SO MUCH NOISE

 J.A. McGrady

 Julia was trying to get dinner ready but she couldn’t peel the potatoes because the baby was crying. Her husband, Ned, was upstairs in the shower so she had to stand in the kitchen with the baby in her arms, swaying from one hip to the other, humming the refrain of an already forgotten hymn.

“There, there,” she sang, wiping his cheek, but he only cried louder, a piercing sound that started deep in his lungs and radiated throughout the house.

“Ned,” she yelled, hearing the faucet turn. “Ned, get down here right now.”

“What’s the matter?” he said though the closed door.

“The baby’s crying.”

“That’s all?” Ned said. Then Julia heard the creaking of the door, the thud-thud of his footsteps on the hardwood. “Jesus,” he said from the top of the landing. “How can someone so small make so much Goddamn noise?”

“Watch your mouth,” Julia said, moving into the living room so she could face her husband, rather than the peeling yellow walls of their condominium. The baby let out a wail. “See,” she said, “you’re making it worse. Now go put some clothes on so you can come down and help me.”

Ned sulked back to the bathroom. He wasn’t a natural with the baby, and Julia often found their son with his diaper on backwards or his onesie sodden with spit up after leaving him in Ned’s care. When Ned held him, he looked more like he was juggling a ten-pound flour sack than cradling an infant. Not that Julia expected any better. She considered herself lucky that he didn’t run out on her after she told him she was pregnant that night at the diner. They were only 20 then, but Ned “did the right thing” as Julia’s grandmother would say. He asked Julia to marry him a month later.

Now the baby was one month old and Julia hadn’t slept in weeks. It wasn’t so much the crying — in fact, the baby seemed to be calmer than most — but the constant feeling that she was suffocating. At night, she would lie awake watching her son’s belly rise and fall, listening to the small sucking sounds of his breath against the silence, wishing that, somehow, there would be enough air left for her. During the day, after she put him down for a nap, she could feel the blue walls of his nursery caving in on her until she could barely move from the rocking chair.

A part of her felt sorry for the baby; a part of her understood why he was crying with so much force. She too had cried for months, since the pregnancy test, since Ned proposed, since she had to leave school with just an associate’s degree and take a job as an assistant art teacher. She had once dreamed of studying psychology and being an art therapist, but now that would never happen. Just like Ned would never finish engineering school, resigned to construction work instead.

Julia looked down at her son and a part of her could see past his tears; the other part simply felt terrified. She thought of all the things that could possibly be wrong. He had just eaten and had a diaper change, and it was nowhere near his bedtime. As Ned barreled down the stairs, fully clothed this time, she had never felt so relieved to get the baby out of her arms.

“What the heck did you do to him?” Ned said, awkwardly taking the baby from her.

“What did I do to him?” Julia said. “I don’t know, only woke up at the crack of dawn to feed him, then changed him, fed him again, walked with him around the block, put him down for a nap, fed him and changed him again… Shall I go on?”

“No, that’s enough,” Ned said, making an effort to talk above the screaming. The baby seemed to grow louder with each passing minute. “This’ll sure give you a headache,” he said.    

“Hmmph,” Julia said.

“So what am I supposed to do now?”

“I don’t know, try burping him again,” she said. “Maybe he has gas or something.”

Ned took the baby upstairs, while Julia fixed a salad and peeled the potatoes. She could still hear him wailing through the ceiling as she put the chicken in the oven. Then, after a while, there was silence. Ned let out a quiet whoop and Julia tiptoed upstairs to see what was going on.

She found her husband doing fist pumps into the air while the baby lay in the bassinet, kicking his legs as though he was riding an imaginary tricycle.

“How’d you do it?” she asked.

“I burped him, just like you said, and he let out a big one.”

“You burped him for half an hour?” Julia said.

“Not the whole time, we did some rocking, too, didn’t we, buddy?” He gave the baby an air high five.

“Good one,” Julia said. “You know, his face is still all red.”

“He’s just tired himself out from all that crying he did,” Ned said.

“I guess,” Julia said, looking down at the baby again. “Anyway, dinner’s ready. I made chicken.”

They left the baby in the bassinet and went downstairs to eat. The chicken was dry and the mashed potatoes were lumpy, but Ned ate everything without a word. Julia barely touched her food, instead swirling the mashed potatoes around her plate, covering anything that crossed their path.

“I was thinking,” Ned said after a while, “that maybe I should finish school after all. I could take night classes when the semester starts up again in a few months. And who knows, if I take some classes over the summer and maybe even a full semester down the road, I could be finished in a couple years.”

“How nice for you,” Julia said, still looking down at her mashed potato avalanche.

“Come on,” Ned said. “You can’t punish me forever. And it’s not like I’m being selfish here. I’d be doing this for us, for our family. It would be nice to have a little more money coming in…and some job security and…”

But Julia wasn’t listening anymore because the baby was crying.

“Again?” Ned said. “He literally just stopped two seconds ago.”

“Maybe he’s lonely,” Julia said.

“Or maybe he’s just spoiled.”

“What a thing to say about your own son,” Julia said.

“I’m sorry,” Ned said. “Why don’t we try feeding him again? Maybe he’s still hungry.”

“I don’t think that’s it, but it’s worth a shot,” Julia said.

She prepped a bottle and went back upstairs with Ned where they sat in the nursery, taking turns trying to coax the nipple into the baby’s mouth. Each time he refused.

“Great idea,” Julia said.

“At least I had an idea,” Ned said.

“Fine,” she paused, scanning the room. Her eyes passed over the crib Ned put together for hours one Saturday, the smiling photo of the three of them in the delivery room, the nightstand scattered with her abandoned possessions: a silver necklace Ned had given her for their first anniversary, some loose change, a spare set of keys. “What about taking him for a car ride?” she suggested.

“Alright,” Ned said, “but just around the block a few times. I need gas to get to work tomorrow.”

“I told you we were getting low two days ago,” Julia said.

“Well, in case you didn’t realize,” he cleared his throat, “it takes money to fill up a gas tank, money we don’t have right now.” He glared right at her, his icy blue eyes giving her the chills.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because,” he said, “this was my point before. I want to go back to school so we can make more money.”

“School costs money too, you know.”

“I could get loans,” Ned said.

“Hmmph,” Julia said.

They bundled the baby in a coat and blanket and brought him outside to the car. It was a crisp autumn night and Julia shivered as she strapped him into the car seat.

“Here,” Ned said, unzippering his sweatshirt. “Take this, you look freezing.”

“Thanks,” she said, climbing into the passenger seat.

Ned started the engine and they made their first lap around the block. As they approached the stop sign at the end of the street, they both noticed something odd. The baby had stopped crying. Ned looked at Julia and smiled.

“A few more times for good measure,” he whispered.

She put her hand on his and together they gripped the shifter. For a moment, all she could hear was the hum of the engine, the wind flowing through Ned’s slightly opened window. She thought of the countless nights they had spent driving aimlessly together while they were still dating. Sometimes Ned would take Julia to the rich neighborhoods and the two of them would point out which houses they hoped to own one day.

“What about that one, with the Jacuzzi on the roof?” Ned would say.

“Too dangerous,” Julia would reply. “You wouldn’t want kids running around up there. What about the one next to it, with all the windows.”

“Definitely not enough privacy,” Ned would counter before finding a remote spot to park the car.

Now they were lucky if they could get one minute to themselves without the baby crying or spitting up on himself or wanting to be held constantly. Julia was thankful for the newfound silence as they pulled the car into the condominium parking lot.  

“Do you ever wish it was still just us?” she said. “You know, like before we had the baby?”

Ned frowned. “Never,” he said. He looked back at their son, who was kicking away and making quiet gurgling sounds. “I wouldn’t change this for anything. Even the crying.”

Julia sighed. “You’re right,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt and sliding out of the car.

She carefully removed the baby from the car seat and tiptoed through the front door with Ned. Then she placed the baby on the couch and gently took off his coat. His eyes fluttered for a moment before closing and Julia decided she would put him to bed early tonight.

As soon as she had him scooped up in her arms, Ned plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV. The announcer’s voice blared through the speakers and Ned fumbled for the mute button, but it was too late.

The baby whimpered for a moment, then let out the most ear piercing scream Julia had ever heard.

“Ned!” she said. “Look what you did. You couldn’t wait two seconds before turning on your stupid game.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would be so loud.” He sighed. “I just needed a break for a second.”

“It’s nice that you get breaks,” Julia said, “while I’m stuck here all the time taking care of the baby.”

“Who do you think pays for his diapers? Who do you think buys all the formula? Don’t tell me I don’t do anything. Don’t even try to say that I don’t deserve a break.”

“At least you get out of the house,” Julia said. “At least you get to work.”

“So work then!” Ned said. “And I’ll stay home.”

“Maybe I will. And maybe I’ll go back to school.”

“Fine then,” Ned said.

“Fine,” Julia said.

They looked at each other, then down at the baby, who seemed to be crying even louder than before.

“Ned, this doesn’t seem normal,” Julia said, biting her lower lip. The baby’s face was nearly purple and he let out a constant, high-pitched shriek. “I think we should call the doctor. Maybe take him to the hospital.”

Ned paced back and forth. “You know we can’t afford to pay an emergency room bill. See, this is what I mean. I’m working an unstable job with no health benefits…and they could just fire me at any time…and then where would we be?”

But Julia was barely listening to him because the baby was screaming. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Ned said. Julia stared at the floor as she rocked the baby back and forth, back and forth. “Look, there must be something we haven’t tried. Let’s just think for a second. And if that doesn’t work we’ll go to the 24-hour clinic. It’ll still be a lot, but at least it’ll be less than the hospital bill. And I can always take extra hours.”

Julia and the baby kept rocking.

“I know,” he said. “What about a bath? He’ll love that!”

“Hmmph,” Julia said finally. “Go get the shampoo from upstairs and I’ll get him undressed.”

While Ned ran upstairs, Julia pulled out a changing mat from one of the kitchen cabinets and laid it out on the counter, then placed the baby on top of it. The baby was still wailing, kicking his legs wildly and jerking his head from side to side.

“There, there,” she sang, as she unbuttoned his onesie. She pulled his arms out gently and felt his soft skin against her fingertips. With the onesie undone and at his ankles, she tackled the diaper.

“No squirting,” she laughed, but the baby kept crying.

Next came the legs, one at a time. She had trouble getting the onesie off the baby’s right leg, though, as if it was caught on something. She pulled harder and harder, then harder still until, finally, it was off. 

That’s when she saw it—a gold chain from a necklace wrapped around his right ankle. She touched her bare neck and wondered how long it had been since it had fallen off, how it could have gotten there, how she couldn’t have known. Horrified, she unraveled it in a fitful panic, revealing the reddened skin, the cutting indentation.

“Oh, Zachary,” she cried. “Zachary, I’m so sorry.”

Zachary looked up at her, his face wet with tears. Slowly the red turned to white.

Julia was sobbing now, a deep, throaty cry that came out with such force it nearly brought her to her knees. She had to grip the counter to keep from falling. Upstairs, she could hear Ned fumbling through the drawers and she thought of calling out to him, but she no longer had the strength. The screaming had stopped but there was still so much noise.