Horton knew absolutely nothing about children, but there he was, saddled with a baby that wasn't his. Finally, that evening, after Ellie's shrill cries grew even shriller, he approached Gigi, Bella, and Ria, the three back up singers, in the hope that they would have some advice for him.
"Is she yours?" asked Ria.
"We don't know anything about children." Said Bella.
"She's really cute, though." Gushed Gigi.
"But we can't help you here."
"tough luck. You could - "
" – have said no, you know."
"But I guess Mayzie can do that."
" So its your problem."
" Sorry." Said Ria. "You're on your own here, Hort. They giggled, and went back to applying their mascara. Horton sighed, and logged on to his laptop to look up childcare.
So Horton did his best, feed the girl when she was hungry, changed her when she was dirty, and hoped that for the rest of the time she'd sleep. But days slipped into each other, and their stint at the Seuss was drawing to a close. And still Mayzie hadn't returned. It had been almost two months, and Horton hadn't heard anything from the mother of the little blonde girl with her thumb in her mouth, sleeping peacefully in the back room.
Between the band and the child, Horton had very little time on his hands. And although he still sat down with his guitar in whatever spare time he could muster, his song would not come, his mind was a blank. He was searching for his one song, his hit, the song that awakened the yearning in his chest. He knew that once he found this song, he'd find himself. He churned out songs for them to sing every night, songs that shook the room and made people sing along and smile. He was talented, no doubt about that, but those songs didn't count for him, not if they were the songs that kept them out of debt. His song wouldn't be like that. It would be the song that was written for the emotion, not the money. But no matter how hard he searched, it would not come to him. The words might flow, but the emotion was gone. Somewhere inside himself, he wondered if the return of Mayzie and the removal of Ellie would spawn his song, and so he hoped even more fervently for his former girlfriends return.
"Horton?" Gertrude poked her head around the door. It was almost midnight, one of the few moments he'd been able to snatch for himself in over a week. He was hunched over his guitar, occasionally strumming a cord or two. He glanced up at her with those gorgeous eyes, and smiled a fleeting, tired smile.
" I brought you a coke."
"How's your song going?"
" Not to good."
"That's to bad. Need any help."
"No –well, actually, yes."
"Yes? What for?" her heart speed up to the speed of cheetah, racing over mils of pointless savannah to her only love.
" Well, listen, Gertrude, have you heard from Mayzie?"
Gertrude nodded, slightly thrilled that he was asking her for help, but annoyed that it was about Mayzie. As always.
"She sent me a postcard." Gertrude admitted, thinking of the cheesy, smiley card that had came in the mail the other day. kisses and laughter from palm beach wonderful weather cute guys xxxxxx mayzie. "She's in Palm Beach, or, at least she was the other day."
"Palm beach? Do you know when she'll be back?"
"Jesus, Gertrude, what if she never comes back?"
"I'm sure she will." Said Gertrude, although in all honesty she was quite more positive of the opposite. Horton sighed. Time was running out, and they'd have to leave the Seuss soon. He was stuck between his career, and this tiny, technically motherless, baby.
"What do i do?" he asked Gertrude, in a last ditch attempt to gather his sanity.
"You do both." She said. "what other choice to you have?"
Ad so time went on.