Free Emily Taylor - The Teenage Mum by Vi Grim

She's caught so many,
it's surprising that there's any left on the asteroid. As the end
of August approaches and the sun starts to lose its hard edge, the
few surviving cicadas run out of puff and their song falters and
dies.
     
If I've been wearing anything
all summer, it's been my lightweight summer dresses. They float
about me like I'm hardly wearing anything. Now the weather's
cooler, I need clothes, but nothing fits except my XXXL jumper. I
wrap myself up in a sheet and walk around the house being
Aphrodite, the Greek Goddess of fertility. What can I wear? I need
fat people's clothes.
'You could go to Zwingly and
see Coco?' suggests Jesus.
'No,' I say abruptly, 'I'm not
going to Zwingly.'
'You did get your fingers
burnt, didn't you?'
'Yes, it hurt. I don't want to
see James again and everyone else there will think I'm a
tart.'
'Do you really think they're
that interested in your life?'
'Well no, but I'm not
going.'
     
Coco arrives with her designer
friends. I make them tea and fresh melting moments and we walk up
to the bluff and all sit on the very edge throwing bits of banana
to the seagulls. They all have different ideas about what I should
be wearing, so ask me what I would like.
'I need more than one
outfit, so why don't you each of you make something,' I
suggest.
Back at the cottage I model for
them in my green knickers and they make sketches of me. Then they
dress me up. It's so amazing to watch them work. They pick weird
and wacky outfits out of thin air and sketch me wearing them. They
even draw some in my diary for me.
They measure me up and
disappear, arriving back a few days later for fitting. I'm a bit of
a moving target cos my bump keeps growing, but their outfits have
ample space for growth. Coco has made me a flowing burgundy dress
with a matching cashmere cardigan. Ozzie' creation is a bright
yellow jump suit. It's made out of fine velvet, with stretchy stuff
around the middle to support the baby, and has big zips and pockets
all over the place. Vidal has gone for a more casual look with a
pair of faded jeans that are stretchy at the waist and a loose
shirt and sweatshirt. Now I'm sorted. I like the yellow jump suit
most; it's so happy and bright.
It's so neat having all these
wonderful people turn up when I need something. I must do something
for Zeus one day to thank him for saving me. I thank Coco and
friends and they head off up the beach towards Azziz's cafe,
splashing in the waves as they go.
     
It's autumn, the time of
plenty, and there's lots to do in the garden. Jesus and a pack of
zinodes arrive and we work all day picking and pulling and
harvesting. The zinodes store the potatoes, onions and big orange
pumpkins in a shed built into the bank behind my house. It's nice
and cool in there and they'll last for ages. The rest they freeze
and preserve so I'll have plenty to see me through the winter.
I sing to my baby, I talk to
him, and play music to him. When he's in a playful mood he fights
back when I poke him. He plays football all night and sleeps all
day. I call him Zinzan, which quickly becomes Zinny.
When the first cold snap of
winter arrives, dusting the mountain with snow, Jesus and Azziz
come around and chop firewood, filling up the wood shed, then
piling the rest up against the wall of my living room, so it dries
out quickly.
     
My tummy is getting huge.
I wonder if this is what it is like to be a fat person. It must be
such hard work. Every movement is hard work and you can't see your
knees. My tummy button, which has always been an inny becomes an
outy. I push it back in but the baby pushes it out again. If I want
it to stay in, I have to walk around with my finger on
it.
I get a call from President
Obama. While I'm worrying about innies and outies, he has bigger
worries. He has an election on his hands and can't reach God.
'Sorry,' I say, 'God's not
talking, can I help?'
'It'll be the same as last
election; I just need a little divine intervention.'
'Get off,' I say,
'Oh please, my