Patricia Rockwell - Essie Cobb 02 - Papoosed (2 page)

            “
Por favor
! Please!”

            As her gal pals looked on incredulously, Essie rose and grabbed her red and black walker which was parked next to her chair and followed the young man through the bustling dining room and into the kitchen.  Santos moved quickly, turning his head back every moment or so to be certain that Essie was behind him.  She was.  Although Essie was ninety and unable to walk upright on her own, when driving her walker she was hell on wheels and could go faster than most people could walk. 

            “This way, Miss Essie,” called out Santos, as he wound his way through the main kitchen area.  The many workers barely glanced at their co-worker followed by one of the Happy Haven residents as they attended to their business of washing plates, preparing dishes for future meals, inventorying supplies, and other tasks.  Santos led Essie quickly through a back hallway where the hubbub of the kitchen lessened.  She followed him down a long hallway stacked with boxes of goods.  Some boxes were opened.  One box held giant cans of peaches.  Santos continued quickly down the hallway.  Essie could see a closet door at the end of it.  It was obvious that Santos was taking her to this closet to show her something, but what, she had no idea. 
Maybe, he wants my opinion on what type of vegetable or fruit to serve for an upcoming meal?  No, that doesn’t make sense
, she thought.  The kitchen staff never asked residents for their input on meals.  They certainly wouldn’t ask just one resident for her opinion.  Santos finally reached the door which was open a crack.  He turned to Essie who had arrived behind him.  He looked over her head, as if to see if anyone was around or watching.  Then he carefully opened the closet door.

            Inside, Essie could see a walk-in storage area.  A change in air pressure indicated to her that the storage closet was noticeably warmer than the hallway.  As they moved inside, she saw that shelving units lined the three walls.  On all shelves were boxes of packaged foods and canned goods.  Santos moved quickly to the far end of the closet and bent down to the lowest shelf.  Essie could see an open cardboard box full of what looked like thin white towels.  Santos knelt beside the box and gently lifted the towels. Essie peered into the box. Inside, sleeping soundly was a totally beautiful–totally round and chubby–newborn baby.

Chapter Two

“Babies are always more trouble than you thought–and more wonderful.”

–Charles Osgood

            “Santos!” exclaimed Essie, her eyes agog.  “That’s a baby!”

            “
Madre Dios
, Miss Essie!” whispered Santos, rising and putting his hand gently but firmly in front of Essie’s mouth.  “Quiet,
por favor
.  Baby sleep.  No one can know.”

            “You mean, no one on the staff knows there’s a baby here?  Don’t they come back here for supplies?” Now Essie had her hands on her hips as she scowled at the young man incredulously.

            “Oh, no!” he continued in a soft voice very close to Essie’s face.  “Baby  is secret!  I hide him before dinner, before crew get here.”

            “But, why, Santos?” asked Essie, glancing back and forth between Santos and the infant peacefully sleeping in the box on the lower shelf.  “What are you doing with a baby in this storage closet?  Oh, my!  Is this your baby?”

            “Oh, no, Miss Essie!” cried Santos with a certain amount of shock.  “Not my baby! I not married!”

            “Of course, I didn’t mean …” Essie sputtered, “I meant, maybe the baby of some woman you were … um … dating?”  She cringed as she looked to see how Santos would respond to her delicate phraseology.

            “No! No!” continued Santos, “This is Maria’s baby, Miss Essie.  Maria work here.  I get Maria job in kitchen several months ago.  I did not know about baby then.”

            “What?” replied Essie.  “This is … confusing, Santos!  What is going on?  And why did you drag me back here to see this poor child?  Where is its mother?”

            “That is big problem, Miss Essie,” said Santos, his voice rising along with his shoulders.  “I don’t know where Maria is.”

            “You don’t know where the baby’s mother is?” she questioned.  “How can that be?  I thought you said she worked here.  So, where is she?”

            “She’s gone, Miss Essie!”

            “Gone where?”

            “I do not know, Miss Essie!” replied the young man, shaking his head pitifully.  “Oh, Miss Essie, I do not know what to do.  Can you help me?”  With a miserable face, he looked at the old woman and slowly sunk to the floor in a heap next to the baby in the box.

            “Me?” snorted Essie.  “What do you expect me to do?  I don’t know where this child’s mother has gone.”

            “I know, Miss Essie,” said Santos from the floor, his head in his hands.  Essie tapped her foot.  This was obviously a very serious situation.  A newborn child needed its mother.  It didn’t need to be hidden away in a closet among the canned green beans.  Essie sighed and looked around frantically as if she’d find the answer to this dilemma in the labels on the canned fruit.  Finally, she twirled her walker around and sat down on the built-in leather seat.

            “Now, start from the beginning, young man,” she ordered, “and start now.”

            “Yes, Miss Essie,” replied Santos still on the ground, cringing as Essie shook her finger in his direction.  “I do not even know Maria is pregnant.”

            “When was this?”

            “Maria?  I do not know about baby when Maria and Gerald move here six months ago.”

            “Wait a minute,” said Essie, holding out the palm of her hand.  “Who’s this Gerald?”

            “Gerald is Maria’s husband.  They meet in Mexico.  Gerald is American.  He meet Maria in Los Colinas Rojas … where Maria lives.  Maria and Gerald, they get married.  Very fast!  That very bad, says
mi madre
… my mother.  She says very bad when man and woman get married too soon … and … .”

            “I get it, Santos,” said Essie, motioning for him to speed up his tale.

            “Maria, she make very bad mistake.  She marry Gerald too fast.  She not think first.  Maria and Gerald move to America. 
Mi madre
… my mother … says you cannot trust American man … .”  Santos was gesturing wildly as he sat cross-legged on the concrete floor, telling his story.

            “Yes, yes,” said Essie, nodding, “American men are the scum of the earth.  What happened?  Obviously, nothing good or this little baby would not be … .”

            “Oh, Maria is very happy in America, Miss Essie,” said Santos with a smile.  “She and husband move here to Reardon.  Maria get job here at Happy Haven.  Now I have friend from Mexico I can speak to here in America.  But Maria, she does not speak English good like me!” The young waiter puffed out his chest proudly and wiped his hands on his apron.

            “Yes, yes, Santos,” said Essie, waving her hands more furiously, “but obviously something went wrong.”

            “Gerald, he does not want Maria to get pregnant,” announced Santos sadly.

            “What did he expect?” asked Essie, her eyes bulging.  “He married her, right?”

            “
Si
, Miss Essie,” said Santos, nodding, “but Gerald does not understand Maria’s family way.  He wants her to use … how you say?
Control de la Natalidad
? The control of birth?”

            “Enough information, Santos!” exclaimed Essie, leaning back in her walker, hands to ears.

            “Gerald is very good husband until Maria gets pregnant,” said Santos tentatively, “then he is very bad husband.”  Santos looked at the ground forlornly.  He dropped his head between his knees and rubbed his temples.

            “How?” Essie asked.  There was obviously much more to this story than Santos was probably able–or maybe even–willing–to tell her.  Finally, the young man took a deep breath.

            “He beat Maria,” whispered Santos sadly.  “He beat her when she tells him she is going to have baby.  He tells her to get rid of baby, but Maria, she cannot do that. Maria’s family, they do not believe in getting rid of babies.  Babies are all very good, even many, many babies.  Gerald beats Maria more.  Maria tells me about her husband.  She tells me her husband beats her all the time.  She puts away some money … little by little.  Maria, she wants to leave husband when baby comes, but she needs money.”

            “That was very nice of you, Santos, to listen to her,” noted Essie.  “So where is she?  Why is this poor child now in the bottom of a box in this closet?”

            “I do not know, Miss Essie,” bawled Santos, an actual tear welling up in his eye.  “Maria have baby a little bit ago at home.  Gerald, he do not take Maria to hospital … and Maria, she does not have money, for … how you say? 
Seguro de salud
?  Insurance?”

            “Oh galloping galoshes!  She gave birth at home?”

            “In her apartment,
si
.”

            “I suppose the no-good Gerald didn’t help.”

            “No.  Gerald, he is at work.  When Gerald comes home, he is very mad.  Maria is very scared.  Maria, she calls me.  She wants to take baby and leave husband.  I try to call her every day after baby is born but Maria does not answer, Miss Essie.  I am very worried.  Tonight Maria comes to work for dinner shift.  I think, this is good. Maria, she is okay.  Gerald may be okay with baby.  Then Maria takes me to closet–this one here.”  He looked around the tiny room with a pitiful remorseful sigh.  “When we come in closet, Maria opens her coat and shows baby to me.  I am very worried.  Baby is very new.  Maria is very weak.  Maria has …how you say? 
Contusi
ó
n
?”

            “Bruise?”

            “
Si
! Bruise on her face, Miss Essie.  I do not know what to do.  I do not know why she comes to work tonight.”

            “So what happened?” asked Essie, now completely engrossed in the young man’s tale.

            “Maria, she says she is leaving Gerald.  She says Gerald beats her and baby.”

            “Oh no!” exclaimed Essie.  “The baby too! How horrible!”

            “I know, Miss Essie,” agreed Santos. He hopped to his knees. “Maria says she has a plan.  Plan to leave husband and protect baby.  Maria asks me to watch baby for her until she comes back.  Maria says this to me three hours ago, Miss Essie.  She is not back yet.”

            “Not yet?” cried Essie.  “Can you call her?  Do you have her number?”

            “I have only the telephone number for Maria’s apartment … where she lives with Gerald.”

            “No, uh cell telephone?” asked Essie.  Although Essie didn’t herself possess one of these new-fangled personal communication devices, she did realize that many people owned them and that they could come in handy in unusual predicaments–just like this one.  Indeed, both of her daughters–and she assumed her son–used their cell telephones frequently.

            “What am I going to do, Miss Essie? What if Maria does not return?” pleaded Santos.  He was clutching Essie’s knees as she sat, perplexed, on her walker seat.

            “Why don’t you take the baby to Violet or one of the staff nurses?” suggested Essie.

            “Oh, no!” replied Santos, aghast.  “I cannot do that!  Maria makes me promise not to tell anyone about Antonio.”

            “Antonio?”

            “The baby!”

            “But you just told me about him, Santos!” whispered Essie loudly, slapping the arms of her walker in frustration.

            “I think Maria means not to tell anyone who is a … a …”

            “An authority?”

            “
Si
, Miss Essie.  That’s it! Maria is afraid … if important people know about Antonio, they take him and keep him … or even more worse … give him to Gerald.”

            “But isn’t Maria a citizen?  I mean, she married Gerald.”

            “Yes, Maria is American citizen … I think.  I am not sure.  I do not know law.  Maria does not know either.  Gerald tells her she cannot keep baby and he can give baby away.”

            “He can’t do that!”

            “Are you sure, Miss Essie?” asked Santos.  “Maria is very scared of husband.  Very scared for baby.”  He leaned back on his haunches as he stared up at Essie with his big brown eyes.

            “Yes, I can see that,” mused Essie, hunkering down on her walker seat in thought. “Do you have any idea where she is now?”

            “No,” said Santos, “She is in very big hurry when she leaves here tonight.  Maria
empuj
ó
… uh,  shoves … baby in my arms and runs out of closet very fast.  When she goes, I do not know what to do. I make little crib for Antonio with the empty box and the old dish towels.  When Maria does not come back, I think I will ask Miss Essie.  Everyone knows Miss Essie helps Senor Bob when he is in coma.  You help him.  Senor Bob has big problem just like baby Antonio.  You help baby Antonio too, Miss Essie.”  He looked at her with helpless eyes.  The warmth in the small closet was beginning to feel oppressive … even to Essie.