Why You Were Taken

BABY STARTER KIT ₃₄

Johannesburg 2021

The heavy-set man, clad in charcoal jeans and polished workman boots, looks completely out of place in bright and bonny BabyCo. He is standing before a twirling display of sippy cups that plays a childish song and ends in a forced giggle. He wishes there were more customers so that he could at least attempt to blend in. The cheerful products on the shelves seemed to age right in front of him. It was like browsing in a pastel-shaded ghost town.

He knows he is excellent at his job, but this isn’t his job; this is the antithesis of his job. If there was a polar opposite of what he was good at, this would be it. But he is not one to shirk orders.

He grabs a blue silicone beaker with an animation of a sniggering snowman on it and slings it into his basket. He hopes no one he knows will see him in here. It would be difficult to explain. Another reason he gave in motivating for ordering this all online, but The Doctor said no. It was urgent, he had said, and he didn’t want any kind of papertrail. Moving towards a new aisle, he jumps when a BabyCo-bot surprises him on the corner. The bot is clown-themed: wide eyes, red nose, grotesque painted-on smile. A uniform of bright, clashing colours and a hyuck-hyuck-hyuck chuckle. Scary as hell, thinks the man. No wonder this shop is a graveyard.

‘Congratulations!’ effuses the robotic shop assistant. ‘May I give you a hug?’

‘Not unless you want your arm broken,’ the man says.

‘Pregnancy is such a special time. You and your baby deserve the very best!’

The man tries to walk past the bot, but it blocks his way.

‘What can I help you with?’ the clown says, glowing and hyuck-ing at him.

The man growls.

‘We have great specials on disposable nappies!’ shrieks the machine, lighting up. ‘A pack of 40 newborn-sized diapers for only 999! Get 2 packs for 1750!’

It assaults his ears with a tune.

The man pushes up his sleeves, cracks his knuckles. Moves his head from side to side. Indulges in a quickie fantasy where he snaps the bot’s neck with a flick of his wrist, and drags its body to the stuffed toy section, to later frighten some kids.

The daydream perks him up. He takes a deep breath.

‘I need a…’ but he trails off. What does he need? If he knew, he wouldn’t be standing around here like a gimp.

‘Yes?’ says the bot, desperate to help.

The man realises his scarred arm is showing, and pulls his sleeves down. A scar like that has no place in BabyCo.

‘I need a… starter kit. For babies.’

‘Can you repeat that please?’

‘A starter kit.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t get that.’

‘Everything you need when you’re… you know. Expecting.’

‘You need everything?’ the bot asks. ‘I can help you with that!’

It spins around and starts taking products off shelves, scanning the barcodes on its chest as it goes. A packet of glow-in-the-dark dummies, an Insta-Ice teething ring, a self-regulating temperature taglet. A swaddling blanket puffed up with clouds and zooming with planes. The BabyCo-bot stops and its head swivels around to look at the man.

‘You’re going to need a bigger basket.’