by Jamie Mackay
***
"You got this?" Sam called out to her recently hired manager. The busiest restaurant in town now required a second in command to keep all of the operations running smoothly.
"You betcha boss. Go!" was the only response she received.
Sam drove like a maniac to get to the hospital where Tatum had already checked herself in and changed into one of the lovely hospital smocks that left most of her backside exposed. She smiled at her sweet, beautiful best friend.
"You ready?"
"Like I've never been ready for anything in my life," answered Tatum with a confidence Sam had come to know and respect.
.
As she expected, labour was long and hard, but worth every bit. When she was done, the nurses wheeled her up to the maternity floor, baby in hand and best friend walking proudly beside. The nurses helped the new mom onto the bed and then the youngest nurse asked, "How do you feel about visitors?"
"Bring them in," the proud parent beamed.
Brady came in first. He ran at Tatum and jumped up on the end of the bed.
"Can I hold him?" he blurted.
"Of course," answered Tatum as she handed Brady his tiny new brother. "Hold him tight," was her only request before she turned to the rest her company.
Tatum was surrounded by the faces of those she loved. Sam still by her side, Mr. and Mrs. Mackinley kissed and hugged their new grandson and his mother. Vinnie and Maria squeezed Tatum in their typically over-zealous fashion, and then Jennie passed Tatum a bouquet of flowers and gave her a peck on the cheek. Milligan hugged her tight with the same paternal pride he'd given Tatum since they day they first met. Finally, James walked clumsily over to the bed and wrapped his gawky arms around Tatum as he laid his head on her chest.
"What you call him?" he asked his dear friend from his uncomfortable head-down stance.
Tatum lifted James' face so that she could speak directly to him.
"I call him Jake. Everyone, please meet Jake Mackinley."
George pulled his hanky out of his pocket to pass to his wife. She needed it to wipe her tears.
Tatum bent down and gently took the baby from Brady's proud grasp. She looked up slowly at Jake’s mother and carefully passed Carol her newest grandson. As she passed Jake to his grandmother, she quoted the words of the love she'd lost.
"He lost his father before he was born. He will always know his father through this place and its people."
Epilogue
Although all of the events, characters, and places in this book are entirely fictional, the ideas came from more than only the author's imagination. Weyburn Mental Hospital, later called Souris Valley Care Facility, opened in 1921. At the time of its opening, it was considered one of the largest buildings in the British Commonwealth. Sources say that, at its peak, it housed somewhere between 2500 and 3000 patients and was considered to provide the "cutting-edge" of mental health treatment.
Historical accounts talk about treatments and experimentation that would be the bane of any current research ethics board. Stories include drug experimentation, "work and water" as described in the novel, insulin, LSD, electro-shock, and lobotomy. Other accounts talk of patients who were committed, not because they were mentally ill, but because they simply didn't "fit-in" with the outside world. The most horrifying of stories include incidences of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse.
After the deinstitutionalization movement in the 1980's, the building was altered to become a long-term care facility and then was eventually demolished in 2009. Before it was demolished, stories of haunting by tortured and abused patients were common.
My summers in Weyburn often involved visits to the large, red-bricked, remarkable facility. Although only a child, I was fascinated by the scope and history of the infamous institution and its stately, well-groomed grounds. I would often feel as if I were part of a movie set as I walked down the long lane that led to the extraordinary structure whose circumference was said to be more than a mile. In comparison to its small farm town surroundings, the estate-like property seemed eerie and out of place. As I would walk, I would think about stories told by family members who had been employed in the institution in the days no one likes to talk about. That place and those true stories were only the beginnings of the tales I would one day weave.
