I live on Minbar. I like it here. I love it here. It’s a beautiful planet,
with many wonders.
Delenn and I have not been married very long, but it feels like forever. When
the ISA HQ was completed, we moved right in and the public eye kept us busy.
For the next month our life was a flurry of interviews and overall fame for
helping create the new alliance. David was born, another flurry of interviews.
Okay, it was fun while it lasted and everything settled down.
You’d think. I’m out in public with my son. He is in my lap, smacking the
report flimsy I was trying to read. Delenn didn’t want me taking work along so
I guess I deserve this. I give up, begin eating a fruit salad and taking sips
of coffee while at the same time avoiding the flailing little arms of David.
Yeah, he’s a baby, and those are amazing beings, but do people have to stare at
him?
Haven’t people seen fathers with their babies in public before? Do they get
up early to track my movements and see where I’ll be? I mean, my dad used to
take me everywhere on Saturdays, and instead of staring, folks said hello.
I must digress. This has nothing to do with Minbar. Anywhere I take my
family we tend to get stared at. I guess they are thinking, Is that the great
president, John Sheridan? Or maybe they are thinking, Wow, what a trophy wife.
If only I could tell them. Hell, Delenn would even tell them, I’m not so great.
She IS great. My wife deserves the attention for more than one reason, and
she’s no trophy but she is a great woman to be with each night.
To these people I want to say, stop. I want to say, look at me, I’m a regular
guy who just happens to be president. I’m holding my baby boy in public and,
sure, I am older, grayer than I used to be. Age does that but it doesn’t change
the fact that I do have a son. I love him and I will protect him, no matter the
threat.
Instead I say nothing. Delenn teases me for being a man of silence. It’s my
nature. I found along the last few months that being stared at bothers me more,
because of David. Also, saying nothing gives those who gawk nothing to feed on
or throw to the press. No bones. I don’t care to shorten my outings because
someone can’t keep their eyeballs in their head or their mouth shut.
Sometimes, I do speak to people, or pose with them. If I feel they are
genuine and not invading, stalking. I don’t know what I did to deserve this. I
am just another guy with a baby. Maybe that’s the more rare thing. If that’s
the hero they seek, they’ve found me.
After a while, the flood of passersby to this outdoor café dwindles to a light
stream and it’s time to move on. Delenn told me of the Day of Fathers a few
weeks ago and I instantly thought it would be wonderful to bond with our son,
show him our world, and allow Delenn a little time to gather her thoughts and
not have to see to the needs of our child. There are a lot of other fathers and
children out. Later in the day, there is a small celebration outside and we
will reunite with her there. I know she’ll have missed the daddy/son team of
David and me.
When Delenn takes the baby out, I feel the compound is too empty, and I cannot
wait till they return. I clean up, duck my napkin into the garbage can
(littering is not good, David) and signal to the Rangers around us that we need
to move on, with the baby’s approving (I think) gurgles to keep me company.
The End
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: The Babylon 5 characters do not belong to me and I don’t own them, nor do I profit from this story. The characters belong to J. Michael Stracynski, Warner
Brothers and Babylonian Productions.
Brothers and Babylonian Productions.