True Sons
(Authors note: This is a fictionalized account of real events. It is a story about how things "didn't go" as otherwise planned. It's about two babies who were accidentally switched at birth. Most all the characters are very real people with very real lives; some are simply "character parts" like me trying to help and understand. The following is the story as it never happened and as it was never told to me. Thank you to the families involved for letting me be a part of their journey.)
The delivery had not gone easy. Thelma could still see the look in Mary's eyes the day the contractions started. Worried, Mary had rung up Doc Klein asking him to make his way quickly to the house. Daddy met him on the porch and Mary and Momma had hurried the doctor upstairs to where she was lying-in. A hot September breeze blew in through the corner window and she tried to stifle her cries. Still, she was scared. She looked at the picture of Christ on her momma's bureau thinking: Please, Lord, don't let it happen again. The heartache is just too much to bear.
Thelma Wells thought about her sweet boy, their little Lawrence, and how the Lord had taken him so fast. They'd been staying down in Cottle County, and their neighbor Ida Sidwell had helped in her delivery. From the beginning, things had not felt right in her belly. In the end, Mrs. Sidwell told her the boy had been too small to make it. She'd had a baby boy! Mrs. Sidwell said the baby was just too insufficient. Ida Sidwell went on that it just wasn't supposed to be. Then the doctor remarked, "We don't know why these things happen, Mrs. Wells." Thelma recalled Mrs. Sidwell had them hurried her little Lawrence away without so much as another word, and all of this acting like he was nothing more than yesterday's parcel post.
Momma had come down to Cottle County for the delivery and to help afterward. Thelma watched too as Momma helped Mrs. Sidwell take the baby downstairs so that she and Doyle couldn't see him afterwards. Indeed, Thelma hadn't seen much of her little boy, save for his tiny pink forehead and one small hand fallen outside the swaddle. She and Doyle had cried and cried. She saw the pain in Doyle's eyes from losing his firstborn, a son, and she felt like a hole was swallowing up her very soul. Mrs. Sidwell briskly told Momma that "the only cure for any of it was a new baby to take the boy's place." She'd watched as Momma politely grimaced. Thelma could tell that Momma hated every word that fell out of that cold-hearted woman's mouth.
Oh, if only Doyle was with her now instead of off fighting for Roosevelt. God, she missed him so much. She was so scared! All she could see was the memory of her firstborn son just a short year ago and them taking him away. All she could see in her mind was that simple box and that brief service in some unfamiliar cemetery so far away from the family. Today, she watched while the doctor examined her, and as he looked from Mary to Momma and back at her again she wondered: Is it all happening again? Doc Klein told them to waste no time; he would meet them at the Dodge City hospital. He said he just wasn't sure about her condition. He didn't want to take any chances given her history.
So Daddy had brought the car around and they'd bundled her into the back of the Ford and sped across the county line into Dodge. They'd hurried her into the women's ward at the Catholic hospital and she felt the world slip away. As the ether dripped into the cloth, she saw Momma's face begin to fall away. She felt herself fall away from Sis Mary and heard what sounded like gunfire somewhere out in the Pacific. Somewhere she could hear Doyle calling out to her. The last thing she saw was a War Bonds calendar on the hospital wall. It was September 30, 1943. Then it all went black.
No, the delivery had not been easy.
II.
Marie Bradford watched as the orderly and a young nurse wheeled the woman back into the ward. She watched as they transferred the woman from the wheelchair to the bed and she saw the look of ether in the woman's eyes that was taking too long to dissipate. Marie watched while they moved the woman onto the bed curious why they weren't more gentle. She heard one of them say, "You're going to have to help us, Thelma..." She noticed too that the orderly limped. The young man appeared clubfoot, and that his left arm couldn't bear much weight as they made the transfer. She watched as the young nurse with him did most of the transfer There was a vacant look in the young nurse's eyes that said she'd rather be anyplace else other than helping a crippled orderly or working at the maternity ward at St. Anthony's Hospital. Before too long Marie heard one of the nuns in charge calling them both to the receiving room. She watched as they disappeared from the ward leaving the woman only half-tucked into bed.
The woman they'd called Thelma appeared sweet, about her own age, and Marie felt an odd sense of kinship with her. There were four of them there that day in St. Anthony's Hospital for their lying-in. One girl who never spoke, and just looked frightened when her father came to collect her and her baby later that same day. Her father looked angry and muttered something about not paying the Catholics for what could be done at home. Then she and Thelma, and one other lady, whom the orderly called Mrs. Mott were all that were left. Mrs. Mott was a sad-looking woman about forty who looked like she wished they'd just give her more ether so she could sleep all this away. Marie heard one of the other nurses say that September 30th had been an "all-boys day in Dodge City" as four women that day at St. Anthony's had given birth to healthy baby boys. She heard another nurse down the hall answer that she hoped that they wouldn't grow up having to live during another war effort.
Indeed, Marie couldn't wait to get their baby "Bobby" home. She and her husband "Jigger" had made up the spare room off the kitchen as a nursery excited for the birth of their first child. Of course, Jigger was thrilled when the doctor told him the baby was a boy. When Jigger heard the news, he and some of the guys he worked with on the Jetmore Star Route had gone out drinkin' in Dodge. Marie wasn't all that happy about it but in truth, she was too tired to care. While her pregnancy had been normal and she'd felt fine, the long labor had taken its toll on her and she was sleepy. It didn't help either that the young nurse kept giving her sleeping tablets even when she protested that she didn't want to upset her milk flow for little Bobby. In the end, she didn't feel much different than Thelma over in the other bed. She'd wake up once in a while clear as a bell expecting them to bring out Bobby to nurse, but then became so sleepy from tablets that she struggled for the baby to latch on. After a bit, the older nurse came in and told her there was no shame about her milk not coming in and took Bobby away to the bottle.
Marie started to close her eyes but glanced at Thelma across the way. Thelma looked restless to her, like she was having a bad dream she couldn't wake up from. She could hear Thelma mutter "Larry, momma loves you always," and then something like "Doyle, please don't let them take little Dwayne from me." Then Thelma would get restless again. Marie wondered if the woman had even met her new son or if the nuns had taken little Dwayne to the bottle like that done her Bobby. She smiled as she started to drift off to sleep again. It was funny to her that Thelma called out to her husband "Doyle Eugene." Why "Gene" was part of her Jigger's real name too, "Mr. Eugene Leon Bradford," the best-looking guy in all of Edwards County. Funny how life is like that she thought as sleep over took her. Two men and their wives having boys that same day. Indeed, what a funny year 1943 was proving to be.
III.
Pamela Odette Pickens was a stupid girl. Neither was she especially pretty. People aren't supposed to say such things, as generally, it is considered very impolite. Nevertheless, it was true. It wasn't that Pam wasn't a "capable" person. It was more that she chose not to be. Born to Cal and Maggie Pickens in rural Ford County, "Pamela Odette" had been named after a great aunt who had been active in the Temperance Party and with the Women's Auxillary of the G.A.R. Suffice it to say, Pam was nothing like her namesake. Pam preferred to daydream her days away practicing foreign accents while reading Movie Life and Film Fun magazines. As far as being "active" in any causes or movements (or even about the current war efforts) Pam Pickens had no interest in any of it. You see, like every starstruck girl in 1943, Pam wanted to be an actress. Her only plan (if she had any at all) was to leave Ford County and go to California. While Pam Pickens was about as pretty as she was smart, she was also of the high opinion that once she got to California she'd surely be picked up for her many acting talents. Sadly, Pam was lacking here too.
She'd graduated from Dodge City High School in 1942 near the bottom of her class. Afterward, she was hired at the Boot Hill Grill but got fired for being short with the customers, short in her register, but never short on excuses for showing up late. Angry about it, Pam usually had some tall tale to tell about how someone had stolen money from the till jar and how being late wasn't her fault if her Grandma was sick. (She wasn't)
Pam was, however, occasionally fortunate.
Lucky for Pam Pickens, her momma, and Great Aunt Odette knew one of the office managers at St. Anthony's Hospital in Dodge City. This manager told Mrs. Pickens about a position there and told Maggie Pickens to send Pam around. They said that if the girl was willing they could train her to be a nurse's aide. The office manager said that with the war going on most of the workforce had gone to the plants down to Topeka and Wichita. The manager told her momma that they were always looking for help. Well, the Pickens weren't rich people and the hospital seemed like a fine opportunity for their girl. Grudgingly, Pam reported "for duty" at the hospital. She figured she'd work there long enough to save up for her bus pass to Hollywood. Pamela Odette Pickens was sure she could be the next Vivian Vance or maybe even Myrna Loy if she could just get the next shot.
She was assigned to the Good Sisters at St. Anthony's, Sisters Fredericka and Michael, two near octogenarian nuns who ran the hospital's nursing staff. Both of the nuns were overworked, smoked Chesterfields like chimneys, and spoke with heavy Prussian accents that did nothing to disguise their bad breath. To her credit, Pamela did try to be respectful to the Sisters, but it was all just so boring. Emptying bedpans and feeding old people recovering from strokes just wasn't her deal. Sister Fredericka saw almost immediately that Pamela wasn't gonna be a natural fit for the hospital, and in a somewhat calculated move sent Pam down to the ground floor where the maternity ward and the new babies were. Naively, Sister Fredericka assumed Pam's natural maternal instinct would kick in, and that she would enjoy looking after the new mothers and their new ones. Sister Fredericka could not have been more wrong. The truth was Pam hated kids. And for Pamela Odette Pickens screaming hungry babies were the absolute worst.
There was an orderly assigned to the first floor and the maternity ward. He'd been assigned there by Sister Michael. His name was Charles Levine and he spoke his name with a slight lisp making it sound like "Charlfs." Charles walked with a limp like he had a clubfoot or bad hip and was smitten the first time he saw Pam. Charles would smile a big toothy grin under his sweaty nose whenever Pam came into any room. She didn't mind hanging out with Charles. Pam quickly found him to be someone she could control, and for Pam Pickens, control was everything. As an added bonus, she learned early on that if she flirted with Charles just a little bit he'd pretty much do all her work for her. The trouble was though, both the nuns and especially Sister Mike didn't want Charles Levine around any of the babies in the nursery. "We will have no sense of impropriety at St. Anthony's," the old nun would say. This meant that while Pam could get Charles to do the heavy work, it fell to Pam to change diapers and bottle-feed the babies who wouldn't take their momma's milk. After only one week in St. Anthony's mother's ward, Pamela Odette Pickens wanted to scream.
IV.
Thelma was groggy. She smiled across the way at Marie and at Mrs. Mott in the bed next to her. Marie smiled back but neither of them spoke beyond the usual pleasantries. The woman in the remaining bed, Mrs. Mott, turned away not saying anything. It was as if her life was too much and the addition of another child to feed and clothe was no blessing to her. Thelma hadn't seen her baby boy Dwayne much but the young nurse Miss Pickens told her she'd bring him around soon enough. Her sister Mary and Momma had seen her boy through the window though and said he was positively the most handsome baby boy in all of Dodge City. She was feeling a bit stronger and felt like she was pretty much up to going home. Sister Michael had come by and told her it wouldn't be long now as her boy was growing stronger by the minute. Her daddy had even stuck his head in the door of the ward and given her a big thumbs-up smile at the birth of little Dwayne. A telegram came in from Doyle pouring out his heart and love for her and their son in a few words. It meant the world to Thelma. Finally, she felt a sense of peace in her heart.
The hospital was a busy place and on the other side of the room Marie had had some trouble sleeping. She was restless to go home. A very busy Sister Fredericka had come through once hurriedly and instructed Nurse Pickens to do what she could to make Marie more comfortable. When Marie asked Sister Michael about her baby, her boy Bobby, and about trying to feed with her own milk she was simply again told to rest.
"I'd like to see my baby," she'd asked.
"Your boy is fine Mrs. Bradford. He is taking the bottle while your milk comes in. They'll be time enough for that when you get him home," Sister Michael said dismissing her.
Then Miss Pickens would appear as if almost out of nowhere with another one of those damn sleeping tablets. The noise from the hospital and the worry over Bobby just made her so exhausted. Before long, Marie, worn out from childbirth and weary from the din of it all, just went back to sleep. She dreamed of the little room off the kitchen she and Jigger had put together for their new son. She dreamed of Sunday suppers with Grandma Trotter, and of a little black dog she just knew Jigger was gonna want to get for Bobby to help make their little family complete. She just couldn't wait to get home to their little house in Kinsley.
V.
They were screaming - all three of them. Oh, why were they screaming now??? Why couldn't they just go to sleep? Wasn't Sister Michael supposed to be here to help her? She heard Charles mumble something about Sister Fredericka being sick and that Sister Michael was looking after her. "It's a God damn hospital, Charles!" Pam yelled back at him above the screams from the babies. "Can't they get someone else to look after the old woman?"
"Ain't these babies s'posed to be going home today with their mamasss?" Charles lisped out over the noise while closing the door to the nursery in an attempt to drown out the wailing colic. He looked away sheepishly, afraid he would further anger Pam or that he'd get caught in the nursery where he'd been told not to be. In a moment, he continued on.
"Pam, I don't think you got the Wells boy in the right bed," Charles attempted to say. With both the nuns absent, and with no one else to help, Pam had curated Charles' favor to come into the nursery and help with the babies.
"I don't know Charles," Pam snipped back at him. "I don't pay that much attention to Sister Fred's schedule when they leave. All I know is I'm to bottle feed 'em and change 'em and keep the mommas comfortable. And for your information, Charles Levine, it doesn't matter what bassinet they're in. I know which one is which."
"Seems like I heard Sister Mike say that both the Bradford boy and the Wells boy were going home today anyway. They've been here since September thirtieth. Not sure about the Mott boy." Charles replied looking vaguely self-important in feigning an attempt to impress Pamela.
Pamela, undeterred in Charles' litany of what the absent nuns had planned for the day, was busily changing the diaper on the Mott boy. The boy yipped and curled out a scream so loud she was sure they heard it in the lobby. She picked up the Mott boy handing him to Charles who quickly handed him back. "Why won't you hold him?" she said. Charles just looked away unsure.
"Then go get one of the other babies," Pam grunted in frustration. "And no Charles, I don't care which one. Just feed one of them and get them to be quiet." Charles looked down at the Mott baby throwing a fit in the Wells boy's bed.
"Maybe he's hungry," Charles said.
"Obviously, Charles. And frankly, I don't give a shit if he's hungry as long as he's quiet," Pam yelled back, frustrated that all three babies were now chiming in. "I just want them all to be quiet so I can get them ready for their mommas to take them home."
Grabbing the Mott boy, Pam picked up the crying baby again and roughly slapped it on her shoulder seeing if he needed to be burped. This proved to be no good, and the Mott boy screamed even louder. Pam growing more frustrated by the minute, took hold of the baby and stared him squarely in his face shaking him while screaming at him, "Why won't you shut the Hell up???"
Pam continued to shake Baby Mott (who the parents had not yet given a name) and did not notice that the baby's neck was violently contorting over backward. A small burst of air came out of Baby Mott and vomit flew out all over Pam's nursing smock. It was more than Pam could stand, and she nearly tossed Baby Mott toward Charles who caught the child with his better arm. Suddenly, there was silence in the room. Even the Wells and Bradford boys stopped their unhappy screams for just a brief second whimpering in the stale Kansas hospital air.
"Pam, he ain't movin' no more," Charles lisped out. "Pam, I think he's dead." Charles just looked over to Pam in disbelief.
"Oh, my God Charles! YOU killed the Mott boy!!!" Charles just looked up dumbfounded.
"Miss Pam, I didn't kill no baby," Charles said somewhat flatly in shock. None of what had transpired had really set in. Nervous, Charles lisped out, "Miss Pam, you knowth good and wealth it was yoush..."
But it was too late. Pam Pickens had already flown out the door screaming "Help!" There was no way in Hell she was getting blamed for that baby's death. It was time to put on a performance of a lifetime. There was no way in Hell she wasn't going to Hollywood. And with that, Pamela Odette Pickens ran from the ward yelling that the cripple Jew-boy Charles Levine had killed the Mott's baby boy.
VI.
In the room down the ward where the mothers slept, Thelma Wells heard the commotion. She'd heard the hungry cries of the babies earlier but knew that after the boys were fed those cries tended to fade a bit. This was different. She heard Miss Pam screaming something at the orderly Charles. Worried, Thelma got up out of bed and gathered her gown around her. She glanced over at Marie who was still half asleep from the pills that Miss Pickens had told her she needed to take. Mrs. Mott was awake but appeared undisturbed by it all. Mrs. Mott just looked out the small window at the end of the ward. There wasn't much more than a vacant look in her eyes.
Gathering her strength, Thelma walked gingerly out of the ward and toward the nursery area. There, other hospital workers who'd also heard the commotion and screams filed past her on their way to the nursery. Miss Pickens was nowhere in sight, and she heard one of the other hospital workers say that Sister Fredericka and Sister Michael were out ill for the day. Arriving at the nursery Thelma first saw the Mott baby lying crumpled in a bassinet. Oh, my God! was all Thelma could think. Please don't let that be my Dwayne! How is this happening again?? Thelma wasn't sure but wasn't that baby in the wrong bassinet? The name tag on the bassinet said Bradford. Unsure, yet still relieved, she looked toward Charles. To his credit, Charles Levine was holding one of the other babies trying to calm him down. The third baby whimpered in a bassinet nearby. Charles Levine, the man who wasn't supposed to go near the babies, had stood guard over the two babies not really knowing what to do. Charles Levine, the crippled "Jew-boy" had not left the babies behind.
"Give me my baby!" Thelma screamed at Charles.
Unsure of what to do, and as the other hospital workers arrived and with Sheriff Moore not far behind, Charles Levine handed the baby boy over to Thelma. Gently and tightly Thelma hugged the baby boy to her breast. Her mind was spinning a bit and people were filling in around her, but she clung to the baby, saying to herself, "No one will ever take you away from me Dwayne, no one ever," and "Momma will always love you Lawrence, but it's time for little Dwayne to come home with me and daddy now." Behind Thelma Wells and the baby she held and slightly off to her right, Marie Bradford came in through the nursery ward door.
Marie Bradford gasped. She looked down at the crumpled baby in the bassinet marked Bradford. "Is my baby dead?" She asked dumbfounded. It was all she could say or half shudder to whisper out. Trembling, Marie walked over to the bassinet and gently laid her hand on the back of the dead boy. The boy appeared as if only sleeping. One of the hospital volunteers from the G.A.R. came over to gently guide Marie away from the bassinet while one of the orderlies from the operating theater covered the baby up as Sheriff Moore arrived.
Suddenly, Charles Levine spoke up. Half gurgling in his lisp he yelled across the small ward, "I did not killth that baby!" though everyone including the sheriff only looked on in disbelief. "It was Pam Pickens. She shook the baby too hard." And looking from Thelma to Marie and back to Marie again he said, "That baby that died ain't your baby Mrs. Bradford. That's the Mott's boy. Mrs. Wells is holding your son."
The problem though however was, that Charles Levine was wrong.
VII.
The truth was that Thelma Wells wasn't holding the Bradford boy. Thelma Wells was holding the baby she'd given birth to, her own son. Unsure, and in the heat of the moment, Marie Bradford walked purposely toward Thelma reaching for the baby boy. She made her way across the soon-crowded room, past Sheriff Moore and other arriving hospital staff. Equally unsure, Thelma Wells looked into Marie's eyes and saw both relief and desperation in her eyes. Thelma looked over to where one of the other nuns was taking the remaining baby from Charles Levine. Suddenly, Thelma stumbled. Images of her first son Lawrence flooded her mind, and she could hear Doyle calling for her somewhere out in the Pacific.
In an act of utter grace, Thelma Wells released the baby in her arms and handed him to Marie. Marie embraced the child tightly, instantly bonding with the boy she believed to be her own. Walking over to where the nun had just wrapped the child that would be hers in a swaddle, Thelma Wells picked up the remaining baby from the nun's arms and held him closely to her breast. In her mind, she saw little Lawrence again, heard Doyle again, and felt her heart grow full. "No one will ever take you away from me Dwayne Wells, no one ever. I am your momma."
There was still much commotion in the nursery. The commotion had spread out into the rest of the hospital corridor as the Sheriff went about making his determination about what had occurred. Charles Levine was taken away for questioning but later released due to a lack of evidence. This lack of evidence was largely supported by the fact that Miss Pamela Odette Pickens had immediately fled Dodge City and was nowhere to be found. Neither her family nor her previous co-workers at the Boot Hill Grill had any idea of where she was though some said that the Sheriff might want to contact the California authorities. The truth was that Pam Pickens was never found. At a Trailways bus stop in Tucumcari, New Mexico, where she began calling herself Miss Lena Hill, Pam Pickens struck up a conversation with the wrong sort of fella. When she'd refused to do what he wished at that bus stop, well, he broke her neck and left her behind a filling station restroom. No one knew who she was. No one ever heard from Pam Pickens again.
Sisters Fredericka and Michael returned to work the following day. They were embarrassed and indignant that such a thing had happened and offered prayers to the Motts. However, there was the business of the hospital to run and the Good Sisters were not prone to show emotion alongside their public humiliation. There was paperwork to complete and proper birth certificates to fill out for the State of Kansas. For the sisters, there were no more questions to consider or answers to be given. Seeing as all the boys had been assigned to Miss Pickens, and as Sister Michael did not wish to further the hospital's or the diocese's embarrassment, the Good Sisters thought it best that the identification of the two boys as "Baby Wells" and "Baby Bradford" as made by Charles Levine the best possible solution for all parties concerned. For the Good Sisters, each family had a baby boy. It was certainly best to move on. Mrs. Mott, who did not shed a tear for her son, was moved to another ward. Rumor was that the family sent her to Osawatomie State Hospital to recover from her depression. In the meantime, her husband filed for divorce.
The Wells and Bradford boys stayed that night with their mothers or their mothers as they were believed to be. In the morning, the Wells and Bradford families arrived to take their baby boys home. Thelma Wells and Marie Bradford had not spoken much since the afternoon before. Each of them had bonded with the baby in their arms. Each of them was afraid of losing that baby amid some other or new storm that might come along to take him away. Neither Thelma nor Marie were going to let go of either of those baby boys. Those baby boys, who by fate or accident, were now their own true sons.
**********
Dwayne Wells moved through the crowd of the Homecoming game. It was going to be a great game between the Dodge City Demons and the Kinsley Coyotes. He was there with his best girl who was trying to walk and listen to the presidential debate on her transistor radio. He smiled laughing at her. "Turn that thing off! Everyone knows Nixon going to win, silly!" He laughed at her. "Besides, it's almost my birthday! Let's have some fun! Look we can sit right here to watch the game."
Moving toward them and heading for the other bleachers on the other side was a young man from Kinsley. He appeared to be about the same age as Dwayne. Dwayne heard someone shout to him, "Hey, Bobby, aren't you about to have a birthday?" For a brief moment, Dwayne saw Bobby, and Bobby saw Dwayne. They smiled briefly at each other as they went their way in the crowds for the Homecoming game.
Neither could shake the feeling that they knew each other from somewhere.
To be continued...
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