Transfiguration

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

It was hard to believe it was finally happening. There had been so many meetings, endless forms. Dahlia had mothered, cajoled, and supported her through this difficult time. It was all worth it. She was going to have a child of her own. She let out her breath and tried to relax as she opened the car door and made her way into the orphanage.

Her heels clicked on the tiled floor as she followed the receptionist to Sister Benita’s office. The Headmistress ordered coffee while they waited for Sister Felice to bring Richie down. Margaret could not hide her nervous excitement.

“Sister, I cannot believe it. God has heard my prayers. I’m about to become the mother of a ten year old boy. It’s happening - what I’ve wanted for years.”

Headmistress gave her a patronizing smile. “You must be careful what you pray for, Margaret. God has a way of giving us what we think we want. Then we learn later what our request really entails. Mothering can be difficult business.”

“Yes, I know. It certainly won’t be all happiness and sunshine.”

“Having raised way more boys than I can count, I can tell you how true that is. Which reminds me…before Richie arrives I have something for you.” She opened a desk drawer and took out a new leather strap with a varnished handle. She handed the strap to Margaret. “Here at the orphanage we use this strap on our older boys. Its two-inches wide and 15-inches long with a wood handle. Brass rivets retain the leather in the handle. It will never come apart. The handle adds a lot of extra sting.”

“Are you giving this to me?”

Sister nodded. “It’s our parting gift. I want you take it home and use it wisely and with compassion.”

Margaret examined the new implement. She tested the stiff leather slapping it into her palm. She looked across the desk at Headmistress. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “It’s a work of art. I wish I had had this when my husband was alive. It would have gotten his attention.”

“I pray you don’t have to use it often, but I’m afraid that’s wishful thinking.”

Margaret nodded. “Sister, you know I will never abuse my son. However, I will take this strap to his backside when he needs it. It’s ever so much better than the old belt I used to use on my husband.”

“We’ve been using these straps for years. They are far more effective than a looped belt - so much easier to control. My maintenance man makes them from harness leather. Years ago, his wife suggested a wood handled strap with a thicker and shorter strap length. It made all the difference in her children’s behavior. All my adoptive mothers receive one of these straps. Even though Richie has been for the most part compliant, things can change in his new home.”

Margaret whacked the leather hard into her palm. “I like it,” she said. “I will use it with well meant intent.”

Sister Felice appeared in the office doorway. Margaret turned and gasped in delight. The Dorm Mistress had dressed Richie in a blue cap, navy shorts, blouse, and tie. His blonde curls spilled from beneath his cap. She looked into his huge wide-set blue-gray eyes and wondered what he was thinking. His shy questioning look warmed her and tugged at her heart.

“As you ordered, Headmistress, I scrubbed him good, Mrs. Rand. I put a diaper on him. You already know about his walnut-sized bladder. He has to go every hour. Today he’s so nervous…well, you know what I mean. You may just decide to keep him in diapers. It might be the best thing…” She stroked his curls. “I hope you like what I’ve done. It’s how we send our boys to their new homes.”

Margaret could see Sister Felice was saddened and pleased with her efforts. The boy reminded her of a bisque doll. She couldn’t wait to show him to her mother. Sister continued, “Richie doesn’t like it when I pretty him up, but the end justifies the means, don’t you think?”

Margaret drew in her breath. In that instant, she envisioned her son in crinolines, Mary Janes, and a pretty pink dress. God only knew what her mother might do with him. “He’s absolutely adorable, Sister. I am going to take your suggestion and lay in a stack of diapers.”

“It would be a good thing,” Sister Felice said, wrinkling her nose with a tinge of embarrassment. “We would also recommend you rubber sheet his bed.”

Margaret smiled at that. “You needn’t worry, Sister. My mother and I operate a commercial laundry. We wash loads of diapers and bedding. That doesn’t bother me in the least. By the way, I’d like you both to come and visit us.”

“Why thank you…Margaret,” Sister Benita replied. “We do like to follow up on our boys. We like to know how they are faring after they have settled into their new homes. We try to instill a proper sense of values and respect in our boys, but a non-orphanage setting is always different.”

Richie kept a straight face and stared at the wall. The women were talking about him as if he were not even there. In particular, their conversation about his wetting made him feel small and ashamed. Even so, he knew intuitively he could trust these women. No matter what, they would be there for him, which made him feel safe and secure. His new mom was holding a big boys’ strap. Headmistress must have given it to her. He tried not thinking about the first time she would use it on him. Sister Felice’s warning flitted through his mind: be silent, listen well, and mind your new mother. That advice should be enough to keep him out of trouble as he began his new life.

At Sister Felice’s prodding, he extended his hand to his new mother. “I-I want to thank you …for adopting me...Mrs. Rand. I’ll do my best to be a good boy and do as you say.”

“Richie, darling, you mustn’t call me Mrs. Rand. I am your mother now. You must call me Mother or Ma’am.” She extended her arms. “Come here, child, and give me a hug.” Sister Felice’s eyes were wet with tears as she handed Richie over to Margaret. As Margaret folded her boy into her arms she thought he was the most beautiful boy in the world.

She pressed him into the pillow-like warmth of her unsupported breasts. She felt his thin arms slide around her waist as he melted into her. His tears seeped into her dress front. At that instant, they bonded, became mother and son. His surrender was one of the most joyous moments of her life.

Sister Benita allowed Margaret and her son a long moment before she rose from her desk. “I wish you and Richie all the best. I’m certain you are going to make us proud. And do remember you can always come back to us and adopt another of our boys.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Margaret laughed as she put on her gloves. “But first, I have to raise this boy.” She took Richie by the hand and led him out of the orphanage into what for him was a bright new world.

Book Three