The Baby

“Aw she’s adorable!” Came the chorus. The aisle between the cubicles was crowded with admirers.

The mother, flushed with a healthy glow, looked at the baby cradled in her arms.

I smiled tensely, nodding along with the cooing. I looked at the baby. The baby’s watery blue eyes were pointed at the ceiling.

A tiny foot stuck out from the blanket, translucent skin revealing a web of intricate red veins just beneath the surface . The foot looked like it would be hot to the touch.

In fact the entire baby was flushed red with heat. It seemed to be steaming. Its mom fanned it with the edge of its blanket. “Why are you so warm, baby?” She asked.

Seemingly in response, the baby began to make a harsh wailing sound. Although its mouth opened and the skin on its face crinkled into folds, its eyes stayed open at the same width, vacantly fixed on the ceiling.

Its mother rocked it and made calming sounds but the wail continued.

The baby appeared to grow even redder and hotter. The cooing coworkers became nervous, unsure of the office ettiquette for handling this level of noise and redness. The only part of the baby that was not now red was just above its eyes, where a fleshy crest rose between its nonexistent eyebrows and its nonexistent hairline. The crest reminded me of something I’d seen on a picture of a dinosaur called an Edmontosauraus. I wondered what it was filled with–maybe cartilage? Or maybe it was just a lump of fat that got pushed into the wrong place as the baby was being squeezed out into the world.

“Do you want to hold her, Amina?”

“No,” I answered–realizing immediately that I had responded too quickly and firmly.