in here tonight."

The Blair child sobbed heart-broken, into Jim's chest.


SUSAN

Celebratin' the Sentinel with a Southern twang http://www.squidge.org/sentinelsites/sindex.html