Unsung Requiem by C.L. Stone

Sotto Voce

(In an undertone)

Sang

Outside of leaving the Taylor compound, I had no idea where we were going when we left. I wasn’t sure I should ask. I thought I’d check my phone if it took much longer and have the map show me where I was.

The neighborhood we arrived in was a single cul-de-sac off a road with an empty field on either side before there were more single homes on larger lots of land. The cul-de-sac had small homes sitting close to each other. Single-story modest homes. Some had chain-link fences. Some of the lawns had bicycles and toys. Few cars were in the drives. Some homes had a single-car garage in the back or a carport alongside the house.

It wasn’t until Mr. Buble parked in front of a particularly small house at the end of the lane that he spoke. “This is it.”

I swallowed, nervous. It was the middle of the day, and there was a car parked in the drive, a small, blue four-door Accord. While there was a carport, it had collections of bins, a lawn mower, and a few toys underneath which blocked access to parking inside. The thin porch at the front of the house had just enough room for the baby stroller to sit next to the front door. The lawn had a short white picket fence, easy enough to walk over if one wanted.

Mr. Buble turned off the car engine, examining the front of the house. “Mrs. Ruiz will give you more instructions.”

“Who?” I asked.

“You don’t know her, but she’s one of us,” he said. He took on a lecturing tone as he continued. “Mrs. Ruiz is what’s known as ‘on leave’ for the sake of what we do. Generally, when you start a family, you take that status. However, she’s needed for a couple of hours.”

“You want me to… join her?” I asked, unsure.

He shook his head. “Actually, we need you to stay here. Her children are young. They need care and her husband is two states away. Their normal babysitter is at work himself right now. Conveniently this should only take a couple hours so you’ll have plenty of time to get back to your plans.”

Oh. I blinked up at the house, suddenly realizing this was a small task but also a complicated one. “I’ve never… done this before.”

“It won’t be difficult. The favor granted here will be quick. It’s a good way to learn the process in a short amount of time. I know the others wanted to join you, but it would have devalued the favor and would have been a waste of time when only one person is needed. This type of task isn’t always available.” He opened his door. “Won’t you join me? I’ll go in with you to make introductions.”

Was it lucky to get this job? It seemed an odd choice for my first Academy job on my own. I followed him away from the car and along a paved path to the front porch. The home was quaint, with flower boxes in the windows and a Welcome mat that had a pineapple in the background. There was a pineapple doorknocker as well.

Mr. Buble sent a text while we waited quietly on the porch instead of using the knocker.

As we waited, I tried not to think about what was happening. I’d never watched over kids, so I had no idea what to do. At Academy camp and prior to that at a football game at Thanksgiving were the few times I’d interacted with anyone younger than myself and there were always parents or other team members around. Could I handle this alone? I tried to summon up all the books or television shows that had scenes depicting people babysitting but in my current state, I was having trouble coming up with what to do.

The door opened slowly, and a woman’s head appeared, although angled away from the door. “Thanks for texting,” she said. “I just got him to sleep. Annie’s down for a nap, too.”

She scooted away, and it wasn’t until Mr. Buble and I got inside the door that I realized she had a baby in one arm, sleeping. I wasn’t aware how young the child was exactly, maybe a few months, not yet a year at least. Mrs. Johnson moved quietly, and as such, I tried to lighten my footsteps.

The entry opened immediately to a living room with a couch facing the front picture window, curtains drawn. There was a fireplace to the left and a mirror above that, and a hallway straight across the room from the front door.

Mrs. Ruiz backed up toward the middle of the living room and stopped just short of the coffee table behind her. She wore a long floral skirt and a cotton blouse, and her curly dark hair was tucked up in a bun, though a few strands framed her face. She focused on me. “Hello,” she whispered. “He mentioned this was your first time babysitting?”

I nodded quickly, trying not to grimace. The phone I carried in my hands buzzed quickly once, a message coming in, but I ignored it to focus.

“You have friends on either side,” she said motioning in the general direction outside, and I thought she meant the neighbors. “They work the night shift usually and might be sleeping now, but they are around if there’s an emergency.”

“I’ve every confidence she’ll do fine,” Mr. Buble said.

I knew he meant to give me more self-confidence in this, but seeing the baby that was small and unable to at least get around on its own made me feel like it was such a monumental task.

“I’ll put baby down,” Mrs. Ruiz said to me. “Come see.”

I followed quietly on her heels. She took a right in the hallway, where there was a set of doors mirroring each other. Inside the right one was a queen bed with dark wood foot and headboards, and a wide, dark wood dresser with a large mirror on top facing the bed. In the corner near a big window on the far side was an odd-looking bassinet shaped almost like an oblong hoop.

I hovered by the door while Mrs. Ruiz put the baby down in the bassinet, wrapping him snugly in a blanket. The baby’s small eyes opened just a little.

I worried the baby would want to stretch or move around. Was that how babies sleep?

Mrs. Ruiz activated something on the side of the bassinet, and it started to move, gently, from side to side. She turned, motioned to me, and we tiptoed back out into the hallway together.

She handed me a small monitor, and there was a picture of the baby being rocked continually in the bassinet.

“Just keep this with you, and as long as little Conner is being quiet, he can stay. If he gets fussy…” She motioned for me to follow.

We passed the front living room to the other side of the hall, where it opened to a small vintage kitchen with yellow tiles and a tiny table in the middle. I followed her through an archway on the other side.

In the back was a rear den room. This room had much larger windows, a couple of doors on either side and a back door with a big window showing off a rear porch and fenced yard.

The room also had a couch and padded ottoman for a coffee table. There was a collection of toys scattered across the floor, trailing from a shelf with bins. There was a baby bouncing chair, and a large entertainment unit opposite the couch, the television currently off.

She showed me a particular baby chair that was surrounded with play toys within arm’s reach. “Conner loves this one,” she said. “If he wakes up, he might be hungry, but place him here. There’s bottles in the fridge ready to go and instructions taped to the front.”

I held a breath and nodded, trying to look more confident than I appeared. It seemed simple… but didn’t you have to warm bottles for babies? I thought I remembered that from a book or something.

She smiled gently. “Annie is four and knows where to find snacks if she’s hungry when she wakes up. It’s more likely she’ll wake first. I’ll possibly be back before the baby wakes.”

“Okay,” I said.

“There’s plenty to eat in the fridge,” she said. “Help yourself to the TV as well.” She headed to the kitchen again.

I followed her back to where Mr. Buble was waiting by the front door.

“I think we’re ready,” Mrs. Ruiz said.

Mr. Buble nodded and opened the door, holding it for her.

She turned to give me one more confident smile. “I shouldn’t be too long. You have your phone?”

I nodded, showing it to her in my hands as I juggled the baby monitor as well.

“I’ll have Mr. Buble send my number in case you have any questions.”

Mr. Buble coughed shortly once. “Yes, well, try not to call for a few hours.”

A few hours… but she said she shouldn’t be long. I wondered which would be the case.

Whatever it was, her task seemed dangerous enough I shouldn’t call her unless there really was a good reason. After having been involved in a few Academy jobs already, I could imagine unless it was an absolute emergency, calling her with simple questions was probably not ideal.

They left, closing the door. I went to the front picture window in the living room, spreading the curtain open with just the tip of my finger, enough to watch Mr. Buble hold the passenger door open to his own car. They were leaving together. Within minutes, the car pulled out of the driveway and down the road.

I remained by the window, checking out the neighborhood. In the stillness, while little kids slept in the house, I took shallow breaths. The smell of newness filled my nose, a light lemon fragrance, acid from cleaners, slight neutral AC air. The baby monitor showed the little one, eyes closed, the bassinet moving side to side. Not a noise in the house.

Alone. With children I’d never met before. In a neighborhood somewhere a good distance from the guys.

This was what I had to do from now on. This was what the Academy would be like. Sometimes torn at unexpected moments from your team, the people you wanted to be around. They did it for the good of people around them, and sometimes you didn’t know why. Mrs. Ruiz could be going to save someone maybe, and she just needed someone to stand by to watch her children as they took a nap.

The vibration in my hands of my phone pressed against the monitor sounded odd, with the hard cases of each trembling loud in the quiet of the living room. I nearly dropped both, but caught them, separating them and checking the phone screen.

A message from Mr. Buble with Mrs. Ruiz’s phone number.

There were more messages, from the guys. Luke was letting me know he wasn’t sick. Dr. Green sent a flower emoji. He probably was at work at the hospital still, but when he got a moment, he sent either a selfie or emoji and I often sent one back.

Victor was checking in, asking how I was doing.

I didn’t want to tell him the truth. That I was nervous. These were kids, little human beings. If something happened… well anything could possibly happen. What if I did something wrong?

Should I worry him?

I replied.

Sang: I think I’m okay. He just has me babysitting for a few hours. I should be on time for your birthday party.

I waited a second, hoping he’d get back to me. When it was clear he wouldn’t for a moment, I then sent along:

Sang: How are you doing?

Again, I waited. No reply.

I hoped he was okay.