ribs, and collapsed lung I’d suffered during our final showdown with the Tor-al-Degan on our last mission, I couldn’t wait to fly to Evie’s and help out after the birth of her daughter, E.J. It should’ve been fun. The new parents were like kids at Christmas when I talked to them the day E.J. was born. But when I arrived she was five days old. They hadn’t slept more than four hours a night total, and she’d been howling like a coyote pretty much ever since they’d brought her home.
“Colic,” the pediatrician had said at her first checkup, when Evie asked frantically why E.J. cried so much. “She’ll outgrow it,” he told us absently, as I struggled not to charge him and shake him until his stethoscope fell off and, if there was a God, whacked him right in the cojones. I’m sure Tim would’ve done the same, but he’d taken his chance to catch forty winks in the rocking chair in the corner of the room.
That was the day I discovered a new way to vent my frustrations.
After driving the exhausted family home and leaving Evie to tuck Tim into bed and then watch E.J. go another round in the living room with her swing, I grabbed a six-pack of Pepsi and retreated to the backyard.
It had snowed the night before, covering the frozen ground with a fine white powder that sparkled with vivid, spirit-boosting colors. Tim’s maul leaned against the redwood deck where he’d left it after splitting some logs. I straightened the handle and twirled it absently. Then I got an idea.
“You know what?” I murmured, releasing a can from the pack and setting it on the ground. “This could be a good thing.” I took a moment to measure the distance, swung the maul high over my head, and brought it down hard. The can crushed with a lovely, metallic
Eventually I introduced my little sanity saver to Evie and Tim. But I didn’t think Chinese Mom would have need for it. Not with such a cooperative boy in hand. She finally got tired and grounded her little astronaut, tucking him into a sit-and-stroll contraption whose wheels she seemed to have locked. With his own personal joyride closing without warning, and his new one temporarily on blocks, I expected him to throw a massive tantrum. But he just grinned, his four teeth twinkling like little pearls in the dying light. I caught his mom’s eye as she gave him a handful of hot dog wedges and a sippy cup full of milk.
“He’s adorable,” I said, smiling.
She smiled back. “Thank you.” From her accent I suspected she didn’t know a heck of a lot of English. Still, I had to ask. “Is he always this happy?”
She nodded proudly. “He only cry when he hungry or tired.”
“Wow, that’s great. So, you’re with the acrobat troupe?”
“Yes, my husband and I both perform. But I am having slight injury”—she pointed to her ankle, which was wrapped and taped in the classic “badly sprained” style—“so I sitting out this week.”
Suddenly Cole lunged forward, startling us both. “Something’s wrong with the baby,” he explained as he knelt in front of the new-age walker, his face very close to the boy’s. “He’s not getting any air.”
Chinese Mom and I exchanged horrified looks as we both realized the baby’s lips had begun to turn blue.
Cole tried to clear his throat. “It’s not coming out.” He pulled the boy out of his seat and laid him on his back. Then, gently but firmly, he performed the Heimlich maneuver on him, using just two fingers from each hand to force air out his lungs and back up his throat. After four fruitless tries it worked. The baby spit out a chunk of hot dog that looked big enough to choke an elephant.
He took a deep breath. Looked at his mother in surprise. And burst into tears. That worked for her. Within seconds she was crying too, holding out her arms so Cole could transfer him for some dual boohooing and a comforting rock while we watched.
“Should we leave?” Cole finally asked.
“I’m not really sure about Heimlich etiquette,” I replied. “But it is getting kind of late.” I patted Chinese Mom on the arm. “We’re so glad he’s okay,” I said. “You’re okay too, right?” She nodded. “Great. Well, we have to go.”
“Oh, no, but I must thank you properly! And my husband! He will want to thank you also!” She looked so horrified at the thought of us leaving that Cole quickly reassured her.
“We’re not leaving for good. We’re performers too. Tell you what, why don’t you come by our tent tomorrow? We’ll give you tickets to our show and we’ll have a chance to meet your husband then.”
“Oh, yes, that will be fine. And then you will come to our show as well. Yes?”
“Of course,” Cole agreed, before I could throw an elbow to remind him we’d come to kill a vampire, not make friends with his employees. We all smiled and bobbed our heads at each other. Then Cole and I said our goodbyes to Flying Baby, who’d already dried his tears and moved on to more interesting diversions, like trying to snag his mom’s earrings while she thanked us about three dozen more times.
As we moved on I said, “Wow. I think you get gold stars in heaven for stuff like that.”
Cole shrugged. “I dated a nurse for a while. And an EMT.” When I glanced at him he gave me a wink. “I went through this whole women-in-uniform phase.”
“Which is my cue to change the subject. That kid is amazing. Don’t tell my sister some babies hardly ever cry. As freaked as she is about motherhood right now she’ll probably leap to some bizarre conclusion about the colic being her fault, and next thing you know she’ll be in a convent somewhere, reciting her sins into some poor priest’s ear between her hourly lashings.”
“I didn’t know you were Catholic.”
“We’re not.”
It didn’t take long to cruise the rest of the site. Past the Chinese acrobats’ building, a cheap orange fence manned by two security guards cordoned off the northwest border. The guards, big-bellied men with self-important attitudes, stood with their backs to the building and the scattering of booths here at the end of the path, watching a group of nine picketers who’d commandeered the last twenty-five yards of a narrow access road for their demonstration.
Four women and five men circled a group of kids who sat in lawn chairs, pretending to be homeschooled when, in fact, they were carefully studying the festival setup. I picked out two teenage boys in particular who could
