by Carl Weber
“Margaret?” Mrs. Duncan’s voice startled me, and I almost dropped the newborn.
“I’ll be with you in just a minute, Mrs. Duncan.” I kept my back to her as I grabbed another blanket and covered him, then placed his tiny wrapped body in the nearby sink, praying he wouldn’t make a sound. I located another bracelet and wrote the name Carmichael on it before slipping it over his foot. Carmichael was my mother’s maiden name, and also the last name of another patient who’d come in three days earlier and had been released.
I turned around and went back to Mrs. Duncan.
“I didn’t make too much of a mess, did I?” she asked with her eyes still closed. She was very groggy from the medication.
“No, Mrs. Duncan. You didn’t make a mess at all. I need to grab some more supplies, though, and I’ll be right back. Okay?” I told her.
“Okay, and Margaret?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you again.”
I quickly gathered the baby into my arms again and eased out of the room, leaving Mrs. Duncan asleep. A slight wave of relief came over my nervous body when I entered the corridor and saw that it was completely empty. Even slipping past the nurses station to get to the nursery was easier than I anticipated. The charge nurse was so busy on the phone that she didn’t even look up at me.
When I got to the door of the nursery, I silently prayed that the plan that I’d come up with would work.
“Well, who is this?” Naomi asked when I walked in holding the baby.
“Baby Carmichael,” I said, trying to sound casual.
“Carmichael? I thought she was discharged yesterday.”
“Um, she’s back for observation. High BP, so we just need for him to stay in here for a couple of hours, that’s all.”
“Oh, okay.” Naomi shrugged as if it was no big deal, then pulled one of the empty bassinets over to me.
I gently laid the tiny boy inside, and he opened his eyes and stared at me. My heart melted, and I placed my pinky finger into his tiny hand. He was absolutely perfect.
Margaret
55
26 years earlier
Sneaking a baby into the nursery at the hospital was one thing. Sneaking a baby out of the hospital was a whole other obstacle I had to face. I knew I would only have a few hours to figure out how to make that happen. I also needed to come up with an explanation for my family about how I suddenly had a newborn. During my one-hour lunch break, I went to the department store closest to the hospital and grabbed a car seat and a few necessities—bottles, diapers, pacifiers, and newborn clothing, among other things.
When I got back to work, the charge nurse told me that the Duncans had been asking about me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as my heart pounded.
“I’m not sure, but I told them I’d send you in as soon as you got back.”
A million scenarios ran through my mind as I slowly returned to Mrs. Duncan’s hospital room. I tapped lightly on the door and prayed she was asleep or didn’t want to be disturbed.
“Come in,” she called out.
“Hey, Mrs. Duncan,” I said with fake cheerfulness. “I heard you’ve been asking for me. I was at lunch. Is everything okay?” The room was full of family members. Balloons, stuffed animals, and flowers were everywhere. Three boys and a girl surrounded the bed where Mrs. Duncan sat up, looking radiant. Mr. Duncan sat in a chair near the bed, and another man and woman were there also.
“Everything is fine, Margaret. We just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done. I told my sister-in-law Nee Nee here that you were by far the best labor and delivery nurse I’ve had, and as you see, I’ve had quite a few,” Mrs. Duncan told me.
“That’s so sweet, and your family is beautiful. How are you feeling?” I asked as I checked her vitals and IV.
“I feel so much better. That extra sedative dose had me pretty much out of it, but I’m fine now.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” A slight wave of relief came over me, and I relaxed a little. “Well, everything looks good right now. How are the little ones?”
“As you can see, they’re doing great too.” Mr. Duncan nodded toward the babies, who were in the arms of happy family members.
“Daddy, I wanna hold my sister,” a little girl sitting in Mr. Duncan’s lap announced.
“You will, London. I promise,” he told her, then said, “London has been the only girl for so long. She’s excited to finally have a sister.”
“Me too,” one of the boys said.
“Yes, you too, Orlando.” Mrs. Duncan hugged the little boy, who was sitting by her side.
“Well, I’ll go ahead and leave you all to enjoy your family time,” I said. “My shift is almost over, and I’m off this weekend. But I wish you all the best.”
“Aw, well, thank you again, Margaret. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” Mrs. Duncan said.
“You don’t have to thank me. I was just doing my job, really.”
“At least let me give you a little token to show our appreciation.” Mr. Duncan went to reach into his pocket.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t take that. It’s against hospital regulations. And like I said, I was just doing my job.” As I looked around at the family, I wondered if I had done the right thing. Clearly, they not only had plenty of money, but they had plenty of love, too. They were decent people. But I was decent too. And although I probably didn’t have as much money as they did, I had plenty of love to give the tiny baby boy that was waiting for me in the hospital nursery. The Duncans had enough. It was my turn.
The last hour of my twelve-hour shift seemed to creep by. I went over the plan in my head like an escape plan in case of fire. When it was time, I gathered my nerves and went to the nursery to get my baby.
“I thought you were gone.” Naomi greeted me when I walked in.
“I’m leaving as soon as I take baby Carmichael to his mom. She’s being discharged,” I told her.
“Really? I thought she was gonna be here at least overnight. Let me get him together.” She went to get up.
“No, keep doing your paperwork. I can get him,” I volunteered.
Naomi remained in her seat, and I hurriedly located the designated bassinet. There he was, sleeping peacefully, as if he were waiting for me. I began rolling it out of the nursery.
“Bye, baby Carmichael!” Naomi waved.
I had barely made it into the hallway when I heard her calling out.
“Margaret, wait!”
I froze.
“You forgot this.” She held out one of the hospital-issued diaper bags that we gave to all of our new moms. “I know his mom probably got one already, but hey, he’s a return customer, so he gets another one.”
My hand was shaking as I took the bag from her, and I prayed she didn’t notice. “Oh, thanks. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome, Maggie,” she teased.
“I’ll see you later,” I responded nervously and went back to pushing the bassinet. Luckily, Naomi didn’t even notice that I was headed in the opposite direction of the maternity side of the floor. Instead, I made my way to the supply closet, where I’d placed the oversized coat and infant carrier I purchased earlier. I slipped the carrier over my shoulders, then placed the baby inside.
He began to whine and wiggle a little, and I rubbed his back as I reached into the diaper bag Naomi had given me. I closed my eyes and prayed as my hands found a pacifier, which I gently placed into his mouth. He quieted down and closed his eyes.
“That’s it. You’re such a good baby. Now, I just need you to stay quiet a little while longer for me while we get up outta here.”
I don’t know whether it was my constant prayer or the fact that the baby listened to my pleas, but I was able to walk out of the supply closet, down the hallway, into the stairwell, and out of the hospital undetected. No one stopped me, and when I reached my car in the employee parking garage, I was so overjoyed that I almost cried. I was sweating,
but I didn’t take off the coat.
There were still cameras in the garage, and I didn’t want to risk being seen as I put the baby in my car. Instead, I pushed the driver’s seat of my car all the way back so I could comfortably drive with the baby still in the carrier until I was several blocks away. When I thought it was safe, I pulled over into a parking lot and placed him into the car seat. Then, I headed home, hoping the rest of my plan would work.
“Maggie, did you bring the potatoes like I asked?” my sister Coretta asked as soon as I walked into the house.
“No, I forgot.”
She rushed out of the kitchen and into the living room with a look on her face that told me I was about to get cursed out, until she saw the car seat I had just placed on the sofa.
She stopped in the doorway. “Margaret, whose baby?”
“Mine.”
“Heffa, stop playing with me and tell me whose baby you got.” Coretta walked a little closer and looked into the car seat. “That’s a little baby. That baby shouldn’t even be out the house yet. Is he a newborn?”
“He is.” I picked him up out of the seat, cradling him in my arms so she could get a better look at him.
“He’s precious. But I don’t understand. Where’s his mother?” Coretta asked.
“I’m his mother.”
“Margaret, you play too much.” She became serious. “Your ass wasn’t pregnant when you left the house this morning, so how the hell are you his mother? Where the hell did you get this baby from?”
“I was leaving work, and I saw a young girl by the back door. She was about to leave him. She saw me staring, and she was scared and crying. She said she couldn’t take care of him, and I promised her I would make sure he was safe.” I told her the story I’d been creating in my head the entire time I was driving home.
“Okay, so she left him at the hospital, but why is he here?” Coretta waited for me to continue.
“Well, I kinda didn’t take him inside. I brought him home. For us.”
“What? You just brought him here? This isn’t a damn puppy, Margaret. It’s a baby! Have you lost your mind?”
“No, I haven’t. Listen, I know this sounds crazy, but if I had taken him inside, they would’ve put him in the system. And you and I, of all people, know what would’ve happened to this beautiful bundle of joy if that happened.”
I stepped closer to her and held the baby out to her. She hesitated, then took him into her arms.
My sister and I had both spent time in the foster care system while our mother was incarcerated, and our father was the same place he’d always been our entire life: God knows where. It was not a pleasant experience for either one of us. Luckily, a distant aunt and uncle finally rescued us from the hell that we’d lived in and raised us. I knew my sister would see this as a chance to pay it forward. At least I hoped she would.
“I don’t know, Mar.” She called me by the only nickname I answered to. “We don’t know anything about this baby or his mother. Hell, he may be a crack baby or have some kind of illness.”
“He’s not a crack baby, Retta,” I assured her. “He’s a perfectly healthy baby boy. He’s just a little small. But I’m sure you ain’t gonna waste no time fattening him up.”
Coretta leaned her head and inhaled the tiny body she was holding. “This is crazy.”
The baby began wiggling and whining. I grabbed one of the small, pre-made bottles of formula from the diaper bag and handed it to her. She placed it into his mouth, and he began sucking.
I smiled. “See, you’re a natural at this. He needs us, Retta. This is the baby both of us have been praying for.”
“Lord, Margaret. I don’t know. We don’t even know his name,” she whispered.
I had been thinking of the perfect name ever since I’d decided that he would be my son. I wanted his name to reflect someone who would be strong and powerful, yet kind and nurturing, like his father seemed to be.
“His name is Roman,” I told her. “Roman Carmichael Johnson.”
“Roman Carmichael Johnson,” Coretta repeated. “It’s perfect.”
Together, my sister and I raised Roman. We told people that we’d taken custody of the newborn from a cousin down south. No one ever questioned it. It also helped that Roman’s complexion was on the lighter side, much like me and my sister.
Things were fairly easy for our little family. Roman was a decent student and a good athlete who loved basketball and baseball. We doted on him and made sure he was well taken care of. When he was younger, he’d occasionally ask about his father, and I told him he’d passed away before he was born. That satisfied his curiosity, I guess, because he stopped questioning.
After high school graduation, he didn’t have a job, but somehow he always had money to help pay the bills. I knew he was running the streets, but I was older and too tired to keep fussing at a grown man. So, I just prayed for him. Prayed that he wouldn’t get shot or locked up, and prayed that I’d made the right decision all those years ago. But I knew that one day, the truth would come out, and now, the time had come.
Roman
56
All I wanted to do was jump up and run out of the room. Instead, I remained by my mother’s bedside while she held my hand and, with each word she spoke, shattered my world as I knew it. I stared in disbelief, shocked by her confession. Rio, the twin brother that I’d just learned about, stood beside me, holding her other hand.
“Wait, so you’re really not my mother?” I tried to comprehend what this all meant.
“Roman, I’ll always be your mother. You’ll always be my son. But, no, I didn’t give birth to you. Charlotte Duncan did.” Her eyes fluttered open and closed.
“I don’t believe none of this, Mama.” I shook my head. I had some other mother, and I actually had a father? That couldn’t be true. “I know you’re high off these meds they giving you, but this shit is ridiculous.”
“She’s not lying,” Rio said. “Our mother—”
“Man, fuck you. You don’t even know us,” I hissed at him.
“Roman, no.” Her eyes opened, and she squeezed my hand tighter. “It’s the truth.”
“No, Mama.”
Her eyes went to Rio. “Take care of your brother, Rio. Tell your parents I . . . I’m sorry.”
A loud, sharp tone screamed from one of the machines. My mother’s hand released mine as her head fell to the side.
Rio gasped and stepped back.
“Mama!” I yelled. “Mama!”
I called her name over and over, but she didn’t respond. I could hear the footsteps of the nurses as they ran into the room.
“Sir, we’re gonna need you to move.” One of them tried to maneuver past me, but I remained still, afraid to release my mother’s hand.
“She’s coding. Call a Code Blue!” another nurse yelled.
The doctor on call entered, and he was a little more direct in instructing me. “Move out of the way.”
“Mama!” I yelled again. My heart was racing, and I could feel the sweat pouring down the sides of my face. I was more afraid at this moment than I’d been earlier when I was attacked. I couldn’t lose my mother. She was all I had left.
“Get him out of the room, now!” the doctor ordered.
Someone grabbed me, and I was finally pulled away, but I remained in the corner of the room, watching them work on my mother.
“Push one of epi and get a crash cart in here!”
“It’s en route, doctor,” the first nurse told him just as a large cart was wheeled into the room and over to the bed.
The doctor grabbed the two paddles and ordered, “Clear!”
My mother’s body bounced up, then fell back to the bed. Her eyes remained closed, and the long beep continued. I began praying, begging God to spare her just a little while longer. I needed her.
“How long has she been down?” Dr. Ford rushed in, and I felt like it was a sign. God had heard my prayer and sent him to save her.
“Six minutes
and counting,” someone answered.
He grabbed a pair of purple plastic gloves and slipped them on as he rushed to her side. “Push another one of epi. Start manual CPR.”
“Please, God, don’t let her die,” I prayed as he pressed on her chest. I went to move again, wanting to be by her side, but someone was holding me back.
After a while, he stopped, and they all looked at the screen above her bed. It was a flat red line.
He stepped away and said, “Someone call it.”
“Time of death, 10:45 p.m.”
“What? No!” I tried to lunge for the bed, but the same strong arms that had pulled me away held me back.
“Roman.” Rio spoke my name, and I realized he was the one who’d been holding me this entire time.
“Mr. Johnson, we did all we could for your mother. I’m sorry,” Dr. Ford said to me.
I couldn’t get any words past the huge lump in my throat.
“Thank you,” Rio said, his arms still wrapped around my chest. “Can we have some time alone with her, please?”
“Certainly,” Dr. Ford said. “Let’s clear the room.”
The medical staff filed out, and Rio finally released me. I rushed back to my mother. While I felt so lost and alone, she looked so peaceful, like she was sleeping and didn’t have a care in the world. I finally swallowed the lump in my throat, and the tears began to flow.
“Mama, damn.” I touched her face. “What am I gonna do now?”
“It’s okay, Roman. I got you,” Rio whispered, putting his hand on my shoulder.
I shook my head. “I don’t have nobody else. Aunt Coretta is dead. My mama is dead. I’m alone.”
“Roman, listen to me.” Rio turned my body to him. “You’re not alone. You got me, and you got a family. I promised Miss Margaret I’d take care of you, and I will.”
I stared into the face that looked exactly like mine—even more so now that we both had tears streaming. I still hadn’t processed everything my mother told us, and I didn’t know what was going to happen from here or how I was going to handle it. But I was glad that I wasn’t alone.