i turned my back for a moment and when i looked around everyone was carrying babies in their arms no less. fat ones, thin one, short ones, tall ones, all cradled in parental devotion.

i asked someone where my baby was.

'all the babies are at the bottom of the well,' they told me. 'not many babies left now.'

i didn't want to get left out of all that baby stuff. i skipped work and went to the well.

 

at the well, a man was lowering a bucket down on a length of rope thicker than my arm. when he eventually pulled it back up again, there was a baby sat in the bucket, smiling.

'who wants a baby?' he cried. 'baby going!'

a crowd quickly gathered. arms were raised to heaven.

'i want the baby!'

'no, me, me, i've been waiting all day.'

'over here, why i swear he even looks like me.'

'first come, first served,' said the bucketman and passed the baby over to the nearest person. they didn't look like they'd make a particularly good parent, they had a glint in their eye. but those are the bucketman's rules, and have to be abided by, everyone knows that.

 

'where are all the babies coming from?' i asked the bucketman when the crowd had dispersed.

'the bottom of the well,' he replied.

i think he missed the gist of my question. i persevered.

'how many are there?' i said.

'i don't know. maybe thousands, maybe none. it's all the same to me. i'll stay here until there's no more babies coming this way.'

we both heard a shrieking cry from the bottom of the well.

'at least one more though,' said the bucketman and lowered the tool of his trade once more. 'stand aside, work to do.'

 

the next baby had sky-blue eyes and a full head of blonde hair, he attracted a number of admirers.

'what a cute baby!'

'i saw him first, that makes him mine by rights.'

'i'll give you a hundred pounds for the baby,' said a voice at the back.

the crowd fell silent. amid the hush, the bucketman spoke.

'there's no selling going on here, i've told you all a thousand times. money doesn't come into this, money is dirty and crude and not a baby thing at all. you want a baby, you have to wait your turn like all the rest. to the back, until you've learnt your lesson.'

sheepishly, the offending party retreated, head bowed in shame.

'now who wants a baby?' he cried, 'loudest shout gets the baby this time.'

the wellside erupted and the baby was passed on after the greatest volume was pinpointed.

 

all day i stood there waiting for my baby. biggest boobs gets the baby this time, smallest big toe this time, longest neck this time. i wasn't in with a shout any time.

'what say i get the next baby?' i said to the bucketman. 'i'll owe you one.'

he smirked. 'the next baby is going to be a real stinker, i tell you that now,' the bucketman told me. 'this well has had nothing but good babies so far, a bad one is sure to rise up sometime around now. are you sure you want the next baby, whatever it is? there's some rotten babies around these days.'

i thought. i was hungry. i said, 'yes.'

'the next baby out is already taken,' announced the bucketman to the crowd. groans of disapproval and calls of 'fix, fix', and 'what's the deciding factor?'

'the next baby goes to the person who has the least belief in the law of averages. it's already clear who gets this baby.'

rope goes down, crowd draws its breath. a raven flying over head looks down and squawks.

the baby emerges from the depths of its hole.

and by god it's ugly.

 

'i've changed my mind,' i said, ' i'll have the next one instead, one with less body hair and more toes.'

'take the baby,' chanted the crowd. 'clear out and let the rest of us get good ones, we deserve them, we work hard and have good homes, we don't try and cheat. we'll feed them well and tickle under their chins and mop their brows and sing them lullabies. you take yours and make do.'

'shoo,' said the bucketman, 'and don't talk like that in front of your baby.'

dejected, i walked off. the incontinent baby wet itself in my arms.

why did i ever say i wanted a baby? the baby wouldn't stop crying all the way home, i thought maybe it was missing the company of all the other babies left at the bottom of the well. i decided the only solution was to check the baby in at a 24 hour crèche, work an extra two days a week to pay for it, and maybe visit at christmas and birthdays. everyone else was wandering along with their babies playing happy families, it was making me feel sick, that and the smell of baby vomit.

 

at the crèche, they told me they didn't do 24 hour care. what i was looking for apparently was a children's home, where the baby would be better off without a terrible parent like me anyway.

'i had to queue for this baby,' i told them, 'that's dedication. should a baby's head really be that shape?'

 

i had to stay home from work just to look after the baby. he wouldn't sleep or eat, just befouled himself and leaked tears.

'i'm sorry boss, something came up. i got this baby…'

'you'd better be in here tomorrow or else you can start looking elsewhere for employment. didn't i say stay away from the baby well?'

i had no recollection of the warning.

 

i sat in my flat and started singing a song. it went like this:

well, since my baby found me

my life has gone to hell

the only thing left

is to drop it down that well.

the baby stopped crying, he seemed to like the sound of it.

 

when the sun had set, i wrapped the baby up and headed back to the well under cover of darkness. not a soul around, the only sound was the crying of babies down the well. i put the baby in the bucket and started to let the rope slide between my hands.

'what's your game?' i heard a voice shout from behind me.

'oh, nothing, just having a stroll.'

'i do hope you're not putting a baby back in the well. babies only go one way, and that's out.'

lying wasn't nice, but then neither was looking after that baby.

'look, you caught me,' i told the bucketman, 'i couldn't be bothered queuing and was trying to get a baby out whilst you weren't around. i'm sorry.'

'not going to happen my friend,' said the bucketman, 'let that bucket go back down to the bottom. and no more babies for you in future either.'

'sorry,' i said through gritted teeth.

he kicked me up the arse and i was on my way.

stupid baby!

 

babies