Baby Shazz
Note: This story is in no way meant to put humor into the death of
Gerard Corr. May he rest in peace. I have only used his death as a point
in time for this story to take place.
March, 1970
Little Jim Corr, only six years old, wanders into his room and sits
down on his bed quietly. The bed that he had shared with his recently-departed
brother seems rather empty to him now.
He has just returned from the funeral, and the mood is dark. As usual,
the weather outside is rainy.
Jim: To match my mood.
Yes, to match Jim's mood. Jim takes off his shiny dress shoes, the
ones that he had worn with his suit to see his brother at the funeral.
In another room, a recently cleared-out study is where a baby crib
is. It's a simple white crib, and it had held both of the Corr brothers
in the past. In the crib is a little baby girl, who is staring up at the
ceiling.
Sharon: Waaaaaaaaaaaa....
Sharon knows that her phrase will attract the attention of her parents,
or maybe even the attention of the funny-looking boys that sometimes show
up.
Sharon: Waaaaaaaaa!!!!!
Jean Corr enters the room.
Jean: Ohhhh what's the matter, Sharon? Why are you crying?
Sharon: (thinking) Because I'm bored and me diaper's wet.
Jean picks up baby Sharon, holds her, and bounces her a bit in her
arms.
Jean: There you go. All better. Mommy's here.
Sharon: (thinking) Uhn uhn uhn uhn stop shaking me!!!
Gerry enters the room.
Gerry: Something wrong?
Jean: No, no. Sharon just needed a little attention.
Sharon: (thinking) And a diaper change, Daddy-o.
Gerry: And a diaper change. I'll take care of it.
Jean: No, it's fine. Go check on Jim. Make sure he's alright.
Gerry: Ah, the little man is tough as steel. He's fine.
*clop clop*
Gerry: I better go...
Gerry goes to Jim's room and opens the door. Jim's shoes are lying
near the door, having been thrown there.
Gerry: Aw now, don't throw things. How are ya, boy?
Jim: *shrugs* I dunno, pop.
Gerry: You feelin' okay?
Jim: No.
Gerry: Ya wanna go outside and toss the rugby ball?
Jim: NO!! Not the rugby ball!!
Gerry: *swallow* Sorry, Jim. It's rainin' anyway. How about a spin
of the record player? I found the White Album.
Jim: No, pop. No Beatles.
Gerry: Okay, well, I guess I'll let you be.
Gerry leaves the room. Jim takes off his coat and throws it at the
wall.
A couple days later...
Sharon is staring at the ceiling again, noticing a few new designs
and reaching up at them, laughing.
Sharon: Ahh hehehe.
Jean: In here, Jim. Come on, don't drag your feet.
Jim and Jean come into the room, and she picks baby Sharon up.
Sharon: (thinking) Whoaaaa. Hey! Why's the funny-looking boy looking
at me all weird?
Jean: You know how to hold a baby, right, Jim?
Jim: Duh! I used to do it all the time!
Jean: Okay now, don't be a fuss. Now, me and 'yer pop will be out in
Dublin for a few hours. Now, I trust you'll be good?
Jim: Yeah.
Jean: Eh?
Jim: *sigh* Yes, mammy.
Jean: Good. *kisses Jim* Now, I have to get ready.
Jim: Bleh. Ok.
Jean leaves the room, and Jim looks at the baby crib. Baby Sharon is
on her knees, holding herself up with the bars of the crib.
Jim: Hey baby.
Sharon: (thinking) That's Sharon to you, bub. (out loud) Baaa hahaha.
Jim: *sigh* This is going to be complicated.
Sharon: (thinking) Comp-le-what?
Jim: I'll be back later. *turns to leave the room*
Sharon: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.......
Jim: *stops* What?
Sharon: Thpppt. Hehe.
Jim: Um, okay. *turns to leave again.
Sharon: Waaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!
Jim: Aggh! What???
Sharon: Boo. Oooooooh...
Jim: I swear, you're annoying for a sister.
Sharon: (thinking) You ain't seen nothin' yet, pal.
Jim: I'll just leave for a second.
Sharon: Waaaa....
Jim: But I'll be back. Don't move.
Sharon: (thinking) As if I can actually go anywhere at my young age.
Jim leaves the room, goes down into the street, looks both ways, and
picks up THE FOOTBALL. (Again, this story is NOT humoring Gerard's death).
He then goes back upstairs. Halfway up the steps he hears...
Sharon: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jim: Oh geez...
Jim goes into Sharon's baby room and she stops crying as soon as she
sees him.
Jim: What's the matter with you, baby?
Sharon: Ahhhh! Hehe. Ba da oo...
Jim tosses the football (soccer ball to the Americans) back and forth
in his hands. Sharon's eyes follow it back and forth.
Sharon: Ahhh. *reaches out to the ball*
Jim: Uh-uh. This ball is dangerous. It's a very bad ball.
Sharon: Oooo. *reaches out further*
Jim: No! *tosses the ball away*
Sharon: Wwwwwwaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!
Jim: Oh no, what now?
Sharon: Waaaaaaaaaa!!!!!
Jim: What??
Sharon: (thinking) I'm ticked, buddy. (out loud) WAAAAAAAA!!!
Jim picks up the football again and brings it over to Sharon, who stops
crying.
Jim: You're good. I couldn't control my crying when I was your age.
Sharon: (thinking) It's a woman's touch, bro.
Jim puts down the ball, and Sharon starts to get tears again.
Jim: Aw come on! Don't look at the ball. It's bad! Evil ball! I condemn
the ball!
Sharon: Ooo haha. (thinking) Eh well, a little late for that.
Jim starts to leave the room.
Sharon: Aa??
Jim: I'm leaving. I'll be back.
Sharon: Ooo... *falls down*
Jim: Okay, fine. *takes the crib wall down and picks her up* There,
happy now?
Sharon: (thinking) Not as happy as you're gonna be.
Jim: Ohhh!!!! Aw man!!! Great... you smell bad.
Sharon: (thinking) Well look who's talking, bub!!
Jim: Great, now I have to change you. *sigh*
Jim puts a blanket down on the table, sets Sharon down and proceeds
to take the diaper off.
Jim: AGGGH!!! Oh god!! Oh the humanity!
Sharon: Ahhh hehe! (thinking) Mom feeds me well. Enjoy!
Jim: Well... here's goes nothing. (tries to be brave) Iron Man, Iron
Man, does the things that... I can't. Agggh.
Jim takes the diaper off, his face crinkling up, and throws the diaper
away.
Jim: Okay! That's done.
Sharon: (thinking) Make the face again!
Jim: Hey, wait a second... where the heck is your thing? The... thing!!!
Sharon: (thinking) My what?
Jim: You're broken!
Sharon: Aaa?
Jim looks around the room, hoping that his mum will come back in to
help him, and perhaps to explain why his sibling doesn't have a "thing".
Jim: Why did Mammy and Daddy have to do this to me? They gave me a
broken brother.
Sharon: (thinking) Brother? Oh brother! Haha!
Jim proceeds to clean Sharon up.
Sharon: (thinking) You'd BETTER use that powder.
Jim: Okay, all done. Now, where does mammy keep the diapers?
Sharon: (thinking) You're the one with legs! You figure it out!
Jim searches through many cabinets until he finally finds a few. He
puts it on Sharon, relieved.
Jim: Okay. That's done. Now...
Sharon: Waaa. Waaaaaa!!! *rolls around*
Jim: What now?
Sharon: AAAAA!!!
Jim: Eh?
Sharon: Aaaaaa haaaaaa....
Jim: This is bad. I'm terrible at babies!
Sharon: Waaa. Ooo? Haa...
Jim: Okay, that's better. I have an idea.
Jim picks up Sharon and brings her downstairs to the kitchen. He sets
her down on the floor and lets her crawl around, which she's amazingly
good at even though she's not very old at all.
Jim: I know what you want. *opens up the fridge and gets the milk*
Okay, now...
He looks over to see baby Sharon drinking from a bowl, accompanied
by the family cat.
Jim: Huh. Well then...
After letting baby Sharon drink from the cat bowl for a few minutes,
he hauls her out. Sharon is giggling, enjoying the fact that she almost
drowned herself in the milk.
Jim: I didn't know babies could drink out of a bowl at your age. You're
too little.
Sharon: *bleccch* (thinking) Too little, eh?
Jim: AGGGGH!!! Oh no!!!!
Sharon: (thinking) Whoaaa that didn't feel good...
Jim puts Sharon down on the floor and goes upstairs, leaving her alone
with the family cat. It's a small black cat, a runty little cat with one
big green eye and a little blue eye.
Cat: Mowwwwwwww??
Sharon: Ba? Haha.
Cat: Onnnnkk....
(Note: The cat is somewhat brain-damaged.)
Cat: Mif. Mif.
Sharon: Hehehe! *punches cat*
Cat: Meff... Mowwwwwwwwwww!!!!! *jumps up in the air and kills invisible
dragonfly*
Sharon: Oooooh...
The cat gets closer to Sharon and bops her on the nose.
Sharon: Hehehe. *punches cat again*
Cat: Ack.
Sharon grabs the cat and rolls around with it on the floor.
Cat: Mow ow ow ow ow...
Sharon: Hehehe! Ah....
Jim comes back downstairs, having put on a new shirt.
Jim: What the heck is going on down here?
Cat: Mow ow ow ow ow...
Sharon: Hehehe!
Jim: HAHAHA!!! Oh my god!! That's so cool!!
Sharon stops rolling with the cat and punches it again, making it chase
its tail.
Jim: Okay, enough playing with Skitch. Come on. *picks up Sharon*
Sharon: Ahhhhhh... waaaa! Ah ha...
Jim: No, Skitch is going to go even more insane if we keep playing
with him.
The cat runs, impacting against a cupboard.
Jim brings Sharon into the living room, where he sits down with her.
Jim: It's gonna be weird having a sister. I wish Gerard was here to
back me up.
Sharon: Ooooh...
Jim: Yeah, he's gone. Now I've got to share the house with a girl.
Sharon: (thinking) It could be worse, buddy.
Jim: *pokes her nose* Yah, well, I guess it was gonna happen sooner
or later. As long as I get another brother, I'll be fine. No more girls.
No.
Sharon: (thinking) Lord help me.
Jim: Check this out.
Jim picks up the remote control and turns on the TV. An old video of
Jimi Hendrix is on the channel, and he's playing the American National
Anthem.
Jim: Heck yeah! Look at him go!
Sharon: Ahh? Hehehe... *pounds her fists on Jim's lap*
Jim: Whoa, watch it.
Sharon: (watching TV) Wa wa wa! Hehe... Booooo...
Jim: Hey, don't boo him. Listen to that!
TV: *screecchhchhchchchchchc beeooobeeoooowwwwwwwwww*
Jim flips the channel.
TV: The way of milking the goat is similar to a cow. You just grab
the teet...
Sharon: Ah! Hehe...
Jim: Aggh! *click*
TV: For the best cure, go for O'Riley's corn oil. Guaranteed to make
food taste great and cure dry, cracked feet.
Jim: Ah, TV. The god of all of us.
Sharon: Ba? Ha...
In the kitchen, there is sudden loud crash.
Cat: Mowwwww...
Jim: Oh great. Skitch! What did you do now? (Leaves Sharon on the couch)
While Jim goes off to the kitchen, baby Sharon grabs the magical TV
control and decides that it would be good to suck on.
In the kitchen...
There is flour all over the floor, several broken plates, and kitchen
knives scattered everywhere.
Jim: Skitch! Where the heck are you?
The cat pops up out of the kitchen ceiling lamp, flour all over its
paws. It falls from the lamp it hits the floor with a thump, its eyes un-crossing
before it collapses in a heap.
Jim: Uh oh... Skitch?
Jim picks up the cat, which is limp in his hand. He shakes it a few
times, but it doesn't make any sound.
Jim: Oh no! (hugs the cat) It's dead! No!!!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!!
Hours later...
Jim: We're here today to pay our respects to our cat Skitch, who was
so dumb that he committed suicide.
Jim is holding Sharon, who is refusing to let the TV control alone.
There is a lumpy hole in the ground where Jim buried the cat.
Jim: He's with my brother now. At least he'll have something to play
with before I die.
Sharon: Aaa? *grabs Jim's face*
Jim: Aww... No, I'm not going anywhere.
Sharon: (thinking) You'd better not. I'm not putting up with Caroline
and Andrea on my own!
Jim: Well, let's get inside before...
The car pulls up in the driveway.
Jim: Uh oh...
Jean and Gerry get out of the car.
Jean: Jim! What are you doing with little Sharon out 'ere? She'll catch
a cold!
Jim: Em, nothing, mammy. We were just looking at the grass growing.
Gerry: And what's me best shovel doin' lyin' over there?
Jim: Em... someone tried stealing it. But...
Gerry: And why does Sharon have the TV remote in her mouth?
Jim: Em...
Jean comes over and takes Sharon from Jim.
Jean: There now. Hey, what's with that lumpy hole?
Jim: Nothing! I don't see anything.
Hole: Owwwwwwwww....
Jean: Mary and Joseph! That sounds like a cat!
Jim: I didn't hear anything. I don't do it.
Gerry: Did you say cat?
Jean: I heard the cat in this hole!
Hole: Owwww!!!!!!
Gerry gets down on his knees and starts scooping away the dirt. Just
a few inches down, he pulls out a very dirty, coughing, cross-eyed, brain-damaged
kitten by its collar.
Gerry: What the hell?
Jean: Dear, don' use that language with Sharon around.
Gerry: Why on earth did you bury the cat???
Jim: Em... em... SHE did it! (points at Sharon)
Gerry: That's it. You're on restriction!
Jim: NO! No wait, I mean, the cat killed itself! And I buried it!
Gerry: Killed itself? The thing can barely walk!
Jim: You're hanging the cat, dad!
Gerry looks at the cat, who for the past thirty seconds has been hanging
by its collar.
Gerry: Whoops. Well, no harm done. (puts the cat down)
Cat: Mooooo.... *thump*
Gerry: He was probably sleepin' like he is now.
Jim: Whoops.... well, I'm sorry. I thought the cat was dead.
Jean: And blamin' it on poor little Sharon...
Sharon: Hehehe... (thinking) Serves you right, bozo. This remote tastes
good.
Gerry: Well, I guess everything's forgiven. Now let's get inside.
The Corr family goes back inside. Jean heads upstairs to put Sharon
back in her crib, but Sharon cries as soon as she loses sight of Jim.
Jean: Aye, what's wrong? What's wrong with ye?
Sharon: Waaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!
Jim: Wait, mammy. I think I know what's wrong.
Jim holds Sharon, and she quiets down.
Jean: Ah, isn't that sweet? Here now, let me have her.
Jim hands Sharon back to Jean. Sharon continues to stare at Jim, following
him with her eyes.
Jean: Aww, she wants to play with you some more.
Jim: Eh. She's not like a boy. I can't play with her.
Jean: She's just not old enough yet, Jim. You'll see.
Years later...
Sharon: Give it BACK!
Jim: NO!
Sharon: It's MINE!
Jim: No it isn't, it's MINE!
Jean steps into the room.
Jean: Would you two STOP fighting over little Caroline?
Sharon: She's MY sister, not his!
Jim: Nuh-uh!! She's MY sister!
