Bates

7

   Norman was what one might call a "colicky" child. He cried so often sometimes that Norma herself swore he would never stop. Will seemed to take it in stride, but the baby's mother was afraid of loosing her sitter.

   "I'm sorry, Mr. Decody. I don't know what makes him like this," she said, bouncing him from one hip to another.

   "It's alright Ms. Bates. I don't mind it much-- sometimes babies just cry, that's what Emma's doctor says."

   "I wish there was something I could do to calm him," she muttered, trying now to rock him instead. Her gaze drifted to the ceiling; she suddenly felt incredibly helpless. "I should just take him back to the room. There's no way I'm going to be able to clean motel rooms like this."

   "I'm sorry that I couldn't be more helpful," he said, guiding Dylan towards the door.

   Norma noted that there was no one at the front desk. She took Norman's crib in and placed it behind the desk, deciding to work from there. "You can stay here, if you want," she told Dylan, "Or you can come to the front desk with me."

   "I wanna watch cartoons in the room."

   "That's fine, just lock the door and don't let anyone in until I get back."

   Norman continued to cry. Norma wanted to cry. It bothered her that her son could not be calmed; it made her feel incompetent. Her work was far from over, as there were people pouring into the Motel. Most of the visitors glared at her judgingly, while others looked on with sympathy. She greeted them all the same way, telling them that she was happy they had chose to stay at the Seafarer, and to "please excuse the screaming child in the background" in so few words.

   Mrs. Summers eventually came to get her. "My goodness, dear, how long has that child been fussing?" she asked.

   "He's been like this for three hours," she said. "Will and I took him to the doctor. As far as they know, nothing's wrong with him, he just-- cries, a lot."

   "Keith was the same way. I'll tell you what, why don't you go buckle him in the vehicle and we can go for a drive, okay?"

   Norma nodded. She retrieved Dylan from the Motel room-- he asked why her makeup was smudged.

   "I haven't had time to fix it. Your brother won't stop crying, so you, me, and Mrs. Summers are gonna go for a drive."

   Dylan switched off the television reluctantly.

   The three drove further into town with no map other than their own minds. Dylan chatted away to a subdued Norman in the back seat...Mrs. Summers had something she wanted to talk to Norma about.

   "How's it been...you know, working at the motel?" she asked.

   "It's great," she told her, sounding a little more enthusiastic than how she really felt. "It's an easy job-- I mean, not too easy, but easy enough that I can take care of the boys, you know," she said. Her thoughts drifted to Alex. "Oh, I should tell you, Deputy Romero was at the motel today."

   Joyce looked concerned. For a moment, Norma worried that she would be chided for not telling her sooner.

   "He was pretty beat up, so I took him in to clean up his face," she said, "He asked if I knew where Keith was. He didn't seem too worried, in fact, I think he would've stayed around if it wasn't getting so late," Norma's gaze turned to Norman and Dylan. They were both fast asleep in the back of Joyce's car.

   She sighed. "One more thing to ask Keith about," she muttered. The older woman must have noticed the worried expression on Norma's face, for her next words were more carefully chosen, "It's not your fault, I can tell a stressed mama when I see one. You've got quite the handful with these two."

   Norma had turned in her seat and was gazing at her sons lovingly. "I love them so much-- I want the whole world for them. I'm hoping that sometime soon we'll be able to get ourselves a place...not that I don't appreciate the favor, it's just..."

   "A motel room is not the place to raise children, I know."

   The conversation was interrupted by the blue lights of a cop car. Mrs. Summers pulled to the side of the road carefully, racking her brain for whatever might have happened to get them pulled over.

   Alex Romero shuffled out of his car. "What are you two ladies up to tonight?" he asked.

   "Just taking the girl here for a ride...trying to calm a baby. How about you?"

   "Standard patrol. I'm kinda bored, to be honest."

   Norma chuckled.

   "Any reason for you stopping us, officer?"

   "I just wanted to be sure it wasn't an emergency," he said, winking at Norma. She giggled again, and his eyes met hers before he suddenly appeared to be serious. "Have you seen your son in the last twelve hours?" he asked.

   "No, Norma was just telling me that you needed to speak to him. Care to tell me if it's serious?"

   "Nothing too bad, just personal matters."

   "I am his mother. It doesn't get much more personal."

   Romero chuckled. "Just let me know if you see him, okay?"

   "I will."

   "He's always so serious," Norma stated, rolling the window back up.

   "He can't help it, dear. It's just the way he's always been."

   Norma surpressed a huff. "So, you've known him for a while, then?" she asked, leaning an arm against the doorframe.

   "His mother-- was a dear friend of mine," she said. Her voice was edged with grief. "She passed away three years ago...committed suicide. Theresa wanted to see the good in everyone; it burned her up to find out--" Joyce visibly paused.

   Norma placed her hand in the older woman's lap. Joyce took it and squeezed it. Tears formed in her eyes. "This is not a good place for you, Norma Bates. We really should have never let you come here," she warned. The change in her demeanor terrified Norma, yet she kept a calm expression on her face. "You never should have come here."