Her Name Is Kasha


abby4_icon.gif huruma3_icon.gif



Scene Title Her Name Is Kasha
Synopsis Huruma brings Kasha to someone for help, before she does something she might regret.
Date June 27, 2010

Le Rivage Abby's Apartment

It is early evening when Abby gets an untimely knock on her door. Nobody called her, nobody gave forewarning that they may have been stopping by. For paranoia's sake, this fact probably makes her wary of the sound when it does come. What offsets it, however, is the muffled whining and keening of something little and fleshy pink crying about something just outside the door. For a moment, Huruma debates leaving the baby there on the step.

She does not, having gotten a somewhat angry look from the white robe on one shoulder. The red robe on her opposite arm makes a similar face. The knocking comes again.

Huruma is there, taking up the large space as she usually does; there is a huge bulge at the front of her jacket, however, and on any closer inspection it is the origin of noises and intermittently, bitty fingers grabbing at shirt fabric. One arm is around the bulge of her coat, the other fist balled and rigid at her other side. Her jaw is set, and her browline threatens to finally make her look more her real age by laying on the pounds of lines. Hard to tell, but she has telltale shadows beneath of her eyes, of which are decidedly brown. Abby has seen bloodshot eyes on her before- when she does nothing, it really looks like her eyes turn milky pink. So very unattractive.

Not that this especially is, either.

Huruma is at her door and that sounds very much like a… Baby?

The door opened, blue eye's peering between night lock, door, wall, the medic looks way uuuup to Huruma then to her chest. "You have a baby" Stating the obvious. She closes the door with little fanfar, still in her uniform, fingers working to undo the night lock and open it again so that Huruma can come in. "You have a baby Huruma. You have…" There's a peer as the woman is let in.

"Huruma, you have an angry baby"

It is Abby's own problem when Huruma practically stomps inside the apartment, all without her usual- well- she has a cat's manners. Today, not so much. More like a rhino at this point. She opens her mouth to say something after a few seconds of this, only it doesn't come out correctly enough.

"Mimi kumdharau watoto!" Huruma practically wriggles out of her coat, baby intact while mumbling in its hammock, before Huruma rigidly sets the whole deal down on the chair. Pudgy legs kick at air. "Hadi usiku wote! Kula kwa masaa yote! Kutapika juu ya kila kitu!" Her lips pull back into a hiss, as she stands there glaring down at the baby. Oh dear.

There is a reason she came here, rather than to someone else.

Lets get the obvious source of the woman's frustration away from her. The moment the jacket hits the chair, Abigail's swooping forward, careful to put a hand under the the infants neck, scoop an arm around and under it's legs to free it from the coat and bring the newborn up to her shoulder. "Shhhhhhhhhh" That is for Huruma, not for the yowling infant terrible who frets and shrieks against the pink haired woman's shoulder. For that, she tries to pat the back of the infant. 'Huruma, I don't speak… whatever you're speaking. Calm down!"

"Sitaki!" Huruma is across the room, but her snapping is as if she were right there. "Sababu lazima Yeye adhabu yangu-" She literally gnashes at the ceiling. Abby may be used to Huruma in most regards, but this is certainly rather new. "Mimi ni mwaminifu kwa huyo." Long fingers flex irritably at the air, and Huruma turns her palms up, stalking across the carpet and around again, one set of nails drawing down her face. Her harsh voice sinks into something smooth again, nails kneading precariously at her skin, eyes peering past her hand at Abby. No. At the baby.

"Mimi ni mtumishi mwema. Yeye anataka mimi kufanya vizuri moja?" Rhetorical, though Abby can hear the question in her tone. "Ndiyo."

"Huruma!" Abby raises her voice, using her body to sway back and forth, hopefully bring some calm to the infant. She hopes the raise in voice will knock the woman out of her alternate language and back to english. "Don't make me call Dajan and tell him that his mother was running around crazy and carrying a baby Huruma, you know I will. My pills wearing off and I am holding a screaming child, and I have you yelling, so either speak english and tell me what on gods green earth is happening, or go into another room because surely you are bleeding off on the poor thing!"

Letting Abby freak out and toast the thing could be all too easy, really. But then again, Abby never actually yells at her quite in that tone, with that emotion. Huruma's lips press together until they go a shade more pale, nostrils flaring lividly at nothing in particular. Abby is not only right, but Huruma knows that she is.

Perhaps the threat of calling her first mistake- in the sense of a failure- to arms is what grinds the nail down.

Her hands scratch airily to either side, fingers finding a place as fists. Huruma lets out one final guttural noise before her mouth opens again. "I found it. Her. I should have left it." The woman's eyes squeeze abruptly closed, features seeming to strain. If she was in fact bleeding over, it abides- and Huruma uses her own lessons to bring herself down to the planet Earth again. Breathing works.

"Then you'd have been no better than way back when and you're not that person anymore Huruma. You brought her somewhere else for help instead, like you did then" Before any damage - Abby hopes - could be done. She bounces the baby quietly, all manner of sounds slipping forth from her lips, things that she knows her mother did for her. Abby's own experience with babies is limited, but she's more metnally equipped to deal with her.

"She doesn't deserve your ire Huruma. She's just a baby, her own offense is being born. So use your ability to bring her a little calm instead of frustration and I will do the rest. You don't have any stuff for her do you?" Please Huruma, have stuff. There's a gesture for Huruma to take a seat on the goodwill couch, put her feet up as abby moves to the hall, toeing open a closet so she can dig for a blanket.

"I am not completely inept-" Huruma snaps again, only to pin her expression and reluctantly quiet again. A cuff on the ear for her. "I've changed her, fed her- it has only been half the night-" She grabs her defeated coat from the chair, literally shaking it out and being rewarded with a single, last cylinder of formula and a little plastic bottle.

"I cannot do this. He punishes me." At first, she tries to send out a wave of calm, though she does not seem too intent on keeping it steady, and it wavers before she simply turns it off in silence.

What little calm she gives, is good enough and better than none. "You can do it. You're just used to people running away Huruma, or eating them" A little joke never hurt anyone. It's awkward, maneuvering with one hand to get things. Food, bottle, enough to last one feeding.

"Just calm down. Treat it- her like Ada-" Wait. No. Don't treat the baby like Adam. Huruma might up and leave it. "Think of the baby like.. your grandson, only smaller Huruma. You interacted with him in Madagascar. Or think of the baby like a really young me" Which is to say, Huruma, this is your problem, i'm just going to help you out.

Which she does, getting the throw blanket laid out and the baby down on it after. Flip, flip, tuck, fold, tuck, soon enough the small infant is swaddled and snuggly, making far less noise and back up in her arms. "How did you come to have a baby. Is there cops looking for her?"
Brown, deceptively warm eyes follow Abby's movements in stony silence.

"Her mother is dead." Huruma does not get specific, which may be worse for her. She watches the little bump of human after a few moments, passing over a dose of zen to both of the blondes. "Badrani was different-" He was related. But really, it does not make as much a difference as she would love to believe.

"Badrani is no different Huruma, that is not an excuse. Please tell me that you did not have a hand in delivering this poor things mother to the lord. Really Huruma, I can deal with you being in Messiah and yes, you get a kick outta eating people, and you don't blink an eye at killing people and I never do understand why you are so different with me, but so help me"

More calm, more calm for the child who's quieting down, little face becoming serene and peaceful as Abigail rocks her back and forth in her arms, humming between questions. Some day, she will make a good mother. Some day. "If I can get her calm, will you be okay? Or do I need to try and find a place for her somewhere?"

"I did not. Homeless woman, overdose. I felt her dying." Not much that she could have done even if she had wanted to. "Messiah is only …something t'do. An'you an'your friends only read what you want t'read, when it comes t'knowing me." Huruma centers her eyes on Abigail again, narrowed lids and all. "All of you like t'think tha'you know me back t'front." All they know is that she kills people- sometimes she chows down- and she is one person to avoid if not impossible.

Nobody ever has asked why it is that she does what she does. They simply see the latter overpower the need, and so it never comes.

"I cannot keep her." Not forever. "If I needed t'only calm her, it is not a task. Th'task f'me is having her in th'first place."

"I never presume to know beyond what you show me Huruma. I don't even know your last name and you worked for me" She looks away from the other woman and down to the baby in her arms. "Hello you. So small and new and already so much bad hmmm?" One forefinger stroking across a cheek. SOmething so small grows up into something so big. "You could drop her off at a firestation, church, or a police station even a hospital Huruma. They're places where you can take abandoned babies" Not that she was abandoned per se.

"What are you going to do with her? Do you even know her name?"

"All of this is b'cause I'ave lost Him again. He has shot an arrow t'th'heart of th'path ahead, and it has landed on this one's mother. …I don'remember m'last name, Abigail." Huruma lifts her hands and sinks into the couch cushions, palms finding her face and nails digging into the shading of dark hair on dark skin. "I dropped m'issues off th'last time, see jus'how well that ended." Teeth click together, and she scowls past her hands again.

"I don'know. Kasha."

"Who did you loose?"

Huruma's not really making sense and the way she uses her hands is perhaps a bit disconcerting. One foot in front of the other, she finds herself at the couch, bending over just a bit to press and hold the child over to Huruma's chest. "Just hold her. You know how to hold her. Against your shoulder, or just like a really fragile china doll okay? You can do it, and just relax"
"Ga'a." If that was a word- or a name- it is quite hard to tell. Huruma's muscles tense up when Abby just holds the baby out to her, effectively leaving the dark woman with no other choice but to tentatively her her hands back around the baby. One never forgets how to do it, after the first time. Her own time was harrowed, ridden with something else- but all the same, it always comes back.

"I have been calling her Kasha." So, not her real name. "I cannot keep her wit'me. Not always. I have t'find a place- a person." Know anyone that wants one of these?

"Kasha sounds like a lovely name" Abigail murmurs, easing down onto the seat cushion beside Huruma. see, safety net isn't very far away. "I can check and see if there's any Ferry house that has a family that might take her, if not, I don't know whether the lighthouse takes babies. But it might be an option. Robert might know what to do with her, or with regards to the lighthouse"

She reaches over, stroking the not so fat cheek of the baby. "She should be checked out. If her mom was a druggie"

Ennnnh. Huruma makes a noise when the baby actually looks at her. Or seems that way. How did she make the whole night? It is a miracle.

"I cannot walk into a clinic wit'an Aryan baby, Abigail." Not suspicious at all! "I have limited experience wit'th'Ferry, an'likewise." For good reason.

Okay, yes, Huruma is black as sin and the baby is white as milk. "I'm Ferry Huruma. Just.. try and take care of her, and i'll see what can be done about her. When you need a break, you can bring her by. I can't take care of her when I'm working but…" But she can take the baby when she's not. Spare the black woman her sanity.

Or what is left of it. Provided it was wholly there. All that jazz. Huruma settles somewhat now that the infant has shut itself up and Abby is there to provide something of a comfort.

"I feel like Bagheera. Kipling?" Just in case Abby was that sheltered of a child. "I was never meant f'this."

"We're never meant for a great many things Huruma. Or maybe we are and we just don't know it. Maybe this little life had come into yours because now you are capable of finding the right help that she needs, or providing it yourself" She can be hopeful, but likely, no. Huruma happened to be just like Bagheera indeed. "Right place at the right time. What would have happened if no one had been there?"

"She would have laid there. I doubt she would be found. Dead end alley." The only reason that Huruma even knew someone was there, was because of her ability. "D'you think we can find someone? T'keep her?" She would rather not have to try killing another one so soon after finding the last.

"She must have been born during the storm too. She's can't be more than… a few weeks old, maybe two months at most. I can get Megan to come and take a look at her, she's a nurse in the Ferry. And we can find someone Huruma. The ferry don't turn anyone away. I'm sure Pastor Sumter might have a good idea of who in the ferry can take her. Like I said, I can ask Robert what to do with her. Might be a few days or a week or so."

So she is going to be stuck like this for days? Maybe weeks? Huruma manages to somehow hide her Immense Displeasure from what is relayed. "So- what'appens when bot'of us are busy?" She asks after a few long seconds of nothing, save for the mumbly noises of a baby half asleep, calm, not so much contented.

"Ohh, I'm pretty sure I can find someone. I know a few people. I'll tell them at work that I need to work days, since I know you're nocturnal" She's pretty sure the woman is nocturnal. "I can take her at nights, on my days off I can.. try and do the Ferry thing. Can you handle that Huruma? Because Kasha here? She needs you, she's relying on you. She needs you"

Nobody really ever has needed Huruma- perhaps they wanted her, or desired something that she embodied- but those that have needed her are few and far between. She resigns to the knowledge that this is one of those very scarce times. "I can." She has lived through worse.

"I am relying on you in return, Abigail."

"I'll be here. I won't leave ya hanging Huruma. Think of the story you can tell Dajan, about caring for this little baby and how… seeing him and Badrani, gave you the confidence to survive taking care of this wee soul. He'll be proud of you Huruma. Yes, you couldn't take care of them, but with help, you managed to elevate someone from … a potentially bad life" Abigail shifts, hand on the back of the couch supporting her weight as she rises high enough to drop a familial kiss on Huruma's temple. "You can do it"

"I don'think I should tell him. I have not even seen m'daughter again-" Huruma purses her lips closed, stopping herself just as Abby puts the touch of her mouth to brown skin. She sighs through her nose, eyes shifting to look at the girls. "I should hope so."

'Do not hope so. Know so. Do you need me to take her for the rest of the night? I can go out and get some diapers and formula and some clothes for her real quick. There's a store not far from here. Worst, I can send Peter out for stuff. If you need the break from her. But you have to show back up at not long past five Huruma, in the morning. I can give you a key" She can get a monitor as well, install the baby in the spare bedroom.

"I need t'sleep. Please, take her." Huruma murmurs loud enough to be heard. Only just. "I'ad t'walk here- I am shocked that I made it this far." Like any human, she is also prone to bouts of fatigue. She is more enduring when she needs to be- such as on her own or in some strange country doing who knows what- but there is no current need to make herself keep going at such a capacity.

"There's a mattress in the third bedroom, should be clean sheets on it. Go rest. Kasha and I, we can fend for ourselves. I'll go visit the stores before they close. Call Peter and get him to pick up a carseat and a portable crib. That way whomever she ends up with has some stuff for her" Abby promises, carefully insinuating her fingers in around the little girl and lifting her away from Huruma. "Off with you. Sleep now. Don't you worry about us. I'll call my Momma and see what she says. Momma'll help us out right fine"

Huruma says nothing further. She has nothing to add, and so she leans forward, onto her feet, skulking off towards the aforementioned bedroom. Right fine. Absolutely, Abigail.

Huruma's obeying. She can feel the shock in the young woman. hands maneuvered carefully around the young bundle, supporting head, lips moving as tongue pushes to the top of her mouth repeatedly in her dream, Abigail regards the baby.

"Well now Kasha. Lookit you. Found yourself a very unlikely Momma hmmm? Whatever shall we do with you hmm?"

Kasha's response of course, is a lonely little sound from the other end of her that makes Abigail wrinkle her nose.


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