✷✴✷
Weeks passed and Father didn't come back. Other people made scheduled phone calls to their family, or went to visitation. Everyday someone else packed their bags, ready and excited to go home.
I eventually received a form of communication. The letter was signed from my father, but I didn't recognize the handwriting.
Dear Ruth,
Ma came and helped me out. I saw our puppy in the pound when I was there. Your mother visited him too often. I will try to keep you updated. I’m sorry you’re in a kennel. I love and miss you. So does my kitten.
Love,
Daddy
Reese must have known all of my letters would be read in advance. His association of Dizzy as a kitten made surprising sense. I couldn't control my emotions had to run out of the common room, tears streaming down my face.
I was beyond relieved that our sacrifice hadn’t been for nothing. Reese and Dizzy could have the happy ending William and I had been denied.
I tucked the letter into my drawer with the one from Father. I mulled over the idea of Mother visiting William in prison and tried to imagine how she had behaved. I hoped she was some form of comfort to him.
I was a few days away from the second trimester. I had lost so much weight that the clothes Father brought me were loose. I didn't know how long I could hide the pregnancy, or even if I would be there long enough to need to.
I assumed I would stay until I gave birth and would be forced to return home with the bundle in my arms meant to bring me shame. I was to be like Hester from Scarlet Letter.
I shook my head. No matter what went wrong with my child I would never be ashamed of it. I lifted my shirt to see if I had a bulge below my belly button. I touched it gently, not knowing if the fetus could feel my fingers.
Abby gaped from our bedroom doorway, her eyes round and shocked as she took in my body-language. She looked into my face as I jerked my shirt back down. It was too late.
She rushed to me, shutting the door half way to give us some privacy. She turned to me and whispered, “You're pregnant? Do they know?”
“You can't tell anyone. The staff knows, but I don't want anyone else to.”
“Of course, but they will realize eventually.” The tears started again and I got frustrated with myself. “You have been crying a lot,” Abby realized. “Does William know?” I shook my head.
I told her of my fears about there being something wrong with my child.
She smiled knowingly, “There won't be anything wrong with it. It was made in love. And honestly, people who are more closely related have children in polygamy compounds all the time. Your baby will be perfect.” She pulled me to her in a hug. Though I knew she was trying to comfort me, I snickered.
She looked up from between my breasts and laughed with me.
Chapter 31- Honeysuckle
Nothing special happened in my days there. Nothing changed except my body as, day in and day out, I followed the same routine. The faces revolved until everyone began to look identical.
I recognized John one morning waiting in line to go to breakfast. He had gone home over a month before. When he noticed my curious gaze he gave me a nonchalant shrug. I suddenly understood what he meant when he had said no one comes to Lakeview merely once.
When I was allowed to go with a group to the art room one day I realized how large the facility was. I looked out the windows into a small courtyard and watched adult patients smoke cigarettes.
We had to walk through the cafeteria. I almost tripped and fell on my face from the shock.
Sitting along the tables were tiny children.
My heart broke as some looked up curiously. A little girl sank her teeth into the wrist of a staff member. The most haunting aspect of the little beings was the way most stared at the table with blank minds, or ate their food too slowly.
I recognized the over-medicated stupor in their eyes. Was that the future of my unborn child? An irrational paranoia gripped my mind.
What if they were trying to keep me until I had the baby? What if those children had been born there by mothers in similar predicaments? Would they keep my child?
I tried to shake the thought out of my head. A young girl with auburn curls and lifeless, black eyes met my stare.
I spun, breaking the line and the rules, and hurtled back towards our wing. People shouted and feet drummed on the linoleum as they chased me. I sprinted ahead, unable to see through the dark edges of adrenaline fueled fear, and almost slammed into the electronic door looking into our waiting area.
A heavy, blonde nurse with black roots stopped behind me. “What are you doing?” Her expression slipped from fury to sympathy.
I leaned against the wall but my knees gave. I slid to the floor, curling myself into a ball. My body seemed possessed by the despair, escaping in sobs. I no longer needed to protect my dignity. The minute power I had over myself released.
The months of pain and anguish tore through me as I bit into my knee, trying not to scream. The door buzzed open and two sets of strong hands lifted me.
I tried to protest, fearing the tiny concrete room where they were sure to take me. Instead, they carried me delicately to my room and laid me on my bed. A blanket settled over me and the lights turned off.
I tried to breathe but my heart was too broken. I tried to tell myself to stop, but nothing worked. Then I heard the voices behind me in the room.
“They must have told her.”
“I didn't think so, but I guess.”
“She doesn't even have a say. It's so sad. Do they already have a family lined up?”
“Yeah, someone close to her parents.”
My brain tried to push the words away but for some reason it helped my anxiety attack wane. Was that why I had been there so long? Were my parents throwing me away to another family?
I tried to turn toward the people in the room but my body wouldn't move. It was still suffering my heart.
“Her mother demanded it, said Ruth is too young to make the decision herself. She talked about her as if she owned the poor girl.”
“They want her to name the baby, though, before they take it.”
Hysteria climbed into a dangerous crest. My mouth opened in a silent scream. My lungs emptied as my body tightened to protect the unborn child.
I wasn't going to a new family. They were taking my child.
✷✴✷
I tried to call Mother. No one answered. I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Burnt, but he told me there was nothing he could do. Because I was underage, it was out of his and even my own hands.
I tried to fight.
No one valued the opinions and needs of a sixteen-year-old in a mental facility. I had no one to turn to. The whole world was bent on their knees at the feet of my mother.
One day I was rushed to the telephone. The nurse claimed someone important wanted to speak to me. My heart fluttered at the naive hope of it being William, or even Reese. I even expected it to be Dizzy before ever thinking it could be Mother.
“Hello?” I said into the plastic white receiver.
“Ruth.” The voice made me pull the phone away from my ear and cringe. I had almost forgotten how cruel she could sound. “Don't get attached. Stop trying to get people to help you keep it.” Vicious joy lifted her pitch. “This is the price you pay for destroying your family, for shattering my brother.”
“You haven't told him.” It was no longer a question.
“He's already devastated by what you've done to him. Why would I make his life even worse? How selfish can you be?”
Tears soaked the shaking receiver. I wanted to hang up but couldn't. A part of me knew she was right. I was disease incarnate. I wanted to hang up the phone but I couldn't.
“You don't deserve to have his child,” she hissed before hanging up. I stared at the wall and listened to the dial tone.
✷✴✷
My depression evolved into numbness. I ate when I was told, slept when I was told, walk
ed and participated as much as I could but I had lost my voice. I spoke when forced to, every damn day, in therapy during routine introductions.
“My name is Ruth, and I am here for mental trauma.”
Every single day.
The sound of my own voice seemed detached and my name felt foreign on my tongue. What kind of a name was Ruth?
I lost all sense of self.
One morning I climbed from the shower as Abby ran in. She halted and stared at me as if I were crazy.
“I was coming to warn you the hot water heater is busted. Weren't you freezing?” I shrugged. I hadn't noticed. I hadn’t felt anything.
I tried to do as Mother demanded. I tried not to instinctively reach for my growing stomach, I tried not to talk to the child being sewn together inside of me.
Three weeks into February I laid in my bed with the room glowing in afternoon sunlight. I had made it a habit to nap at free time when most of the others were in the common room. The doctors chalked it up to fatigue, a side-effect of pregnancy.
I listened to the laughter of girls down the hall, lying on my back and staring up at the ceiling.
A tiny poke from the inside of my tummy made me jump.
My heart quickened. My hands instinctively reached down, trying to feel it. I couldn't.
A wave of emotion washed over me as I stared at my stomach, waiting for it to happen again. I looked up to find Abby watching me from the sink. “What's wrong?” she asked. I smiled when she cocked her head. `
“I felt my baby.” She gasped and rushed over, placing her hands on my stomach. I laughed. “He's not big enough yet to feel like that.” Disappointment made her pout though amazement still sparkled in her eyes as she stared at my abdomen.
“He?”
I grimaced. “It.”
“When will you know?”
I realized I had no idea. I pulled myself up and walked out into the hall. Ms. Lucia looked up in surprise as I neared. She smiled as I sat in the chair across from her. “Everything ok, Ruth?”
“I was wondering if I was going to get an ultrasound of the baby done or not. Do you know?”
“Do you want one?” she sounded unsure.
“Yes.”
She got up and went into the glass office. I followed and watched from the doorway as she opened a large filing cabinet, and thumbed through it until she found an overstuffed folder.
She dropped the folder back into the drawer and lifted a phone. I heard her greet Dr. Burnt. She told him about my request and turned with a smile as she hung up.
“He already has one scheduled for next week.”
“Thank you.”
Her smile brightened as she watched my reaction. “I’m glad to see you moving, Ruth. You’re making it.”
I’m faking it.
Chapter 32- Carnation
Doubts flashed repeatedly along with worries if it was healthy or not for me to see the fetus. I simply had to know them, in however small of a way possible and regardless of how much it would hurt.
I was escorted outside the day of the appointment by two large orderlies in white scrubs to a white van. I sat in the back as instructed. One person already waited in the van. It was the boy who had bit another patient the day of my arrival. A harness constrained him to the seat.
As the door slid shut and the driver buckled himself, the boy turned his head to look at me.
“Gwap.” He stared at me as though waiting for a response.
I nodded my head. “Agreed.” It seemed to placate him.
The driver glared at him in the rear view mirror. “No talking,” he demanded.
I stared out the windows and watched the trees give to a commercial area. We were in the van for maybe ten minutes before arriving at a hospital. Four officers waited for us, two for each.
The boy was handcuffed as he was dragged through the van, digging his heels into the floor until a woman ran out of the building. She had short, light brown hair and deep wrinkles in her face. “Please cooperate, Donny.” The boy glared at her before poking out his bottom lips and begrudgingly obeying.
I waited, wondering if I was going to be cuffed too. An officer moved to the door of the van and offered a hand to help me climb out.
I was lead through the hospital to an elevator. We turned down a long corridor and one of my guards opened a door and stood back for me. A redhead looked up from behind a large desk.
“Fellows?” she asked directly to my guards. They nodded and she asked them to wait in the lobby.
She motioned for me to follow. She took my weight and I was surprised to find I hadn't gained much. I was fairly skinny compared to what I normally was but my stomach was beginning to stretch.
She led me to a dimly lit room and closed the door. She refused to meet my eyes. I stared at the equipment and jumped back when a movement in the corner startled me.
My father stood up from the chair he had apparently been snoozing in. I was shocked to see him but ran into his open arms. A sob escaped my lips as he rubbed my back. “I miss you so much,” he whispered in my ear.
“I thought you hated me,” I cried against his shoulder.
“I could never hate you.”
“Why is she taking my baby from me?” The disdain in my voice deepened as I spoke the words aloud.
“She says she's doing what's best for you.”
Sincerity glowed in his eyes. He truly believed her. He didn't know what she had told me on the phone. “Why haven't you come to see me?” I tried not to sound mean, but I had to understand.
“Elizabeth said they took your visitations away. Have they given them back yet?” The hope in his words made me feel guilty.
“I don't know,” I whispered.
An ultrasound technician entered and asked me to lie on the table. Father scooted his chair to sit close and hold my hand.
Worry lined Father’s face. I knew he wondered the same as I did. What would we find to be wrong?
Cold goo plopped onto my belly. The tech spread it around with what looked like a microphone. My eyes never strayed from the screen. Father squeezed painfully.
She paused as an image focused and took a picture of something blurry. She moved the instrument to take photo after photo as my adrenaline rose.
A perfect, angelic profile filled the screen. A perfectly round head, tiny nose, and puckered lips tore my heart to pieces. I couldn’t breathe through the pain, the most pleasant anguish I knew I would ever feel. I didn’t want to stop staring but she moved the camera.
The technician turned with a smile and clicked a button. Red and blue lights swarmed the screen.
“What is it?” I asked, anxiety coloring my tone.
“The blue is blood flow, but red is the oxygen-rich blood.”
“Is that normal?” Hysteria pitched my voice.
“Yes,” her voice was comforting as she reached up to pat my leg. “Everything looks beautiful.”
Tears of disbelief slipped from the corners of my eyes, dripping into my hair. She pointed at the little lines and zoomed the camera. “Those are arms. There is the head. The legs.” She pointed to every squirming part. She took a still and used the mouse to draw a small circle around an area. “And there is a penis.”
Father laughed. He stared at the screen in awe, his own face drenched in unashamed tears. He looked down into my eyes. “That's my grandson.” His voice was barely loud enough to hear, but pride poured from his eyes.
Softly, a fast rhythm filled the room. It grew stronger and I realized it was coming from the large machine. The technician watched my face with excitement. Her smile flashed huge as my eyes overflowed.
I could hear his heartbeat.
The woman stood and handed me three little pictures that looked like thin Polaroids. There was a picture of my son's perfect profile, his whole body, and I chuckled at the last picture with the circle announcing a penis.
Father hugged me as a paper cloth cleaned my stomach. “What are you going to name him?” he
asked, pulling back.
Disappointment sunk into me as I remembered the condition of his adoption. The strangers who were stealing my baby wanted me to name him. I stared at Father. “You’re going to allow this to happen?”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair, never releasing my hand. “Your mother is a difficult woman. She could do a lot of harm to someone if she wanted.” His eyes silently begged for me to understand.
“Is she threatening you?” I couldn't help but feel shame, putting my father through that.
“Not me.” His voice filled with trepidation. “If you don't go through with the adoption, she is going to have William tried again for rape. She says he would get life without parole if it weren't for her help, but she would do it to him.” He hung his head.
I could feel the technicians horror radiating through the room at Father's words.
He stifled a cry of his own, “I love William, regardless of what the two of you have done. I love you both. He doesn’t deserves to be where he is. He was simply trying to give you a good life. I’m so sorry baby.”
My father was a pawn. I could never be angry towards anyone who cared so much about William.
I stood and clung to Father. We hugged until a hand rested on my shoulder and a voice said, “It's time to go, sweetie.” I looked up to see the guards and nodded, drying my face.
Father kissed my cheek and told me he would come to see me as soon as I got my visitation back. Both guards threw him bewildered glances.
I climbed into the van, noticing Donny’s absence. My guards waved goodbye before sliding the door closed. The driver turned the engine over and we drove back to Lakeview. I wanted to ask where the boy was but he saw my question and shook his head, telling me I didn't want to know.
That night, as everyone trudged to their rooms, I stopped Mr. Allen. “Has my visitation privileges been revoked?”
He snorted, “Of course not. You're one of the best patients we've ever had.”
Truth Page 20
