Emerald Oasis

Rodger Bentley

There was a baby on the floor. Joyce had seen many bizarre things happen since she moved into Emerald Oasis Nursing Home, but this was beyond a joke. Joyce picked the baby up and tried to comfort it. He was still crying. Poor thing, she thought. The baby had nothing. His frail skin exposed to the cold breeze from the window. He didn't even have a nappy. Joyce removed her lime green cardigan and wrapped it around the baby's body. The baby's mother had to be young or somebody new to parenting. No decent parent would ever leave a child on the floor naked by the window.

"Don't worry," Joyce assured the child who was screaming. "I'm going to find your mother. She can't have gone far."

The doors were guarded. If the mother had brought the child with her into the home, she would doubt the staff would let her leave unless they knew where the baby was. With the baby cradled in her hands, she ventured around the home looking for anybody who seemed to have been missing a child.

The journey of finding the child's mother was going to be a daunting one. Even if the mother and child had been reunited, it wouldn't be for long. Joyce presumed that the child would be taken into care and adopted into a nicer family.

She saw nothing of the sort. The baby's bottom was still dry, but she knew it wouldn't be long until it would go. She went into the nurse's office, hoping that they could be of some assistance.

"Good morning Joyce," the nurse said. "What can I do for you?"

"I've found this baby boy on the floor," Joyce explained to the nurse. It was strange confiding in somebody younger than Joyce. She was so used to everybody else flocking to her for some wisdom. "I need to find his mother, but I also need some nappies for her. Do you keep any baby nappies in here?"

The nurse shook her head. "I'm afraid not. But we have pads in the cupboard if you need them."

Joyce squinted. "No, they're for the baby." She sighed. The nurse was going on about something else, but due to her thick African accent and Joyce's poor hearing, she didn't understand a word. "Well, I'm sorry for wasting your time."

She left the nurse's office and carried on walking down the corridor until she found the library where Larry the rabbit hopping about. Two old ladies were snoozing on the sofa near the window as a man sat by the table reading vintage books. It was Rodger Bentley, who once owned the toy factory in town.

The baby cried again. This time it sounded demonic and deep. Joyce's heart was pounding harder and her hands were beginning to tremble. She tried to comfort the boy. "Hush! It's alright. We will find mummy soon. If only I knew your name..."

"He won't have a name," Rodger said.

"He's got to have a name."

"Well, it's certainly not going to be Pinocchio."

"Don't beat around the bush," Joyce requested. "I'm really getting a headache."

"All right then, the truth is: you're not going to find his mother," Rodger Bentley roared, standing up with his hands on his hips. "That's a doll."

"It can't be a doll," Joyce said. "It's moving and crying."

"I've worked with toys all my life," Rodger said with his eyes popped open. He confiscated the baby off Joyce. "I know what I'm talking about. This little boy needs some new batteries." Rodger unwrapped the toy and slammed the doll on the table with his back facing the ceiling. He pulled the back and it revealed two pale batteries. Rodger dug deep into his pocket. "I think I've got some in here. Ah! Here we go."

Within five minutes the baby doll was back to life. He giggled and Rodger placed the doll on the floor and began to move. Joyce was stunned. She couldn't believe what had just happened.