You wouldn't know it from her pink polyester sweater and short black skirt, but she was the church's pride once. Back when she could smile and old men drooled, back when she hung onto one arm and wore long dresses to potluck suppers.

A siren screams up Torpedo street, she knows something is wrong, she knows that it has stopped at her house in the middle of the block. She throws change on the counter and grabs the carton of milk. the sound of sloshing liquid suddenly calls out urges in her tense body, she runs with legs tightly held together, takes her espadrilles off and barefoots it through the suburban grid. One, two, third street, on left and she sees the black and whites by her lawn. She almost stops. The heart in her ears slams panic
and pulls a moan out of her parched lips.

A woman is standing by her door, talking to policemen. Neighbor, she thinks, smiling with a twist.
We were worried about your children, i wasn't sure you'd be back so soon, but you shouldn't.. her whinny voice trails.
The tall man in blue holds up a hand up to silence the little lady and grabs her arm ever so gently.
We'll call on you if we need any further information Ma'am.
The petite blond turns her head frantically as she is determinedly led to her front porch. Meanwhile the shorter officer grabs paper and pen and starts jotting down information,
name? occupation? husband's name, occupation? children...
Sir please, may i go in and see my girls? They are waiting for me.
You should have thought of that before you left Ma'am.

You should have thought of that before you left them unattended. It is against the law to abandon children alone anywhere.
But Sir? i went to get milk three blocks on foot, i do that every day.
Can't you take them with you?.
No Sir, too hot for the baby, the baby was too hungry, i had.. mouth open, she sighs.
You should have thought of that, Ma'am, now tell me where do you really go when you leave?

The tall guy in blue now leads her to the door and she twists the knob and calls the girls.
Mama! one exclaims, tears sneak into the young woman's face. She holds both little bodies in her arms and begins to walk toward the hall.
I'll feed the baby now, she smiles back.
Ma'am? you can't do that, we need to take them for evaluation.
What? What for?.
To see if they are alright Ma'am.
Look! they are fine and healthy.
The tall one motions his partner out of the living room and down the drive. They argue. Baby is now demanding his milk. She grabs him from the wooden chest he sleeps in and runs to the kitchen.

This morning was a perfectly normal day, a too hot too soon day, early breakfast for the man, then up with the children. Fill the tub with hot water and powdered soap to wash the sheets. Pick up the beer bottles from the floor. Hang the clothes out over the edge and tidy up the cushions before getting the milk. The milk, it was all about milk she thought. The two men came back in, one sour, one apologetic.
Ma'am, this time, we'll let it go, but i'd watch out for folks if i were you, not everyone means well.
Tears run down her face and she buries her eyes in the pinafores, making giggly sounds, till baby wants bottle.

Daddy's home says the oldest without luster.
Both girls run outside as if pulled by a string.
Where's my beer?
I don't know.
Then you'd better get some.
I had to buy milk.
what d'you do with what i gave you yesterday?
They drank it, she lowers her head, i have something to tell you.
Well it'll just have to wait won't it? go get my beer. Did you wash my striped shirt?

The curtains moved as she passed by the neighbor's house. The pavement held the heat way into night.
By the time she returned, the beer was warm, the children were whining softly in the back room. Daddy was in a bad mood. She didn't see the two by four, just a flash right across the mid-section. Eyes wide, mouth opened, she gulped air as a beached carp. He left.

It must have been long past midnight by the time he returned. She could hear him cursing at the broken beer bottles. He mumbled some apology in the semi darkness.
Honey, i just had a rough day, you know? as he groped for her breasts.
She knew, she turned up the sheets and his mouth went slack like a rubber mask near high heat. She heard the front door slam. The echo resonated throughout the tidy stuccoed neighborhood, shaking respectability to its pretty foundations.

Mama?
A little whisper came from behind the door,
come in, i need you, now mama is very sick, so you have to heat the bottle in water, she breathed. okay, now, you don't spill, that's all we have.
Is that blood on the floor mama?
Yes, i have a hurt, don't worry, just help me, she said faintly, holding the little face in her palm.

By afternoon, life was over, the baby was covered in feces, the makeshift crib, the wall behind it and the blankets overboard, brown and smelly. Children's muffled voices came from the back room, milk dripped from the bottle in syrupy ooze. She pulled herself along the walls and ended up at the toilet. A car pulled into the drive.

The ivory robe was stained, the tub was smeared and she knew she had to open the door. She slid the shower door open and whispered out the little window.
Speak up Ma'am, i need your signature on this form, i represent the State.
She was through arguing, she pulled a towel across her hips and told the oldest to open the door.

Lights, white, piercing her consciousness with precise insult. She looks around through protective lashes and struggles to find shapes in the glare.
Well here you are! Number 13 alert!.
Two, three women stare, a white coat with pen and tablet, a rude finger opens her eye.
Fine, he barks hurriedly.
He leaves and the women fuss around the iron bed.
Where are my children?
We don't know that Ma'am.
Please find out, i have to feed them, the baby, what happened to my baby?.
Ma'am we are sure they are taken care of, you just relax and then we'll see.
No, no the one here, she rubs her stomach and cries out.
They leave one by one without hurry. Without answer.

Who is we? She reaches out to them.
The State Ma'am.

A young woman walks down Market street, pink sweater clinging to the flattest midriff, a little black skirt hugs her emaciated form, the only love she will taste. Her hands search the air as if someone suspended hope above her chest. She rubs her face to wipe a grimace away. Lips parted she whispers names down hallways as if they were secrets only known to her.
You should have thought of that before, she says to the wild eyed boy running past.
You should have thought of that before, she laughs at the man coming to slam her against the wall in the anonymous darkness.
Thank you Ma'am! he sticks a dollar in her sweater as if it were a favor.
What's your name again? He asks.
You should'a thought o' that before Ma'am, she answers flatly.

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