Jehovah smiled when he pulled up to the front yard. As he’d expected, having a daughter instead of sons did not change the way that Chris Kristi thought. Out side the trailer in a play pin, crying indicated that he still didn’t give a shit where his kids were, nor did the mother in this case. Leaving an infant on the porch! Rediculous! Jehovah’s mother had always kept him close to her until she’d passed on and Jehovah got the impression that Lucifer’s mother had done the same. The bruises on the little girls face indicated that, even though the child was too young to know any sense of right and wrong, let alone Chris’ warped sense, it was punished severely for anything she did out of line. She had the same green eyes that Lucifer and Jehovah were graced with, and the same browned hair. She wore a dipper and a little purple tee-shirt, here in the still nippy air.
He’d watched for a month. He knew that the bastard and his whore would be at a party tonight, leaving the child with a sitter. He entered to find a teenage girl on the sofa, a boy with a pock marked face on top of her. Before either of them had time to look up, Jehovah hit the boy in the side of the temple, knocking him out, and pressed his hand over the girls eyes. He took a pad of chloroform and pressed it over her mouth and nose. In her panic, she was breathing deeply and the knock-out drug took quick effect. He exited the room to find the child still on the porch.
Jehovah’s eyes softened and his smile faded. He actually felt bad for the child. He knew what it was living with, and what it had yet to go through. Getting out of the truck, Jehovah walked around the front and approached the little girl. He picked her up carefully and set her on his hips. He’d never held a child before. It was an awkward situation as he stepped back into the trailer and entered. They left the door unlocked. He shook his head at the familiar pigsty in which Chris lived. The baby’s crib was stuffed in a corner of the living room, as was all of the things you need to take care of a child. There were scarcely any toys.
Jehovah set the child in an arm chair and found a dipper bag. He stuffed it full with dippers and wipes and what few toys he found. He found a backpack in the closet and stuffed a few baby outfits and blankets. Then to the kitchen, he found five bottles, a box of plastic bags for the bottles, and a canister of pre-made formula. He then left the trailer and picked up the baby carrier he’d seen left on the porch. He may have never held a child before but he was not ignorant (completely) to child care. He strapped the seat into the passenger side of the truck and went back inside to get the things and the child. It was eleven PM. The same time he did most of his ‘riskier’ work and knew it was a good time not to been seen out in the open. It was too late to walk the animals but too early for party goers to be returning home.
Swinging the bags into the bed of the pickup, he put the baby into the seat and snapped down the harness. He was surprised, as he walked around and slipped behind the wheel, that the child hadn’t cried through the whole process. Now to go find Lucifer and give him a reason to live. He looked over at the child as he got onto the main drag that would take him within a few blocks of his apartment.
“What should we call you kid?” He was not good with naming a child either. Such things had never crossed his mind before. Well, he'd done the kid one good deed and gotten her away from the trailer trash.
