Chapter 2

When I was next aware of my surroundings, I was in the x-ray department. People were hovering around my bed, moving me this way and that to get the correct angle for pictures. I knew that one of those people was Sienna. She was staying very near my head and using her arms and upper body to make sure my head wasn’t poked, pushed, or prodded. Her right breast was flush against my cheek, and when I opened that eye, all I could see was the underarm of her nurses’ uniform. The radiologist was shooting pictures of my abdomen as I awakened. They must have started at my head and worked down, because their attention was focused lower than my neck and head.

Rather than speak, or otherwise signal that I was awake, I chose to lie quietly and see what developed. The hospital staff worked carefully, but quickly to capture all the images ordered by the physician.

Before too long their work was done, because they covered me back up and began the process of getting me back to my hospital room. The pain in my head had partially subsided, and I could breathe without it causing more pain. Either the drugs were working as the doctor hoped, or the healing I had grown so accustomed to experiencing was underway.

Sienna, my personal nurse looked down and smiled when saw me watching. “Well, look who’s awake,” she said cheerfully. I read her lips and heard part of what she said. The radiology staff perked up and tried to speak to me, but it wasn’t coming through clear enough to be heard. Just hearing something was a positive sign, and I looked forward to recovering as much hearing as possible in the near future. The staff cooperated in getting me from the table to my bed, and I was rolled back to my hospital room.

For fourteen days I laid in silence, hoping for natural improvement to my hearing. During that time the surgeon repaired Ross’ damaged body, including the prolapsed rectum. For those two weeks I lived on liquids and that was not very pleasant.

Once I recovered from the earlier surgery and it was obvious tat my hearing would not heal on its own, the doctors decided to go in and repair my damaged eardrums. That’s when things around Mercy Hospital picked up speed. I was prepped and headed for surgery within a few hours of their decision to operate and back in my room barely ninety minutes later. When the bandages came off I began to hear a limited amount of noise. I found I could hear some things quite normally, which was a huge improvement. Rather than lose any advantage that gave me, I kept the news to myself.

Once I was recovered from having surgery on both of my eardrums and healed from the other traumas that were visited upon Ross’ young body, the child welfare system came calling. “Good morning, Ross. I am Mildred Derron and am here to look after you and your rights until the judge decides what comes next...” She talked a mile a minute, and I remained passive, never indicating that I heard a word she said.

It took her awhile to temporarily fall out of love with the sound her own voice. Once she realized she was talking to herself, she was disturbed to discover that she wasn’t taking me along with her as she babbled on and on.

When my silence and unchanging expression finally tipped her that something was wrong, she simply stopped talking and went in search of a doctor. Apparently I was simply another piece of state property to her. In my real life I endured that one time too many and decided without giving it two seconds of thought that as soon as I was physically capable of leaving, I was walking away from the hospital and never looking back. That was how emphatic I was about avoiding becoming another casualty of government child services.

It wasn’t long before Mildred was back with a doctor in tow. She was haranguing him with questions about my lack of response. Her insistence that it was some kind of medical malpractice that my body arrived deaf, and with fourteen days to correct every little thing that was made wrong by the abuse that Ross had suffered, they still failed to have me ready to fall at her feet and hang on every word she shared, was growing thinner by the second. He was not nearly as impressed with her government badge as she was, and when she waved it around one time too many, he snapped.

“In case you haven’t noticed, this is a HOSPITAL and you will comport yourself quietly and respect the condition and difficulties our patients are attempting to recover from. If you can’t behave like an intelligent adult, I will have hospital security physically remove you and follow up with a court order barring you from setting foot in here ever again. You will not keep disturbing our patients at critical times in their healing.”

She apparently understood everything perfectly - right after he mentioned having her dragged before a judge to answer as to why she was harassing doctors and upsetting sick people. Once she cooled her jets, and temporarily parked her ego at the door, he calmed down and explained. “This young boy was brutally assaulted by an adult, using heavy implements that ruptured both ear drums. The brutal abuse resulted in extensive bleeding, as well as damage on both sides of his skull. It is a wonder of modern medicine that he is even conscious, not to mention alert. His hearing was very badly damaged during the tortuous assault perpetrated against him and the emergency surgery that was necessary to stop the internal bleeding and repair the damage might, I say – MIGHT - result in him recovering perhaps, twenty percent of his hearing.

“Furthermore, his skull was fractured in multiple places. This boy is lying there with no fewer than eight fractured ribs. His chest, back, legs and abdomen were kicked so hard and so often that he is having to heal from numerous subcutaneous contusions, some of which are still bleeding beneath the skin.”

He hesitated to make sure she was paying attention, and then said, “Now ... If you can shut up and think for just a few seconds, you might realize that he was critically injured, will require months, if not years of physical and auditory therapy, to go with clinical counseling to deal with post-traumatic stress from what was inflicted upon him.

“AND if your ego can imagine such a thing, his recovery is far more important to us and him, than your busy schedule!” He got louder which resulted in Hospital Security making a visit to impress on Mildred that any further outbursts would not be tolerated.

With his disdain for her schedule and importance successfully communicated, she shrunk back from him, apologizing. She did settle down enough that she actually asked a question, instead of talking like a self-important, magpie. “Doctor, can he hear enough for me to advise him of his current status as a ward of the state?” The change in tone was astounding and the doctor humored her by answering.

“If I were you, I would do what we do when we need to communicate with him. Use your pen and paper, and write what you need him to know. Then wait for him to respond. BUT, keep it down, or you will be removed.” He walked off without another word and she stared at his retreating back for a long time. Even as he disappeared Hospital Security remained to enforce his orders. Mildred quickly promised to behave.

I steadfastly remained silent. There was no way I wanted to be a prisoner of the system. The best thing for me to do was keep quiet and wait to see what happened next.

She wrote.

For a long time Mildred wrote on her legal pad, pausing now and then to think before she continued. With nothing to do and nowhere to go, I silently waited and watched. The security officer never left my side and never let Mildred think she could lay a finger on me without getting hurt. I guessed that he had also lived through a child welfare experience and had as little respect for them as I did.

After at least fifteen minutes, Mildred smiled and handed me the legal pad. As I read her writing, she read her words out loud. “Good afternoon Ross. My name is Mildred and I work for Edgerton County Children and Family Services. My boss assigned me to look into the unique circumstances that brought you to the hospital and make a recommendation as to how the County should respond.

“I know that you are hurt and frightened. You have every right to be scared. What was done to you was disgusting and illegal. I am sorry to have to tell you this, but your mother was arrested and charged with a number of crimes. She will be sent to prison. That means you will have no parents to look after you until you turn eighteen. That’s why I was sent here. It’s my job to find a home where you can be safe until you are an adult and can live on your own.

“Because your mother was so violent, the court will probably never allow her to see you again. It just wouldn’t be safe, but that is up to the judge and we have a date to go see her in Family Court tomorrow...”

The security guard stopped her when she mentioned an appointment to go see a judge. “I am sorry, Miss Derron, but you will have to speak with the doctor before you are taking this child anywhere.” He gave me a look that I failed to translate and picked up the bedside phone. “This is Officer Holt. Please connect me to Doctor Halberstadt.”

It took some time, but apparently the doctor came to the phone. “Doc, this is Holt. The social worker just informed Ross that she is taking him to family court tomorrow. I stopped her interview until you decided how to proceed. Please let me know what you wish.” He grunted a couple of time in answer to whatever the doctor had to say, and hung up.

Holt gave Mildred a very, very firm stare, and said, “Doctor Halberstadt will be along shortly and you can take it up with him. In the meantime, please refrain from upsetting our patient.” I was impressed with his professionalism and poise.

Mildred has just started to continue reading to me, when the door opened and the doctor walked in with two others. “Miss Derron. This is Mr. Edward English. He is our hospital Chief Executive Officer. With him is Sondra Singletary. She is our chief counsel. What is the purpose of your visit here?”

She didn’t get a chance to respond, because Sondra Singletary launched into a broadside, accusing her of everything from child abuse to professional incompetence... “ ... and one more thing, Miss Derron. If you ever stroll into this hospital again and attempt to circumvent the directives of our staff, you will be arrested and charged with a number of crimes. If you have a problem with any of that, pick up that phone and call your boss, because I can have him charged just as easily.”

Mildred shrank in the face of Sondra’s ferocity. She stammered, stuttered and made several attempts to take back control of the interview, but neither Doctor Halberstadt, nor Sondra Singletary were having it, and she left with her tail tucked firmly between her legs.

I maintained possession of her legal pad and carefully slipped it under the covers, out of sight. Everybody had somewhere else to be, and once Mildred was confirmed to have been escorted out of the hospital and off the property, I was mercifully left alone. Doctor Halberstadt’s parting words were spoken loud and clear enough for me to hear, “Hit your call button if you get any visitors, whatsoever.”

As soon as I was alone I finished Mildred’s note.

“ ... The judge will hear from several people about what happened to you and then give us our orders. Because of your special circumstances, your mother is stuck in jail until after the judge deals with you. She will be in court but you will not be allowed to speak with her. Nor will she be permitted to speak with you.

“Please be ready to leave with me at eight tomorrow morning for court.”

I could certainly see why the doctor got upset. I can’t imagine him releasing me to go anywhere farther than the bathroom for a few more weeks. After all that, I napped on and off for the balance of the evening and rested comfortably all night. My dreams were full of images from Ross’ life, as the universe downloaded more of the information I would need to operate as if I really was him.

Ross lived in terror if his memories were representative of his life. His mother was a monster, who used him as a human punching bag. His days were filled with non-stop, heavy work, hard beatings for no reason, and a never-ending series of threats against his life. When he died, it was because his mother dropped a can of peaches before getting it safely in the shopping cart, and grabbed the nearest heavy object, which happened to be a cast iron frying pan and beat him to death with it.

Ross also lived a life filled with unspeakable abuse of every imaginable kind. His nights were often spent being violated with everything from vibrators to a variety of strange men. His screams were muted using a well-worn ball gag, and he was always chained to the bed. Dying was the kindest thing the universe could have visited upon that poor boy. Most nights were spent siting on the floor of the hall bathroom, chained to the wall. He was not allowed to sleep in a bed, nor was he ever allowed to walk around, set foot outside, or have any kind of a life.

To keep him docile, his mother fed him less than a starvation diet. He was literally too weak to resist her, and she never allowed him to go to school, pretending to school officials that he was too retarded to attend. As far as his memories could provide, he had never been seen by a doctor until he was wheeled into the emergency room after being brutally beaten by his mother. Ross was the most pitiful victim of abuse I had ever seen and now I was living his life and had to find a way to fix it all.