The Hawthorn Tree - Number Two
We all long for an unspoken desire - but careful what you wish for, you might just get it!
Hawthorn1. Hawthorn 3. Howthorn 4
I feel like such a bad person; I know I’m not, but that’s how I feel.
It’s not logical; it’s just emotional, I get it.
What I want… I can’t have.
Even though we’ve exhausted every option and our bank account.
…I just can’t.
I am struggling. I know it, and I see the daily concern on Kip’s face. But I’m grieving, and I feel like I don’t fit in my life anymore. Friends, my brother, and my cousins are having babies—everyone but me.
Internally, I feel like the pregnancy Grinch. Every time one of them announces their happy news, it hurts me like a tear in my heart. I hide how I feel… b I don’t want to spoil anyone’s special moment, but with every “happy event” announcement, I get pushed a little further away.
And I guess that’s why I agreed to attend Suzie’s “Whisper Your Deepest Desire” party.
She’s new to our village and is trying really hard to fit in. She’s grieving and trying to move on from her husband’s death, and I feel some sort of connection there. I understand what she’s trying to do.
When we all gathered in her front garden, she handed out the fat round little bottles, told us to whisper our heart’s desire and then cork the whisper inside. Part of me thought it was really silly and a bit… I don’t know, immature. But then, another part of me wanted to say aloud what I truly and deeply craved without fear of hurting or upsetting anyone else. If I could have screamed my desire, I would have. Instead, I found a quiet spot away from Kip and whispered my heartfelt yearning into the bauble-shaped bottle.
“I wish I could have a baby.”
After giving back my bottled desire, I felt a little bit lighter. I know it’s ridiculous, but… somehow, the honest truth now existed outside of me.
When Kip asked what I wished for, I lied and said I wanted to win the lotto. When I asked him what he’d wished for, he said, “I already have everything I want, so I wished the same for you.” I felt like shit again and forced out another false smile.
Later, after we left and wandered back home, I watched Suzie through our dining room window as she hung the bottles on the tree. She certainly had an artistic eye for placement. It seemed every bottle had a special position, which had been waiting all along for a fat round bauble to be placed.
I rolled my eyes when Mr Clarkson slunk up to Suzie and whinged a bit, driving her inside, but… that’s what he does!
Kip and I gazed at the twinkling Hawthorn tree as we ate dinner. Whenever a car drove slowly through the market square, its lights made all the little bottles glimmer and twinkle like tiny candles of hope.
“You never know,” commented Kip. “Hawthorn trees make wishes come true.” I smiled and said our chances of winning the lotto were non-existent because we didn’t buy tickets.
As I stacked the dishwasher, my mind kept wandering back to the glittering little bottles; when our front doorbell rang, honestly, I didn’t pay much attention to it until Kip marched into the kitchen.
“Pipper…” The tone in his voice surprised me back into reality. Kip was usually a calm, nothing-fazed-him type of guy, but there he stood with a look of utter shock on his face and his arms full of blankets that looked so caked in grime they seemed to have been dragged along a forest floor.
“What is it?”
With eyes wide in disbelief, he stammered, “It’s a baby!” Then turned and showed me the newborn's face.
Kip gently checked the sleeping infant’s dirty blankets for a note or any indication of why they were abandoned on our front doorstep. My mind couldn’t take it in.
“There’s nothing. Here, Pipper, you hold it while I call the police.”
A little seed of wild hope grew as I cradled the sleeping infant.
“Hello, you’ve reached Bodi Village Police Department. Can I help you?”
“Yes, hello. It’s Kip Browning from Honeysuckle Cottage, opposite Market Square. We’ve just had a baby abandoned on our doorstep.”
“Okay, Mr Browning. I can’t get anyone to you tonight. Can you keep the child?”
“Ah… I guess so… Yeah… sure. But we’re worried about the baby's mother. The baby looks like it’s just been born.”
“Don’t worry, Mr Browning, women have babies all the time. We’ll see you later.”
“But she might need medical…”
Kip turned to me in disbelief.
“What’s the matter?”
“That copper just hung up on me. Said that women have babies all the time. They don’t seem even to give a shite about the baby or its mother.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Yep!” Kip continued to look at his phone in disbelief.
“Look, love, let’s just drive the baby to the hospital. They can’t turn us away.”
We found a warm parker and a new, fresh, soft blanket to wrap the little boy in. Not once did he stir.
“He’s such an angel, Kip.” I didn’t want to say it… but it slipped out of my mouth. “If the mother doesn’t want him…” I looked at my husband’s wide brown eyes, full of longing. “Would you consider the possibility that we apply to have him?”
Kips smiled and nodded. It was all I needed. Happiness and the possibility of a dream coming true dangled just before us.
In the car, I held Bubby tightly in my arms. We were only a couple of miles from our local hospital, so I would enjoy every second of cuddles I could get.
The car’s engine groaned in an attempt to turn over.
“What’s wrong?”
Kip looked confused, “I dunno! It was only serviced last week!”
He tried again, but the car didn’t even make a sound.
“Hang on; I’ll just see if anything’s come loose.” The hood went up, and Kip went and shone his phone’s light over the engine, hoping to sort the issue out.
“Is anything obviously loose?”
He shook his head as he latched the hood down. And there, right behind him, was a tall, spindly shadow.
“Behind you. Kip. Kip look! Are you the mother? We’ve got your baby.” The baby didn’t even stir with my panicked yells.
Kip turned, his phone splashing light against the corner of our house and empty drive. “What did you see?” I could hear his concern as he called out to me.
“I… thought I saw someone standing right behind you…”
His phone’s light illuminated the front garden and pathway up to our front door. “Right… I don’t like the feeling of this. Let's go inside and see who else we can call since “the plod” is useless.”
I would have liked to say I felt safer inside, but… I didn’t. I felt like I was waiting for something to happen.
“Pipper, do you think we should just call an ambulance?” Kip looked up from his phone, ready to dial 999. “The baby’s going to need feeding pretty soon. He looks healthy enough… but look at the state of his blankets. For goodness’ sake, his umbilical cord is still attached.”
A loud knock at our front door rang out and up the passageway to our kitchen, ensuring we turned round-eyed to its echoes.
“Careful…” I know it was silly, but I wouldn’t ignore my concerns for our safety. Maybe the baby's father or family had come looking for it and wanted to have a go at us or hurt the baby.
We both walked cautiously towards our front door. “Who is it?” called out Kip.
“Och, awright, Mr 'n' Mrs Browning, it's Midwife Black. I’ve bin informed ye'v git a foundling.”
Kip’s shoulders relaxed as he opened the door and welcomed the Midwife in.
She was an older lady, comfortably padded with soft grey curls. Her face spoke of calmness and a long career of dealing with babies.
Once in the kitchen, she happily took the bubby from my arms and gently placed him on the table. Kip and I didn’t want to crowd her, so we stood together on the other side. Kip held my hand tightly.
“Right noo let me hae a look at this wee bairn.” She unwrapped the baby to its naked state and began checking his cord, reflexes and body. “Aye, he’s healthy well enough. Are ye planning oan keeping him?”
Stuttering, I tried to explain, “Well, that all depends on what the mother says and the authorities. But… if she doesn’t want to keep her baby, we’d be open to taking him… I guess.”
She nodded and smiled at me as the baby was rolled onto his stomach. “Aye, a'm sure ye would be; he's perfect in all weys. Tell me, haf ye fed him yet?"
Kip spoke up, “Ah no. We were going to take him to the hospital, but the car wouldn’t start. I can run to the Clarks down the street; they’ve got a newborn and might have some formula we could borrow.”
“Na, na... This bairn doesn't need formula; yer bonnie good wife just haes tae put him tae her breast 'n' he'll dae the rest.”
There was something about her smile which chilled me past the shock of her suggestion.
“No… the babies, not mine. It was abandoned at our door stop… I… I… I can’t feed it.” The blush stormed up from my chest to my face.
“Unfortunately, we’re unable to have children.” Kip’s hand squeezed mine, and this time, I felt the support he offered wash over me.
Nurse Black looked up, and a weird twinkle formed in her eyes. “Didnae you both wish fur a bairn?”
“Pardon?” at this point, I knew exactly what she was referring to, but I couldn’t believe my own ears.
A harsh grin blossomed on her face. “Ye both whispered yer secret desire intae they glass baubles, 'n' th' art lassie hung thaim on our Hawthorn tree. Did ye nae both wish fur a bairn o` yer own?” As she spoke, blackness bled into the nurse’s eyes, obliterating any colour or whiteness they once held.
“Oh, my God, Kip.”
“What the HELL?” Kip pushed me behind him.
Her black eyes, portals to hell, glistened under the kitchen’s lights. “A'm simply giein' ye yer wish. We’ve given ye a bairn. An now, all ye hae tae do is let him latch oan to ye breast 'n' let him drink." She smiled, showing two rows of needle-shaped teeth in stretched and distorted gums. “Le’ him suckle on ya sweet flow’n nectar lassie. Ya blood! The wee bairn wants ya blood!”
And with that, the baby’s eyes flickered open, showing the same black orbs as the nurse’s. As the baby opened his mouth and showed a small row of needled teeth, a hungry buzzing cry echoed out from his dark little soul.
A devilish grin burned across the nurse’s features, darkening and lengthening her face under its influence. “Ye kin keep th' bairn, we dinnae mind. Bit, like I say, ye wull hae tae feed him,” she sweetly rhymed, “every single hour of every single day.” Her chin grew to a point as her eyes stretched to insectoid in shape, and then her ears pointed at the tips.
“Och Pipper and Kip, be careful whit ye wish fur, ‘cause ye just might git it!” She looked down at the baby, who was now raising itself off the table to a crawl position on spindly arms and legs, its blackened umbilical cord dragging along the surface.
“Aw look he knows where his Mama is. C'moan now lassie, sit doon 'n' let him latch oan. Ye never ken you might just enjoy it!” She leered at me, giggling insanely as black ooze dribbled down her chin, “Wance ye git used ta th' pain of motherhood, that is!” Her voice changed, deepening with the glee of impending agony and violence, making both Kip and I step back in fear.
The baby took its first tentative crawling motion towards us.
“Fuck this!” Kip swung around to the dishwasher, grabbed our bread knife, and began swinging it in front of us. “Get outta my house!”
“Come now Mr Browning, ye wished yer good wife cuid hae a bairn sae she could be happy. Ye took th' bairn in 'n' ye invited me over your threshold as well! Are ye saying, after all we've done fur ye, that ye dinnae want yer wish tae come troo?” The nurse gripped the table's edge, showing dark, cruel talons on the end of her bony fingers.
I had passed through the horror and was on the other side. Grabbing the big sharp carving knife from the butcher’s block on the cupboard next to me, I yelled angrily, “Get OUT of my house, you evil twisted bitch.”
“Och, Pipper,” the nurse reached out and caressed the baby's back with one long claw, amusement dripping off every word, “we've only just started tae play with ye! Ye'r in fur a night o' fun!"
“I’m not kidding!” my knuckles turned white around the knife’s handle, the sharp point held steadily in their direction.
The Nurse looked at the demonic baby and then smiled. “Nor am I, Pipper. Nor am I!”
Black ooze now dripped from the baby’s mouth onto the table as it took another tentative crawl closer to us, softly gurgling, “Mahar, Mahar”.
Kip shoved the table hard into the nurse’s hips, sending the baby back on its back and the nurse against the Argor stove. He yelled, “RUN!” and pushed me toward the back door.
With leaden fingers, I grabbed and twisted the handle, pulling the door back as fast as I could. Kip grabbed my hand, and we bolted outside, along the back path around the side of our house.
The laundry window shattered before we made it past and to the car. Through the shards and gaping hole, the same dark and spindly shape I’d seen before climbed through the portal like a horrific four-legged spider.
Kip and I jigged on the spot for a moment. Do we run, do we turn… raced through my mind as the nurse climbed to her feet, growling, “Ye'r both sae rude 'n' selfish. Yer babies hungry 'n' wants his Mahur”
Kip rushed forward, yelling and landed a clenched punch on the nurse’s cheek. He then began to stomp and kick her as she reached up and scratched away at his jean-covered legs. One last kick to the head, and she curled into a fetal position, screaming in pain.
Shoving Kip away from the shrieking nurse, I pulled him to the car; my own petrified screams echoed around the front garden as we both clambered into our seats.
“LOCK the door, PIP.”
“Go, go, just GO!”
Kip leaned forward and pushed my door’s lock button down. When he leaned back, she was… standing in front of the car, a spindly nightmare-wrath, her clawed hands scratching at the bonnet, leering and licking her lips at us.
A part of me was surprised at how loud we could both scream as she crawled panther-like onto the bonnet.
“GO, GO, GO…” was my only logical thought.
Kip fumbled in desperation at the keys and tried the car.
The midnight devil howled her laughter at the engine’s pathetic attempt to turn over. Catching my eyes and revelling in my whimpers, she leaned down and licked a black, oozing tongue across the windscreen in front of me.
Kip hit the dashboard, yelling desperately, “Work… you bastard! WORK!”
There was no sweeter sound of the engine catching; our prayers were answered as the dash lights flickered into life and the motor roared. Kip shoved the car into gear and ploughed backwards over our front road and onto the uneven cobbles of Market Square. As he swung the car around, the hellish wrath lost her grip and slid off the bonnet, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.
“Run over it!” came shrieking out of my petrified mouth.
Kip changed gears as the demonic nurse stood, our headlights glinting off her hellish eyes. The car slammed into her, sending her light frame hurtling onto the beginning of our driveway.
The headlights shone down on her prone but breathing chest as the weight of a solution grew in my hand.
“Pipper, DON’T get out. STOP!”
There was no stopping.
There would be no stopping until…
Kip watched every swing of my arm from behind the steering wheel, frozen by my monstrous act.
As the headlights shone down, I felt almost removed from the horror. It afforded me the ability to listen to the sound of my impact upon her body change as I continued to stab her as deeply as I could with the butcher’s knife. Over and over again, both hands held tightly onto the handle. Unable to stop until I knew it would be impossible for her to be alive.
When I ran out of terror, with hands and chest covered in black sticky blood, I sat back on my haunches and cried my heart out in relief. Kip’s frantic arms wrapped themselves around me. “It’s okay, Pip; it’s dead… whatever it is… was… it’s dead now. It’s over… it’s over.”
A tiny wail turned our heads in unison.
At the end of the headlight’s reach, there was… the baby. With its needle teeth, pulled features, black insect eyes and taloned fingers. Slowly, crawling towards me, gurgling in hunger.
Kip’s embrace slipped from my shoulders as I stood and staggered towards the devil’s child.
“It’s not over… not yet.”
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All artwork is produced by the Author using Canva, and quite a lot of swear words.
Whooo that was intense!! Such horrifying monsters, I really enjoyed this!
this is so good! i love the characters!