Chapter Text
Mike climbed up the stairs of the building slowly, his hands grabbed the railing so he could have an extra bra as his legs were getting weaker and weaker. His job as a waiter was demanding and paid little, but at least it was enough to cover all the expenses he had on his shoulders. She stood one floor before reaching her apartment, could feel the tension on her shoulders build up as she heard loud music from one of her neighbors upstairs and the familiar crying of her baby Norman. He clenched the bridge of his nose as he cursed every god his mind could remember before he climbed the stairs faster and entered the apartment.
“Mike, I’m really sorry, he hasn’t stopped crying about the noise and I-”
“No, Jenny, it’s not your fault. This is the third time this has happened, I’m going to go talk to that guy. ” Mike interrupted angrily, leaving his jacket and briefcase on one of the old dining room chairs.
The baby continued to cry as hard as his lungs could allow, Mike came out of his apartment in a rage, his footsteps were strong and as soon as he stood in front of someone else's door, he began to hit it hard for whoever was inside to come out. The music stopped suddenly and slow steps sounded before the door opened.
Mike was about to start screaming until he saw the other man's deplorable state: Growing and messy beard, poor hygiene due to his dirty clothes, worn and full of stains of bodily fluids, dirt under his fingers, swollen and red eyes, clearly from so much crying, and red marks on the edges of his eyes, caused by light burns due to the abundant tears. Mike scrambled before lowering his anger slightly and finally talking.
“Listen man, uh, my baby is crying and he really needs to sleep, I would appreciate it if you could turn off your music or turn down the volume. ” He spoke, still with annoyance, but definitely with kindness that he would not be there from the beginning.
The man seemed to take a moment to answer.
“I’m sorry. ”
Mike almost felt bad the moment he heard that man's broken voice, wondering if it was because of his recent crying or if he hadn't spoken to anyone else in the past few weeks or even months.
“Don’t worry, just don’t let it happen again, will you?” Says Mike, he breathes a sigh at the end of his sentence.
That man nods slowly and Mike can't help but ask.
“Are you all right?”
Before that man can answer, his baby's cry resounds more audibly. Mike becomes alert and looks backwards with a gesture of apology, who nods when he understands.
“They need you there,” he says, before closing the door.
Mike makes a mental note to come back later when he has more time.
He rushes to his own apartment, enters it and takes his baby from Jenny's arms, who smiles as the little one seems to calm down as soon as he smells Mike's scent.
“It looks like someone missed Dad,” Jenny says with a little giggle at the end.
Mike nods as he turns to see her, his baby has been surrendered in his arms thanks to the long-awaited silence and gentle touch of his father. He walks gently to his briefcase and pulls $10 out of his wallet, extending it to Jenny who quickly begins to deny with her head.
“Mike, no, no. No offense, but you need them more than I do, and you know I’m happy to help you. ” Says Jenny, walking away from the $10 Mike was offering her.
“Jenny, please accept them. . . We’re friends and everything but I don’t think it’s fair that I don’t give you anything in return after you’ve helped us so much. ” Mike replies, their voices almost whispering due to the baby's sleep.
Jenny looks into Mike's pleading eyes before sighing and taking the money reluctantly, clearly knowing what she would do with it.
“How did it go at work? Did they give you the raise?”
“No. . . I need a few more weeks of seniority before I can apply. ” Says Mike with some desperation.
He took Norman, his baby, and began to roll him in his soft blankets before placing him in the second-hand crib that Jenny had given him. Mike sighed as he sat by the crib and rubbed his face with both hands, clearly tired of the lifestyle he had.
“I’m tired, Jenny. . . ” Mike whispered sadly.
“I know, Mike. I know. ” Jenny replied as she approached him and gently stroking his back, trying to comfort him.
Mike stared at the floor, all that could be heard were the occasional sighs of the baby and the misplaced electrical current from the apartment. A thought crossed his mind before he looked at Jenny.
“Do you know the guy from 5-16? The one with loud music?” Asks Mike from his curious nature, turning to see his friend.
Jenny seems to think about it a few moments before answering.
“Uh. . . Not really. The last three times it happened about the music we didn’t talk beyond the situation, but he looked like shit. ” Says Jenny, not wanting to sound rude, but brutally honest.
“Yes. . . Today when I went to complain, he looked disgusting, Jenny. I was worried somehow. ” Says Mike honestly.
Jenny lets off a funny sniff, walking towards the kitchen to start cleaning up a bit of the cupboard that was totally disgusting. They are silent for a few moments before the woman speaks again.
“I think his name is Harry, the tenant once came here and I think I heard him call him that. ” Says Jenny, still turning her back on Mike.
The boy doesn't answer, occasionally looks at the crib to make sure Norman's okay. His mind is full of thousands of thoughts, swallowing saliva at all the possibilities that could have happened in that man's life and how much you would be risking going to investigate him to find out how he is, for after all he is a stranger. He sighs before standing up and stretching his body, hearing the familiar sound of his bones thundering.
“You are the best, Jenny. Are you staying for dinner?” Mike asks, starting to help her clean the cupboard.
“I can’t, I have to finish a painting that I have pending for my next exhibition. ” Says Jenny, excited.
“Okay, then go, see you tomorrow. ” Says Mike with a smile, dismissing Jenny who finally leaves the apartment.
Once Mike is left alone with his baby, he can't help but think about all the decisions he made to get to that point in his life. He didn't regret having Norman, but. . . he didn't like the life he was giving him. A solitary apartment, small and full of moisture. Cheap powdered milk of dubious quality, an emotionally unstable parent. He knew he was doing his best, he knew it wasn't his fault he was like this, but he also knew it wasn't his baby's fault either.
He walked towards the cradle, took the child in his arms and, observing his sweet and innocent gesture, could not help shedding some tears. He approached him, giving him a small kiss on his forehead and cradling him on his chest.
“I’m sorry you have a father like me. . . ” He whispered in the middle of his lonely apartment.
That day Mike cried once more for the life he had.