"Why does she keep DOING that?!"

When Jackie found the baby, seated quietly on the front porch of the beach house, he couldn't even tell that it was human. The only visible parts of the baby were the face and hands, as the rest of the body was enveloped in a giant winter coat with the hood tied tight around the head. It still looked cute, just...weird. What the hell? Jackie thought to himself as he approached the door, carrying a brand new store-bought case of Limonada, not the kind that leaves "that taste in your mouth". Jackie walked slowly up to the door, mystified, and put the key in the lock, all the while keeping his eyes on that weird baby creature. As he turned the key, the baby looked up at him and smiled.

"Ohhhkay. H-h-hey there, buddy." Jackie stuttered.

As Jackie pushed the door open, the baby jumped up, eager to follow.

"You comin' too? Okay, whatever. C'mon."

Jackie didn't mind sharing his beach house with a strange baby he had just met. In fact, he didn't really care about anything at this point. All he really cared to know was a) he wasn't at work, and b) his irritable bowl syndrome hadn't acted up in 48 straight hours, a new record. These two factors alone would make it a wonderful vacation, strange baby or no strange baby. As Jackie slowly wandered into the house, the baby took off running up the stairs and out of sight.

"Hey, where you goin!" Jackie shouted.

The baby didn't answer, as most babies are (annoyingly) wont to do. Jackie was intrigued though. If the baby would have just stayed within his eyeline, he would have had no problem completely neglecting it and sipping a tall glass of limonada until the cows came home. In fact, Jackie didn't give a fuck if the cows stayed out all night, he was going to sip his limonada to his heart's content. And, actually, he didn't give a fuck what his heart thought about it. He was going to sip that limonada like it was nobody's business. Truth be told, it probably should have been somebody's business. Like the police. Or the baby's parents. But Jackie cared not. Tall. Glass. Limonada. Bitch. Until the thing executed a perfect baby-stumble up the stairs and into God knows what kind of trouble. Jackie, for the first time in his life, felt a strange sense of adult obligation. He sensed immediate danger.

Jackie ran up the stairs after the baby, instinctively calling out "Baby!" like the child was going to answer him at a moment's notice. Again, no answer. Jackie paused in the center of the second floor of the beach house. There were at least fourteen doors, each in it's own seemingly random mini-hallway of the house. Jackie paused and waited to hear some sort of blood-curdling baby scream. Or a cat's "meow" followed by falling trash cans and shattering glass. But all was silent. Eh, I'm sure it'll be fine. Jackie thought. Thing seemed fine sitting alone on the fucking porch, after all. Abandoning his baby-search after a not-so-desperate 30 or so seconds, Jackie ascended the stairs to the 3rd floor. He dropped his limonada off at the fridge and headed toward the giant sliding glass door at the far side of the open room. As he stepped outside, the ocean breeze attacked his hair while the salty scent of the sea encircled him. He put his hands on the splintered wood and took in a deep breath. Relaxation.

At this moment, a scurrying parade of tiny footsteps sucked Jackie out of his moment of zen. He turned around quickly, hoping to meet the eyes of that strange little baby. But there was nothing there. The sound of the footsteps was gone too. Jackie turned back around, losing himself once more in the calming vibes emanating from the ever-crashing water of the waves. Taking in another deep breath, he was once again caught off guard by a feverish flurry of footsteps that he could have sworn were right behind him. He turned his whole body around this time, expecting to catch at least a glimpse of that weird little baby. But once again, nothing.

"If you think you're funny, well you're not, baby." Jackie shouted, consumed by the aphrodisiac that is the Atlantic.

Jackie turned back around, started humming, and raised his arms into the sky, remniscent of Andy Dufresne after his escape from Shawshank. He was seriously relaxed by whatever this ocean breeze was doing to him. It was getting a little weird, even by vacation standards. At this precise moment, the baby bolted at unbaby-like speed through the open sliding glass door onto the deck, and, like a pole-vaulter, leaped over the railing. Jackie thought he heard something. He barely opened one eye, still humming, arms still raised, and caught a glimpse of the baby falling toward what would be a certain death if this were not a fairy tale story. Jackie was hysterical.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

The baby's back bounced off of the ground like rubber, catapulting it all the way back up to deck-level where it hung in mid-air and stared at Jackie, rendering him silent. The baby smiled, spat in Jackie's left eye, then began falling to the ground again. Jackie was hysterical.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

The baby once again bounced off of the ground like a super ball, shooting back up to deck-level at unbaby-like speed, this time landing on the deck next to Jackie.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Jackie shouted, completely neglecting the apparent age of the toddler's ears.

The baby shrugged and waddled back into the house, acting like it didn't just jump off of a fucking deck. Jackie looked once more over the railing to the ground below, expecting to see some sort of conveniently placed trampoline or something. But there was nothing. Just a baby-shaped imprint in the sandy earth. He ran back into the house and called out to the baby.

"Hey, baby! Get the fuck in here, we're gonna talk about this!"

But the baby would not cooperate. Jackie searched desperately for the baby, this time opening all fourteen doors on the second floor and hearing nary the faintest of baby toots anywhere. He decided to retire to his limonada. Surely he had been seeing things. Surely there was not even a baby present in this house. Surely a sip of delicious limonada would set his mind straight. So Jackie poured. Then sat. And sipped. For the next half-hour, this was all that occured. No sounds, no footsteps, no hardcore base-jumping babies. Finally. He thought. THIS is a vacation.

Jackie sat up in the shitty plastic seat and sipped his limonada, allowing every gram of sugar to wet his thoroughly exhausted whistle. He ignored the jagged edges of the tearing plastic as they dug into his spine like the claws of a cat. This bed of nails was still better than work. In fact, it might as well have been heaven. Jackie thought a vacation to Floggit, the most popular German-themed nude beach in all of New Virginia, might do him and even the baby some good. He couldn't speak for the baby though. After all, he had only known her for a little more than five minutes, and to this point hadn't taken to calling her anything except "baby". But she had some serious issues with jumping off of that fucking deck, so maybe she could use a little relaxation time to clear her thoughts, whatever those thoughts may be. What a fucking weirdo. Jackie thought to himself. Maybe she's an alien.

Just as Jackie started to believe that the baby may have been a mirage, he heard the footsteps again. They didn't seem to be coming from any specific direction. He kind of heard them in surround-sound,  which was infinitely creepier than regular sound. The baby was all around him, and yet...nowhere. Before Jackie could raise his tall glass of limonada to his lips for another sip, he saw it. The blur of a baby leaped over the couch and straight through the sliding glass door, coming to a stop right before the railing. The baby stared down Jackie. Jackie slowly stood up and raised a single finger toward the little demon spawn.

"I swear, baby. If you EVEN fucking j-"

Before Jackie could even get the words out, the baby stuck out its tongue and leaped backwards over the railing, once more engaging in the single strangest baby activity Jackie had ever seen a baby do.

"Why does she keep DOING that?!" Jackie shouted, making his way over to the deck.

Just as he was about to step out onto the glass-covered deck, Jackie heard a voice from inside the house.

"Hey! Hey you!"

"Wh-Wh-Who said that?" Jackie stammered, slowly turning his body back toward the open room.

"The couch! Come to the couch!" said the voice.

Jackie hurried over to the cream-colored couch and knelt down on the floor.

"Get under here," the voice from the couch demanded.

"You can talk?!" whispered Jackie loudly.

"I'm under the couch, you wiener" said the voice.

Jackie looked under the couch. There was an older man, a black man, lying on his stomach and motioning for Jackie to join him.

"Hurry up, she's almost done!" said the man.

Jackie got on his stomach and slowly pushed his body into the tight space beneath the couch. The man held out his left hand.

"Frank," he said.

Jackie paused, then shook the mans left hand with his right hand.

"Jack."

"Well, Jack, welcome to hell!" said Frank with a smile.

"What is that thing?" asked Jack.

"A baby girl, as far as I can tell." Frank said, laughing with his eyes.

"Well what the fuck are we doing under the -"

Before Jackie could finish, Frank's hand covered his mouth, muffling the last few words. Frank shook his head and wagged his finger as if to say "No." Jackie heard a thud and then footsteps entering the room. The baby had just completed her latest death-defying act, and Jackie was now more confused then he had been five minutes earlier, when a fucking BABY jumped off of a fucking DECK. The footsteps walked right past the couch and down the stairs, slowly out of earshot. After a few silent seconds, Jackie heard the front door slam. Frank took his hand off of Jackie's mouth.

"What the fuck,  man?!" shouted Jackie.

"I know," said Frank, "The door slam is the worst part."

"What the hell does that mean?" asked Jackie.

"Means you're trapped, my friend. We both are." Frank said cryptically.

"Trapped?!" shouted Jackie. "You can stay, buddy, I'm fucking leaving."

Frank grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in close. His eyes meant business and Jackie could tell. Shit was about to get real.

"You can't fucking leave, Jackie boy, do you hear me? You can't. You think I haven't tried? She won't let you, boy. Do you hear me? SHE. WON'T. LET. YOU."

"She won't let me?" asked Jackie, bewildered.

"Won't. Let. You." Frank repeated.

"So, she won't let me?" Jackie asked once more, smiling and emphasizing the word "she" to let Frank know that he was being held captive by a fucking baby girl.

"SHE WON'T LET YOU LEAVE! NOT NOW! NOT EVER! DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" screamed Frank, wiping the smile clean off of Jackie's face.

Jackie paused and looked around. He moved his mouth, but no words came out.

"Just trust me." said Frank. "For the love of God and all things holy, just trust the lonely black man you just found under a couch. It could save your life."

Jackie felt an odd sense of comraderie with the man and an even stranger sense of trust. He decided to comply with orders.

"Okay. So what do we do?"

Frank stared into nothingness and shook his head.

"Frank! What do we do?" Jackie repeated.

Frank slowly tilted his head upward, casting his gaze from the floor to Jackie's eyes.

"We wait." Frank said stoically.

"For what?"

"For the next poor bastard that wanders into this God-forsaken house."

Jackie stared at Frank as he laid his head on the floor. For a few brief seconds, he wished his irritable bowel syndrome would act up so he could open that front door and take a giant dump on the baby's head. But his rectum felt nothing. Jackie laid his head on the floor next to Frank and closed his eyes. Worst vacation ever. He thought. Worst fucking vacation EVER.