It was late afternoon, but Blake, Ronan and I still walked the deserted streets of our town. The only signs or sounds of life were the occasional bark of Ronan's dog and the fair few answering barks that filled the air every time he did so. It made me sad to think of all the dogs that were locked in houses, all the rabbits, guinea pigs and hamsters trapped inside cages.. But I had to be realistic. Yes, it was sad. Yes, those animals might die. Well, maybe it wasn't a might, but I didn't like to think of it like that. No, we couldn't rescue them. Not every single dog, cat, hamster and white rat. It would take days.
Just as I was contemplating this thought, I caught a strangely familiar wailing sound coming from a house not far away from the street we were walking down. Suddenly, a lump formed in my throat. Tears welled in my eyes. I knew why the sound was familiar. It was the sound of a baby. Crying that it was lonely, hungry, scared. I broke into a run. Streaking a head of the startled Ronan and the clueless Blake, I soon located the source of the wailing. I rushed up to the door, forcing it open with my shoulder. I followed my ears up the stairs and through the open door into a nursery. In the cot stood a little boy who couldn't have been more than two or three years old. His brown curls were plastered to his head and his cheeks were streaked with tears. Without thinking, I rushed to the crib and scooped him up. Instantly, his wailing ceased.
"There, there." I murmured. "It's ok, little one. I'm here now, you aren't alone."
Blake and Ronan rushed through the door.
"A baby?" Blake said, a hint of displeasure in his voice. He had never much liked small children.
"What's his name?" Ronan asked. Looking around, I spotted a bookcase with a fancy nursery rhyme book on it. It had obviously been a present. I snatched it up and sure enough, inside was written in neat, calligraphy:
To our darling Louie on his first birthday.
Love, Grandma and Grandpa.
Under the writing was a date. 18/01/ 2008.
Sure enough he was two, nearly three. "Louie. His name's Louie." Louie's head turned at the sound of his name. I smiled at him.
"Is he staying?" Asked Blake irritably.
"Of course." I said. Then to Louie: "There now darling. You're safe with us. We'll take care of you."