[ WP ] Long Ago , God sent his son Jesus to Earth . Now , Satan sends his daughter , Jessica ...

Maria and Suliman Sabah Yildizi were expecting their first child, and boy were they excited. Their birth plan was drawn up, the hospital reserved, the midwife allocated to them. So when the call came from the President to up sticks and move, there was a spanner thrown in the works alright. There was to be a national census. All people were to head back to the city of their birth. 
 
 At least, that was Maria and Suliman ’ s understanding. Both spoke excellent English, but their grasp of American idiom left something to be desired. So when the Presidential Executive Tweet announced that they should ‘ Fuck off back to where they came from ’, Suliman and Maria mistakenly packed up their six year old Chevrolet and headed for Boston, where Suliman was born, rather than Istanbul, the city of his parents ’ birth. 
 
 Arriving rather late on a Friday night in Boston is never wise. Problems finding suitable accommodation for an eight and a half month pregnant lady were exacerbated by the simultaneous hosting of a folk festival and the NRA annual conference in that fair city. Everywhere was booked; Days Inn, Comfort Suites, Bets Western, Hilton……even the Holiday Inn was sold out. Eventually, a bar owner named Sam took pity on them, and told them they could hunker down for the night in his beer cellar. 
 
 About an hour after making herself comfortable on some cardboard packaging, Maria felt the first telltale signs of her uterus getting fed up with it ’ s tenant. She tried all the tricks from the prenatal classes - calm thoughts, deep breaths, estimates of the cost of a university education in 2035 - but nothing was going to halt this sucker. Suliman had popped out to try to locate the nearest census registration office, so he could be first in the queue in the morning. Eventually, Maria ’ s discomfort and cries brought her to the attention of a grumpy, wiseass barmaid, a fat office worker and a drunken mailman. They all attended Maria as best they could. The barmaid had had six - or was it seven - kids of her own, so she was able to guide Maria through what turned out to be a rather uncomplicated birth. The drunken mailman had a pocket knife and some cable ties with him, neatly taking care of any issues with the umbilical cord. The fat guy mostly disappeared and wandered back with fresh beers, but his presence was comforting. Suliman arrived back in time to see his new baby daughter feeding at her mother ’ s breast, the pair a radiant picture of health. The baby was wrapped in the torn up remnants of a US Mail sack. 
 
 The barmaid, drunk guy and mailman made their exit quietly, to allow the newly formed family time to bond. The drunk left a new packet of unopened peanuts. The barmaid had brought some water - spring, un gassed, in pretty green glass 275ml bottles. The mailman presumed his gift of the mail sack was adequate, and left it at that. 
 
 ‘ Oh boy, I missed it! I ’ m so sorry honey, ’ said Suliman. ‘ I couldn ’ t find a registration office anywhere. And when I asked, nobody seemed to understand me. I ’ m beginning to wonder if this census is even a thing ’ 
 
 He gazed down lovingly at the two most important people in his life. ‘ Hello Jessica, ’ he said to his new baby daughter, his eyes brimming with tears of happiness. Then to Maria, ’ I love you honey. She is perfect. ’ 
 
 ‘ Well, almost, ’ said Maria. She looked down at the baby, and moved the sack/blanket to show Suliman their daughter ’ s lower back and spine. ‘ See - she ’ s got this cute little tail…. ’
