# Flash fiction: Baby



## fpak (Dec 14, 2014)

_
Before beginning the story I just thought I might highlight that Ammu and the narrator Nabil have had an arranged marriage. It is quite common among Indians and Muslims and I did not want to leave anyone who reads this here scratching their heads at certain points in the story.
_
​*
Baby*

The night before Rustam disappeared, my wife told me, “I know you have something with her.”
She said it to me in the kitchen after dinner. After I finished crying I washed my hands at the kitchen sink. Then I told her the things I hoped she wanted to hear. Self-hating things. Flattering things.
She said, “You love her and you want to be her kid’s father.”
I told her she was my baby. My baby.
                            *
Ammu and I have been married for three years. It was to be a fresh start for me. I wanted to be a good husband. We moved to the Meadows; an upscale gated community in Dubai. She was in her first year of college in Chennai when our marriage was arranged. She continued her studies at the American University in Dubai. We put off having children for the time.

Then on one of my business trips I fucked up. It was this blonde, bubbly American colleague. She laughed and called herself a home wrecker in a voice-mail she left me later and it hit me hard. It hit me so I broke.

Zuleikha was one of our neighbours in the Meadows. She was divorced with custody of her child and in her late thirties. She shaped her eyebrows and wore thick red lipstick even when she was alone. She was older than me and she was lonely and she loved that I got along well with her son. He was ten years old and his name was Rustam. He was small boned and milk skinned and bright eyed. I taught him how to juggle a football properly and helped him with his homework.

You have to understand. He was good for me. For me and Ammu. He made me want to be better; to try again.

And one school night after he had been put to bed, I stayed a bit longer talking with Zuleikha. She told me she was a sucker for a kind man and she kissed me. I’m a sucker for a kind woman. I showered at Zuleikha’s house before I went back home to Ammu.

I thought Ammu wouldn't find out. Ammu my baby. Back then at least, I was sure I loved her. My good wife. She was beautiful; honey skin covering fine bones and supple curves. She had quiet ways. That’s why when she laughed with me, I felt special. We were a good couple. I was talkative and got worked up over things and she was cool and placid and surprisingly pragmatic. She was a good housekeeper, an experienced cook and a fine lover.

When our families first met, they had let me and Ammu take a walk together in her family’s backyard garden to get to know each other a bit. We walked in the shadows of tall trees and made small talk. Then she asked me, “Do you think you’re a good person?”
I paused for a moment.

“I don’t know.” I said.

“Oh good.” she said.

“People who know they’re good are the worst.” she said. Then she laughed and swept a stray hair away from her face.
We got married two months later.

                           *

When Rustam disappeared the police questioned Ammu. My wife was the last person seen with the boy. Rustam had told his mother that he was going over to our house that evening. There were witnesses from the neighbourhood that testified that my wife had let him in.
The police obtained a search warrant. They went through our house for three hours while I and Ammu waited at a Starbucks in the neighbourhood. It was a warm sunny day and we were sitting outside drinking Frappes.

“Hey.” I said.

She looked at me.
“You okay?” I asked.

She nodded.
“It’ll be fine.” I said.

“I know.” she said

“Don’t you have any idea?” I asked “About where the boy might have gone after?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, that’s the issue isn't it?” I said. “They don’t know what happened after he left the house.”
I drummed my fingers on the table.

“Are you okay Nabil?” she asked me.

“What?” I said.

“You liked that child a lot.”

“Yeah.” I said. “He was a good kid.”

“You think being his father will make you better.” she said.

I did not say anything. I just looked at her.

She smiled, showing all of her teeth.

I thought of the police combing through my house. From attic to basement. I felt suffocated.

“Don’t you remember anything?” I repeated.

She shrugged and sipped her frappe.

Ammu is an only child. When she was nine years old her mother had become pregnant again but she had fallen down a set of stairs that Ammu was helping her climb.

I remember once having abruptly woken up in the middle of the night with an erection. I thought to wake Ammu up. I turned around on the bed to find her staring at me. I blinked and then smiled and pulled her close. That was the night she told me.

“I have dreams.” she said “Where I am a child and I am eating a baby. And I know the baby is my brother or sister.”

The police didn't turn up anything at our house. The next day they found Rustam wedged into a man-hole near the school. They found D.N.A on him that lead to one of his teachers getting arrested.

I came home that day and I told Ammu about Rustam. She held me while I cried. I do not want children anymore. They are just another way for the world to destroy you.

                              *
It was a small thing that happened about a month later. I came home late from work. I did not want to disturb my wife. So I used the spare key and let myself in. I walked upstairs to our bedroom. Just as I was about to open the door to the room, I heard it. I paused for a few moments and then opened the door. Ammu was lying in bed reading a newspaper. She looked up with raised eyebrows.

“Nabil!” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I let myself in.” I said.

She asked me if I was hungry. I shook my head. She then folded up the newspaper on her lap. She got out of bed and went downstairs with it in hand. I walked out of the room quietly and watched her from the stairs. I saw her place the newspaper under a stack of old magazines near the couch in the living room. She then went into the kitchen. I went downstairs and extracted the newspaper from the pile. It was around a month old. I rifled through the pages and then I found it; the article on Rustam’s murder. There was a small picture of the boy next to it. I placed the newspaper back under the magazines. I made my way upstairs back to the room and sat down on the bed. I stayed like that till my head stopped swimming. I then got up, undressed and climbed into bed. I curled up on my side. Sometime later my wife came back into the room. She got into bed next to me. I lay still with my back to her. She tossed and turned for a while. Then she reached out and touched me.

“Nabil.” she said softly.

She stroked my back.

“Nabil.” she said again.

I lay still and my eyes were shut. I heard a creak of bed springs and then I felt her hot breath in my ear.
“I know you’re awake.” she whispered into my ear. She then gave me a cold kiss on my cheek and turned away to her side of the bed.

I kept hearing it all through the night; my wife giggling at the newspaper when she had thought no one was around.

THE END




Note: Well that's the story.
 I keep wondering whether I've added enough of a setting for this story or if is even necessary.

And what did you guys think of Nabil? Don't worry if you don't like him as a person. I wrote the guy and even I think he's an asshole.  What I mean is how does he come of as a fictional character? Is he believable? Can you get inside his head? Also I hope the story hits the right note and comes of as creepy enough. Your feedback is appreciated.


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## TKent (Dec 14, 2014)

Hey fpak,

Very cool story, I really liked it!  We had already had the GFlynn conversation in the intro thread so I knew something was coming so I didn't get the full effect of how the plot twist would have hit me had we not had that conversation. I love these dark, twisted stories (what that says about me, I don't want to know).

I do have some feedback to offer (just little nits here and there) but I can't do it today as I'm too busy. I will definitely get back to it tonight or tomorrow though!

So glad you shared and welcome to WF!


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## fpak (Dec 14, 2014)

No problem. Thanks for the read!!!


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## Firemajic (Dec 14, 2014)

I read this for pleasure--not to nit or pick, I will leave that to others who do a wonderful, indepth crit.I had absolutely no problem staying engaged and interested. I was starting to pick up some bad vibes about Ammu,when she was "Helping" her Mother climb the stairs , then when she told her husband about her dream of eating her sibling...well I knew something really was wrong. I was not surprised that Nabil had an affair, that sort of thing is so common as to be almost cliche, what did surprise me was his relationship with Rustam, and the depths of his feeling for the child. I was thinking that Ammu killed the child out of jealousy, so that someone else killed him was a surprise. The subtle terror that Nabil has when he heard his wife giggling at the newspaper article was brilliant. Less is more, and the subtle nuances screamed...I loved this! Thanks for an intriguing read.   Peace always...Julia


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## fpak (Dec 14, 2014)

Thanks for the kind words Julia! I am glad you liked the story!


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## joshybo (Dec 14, 2014)

Nice work overall.  Definitely an interesting, creepy little tale delivered quite effectively.  It feels a bit rushed toward the ending, but there's a lot of potential here if you were to expand upon it.  It stands well enough on it's own as is, but you did such a good job building up the history of the characters and giving us an idea as to the intricacies of their relationship that I was left wanting a bit more out of the ending.  I wasn't ready for the story to be over is what I'm saying, I suppose.  And I mean that in the best possible way.

Some considerations:

*It hit me so I broke.
*
Did you mean to say, "It hit me so *hard* I broke."?  The wording would definitely work as is, just something I wondered.

*He was small boned and milk skinned and bright eyed.*

Repetitious use of "and".  Stylistic choice?  If not, you could replace the first instance with a comma and it might read more smoothly.

*Ammu my baby.
*
Missing comma.  "Ammu*, *my baby."

*We walked in the shadows of tall trees and made small talk.
*
No critique, I just really liked the word play in this line.  Nice job!

*“Oh good.” she said.*

*“People who know they’re good are the worst.” she said. Then she laughed and swept a stray hair away from her face.*
*We got married two months later.*

This read a little awkwardly.  It wasn't the content, more the structure.  I might have written it as follows:

*"Good," she nodded.  "People who know they're good are usually the worst."  She laughed and swept a stray hair away from her face.  We were married two months later.
*
Just a slight variance and you may not like this as well.  Writing styles differ from person to person and that's fine.  Just a well-meaning suggestion.

*They went through our house for three hours while I and Ammu waited at a Starbucks in the neighbourhood.
*
"...while *Ammu and I*..." would be correct, grammatically speaking.  Also, would you be allowed to leave the premises while the police conducted a search in a missing persons case?  That's a serious question.  I wouldn't imagine so, but I'm no expert.  If not, this could hurt the realism of the scene and the conversation could just as easily take place on their porch or what have you.

*“Hey.” I said.*

*She looked at me.*
*“You okay?” I asked.*

*She nodded.*
*“It’ll be fine.” I said.*

*“I know.” she said.*

*“Don’t you have any idea?” I asked “About where the boy might have gone after?”
*
Lots of, "I said, she said, I asked."  Those little explanations aren't always necessary and can trip up the flow of the story.  So long as the dialogue is written clearly, the reader will know who is saying what.  And if you really just want to have them in there, you could spice them up and not always lean on the generic, "I said."  It takes a lot of getting used to, but effective story-telling should show, not tell.  Instead of just saying, "I said," you could transition into the action the speaker is performing.  For example:
*
"Hey," I rubbed her should and she looked at me. "You okay?"*

That's probably not the best example, but it gets to what I mean.

*I came home late from work. I did not want to disturb my wife. So I used the spare key and let myself in. I walked upstairs to our bedroom.*

Unnecessary fragmentation, I'd say.  I actually like and use sentence fragments, myself, but these just caused me to stumble a bit.  This selection might read more clearly as:
*
I came home late from work and did not want to disturb my wife, so I used the spare key and let myself in. I walked upstairs to our bedroom.*

Another small edit, but something along those lines would probably flow a bit better.

That about does it for me here.  I apologize for the exhaustive review, but I like to receive in-depth critiques, myself.  You've got a very nice, intriguing story here with a twisted ending.  I'll be looking forward to reading more of your work.


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## fpak (Dec 14, 2014)

Firstly Im glad you liked it. 

Secondly don't apologize for the critique! I don't just post here for the fawning admiration of the masses. I mean, yeah I do, but not only for that.  I also need actual feedback from smart, nit-picky readers and you were very helpful.

Yes some of it was, as you guessed, a stylistic choice, but I'll be editing the grammar mistake you pointed out. And you were right about those sentences near the end being too fragmented. Will be changing that too. 

Also I would like you're opinion on something.

You mentioned a problem with the dialogue; lots of "saids". That was actually a stylistic choice. I thought it added a certain rhythm to the dialogue but as a reader do you feel it comes of as clumsy writing?


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## joshybo (Dec 14, 2014)

> You mentioned a problem with the dialogue; lots of "saids". That was actually a stylistic choice. I thought it added a certain rhythm to the dialogue but as a reader do you feel it comes of as clumsy writing?



That's the funny part about the differences of writing styles.  Sometimes, what we like about our own writing is not always technically correct.  I have an almost macabre affinity for adverbs.  I love them unabashedly and as a result I use way too many of them.  I know it's incorrect and I'm struggling to correct it, but I'll always love them.

I wouldn't say it came off as "clumsy" per se, but it reads generically to me.  I wouldn't suggest doing away with "I said" completely.  Sometimes people say things.  It happens.  However, seeing so many used, one right after the other, just makes it seem like the author is either unable to come up with any more creative way to drive his or her dialogue along or they are just going through the motions.  And while I haven't read much of your work yet, I can tell from the beginning of this story that neither of those assumptions applies to you.  You strike me as a creative writer and you took a lot of care to build up the back story to this tale and did so precisely and without a lot of unnecessary exposition.  I assumed you had your reasons for writing it that way, but it just seemed stale compared to the simple, effective narrative you've written here.


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## Olde English (Dec 15, 2014)

The clunky wording and disjointed narration work in an amateurish kind of way.


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## thepancreas11 (Dec 15, 2014)

Wow. I've been reading Ernest Hemingway recently, so maybe that's why I like the sparse style so much. Or maybe it's the fact that you've left the window-dressing at home; we just get the real deal. Some people might call that underdeveloped, but I think you've cornered a narrative style that a lot of people have trouble with. You give just enough detail for me to understand what's going on, to get involved, and not too much to get bogged down.

I like the meandering style, too; I just wish it had a little more purpose. You have the part about the affair which read as important and then fades to an unnecessary backplot. I would have rather seen that blossom into something worth remembering. I also thought the beginning could get cleaned up in that regard: I didn't know Rustam was a boy's name, to be honest, and maybe that's where the confusion comes from. Just a little more structure would go the longest way there.

Keep it up. Try some of the competitions, too. You've got a great digital pen, there fpak.


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## fpak (Dec 16, 2014)

thepancreas11 said:


> Wow. I've been reading Ernest Hemingway recently, so maybe that's why I like the sparse style so much. Or maybe it's the fact that you've left the window-dressing at home; we just get the real deal. Some people might call that underdeveloped, but I think you've cornered a narrative style that a lot of people have trouble with. You give just enough detail for me to understand what's going on, to get involved, and not too much to get bogged down.
> 
> I like the meandering style, too; I just wish it had a little more purpose. You have the part about the affair which read as important and then fades to an unnecessary backplot. I would have rather seen that blossom into something worth remembering. I also thought the beginning could get cleaned up in that regard: I didn't know Rustam was a boy's name, to be honest, and maybe that's where the confusion comes from. Just a little more structure would go the longest way there.
> 
> Keep it up. Try some of the competitions, too. You've got a great digital pen, there fpak.



It is very flattering that you would mention Hemingway in the same sentence as my own writing. One way or the other, Hemingway has influenced me since I began writing some time ago. Have you read his story "A Clean, Well Lighted Place"? I consider it the best short story I have come across to date.


As for cleaning up the beginning I suppose you're talking about the first segment of the story which goes up to the point where Nabil reassures his wife she is his "baby."

In particular I suppose you're talking about the first line; _The night before Rustam disappeared, my wife told me, “I know you have something with her.”

_Actually I intentionally wrote the first line that way; keeping it slightly mysterious to intrigue the reader.

Do you feel that it takes away from the narrative?

Thank you for the feedback you've given me so far.


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## Apex (Dec 18, 2014)

fpac,
 this is the second story of yours I have read. Last year I joined a forum based in Africa. The writers were all African, and their style of writing was very different than writers of western countries. They wrote as they talked, using slang such as "Dis, and Dat." For the word sex they used, "Joy stick." I did like their stories, but the manner of their english was very different than I am used to. They were complaining, American, and UK agents would not accept their work. I made an effort to explain to them, their english did not match western readers.
I like your writing. The hardest thing for a writer to do, is write with simple words. You do that very well. What I am having a hard time with is finding the core meanings of your stories. Stories must leave the reader with something they can build into their own life. Perhaps your way of telling a story does that, but I don't see it?
If you are writing for a country, the writing style must match that country. Which country are you writing for?
If you are writing for an english speaking country, let me suggest a book:

Nitty-Gritty Grammar by Edith H. Fine, and Judith P. Josephson  ISMB 0-439-69211-3

This is a very simple book to read, and follow. it is one I have suggest to friends from other countries, and they have done very well with it.
If I were to write for your country, I would be lost. You do know how to write, and I'm sure with a little more english your work would shine.


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## joshybo (Dec 18, 2014)

I actually look at the issue which Apex pointed out a little differently.  Apex is correct--there is a distinguishable voice in your work that comes across as "foreign" to a primarily English reader.  It's certainly not that your English is bad or anything, it's more of just a cultural nuance.  You use words or phrases that sometimes read as noticeable translations (I actually mentioned this in one of my crits for another of your stories) but I take that as a stylistic choice to relate that culture through your writing and I actually like it, personally.  It's kind of like watching an old period-piece movie set in Egypt yet all of the actors are speaking in British accents.  Most people probably perfer it that way due to convention or the country of the intended audience, but I'd rather watch it with the subtitles on because it feels more genuine.  In the end, I suppose it depends on what you're trying to accomplish.  Both are valid considerations.


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## fpak (Dec 19, 2014)

Apex said:


> fpac,
> this is the second story of yours I have read. Last year I joined a forum based in Africa. The writers were all African, and their style of writing was very different than writers of western countries. They wrote as they talked, using slang such as "Dis, and Dat." For the word sex they used, "Joy stick." I did like their stories, but the manner of their english was very different than I am used to. They were complaining, American, and UK agents would not accept their work. I made an effort to explain to them, their english did not match western readers.
> I like your writing. The hardest thing for a writer to do, is write with simple words. You do that very well. What I am having a hard time with is finding the core meanings of your stories. Stories must leave the reader with something they can build into their own life. Perhaps your way of telling a story does that, but I don't see it?
> If you are writing for a country, the writing style must match that country. Which country are you writing for?
> ...





Hi Apex,
Firstly thanks for reading and reviewing both my works, I really appreciate it. I am also glad you like my writing style.

I know you have a few issues regarding the stories and I'll deal with the most important one here first. You've stated on reading both my stories that you are having a hard time finding out the "core meaning" of my story, that you were left wondering what I had to say.

 I hope to eventually make a living from selling my writing. And driven by this ambition, I have always had the attitude that the customer/reader is king. If a reader "fails to get" any of my stories, its not because I'm too high-brow or any of that rubbish, it is most likely because I'm not doing my job well as a writer. So with this in mind, I will try my best not to fall into the trap of trying to defend my writing. Instead, I'm just going to write here a little bit about my general approach to writing these two pieces and I hope that sheds some light on them.

I'll relate to you a little anecdote that I came across once: _A journalist happens to approach a famous interpretative dancer after a particularly good performance. He then asks her what the performance meant. The dancer replies "If I could say, it I wouldn't have to dance it."

_I have always loved that line. It really opened my eyes regarding some of the work I was reading at the time. I was reading stories by Raymond Carver and Anton Chekhov, scratching my head and trying to figure out what the core meaning was and what they were trying to say. I realized that if these writers could tell me the core meaning of their stories in a single line, they wouldn't have sat and written the story.

At best their stories made you feel something. There was a lot of skill and craft involved on the part of the writer, but on the part of the reader the response to these stories were, if the writer had done his job right, emotional rather than intellectual. These stories first and foremost made you feel at least something at some level.

So, coming back to my own writing, this is the effect that I've tried to emulate. However, I do deal with individual themes and ideas in the two stories.

For example: In "The dying of the light" I sought to show how fragile and precious joy is when compared to the long shadow of sadness. How we relish every little happiness we get. And that even something as resilient as sadness passes in the end.


In "Baby" I just sought to write about an asshole married to a sociopath. 


So as you can see, my stories do deal with a few themes, and if I've written them well they'll make you feel something. But to reiterate, if I could have told you the meaning of either of the two stories in a single line, then I wouldn't have written either of the stories. I would have just written two lines, one for each story, and moved on.

If after all, you still feel that neither of the works do anything for you, then either I have messed up somewhere (In which case I would love any advice you have to give), or I'm just not a writer who suits your tastes in fiction. In the latter case, I just have to accept that I can't win over everybody. There are always going to be intelligent, opinionated readers who think that my work is lacking.

In either case I do hope to hear from you.

P.S: About the language issue, I write for an English speaking audience but my stories so far have taken place among Westernized Tamil Muslims living in Dubai.


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## Apex (Dec 19, 2014)

fpac,
I think I will know you a long time. I also believe one day your books will sell in major book stores. Writing is not just a matter of learning how to write, it deals with courage. To put feeling on to paper a writer must cut open the part which holds secrets he/she would not tell their best friend. It is called, “Writing with your own blood.”  The characters are written in fiction, but their emotions must be real…they can not be made up. A character does something, or tries to…why? Is he filling a hole in his past? The good guys are not always good, and the bad guys are not always bad.  Nor does a character always know why they are doing what their subconscious is leading them into. 

Here is an example:

The story I posted about Dean Jefferson. Two readers told me, “I don’t know why he was looking out the window having the flash back.” I fixed that part.(the fix is just a draft.) The character Jefferson is out to destroy the town…he does not know this fact yet. When he does, the beast will be uncontrollable., and he has to find a way to stop it. Here is the part I added:


 Odysseus  Jefferson proudly took part in in three freedom marches…his fourth Was different. He was beaten, jailed, and scared.  He stood beside Martin Luther King at the Lincoln Memorial.  Freedom, if it came, would not erased the anger lingering beneath the scares…  
Dean Jefferson looked out the dirty window onto the campus. He could still hear the rage of the mob; “Nigger, Nigger, hang the damn Nigger” He had run from death leaving his friend Elishah Washington to the fury of the crazed mob. The sound of Elishah’s skull popping open sounded like cantaloupes exploding on a dirty dark street. ‘Pop- Pop-Pop.’ 
You respect Hemingway as a writer. At 19 he was in the Italian army in WW1.  He could not have written, “A Farewell to Arms,” at 19. Ten years later when he had more life under his belt, and time to think about his past, then he could , and did write it. 

Writing is not just writing stories…it is learning about life. Learning about people, and understanding hidden feelings. Your story about the two boys in the boat…one of them had once wanted to die…why? Also, why did he not die?  This was the core of the story…it was the part you did not tell. If a young person wanted to die, then changed their mind, would they tell the truth why they changed their mind? I think not…so he would make up a story. 
I have a note pasted to the inside of my skull; What is my story about?I hope this helps.


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## fpak (Dec 19, 2014)

Apex said:


> fpac,
> I think I will know you a long time. I also believe one day your books will sell in major book stores. Writing is not just a matter of learning how to write, it deals with courage. To put feeling on to paper a writer must cut open the part which holds secrets he/she would not tell their best friend. It is called, “Writing with your own blood.”  The characters are written in fiction, but their emotions must be real…they can not be made up. A character does something, or tries to…why? Is he filling a hole in his past? The good guys are not always good, and the bad guys are not always bad.  Nor does a character always know why they are doing what their subconscious is leading them into.
> 
> Here is an example:
> ...





You're giving me high praise Apex. I hope I don;t disappoint you. 

And yes I definitely like the additions you've made to the opening.

You're right about writing. It needs to bleed. The writer must have no secrets.


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