A baby is born

 

When my umbilical cord was cut

It rained pocket thesauruses in the

maternity ward hallways.

Fortunately they were paperback editions.

My father, curious about the sound, stepped into the hallway and was pelted by 3 different editions. Opening them, he discovered that the even number pages were all removed in jagged tears.

In that exact moment, an announcement was made:

“I birth the body electric!”

It was a voice that no one had ever heard before, a voice of spring and birdsong and Parliament Light Cigarettes.

Then, the noise of “Hey, lady, how did you get in here?” Followed by a sound of objects falling and static.

The nurse, a woman with wild eyes and long grey hair pointing at eccentric angles, was comforting my mother, who was holding me for the first time. “Must be a Tuesday.” She said.

My mother nodded though she didn’t understand what the nurse meant. My mother was, however, a little distracted.

My father stepped into the room. He was intent and paging through the thesauruses he pilfered from the hallway storm. “Did you know a synonym for arrange is array? I wish I knew more but then next page is ripped out.”

The nurse shrugged. “Last time it rained here, it was feral cats.”

“Well, at least this one helps us learn.” My father said, laughing.

“We all learned a lot that day.” The nurse’s eyes narrowed, her voice cold. Her arms pulled close across her torso, maybe in an act of self-love.

The room frosted over with the dull breeze of silence.

The thesaurus storm ended in the hallway. The sound of the janitor sweeping and cursing burst into the otherwise quiet room.

My parents checked to make sure I did not have a tail.

My brother was born in another hospital.