It Happened in Silence by Jay Karla M

Author:Jay, Karla M
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-10-28T16:00:00+00:00

This time Magda greets me at the Beck Infantorium. She’s built like a man, strong in the arms, with broader shoulders than her sister’s. It must be all the wheelbarrowing I saw her doing last visit. I explain why I’m here, and I hand the baby over to her.

She frowns and looks past me toward the car and then down her drive.

“It’ll be our secret,” I say. “And you’ll make money and save yourself the trouble of a burial.”

“We’ve never had this request before.”

She’s holding Josephine’s baby. I refuse to think of it as William’s.

“But you must have what I’m looking for.” I raise my eyebrows in a challenge. “You deal in all types of…er…situations here.”

“We take in the sick and poor in spirit. So yes. Many precious souls depart before we find them homes.” She draws in a big breath. “I’ll be right back.”

I tap my foot and check my wristlet watch. Never have to ask William what time it is since the Hamilton Watch Company sent me their newest fashion statement.

I’ve been away from home now forty-five minutes. The sound of birds chirping in the trees is nice. It’s a peaceful setting for so many little ones. At least for the healthy little ones.

Magda opens the door and presents me with a basket covered with a white cloth. I lift the fabric. The dead baby looks doll-like, as if it never took a breath.

“A boy, right?”

“Yes. He passed not more than a few hours ago.”

He’s the right shade of brown. High-yellow. Not too dark. I run my finger down his cheek, withdrawing quickly, startled at how cold his skin feels.

“We must keep the poor dears on ice until we can provide a proper burial out back.”

I nod, then set the basket on the painted porch and count out thirty dollars.

“I added some because you’ve been so accommodating.” I smile. “And to make sure your new baby boy finds a good Christian home.”

“Is there a birth certificate?”

“There is not,” I shrug. “The family is looking for privacy.”

“Not a problem.” She folds the money and puts it in her pocket. “There’s times we don’t get the legal paperwork.”

Yeah. Like when I wandered in here ready to pop seven years ago. Came with nothing but a gross belly and left with twenty dollars. Never wanted to know who adopted my child. I acquired my new start soon after. Changed my name, stole some beautiful clothes from a shop on the outskirts of Atlanta. Reinvented myself. And I made up for those sins by raising a fine family, being an exemplary wife, and serving the community.

I thank her again and carry the basket to the car. Oliver is curled into a small half circle on the front seat. Mrs. Winslow’s Syrup works every time. I’m not sure where morphine comes from, but the manufacturers need an award for excellence.

I slide behind the wheel and place the basket between Oliver and me. I love these quiet rides home. And once there, Oliver should sleep for a few more hours.

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