Where is the Baby? by Charlotte Vale Allen

looks better. How would that be?’
    â€˜Cut with a razor?’ Humaby asked worriedly.
    â€˜Scissors,’ the nurse said. ‘Do you know what they are?’
    Humaby shook her head.
    â€˜Scissors are a tool. We use them to cut all kinds of things, not just hair. Paper and cloth, lots of things.’
    â€˜They don’t hurt?’
    â€˜Not at all.’
    â€˜Okay.’ Humaby put down the spoon, picked up the glass of apple juice with both hands, tasted the juice, then drank it all. ‘What’s this?’ she asked, touching the bowl on the tray with the tip of her finger.
    â€˜Oatmeal cereal.’ Pushing away from the window, the nurse sprinkled some sugar in the bowl, opened the milk container and poured it into the bowl too. ‘It’s good. Try it.’
    Humaby took a bite, chewed experimentally, and decided she liked it.
    â€˜Told you it was good,’ the nurse said, as Humaby began spooning the cereal into her mouth. ‘I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. Eat as much as you like.’
    â€˜â€™Kay,’ Humaby said, around a mouthful of soft sweet oatmeal.
    When the nurse came back, she taught Humaby how to brush her teeth, watching with interest as Humaby switched the brush to her left hand. Then the nurse washed Humaby’s face and hands, being careful of the hand with the bandaged cut, and dried her with a towel, saying, ‘It’s still early. Want to watch TV for a while?’
    Remembering what Mr Brian had told her, Humaby said, ‘
Sesame Street
, ’
Lectric Company
,
Mister Rogers
?’
    â€˜Those shows don’t come on until later. How about some cartoons?
    Humaby shrugged. ‘What’s a ka-toon?’
    The nurse turned on the set, then used a little black thing to go through the channels until she stopped, and said, ‘This is a cartoon.’
    A skinny rabbit was chewing on an orange stick and talking to a little man with no hair. It didn’t make sense. But the nurse seemed happy, so Humaby sat with the bear and the bunny on her lap and watched intently, trying to figure out what was going on.
    Everything felt strange: the underwear, the dress, the shoes and socks, even her hair, which she kept touching. It was very short and when the nurse put her in front of the mirror, saying, ‘See! You look great!’ Humaby thought maybe she was a boy-girl after all, because her hair looked the same as the hair on all the men she’d ever seen.
    Her feet felt as if they’d been put in narrow little packages and tied up tight. And even though the nurses said the dress was pretty, and she said, ‘Thank you,’ so they wouldn’t be mad, it felt stiff and uncomfortable. She’d never had on so many things at one time and she couldn’t move right. All the bandaged parts of her were itching and she wanted to rub them but was afraid the nurse ladies would get mad. So she kept her fingers curled into her palms and tried not to think about it.
    After a long, long time sitting in the chair by the bed, trying to watch the cartoons but not liking them, an old lady who had on regular clothes came and said, ‘Come with me, dear,’ and held out her hand. Not knowing what else to do, and afraid, Humaby took the lady’s hand and they started walking. The dress and the shoes made noise and the underpants felt funny on her bottom.
    They went down a big long hall that had lots of doors – some open, some closed. Voices came out of the ceiling, white ladies and men in white coats were hurrying here and there, and sad people were crying in the hallway. She’d never seen big people cry before and kept looking back at them.
    They walked far and her feet hurt from the shoes. At the end of the hall, the lady pushed open some big doors and they were in another hallway. There were no more voices coming from the ceiling here, and lots more doors, but a different kind. At last, the lady opened one of the