Shadow War in Crete
by Mary Lukes Stamoulis


EXCERPT

 

Amalia Schmidt opened her eyes. It took a while to focus and clear her mind.

Why had her doctor knocked her out? She had specifically instructed him not to sedate her because she wanted to have her baby naturally. She stared at the sterile white walls and ceiling and the white-robed figures moving about whispering, writing notes on large pads. She felt like a piece of meat, primed and being evaluated for market, instead of a patient in a New Jersey hospital maternity ward.

She forced a voice out of her mouth as a nurse neared. "Where's my baby?" She pushed her voice out louder. "Where's my baby?"

The nurse looked at her pensively, then shrugged. "The doctor will be in to see you shortly."

"I don't want to see Dr. Cook, I want to see my baby."

Her doctor came in. He lifted her right hand to take her pulse, the said softly, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Mrs. Schmidt, but the baby… did not survive. He was a boy, stillborn. I had another delivery at the same time, a Cesarean section, so your husband delivered him. Of course he's well qualified and wanted to do it. My nurse Gerta assisted him."

Amelia felt as if she'd been embalmed. She stared at the doctor, corpse-like.

"Are you all right, Mrs. Schmidt? Speak to me." The doctor patted her face.

Amelia's color slowly reappeared on her face, changing from white, to pink, to bright red. "You're wrong." She shouted. "No, Doctor Cook. There's been some mistake. I felt him kicking in here." She punched her stomach.

"Mrs. Schmidt, try to calm yourself…there's been no mistake. There wasn't anything anyone could do. Johann is scrubbing. He'll be here in a minute. He'll tell you. Don't take it so hard. You're fine, and you can have another."

"What do you mean I can have another. Am I a baby factory? All I have to do is wave some magic wand and whoosh, instantly I'm pregnant and I can push them right out every nine months. Do you think another baby will replace this one? I carried him nine months inside me. He was my flesh, my blood and my soul. He was my Beau. I would have called him Haralambo, Beau, for short. I want to see my husband. I want to see him right now. Let him tell me. I don't believe you. I don't believe any of you."

Johann entered the door and approached his wife's bed haltingly. He was rubbing lotion on his hands, which were stretched out in front of him, glistening. He bent to kiss his wife, but she turned her head as a reserve of tears came welling out to wet her pillow. He kissed the back of her head. "Liebling, I'm terribly sorry you had to find out this way, but it's true. Our baby's gone. Never saw light of day. But don't you worry, Liebenswert, you can have lots more. You're just built for it. He leaned over with puckered lips to kiss her cheek.

Amalia pushed him away. "Leave me alone. I don't want anybody here. Please leave, all of you."

"Okay, Liebling. You need rest. Be back later when you're feeling better. Unfortunately, we have to decide what to do with his body. I gave them permission at the morgue to cremate him, if that's all right with you. You have to sign too. I'll go so you can rest. Tell me later what you want to do."

When Amalia was finally alone, she slid out of bed. After a lengthy struggle with her feet to get them to support her, she opened the closet and grabbed her clothes, then started heading for the door. A nurse was entering at that moment.

"Mrs. Schmidt, what're you doing? You're not allowed up. You'll pass out in the hall." The nurse took her arm, cushioned it gently, led her towards the bed and helped her into it. The nurse then lowered herself into a chair where she sat with crossed arms.

Amalia's mind and body ached, but most of all she ached to hug her Beau. She would never feel whole again.

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