A story of someone who can, and someone who can’t, take advantage of a golden opportunity, and of the power of longing to believe…
by: Mark Mitchell
Lisa sat at the edge of the examination table, her hands in a white knuckled grasp on the padded cushion. She let out an exasperated breath and sucked back in air. She repeated the deep breath several times before holding it in again for as long as she could. The clock on the wall ticked away her progress. The door opened and her doctor walked in.
Dr. Lukas flipped a page of the file in his hand before looking up over the rim of his glasses to see Lisa still in the room.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dr. Lukas said. He glanced at the number on the door to make sure he hadn’t made some sort of mistake. “I didn’t know you were still here, Mrs. Henderson. I thought you would have left by now.”
Lisa looked up. Her eyes had become bright red and puffy. Her bottom lip trembled. She appeared as if she had been crying, though no tears streaked her face.
Dr. Lukas closed the file and held it at his side. He assessed Lisa’s physical appearance and said, “I know this wasn’t the news you’d been hoping for. But there still are other options. Adoption is nothing to be ashamed of. I myself was adopted when I was–”
“There must be a mistake,” Lisa said. She released her grip on the table. The paper underneath her crinkled back into form. Lisa’s eyes darted around the room. “I’m too young to have gone through menopause.” Her jaw bounced as she figured out the next thing she wanted to say. “Maybe my test results got mixed up with someone else’s. Surely we could try again. Right, Doc? Maybe it was a bad test. Please there must be–”
Dr. Lukas held up his palm.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but we ran the test a few times. Each time the results came back the same. I really am sorry, but in my professional opinion, you will never be able to conceive a baby.”
Lisa lept off the table, startling the doctor. He backed away instinctually.
“Screw your professional opinion,” Lisa spat at him. “What do you know anyway? Lisa pulled the strap of her purse back onto her shoulder where it had fallen off. “You think because you have this big, fancy office that you get to control people’s lives?”
“Mrs. Henderson, perhaps you should–”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Lisa stomped toward him. He found the wall against his back. “You’re supposed to help people.”
“Janet!” Dr. Lukas called through the open door to his assistant out front. “Janet, I need you!”
Lisa grabbed the lapels of the doctor’s white coat. She pulled him to her.
“You have to be able to do something to help me,” she said.
“There’s really nothing–” he started to say, then, “Janet! Where are you?”
“I will have a baby.” Lisa’s eyes burned with intensity. “One way or another, I will have a baby.”
“Janet!”
A woman of short stature and uneven bangs, entered the exam room right as Lisa let go of the doctor. Lisa bursted into tears finally. The doctor straightened his coat and tried to soothe his flushed complexion.
“I really am sorry, Mrs. Henderson,” he said. He turned to his assistant and lowered his voice. “Make sure she leaves.” He went out of the examination room.
Janet escorted Lisa from the office, giving her a tissue as a parting gift, and left Lisa out in the hallway. The frosted glass door closed firmly.
Lisa sniveled looking up and down the hall, thankful no one was around to see her. She blotted her eyes and blew her nose in the tissue she would surely be billed for. She put the balled up tissue in the trashcan by the bank of elevators and took the stairs down to the lobby.
Lisa’s used Dodge caravan — a perfect companion for a growing family — was parked across the street. A fruitful spot that hardly ever seemed to open up, and what Lisa had thought would be a good omen for her coming appointment.
She gazed absently at her vehicle before the urge to walk came over her. She didn’t know why she had the impulse to hoof it the three miles back home through the city and suburbs, but something inside told her that’s what she needed to do at this moment. So tightening the neck of her coat, and renewing the strap of her purse atop her shoulder, Lisa stepped out onto the crowded sidewalk with the intent of heading home.
Passers-by made room for her as she skirted around the pulse of the city. Men jogging with headphones on. Women on business calls. The elderly out for the warmth of the afternoon sun. They all passed her without a second glance. To them she was a nobody. And that’s how she felt to herself.
A mom with three children of her own stumbled out of the toy store next to the pharmacy. All three children appeared to be within about a year to their next of kin. With two of the children a safe distance from the store, the third child attempted to run back in. The mom retrieved the kid only to see another one had decided to head back into the store. With only two hands, the mom couldn’t prevent all three from disregarding her wishes.
The struggle touched at the corners of Lisa’s mouth as she watched the antics of this mysterious family. She longed to have such difficulties in her own life. Doctor Lukas’s words came back to her and the dark cloud once more covered what would have been a sunny disposition.
The mom finally got all three kids going in the same direction, away from the toy store, and walked by Lisa. The mom blew the hair off her forehead in an exasperated act of fatigue.
“Kids,” the mom said as she went by. “If you don’t have any, I envy you.”
The kids dragged their mom down the street where they folded into the crowd and out of sight. Lisa watched them go before continuing on her trek home.
The stream of people passed by in a blur of color. A few bumped into Lisa, but did nothing to impede her progress out of the city. Soon the crowd thinned and Lisa had ample room to plod along in unencumbered sorrow.
She walked by the corner grocer and paused at the mouth of the alley behind the store. A muffled cry had penetrated her thoughts, bringing her back to the moment. Lisa gripped the strap of her purse as she peered into the dimly lit alley. If she wasn’t mistaken, the cry had come from the dumpster pressed up against the brickwall.
Lisa looked over her shoulder for someone else to confer with, to see if they heard the crying too, but no one was around.
The shrill bleating continued from the dumpster.
With timid steps, Lisa approached the source of the crying. The right half of the dumpster’s lid had been raised and leaned against the brickwall allowing Lisa to see inside.
There were stacks of bundled up trash bags of black and white. There were also clumps of rotting produce giving splashes of color. Lisa rested a hand on the filthy rim of the dumpster and looked in.
The muffled cries came from under one of the trash bags. She lifted it away and tossed it to the other side of the dumpster. With the bag removed, Lisa discovered what had been making the sounds that stopped her from walking past.
A baby, swaddled in lettuce leaves, cried out. It’s cheeks reddened by the relentless pleas. Tears streamed down the baby’s face. Without a second thought, Lisa reached into the dumpster and removed the baby.
She cradled the baby in her arms and all at once the cries were stifled. Lisa smiled down at the child, and once the child opened his eyes, he smiled back with a soft cooing. A sound much more pleasant than the crying had been.
“Hello, little fella,” Lisa said. She wiped away smudges of moldy vegetables from his face. “Where did you come from, huh?”
The baby gurgled an unintelligible reply.
Lisa held the baby in one arm while she finessed her coat off. She wrapped the baby in the coat to protect him from the chill of late afternoon.
“We better find out what happened to your parents,” she said, tickling the baby under his chin. She left the alley and stood in front of the corner produce store.
The door was locked and the gate closed over. A sign hung on the other side of the glass saying the owner had to close unexpectedly. The man must have left in the last couple minutes, because when Lisa first walked by she had seen him behind the register helping a customer.
“Well,” Lisa said. “Looks like you’ll have to come along with me for the time being.”
The baby giggled. Lisa took that as a confirmation.
“Good, I’m glad you think so too.”
She pulled the ends of the coat around the baby. He blinked his eyes and they slowly shut. He was tired and needed a nap.
When she got home Lisa made a spot on the couch to set the baby down. She surrounded him with pillows to prevent him from rolling off onto the floor. Her feet ached and she wanted to take her shoes off, but she couldn’t help watching the baby sleep. She listened to his soft breath. All of her pain from earlier in the day dissipated while she stood there.
Fifteen minutes had passed before she thought to look up the number of the grocer. She called and of course got the voicemail. She left a message about finding the child and gave a number where she could be reached. She then booted up her computer and navigated various sites on what to do with a newborn. Lisa didn’t exactly know how old the baby was, but he couldn’t have been more than a couple weeks, more likely a couple of days old.
While the baby slept Lisa prepared a bottle of warm milk. After a nap she was always hungry and thought the baby most surely would be too. She had no way of knowing the last time he ate.
Lisa carefully picked him up from the couch, trying not to wake him, and carried him and the bottle of warm milk upstairs to the spare bedroom. She pushed the door open with her foot and used her elbow to turn on the lights.
The spare bedroom was in the process of being converted into a nursery. Her and her husband had been trying for months to conceive and wanted to have a room ready in the event she would become pregnant. Decorating the room and buying things for a would-be-baby took her mind off the fact that it was harder to conceive than she thought it would be. After the appointment today, she now knew why it had been so hard.
Of the items they had already acquired, the crib proved to be the most useful to her now. Lisa laid the baby down inside the crib next to a cornflower blue stuffed animal of an elephant. She twisted the metal ring near the elephant’s hind quarters and a lullaby chimed out the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”
She crossed to a changing table on the other side of the room and from a stack of baby blankets she selected two of the softest ones from the bunch. As gingerly as she could, she removed her coat from around the baby and instead wrapped him in the blankets. He made a few fussy retorts, but didn’t wake up.
A couple hours later, the front door slamming woke Lisa up from a nap of her own. She jumped out of the rocking chair in the corner and checked to see if the baby had been disturbed by the loud crash. He still slept. A peaceful look on his face.
“Lisa,” a voice called from downstairs.
Lisa brushed the hair off her forehead and consulted her watch. It must be her husband home early from work. Time had gotten away from her. She hadn’t started dinner yet. Just another thing for him to be upset about. She rushed to the door, wanting to escape before he had a chance to come in and find the baby in the crib. She went out into the hallway.
“Lisa? Where are you?”
She latched the spare bedroom door, twisting the knob so it wouldn’t make a loud click. When she turned around, her husband was coming up the stairs.
“Lisa, are you home?” he called yet again.
She jumped to the otherside of the hall, making it appear she had been inside the master bedroom.
“Frank, that you?”
Frank let out a sigh of relief upon seeing his wife wasn’t harmed. He rushed to her and grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Thank heavens,” he said. He kissed her surprised face. “I was so worried. You haven’t been answering any of my calls.”
“I’m sorry,” Lisa said. “I laid down for a few minutes, and before I knew it, it was already dark out. I haven’t had a chance to start dinner.”
“I don’t care about dinner,” Frank said. He released his hold on her. “I care about you. Your car isn’t in the driveway. I thought maybe you had an accident or something. Is everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Lisa said. She glanced at the spare bedroom. “Why don’t we talk downstairs.” Lisa took her husband’s hand and led him away to where their voices wouldn’t wake the sleeping babe.
They settled on an easy dinner. Omelets and bacon. While Lisa prepared their meal she relayed the news doctor Lukas had given her.
“Lisa, honey,” Frank said, reaching to give her hand a squeeze, “I’m so sorry. I know how much starting a family has meant to you.”
Lisa smiled as best she could and shrugged it off.
“It’s alright,” she said. She cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl and mixed them with a splash of milk. “Could be worse. Besides, I’m sure something will come along.”
Frank eyed her with suspicion. For this type of news, she was taking it extremely well. Had he known this is what the doctor had to tell her, he expected her to be a wreck. Inconsolable at the very least.
Lisa dumped the whipped eggs into the skillet. They hissed against the cast iron. She even hummed while she did this.
“Lisa…”
She arched an eyebrow at her husband.
“Hmm?” she purred.
“Are you sure you’re ok?” he said.
“Yeah.” She smiled, this time a little stronger. “Why do you ask?”
“Because that’s some harsh news to get today.”
“It is,” she said. She used the spatula to fold the omelet. “But something else will come along. I have faith.”
She plated the food and they ate without further discussion. The whole time though Frank had a furrowed brow. As if his wife was keeping something from him.
Later that night, Frank woke to find Lisa wasn’t in bed next to him. He slipped on his bathrobe and discovered her sitting in the spare bedroom, rocking in the chair near the crib.
“Lisa, what are you doing in here?” Frank retied the belt of his robe. “Do you know what time it is?”
“I was just thinking is all.”
“Well come back to bed. You could use the rest.”
“I will,” she said. “In a few.”
He didn’t like the answer, but was too tired to put up a fight. Before he closed the door, he sniffed at the air.
“Something stinks in here,” he said.
“I’ll open the window to air it out,” Lisa said. “Probably just stuffy from being closed up all the time.”
He nodded and turned to leave. Lisa got up and stood at the crib. Frank gave her a curious look, but shook it off.
When Lisa did return to bed, Frank noticed she had brought the baby monitor with her. Its little red eye seemed to illuminate the room.
Lisa got up before her husband and went into the nursery — she had stopped thinking of it as the spare bedroom now that it was occupied. The baby was awake and holding onto his toes. He smiled when Lisa’s face appeared over the edge of the crib.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Lisa said. She scooped him up and cradled him in her arms. “Who’s hungry this morning?”
The baby cooed.
“I hope you like milk,” she said, taking him out into the hall. “I haven’t had time to go to the store to get you some formula.”
As she prepared a bottle of warm milk, Frank made his way downstairs. She sang a song while tickling the baby’s feet, unaware her husband was about to walk in.
“What the hell is this?” Frank demanded. Lisa whipped around.
“Honey,” she said, hiding the bundle of baby blankets behind her. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“It’s Saturday.”
In her parental bliss Lisa had forgotten what day it was.
“I was just making some breakfast for–”
“Lisa, please tell me you didn’t steal a baby?” Frank fought to look around her. Before he could get a glimpse, she snatched the baby away and covered him from sight.
“Keep your voice down,” Lisa said, turning away from Frank. “He has sensitive ears.”
“I can’t believe this,” Frank said, flabbergasted at what to say. “How…where…”
“I found him behind the grocers,” she said. “Someone left him in the dumpster. How can people be so cruel?” She looked down at the child, amazed at how he failed to become fussy over all the commotion.
“Lisa, you can’t just keep a kid you find in–”
“And why not?” Lisa said, challenging him. Her eyes widened in a defensive posture. “If someone else was willing to put him in there — where he would certainly die — then I have the right to give him a good home.”
“This isn’t some kitten you found on the street,” Frank said. He ran his hands through his hair. “This is a human being we’re talking about.”
“Yes, we are,” Lisa agreed. “And that’s why I intend to give him the best care I know how. That quack Dr. Lukas said I wouldn’t be able to have children of my own. Well, look at me now.”
“Lisa, dear.” Frank sucked in a breath. “This isn’t the same thing. I think we should alert the authorities. How do you know the kid wasn’t stolen from his parents and then dumped by the criminal?”
“Really, Frank?” Lisa pulled back the edge of the blanket so she could see the baby’s face, but careful not to let Frank see also. Frank’s red face would surely upset the baby, and knowing how loud the child could cry, Lisa wanted to prevent that at all costs.
“If you’re not going to call anyone,” Frank said, crossing to the phone, “then I will.”
“I left a message with the grocer last night,” Lisa said. It was enough to make Frank hang the phone back up. “They haven’t returned my call yet.”
“What’s the grocer going to know, huh?” Frank put his hands on his hips. “You should have called the police or someone with authority that could do something about the situation.”
“I’m doing something about the situation,” Lisa said. Her nostrils flared. “I can give this child better care than a deputy at the sheriff’s station could. They have enough to do without having to look after a baby.”
Frank sniffed at the air. He gasped as his eyes started to water.
“Jesus, the kid stinks,” Frank said. “He smells rancid. Like putrid garbage.”
“I haven’t had time to give him a bath yet,” Lisa said. “In fact that was on my to-do list for this morning. That and change him. Now that he’s had something to eat, he’s producing again. Now,” Lisa cradled the kid and pushed past her husband, “if you’ll excuse us, I’ll go draw a bath so your precious nose can suck some fresher air.”
“Lisa–”
Frank wanted to follow her, but the phone had begun to ring. Lisa had made it upstairs when Frank answered the phone. It was the grocer returning the message Lisa left the previous night.
The man said he had no idea what the message meant. He ran a respectable store and was very cognizant of what gets thrown away. He didn’t appreciate the joke and the next time they pulled a stunt like this, he would be forced to alert the authorities.
Frank stared at the phone in his hand for several seconds, unsure how to process what he’d just heard. Upstairs the sound of the bath kicked on.
When Frank entered the bathroom, Lisa had already bathed the baby and had him wrapped up in a fresh towel. The last of the rust colored water went down the drain. Lisa sang a song her mother used to sing to her when she had been a kid.
“That was the grocer,” Frank said upon entering. “He said he knows nothing about a baby being left in his dumpster. He thinks this is some kind of a joke.”
“You can see for yourself it’s not a joke.” Lisa lifted the kid to her shoulder and stood away from the tub. “Could you grab that diaper for me?”
Lisa left the bathroom and went into the nursery.
Frank glanced down at the counter where the diaper had been left. It appeared to be full. Some strings of orange pulp stuck out the sides. The diaper smelled horrendous. Frank gagged as he pinched the diaper between two fingers. He followed after his wife.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked.
Lisa stood at the changing table. Her back to him. She gave the baby a light sprinkling of baby powder to fight against rash.
“Take it outside, of course.”
Lisa bent down and possibly rubbed her nose against the baby’s. Frank couldn’t tell from his angle. The smell steaming off the diaper was all he could think about.
“We have to be united if we’re going to raise our kid together,” she said.
“It’s not our kid!” Frank pinched his nose. “We don’t even know who’s kid it is!”
“Would you keep your voice down?” Lisa glared at him over her shoulder. “I’m about to put Gordon down for a nap.”
“So you’ve named him now too?”
“Frank, please.”
In a huff Frank left to throw the diaper away in the outside garbage. He slammed the lid down on top of the can. From where he stood he could hear Lisa humming through the open window.
Frank dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He searched for a number on-line and made a call.
Lisa sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine while Frank fumed in his chair. He had a college football game on, but wasn’t paying attention. He kept shooting glances at his wife, willing her to look up at him. Right when he thought she might, she turned the page of her magazine and began reading the next article. On the table next to her, the baby monitor’s red eye seemed to mock him.
After a time Frank could no longer keep his feelings inside. To make conversation he said: “How come he never makes any noise?”
Lisa looked up from her magazine, unsure of what he was talking about. Frank indicated the baby monitor.
“Oh,” Lisa said. “He’s well mannered.” She flipped the page with an exaggerated flair. “Don’t tell me you’re mad now your son has a peaceful disposition.”
“He’s not my–”
Frank strangled the remote control. A vein in his forehead popped out. He turned off the TV and tossed the remote aside.
A knock sounded at the front door.
“Wonder who that could be,” Frank said. He jumped out of his recliner to go answer it. Lisa stayed in her seat though her interest too was piqued. She flipped pages automatically while trying to listen to who was at the door.
Frank let the strangers in and all three of them headed directly upstairs. As their voices dissipated in the living room, they grew in volume over the baby monitor next to Lisa. They were heading into the nursery.
Lisa tossed the magazine aside and raced to follow them. She used the banister to propel herself up the stairs and made it into the room before the strangers could wake little Gordon from his nap.
“What is going on here?” Lisa demanded.
The two strangers turned to face her. One was a middle aged man wearing a shirt and tie with a heavy coat over it, balding on top with a well kept mustache under his nose. The other was a stocky woman dressed in periwinkle. A sky blue scarf around her neck and dangling earrings on her lobes. They both look astonished at Lisa’s sudden appearance.
The woman turned to Frank for an answer.
“My wife,” he said. “She’s the one who found the baby.”
“Hi ma’am,” the woman said with a friendly smile. She took a step toward Lisa and extended her hand. “I’m very thankful you found him. The baby that is. You wouldn’t believe how many people try to dump newborns around–”
“Who are you?” Lisa snapped. “Are you the mother?”
“Me?” The woman placed her hands on either side of her blouse and exchanged a look with the strange man. The man smirked and twiddled his mustache ends. “No, I’m not the mother,” the woman said. “We are with the CPS, Child Protective Ser–”
“I know what CPS stands for.” Lisa pushed her way past the strangers and took up a defensive posture between them and the crib. “What are you doing here?”
“Your husband called in a tip this morning to let us know–”
“You did what?” Lisa turned her scorn to Frank.
“Lisa, you know we can’t keep this child. It’s not ours.”
“He’s not an it. He’s a him,” Lisa said. “And why can’t we keep him? If his parents didn’t want him, we are more than willing to give Gordon a good home.”
“That’s lovely to hear,” the woman said, “but that’s not how things work. There’s proper channels to go through when adopting a child.” The woman held a hand over her heart to show how compassionate she could be to Lisa’s plight. “We all want what’s best for the child.”
“Being here with me,” Lisa said, “is what’s best for him. He likes me, ok? He’s happy here.”
“Ma’am, would you step aside?” the man spoke for the first time. “Let us do our jobs.”
“No! You can’t have him.” Lisa reached out and barricaded herself between the slats of the crib. “He’s staying here, where he’ll be loved. I don’t want him getting passed around in the system all his life. Do you hear me?” Lisa raised her voice. “He stays here.”
“Lisa, come on,” Frank said. “Be reasonable.”
“I’ll deal with you later,” Lisa said. “You backstabber.” She practically spat at him.
The woman growing impatient signaled to her coworker to grab the child. With Lisa distracted by her husband, the man lifted Gordon out of the crib.
“Hey, you can’t do that,” Lisa said. The man turned his back on her so that she couldn’t pull at the baby.
The man peeled away the blankets wrapped around Gordon.
“What the hell’s this?” the man said. His face corkscrewed up with confusion.
The woman came over to take a look for herself. She turned to Frank and Lisa.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?” the woman said. “Children’s welfare is no laughing matter. We were doing you a favor coming out as quickly as we did, and this is the stunt you pull? What’s wrong with you two?”
Frank looked completely dumbfounded.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“This,” the man said. He pulled back the blankets to display the molding pumpkin in his arms.
“Is that a…”
“Yes,” the man said. “A pumpkin. A moldy pumpkin.” The man stared daggers at Lisa. “Where did you say you found the child again?”
Lisa had fallen to her knees, not paying attention to the turn in events. Tears streamed down her face. She clutched the leg of the crib and turned away.
“I’m really sorry,” Frank said. “I had no idea. Honest.”
The man and woman exchanged angry glares and both turned to leave.
“Next time you want to play a joke on someone,” the woman said. “Think better about it. I’m disgusted by…”
She didn’t finish her sentiment. She threw her hands in the air, to wave off all responsibility. The two CPS agents went out into the hallway.
Lisa stumbled to her feet to chase after.
“You can’t take him,” she said. “You can’t. He belongs here with us.”
“Lisa, let it go.” Frank held her back. She struggled against his grip.
“Don’t let them take him,” she pleaded. “Don’t let them take him!”
The CPS agents were halfway down the stairs now.
“He’s crying,” Lisa said through her own tears. “Can’t you hear him? He’s crying for me. Please, Frank. Do something.”
The front door opened.
“He’s crying,” Lisa said again. “Your son, Gordon. He’s crying. Listen.”
Lisa stopped fighting and fell to the floor. Frank looked down at her, then down the stairs where the agents would be walking out the door. He shook his head, taking pity on his miserable wife. Then he stopped and cocked his ear.
He did hear crying.
Could it actually be…
Frank ran down the stairs after the two agents.
“Wait,” Frank yelled. “Wait up.”
The agents stopped and turned, allowing Frank to catch up with them.
“What is it now, Mr. Henderson?” the woman said, coldly.
Frank swallowed a lump. He could hear the baby crying and squirming in the strange man’s arms.
“Can I see him,” Frank said. “Please?”
The man rolled his eyes, but handed over the molding pumpkin, glad to be rid of it. The bundle reeked. The two agents got into their car. As the man closed the door, he said:
“Some people.”
They drove away, leaving Frank standing on the curb with the bundle of blankets. The baby’s crying had softened. Maybe he knew Frank was holding him now.
Frank peeled off the top layer of blankets.
A ruddy faced baby peered back at him. With tears still in his eyes, Gordon smiled at his father for the first time.
And Frank smiled back.
Mark Mitchell graduated from Cal State Long Beach with a degree in Screenwriting. He currently lives in the Greater Los Angeles area where he is a member of The Blank Page Writers Club. His short fiction has appeared most recently in Fabula Argentea, Close to the Bone, and Floyd County Moonshine as well as the anthologies Big Smoke Pulp Vol. 2 (Presto Comics) and Through the Briar Patch (Hollow Oak Press). Follow him on instagram @markmitchell.writer.
Header art by El Anatsui.
