SUMMER 2009Mary Mills
Mickleton MMJB was only two years older than Al but, as his best friend, he had helped him through an incredibly difficult time. Now he was helping Al celebrate his twelfth birthday. It was a lazy Wednesday afternoon in late July, a few weeks after Al had buried his father. JB and Al had been walking aimlessly for quite a while when a cozy, little bakery shop beckoned to them. The boys looked at each other and smiled.
"Hunger attack!" they cried with one voice and laughed. "Got a nickel, JB?"
"A nickel! What d' ya think, I'm rich or sumpthin?"
"My poor belly's rumblin' like a volcano gettin ready to blow," pleaded Al.
"I ain't got but two cents in my pocket, Al," lamented JB.
Day-old donuts, a penny each. The boys could have kissed that little sign as they whizzed into the bakery. A kind-looking, middle-aged woman took the pennies and started to hand JB a little bag with two donuts in it. As she glanced at Al, she suddenly paused, giving him a startled look.
"What's your name, boy? You look familiar," she said.
"Al…"
"Wilkinson," she finished.
"Yes, ma'am. How'd ya know?"
"You've got your mother's eyes and nose. And you still run for a donut the way you did when you were two. I'm your Aunt Alice, your mother's sister. I do hope you boys can stay for dinner."
"Dinner?!!" Al looked over to JB, who wore a broad smile.
"Much obliged; me n' Al'd love to sample your home cookin', Mrs…What d'ya say your name is?"
"Cartwright, Alice Cartwright, but you can call me Aunt Alice."
After gorging themselves at a dinner that was a veritable feast to them, Al and JB looked at the angel responsible for their culinary bliss and offered to help clean up, but Aunt Alice would hear nothing of it.
"While I clean up, how 'bout you boys go on into the bakery and pick yourselves out some nice donuts for dessert?"
Al's eyes surveyed the donut scene, and became fixed on the donut-cream pump. More than the donuts, he loved the cream filling in them.
"Hey, look at this machine for filling donuts, JB. It's got four whole quarts of cream fillin' in it! What d'ya say we sample some?"
"Ok, birthday boy, open your mouth. How 'bout I pump and you suck some yummy stuff; then you pump and I get to suck?" suggested JB.
As Aunt Alice's husband, Herb, looked out into the bakery to see how the boys were doing, he put his hand to his mouth, not knowing whether to laugh or yell. The expressions of the passersby, who glanced in the bakery, covered a wide range of emotions: some gaped in horror; others were disgusted; and a small number seemed quite amused by what they saw going on not far from the large storefront window. Walking silently, Herb was able to slip behind the boys. Slowly, he put his hands on their shoulders to draw them away from the donut-cream pump and bring them into Aunt Alice's kitchen.
"Well, what have we here? It looks like a couple cream donuts of the two-legged variety!" commented Aunt Alice with a noticeable irritation in her voice that immediately dissolved into contagious laughter when she got a closer look at the two donut cream bandits. Since neither Al nor JB was experienced at pumping cream or sucking it from a donut-cream pump, the white globs of cream around their mouths and on their chins made them look ready for a shave.
As the evening winded down and everyone had exchanged stories covering several years' worth of events, Aunt Alice entered the kitchen carrying a cake decorated with lots of cream.
"JB told me it was your birthday, Al, and you can't leave until we sing Happy Birthday and have some cake. Being so close to a bakery does have its advantages," said Aunt Alice as she lit the candles.
After a round of Happy Birthday, Aunt Alice presented each boy with two large pieces of birthday cake and a baker's dozen of cream donuts. After several good-byes and hugs, Aunt Alice told Al to be sure to come to the bakery tomorrow morning around 9:00. His mother would be waiting for him.
"I hope you're not going home to an empty house; are you,? queried Aunt Alice with a concerned tone.
"Grandma Georgiana, my dad's mother, lives there too," responded Al.
"Oh, yes, I remember hearing about her from your mother. Is your grandma still sick?"
"Yes, ma'am. Sometimes she's ok but sometimes she can't tell what's real and what ain't real. When she's that way, she sees things that ain't there. When she's ok, she's real sweet though."
"Well, you take care of yourself and say hi to Grandma Georgiana for me. Uncle Herb's gonna drive you boys home."
"Thanks, Uncle Herb. We musta walked a good five miles today. My dogs are really tired," sighed Al as he admired Uncle Herb's Model A Ford.
After they pulled up by the house, Al asked JB to come in. He was going to give him the Curtiss Jenny model biplane that JB had been admiring for the past two weeks. Al had put the finishing touches on it yesterday and wanted to see the look on JB's face when he gave it to him.
"JB, come on inside. I got sumpthin special for you."
As Al opened the door and walked into the house, a frightened voice descended upon him in a barely audible whisper.
"Jack the Ripper's after me! Please, help me!" moaned Grandma Georgiana.
"It's ok, Grandma. It's me, Al. You're safe here."
"What d'ya doin', Al?" asked JB as he stepped inside.
"Look out! She's got a knife!" warned Al too late. Instinctively, JB held up his hands to ward off the blow and somehow knocked the knife out of Grandma Georgiana's hands. At this moment, Uncle Herb entered the house and with Al's help was able to calm Grandma Georgiana. From Al's more detailed description of her actions, Uncle Herb suspected that Grandma was a schizophrenic. According to Al, she sometimes suffered from the delusion that Jack the Ripper was after her. When that happened, she locked herself in closets, waved whatever knife she could find, and hallucinated about running through the alleys of the East End in London with Jack the Ripper in hot pursuit.
"She's had these spells for 'bout a year. Doctor said she's got Alzheimer's and late-onset schizo, schizo, schizo-something," volunteered Al.
"Schizophrenia," said Uncle Herb with a worried look that intensified the more he heard about Grandma Georgiana.
"Yeh, that's it. The day before he died, my dad said he signed the papers for Grandma to go to Byberry 'cause he didn't have money to buy her medicine. I 'spect the Byberry people will be fetchin' her soon 'nough," said Al, saddened by the upcoming separation from a grandma he loved even if she was a bit crazy.
Uncle Herb winced when he heard this news. Just the other day, he has read an article about Byberry Mental Hospital in the Philadelphia Inquirer. Even though this was 1934, the article showed that at Byberry patient care was woefully inadequate and patient abuse was rampant. The facility was under investigation for its hellishly deplorable conditions. Uncle Herb had heard rumors about the hell on earth that was daily life at Byberry and until now had hoped they were just hearsay. The newspaper report confirmed that the rumors were based on fact.
"Al," cautioned Uncle Herb, "I want you to spend the night at JB's house. Your Grandma was very upset, and it's probably best if she rests quietly by herself. You can check on her tomorrow morning on your way to the bakery."
Al agreed with Uncle Herb, but before they left Grandma Georgiana, he had to get the Curtiss Jenny model biplane he had built for JB. Cutting, gluing, and painting the balsa wood to make a Curtiss Jenny model biplane that would look great and fly well had been a real challenge.
"Wow!" exclaimed JB softly so as not to wake Grandma Georgiana. "This is a real jim-dandy. I bet she flies as great as she looks."
When Al returned home from JB's early the next morning, he noticed a few overturned chairs and broken shards on the floor. There had been a struggle. Georgina Wilkinson was gone. A neighbor that lived on the second floor, Jack Donaldson, told Al that two men in white had put Georgina in a straight jacket and driven off with her. On both sides of the patient transport vehicle, in large, capital letters, Mr. Donaldson had seen BYBERY MENTAL HOSPITAL. Grandma Georgina was gone, possibly never to be seen or heard from again by anyone outside the mental hospital. Al knew he had to get to the bakery as fast as his legs would carry him. Aunt Alice and Uncle Herb would know what to do.
"Alice, somebody's pounding on the door. My hands are full of bread loaves."
"I'll get it, Herb. Goodness, bakery's not open for another 45 minutes."
Aunt Alice opened the bakery door to see Al, his entire person soaked through with sweat. "Well, aren't you here bright and early!"
"Grandma Georgiana's in Byberry. They took her away early this morning," panted Al. "We got to get her out of there!"
"Herb, drop what you're doin'. We've got an emergency.!" Herb put the bread on large table and dashed from the back room out to the bakery shop. If Alice said there was an emergency, he knew something very serious had happened.
"What happened?" he asked with a face covered by a slight coating of flour and hands that smelled of freshly baked bread.
"They took Grandma Georgiana from her apartment and put her in Byberry. We have to get her out of there!" responded Alice.
"She was admitted to Byberry Mental Hospital against her will, and it's my job to see about getting her released. That's a tall order even for a baker like me that makes the world's best cream donuts, but I'll give it my best shot," said Herb with a reassuring smile. "This will take some time, and while I'm gone, you'll have to help Aunt Alice with the bakery, Al."
Hardly a half-hour had passed since Herb left the bakery when Jenny Wilkinson, Al's mother entered the bakery. She looked for Al, but he was nowhere to be seen in the bakery shop.
"Hi, Alice, do you know where Al might be?"
"Al's in back sortin' the bread loaves. He's been a big help since Herb left on an important errand. Georgiana Wilkinson was taken by force from her apartment and put into Byberry Mental Hospital early this morning. Herb went to try 'n get her released."
Out of the corner of her eye, Jenny saw the son she had not seen for ten years emerge from the back room. "Al?!" she called as she rushed toward him.
"Mom! Mom!" Al cried to the woman that was a little older than Aunt Alice but resembled her closely.
"My boy's come home!" she said as she and Al embraced.
"Why didn't yaw come for me?" asked a very embarrassed Al. He didn't want to upset his mother but this question had been eating at him for ten years and he had to know the answer now.
"Al, I tried so hard to find you. I don't make much money cleaning people's houses, but I paid a detective to try 'n find you. Philadelphia's a big place with a lot of people, almost two million by the last census in 1930. After two years, I couldn't afford the detective no more and gave up looking' for you. I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I've always loved you and hoped I would find you one day, and well, it happened; I found you. Let's look forward, son, and be grateful that we're together again."
"Herb Cartwright to see Mr. Anderson," Herb said to the receptionist.
She acknowledged him coolly with "Take a seat. You will be called when Mr. Anderson is ready to see you."
The cold, sterile, unfriendly atmosphere of the hospital director's office contrasted starkly to the warm, lively, cozy atmosphere of Herb and Alice's bakery. Just sitting in the waiting room outside Mr. Anderson's office was a stifling experience in itself.
"Mr. Anderson will see you now, Mr. Cartwright," said the emotionless voice.
After a few niceties were exchanged, Jack Anderson made it perfectly clear that releasing Georgiana Wilkinson was out of the question and any attempt to get her released would be an impossible, uphill battle.
"The bottom line, Mr. Cartwright, is that Georgiana Wilkinson was committed by her son shortly before he died. Luke Wilkinson wanted to be certain that his mother would be taken care of just as the wonderful staff at Byberry are doing right now. He felt his mother, who is schizophrenic, would be a danger to herself and others. He could not afford medication for her. Here she is medicated and kept out of trouble. Take my advice and let well enough alone."
"With all due respect, Mr. Anderson. Luke Wilkinson's wife, Jenny Wilkinson, wants her mother-in-law released from this facility. She and her son, Al Wilkinson, are the closest living relatives that Georgiana Wilkinson has. I have a fairly prosperous bakery and can afford to provide for Georgiana Wilkinson's room, board, and medicine. My wife is Jenny Wilkinson's sister. Jenny and Al Wilkinson want her to be transferred to my house, where my wife will see to her needs. As I recall, her type of schizophrenia can be fairly well controlled by medication."
"With all due respect, Mr. Cartwright, my final answer is no."
One look at Herb Cartwright told everything about his visit to Byberry. After work, Jenny came to pick up Al. Everybody, it seemed, was in a gloomy mood because of Grandma Georgiana's situation. Aunt Alice took it upon herself to change the family mood and lighten it a bit.
"Jenny, how 'bout you and Al come on by for lunch with us day after tomorrow. Bring JB too. We'll make some special cream donuts just for you, Al, and JB."
"How very thoughtful of you, Alice. We'll pick up JB and come by."
The day before the luncheon date, Herb exuded a mood that was unusually happy. Something was definitely in the works and Alice caught wind of it very quickly. " What's gotten into you, Herb? You've got sumpthin' up your sleeve."
"I spoke with Joseph Moore, the mayor of Philadelphia day before yesterday, and he got back to me today. Said his legal aid found no reason that Luke Wilkinson's widow could not sign for the release of her mother-in-law from Byberry. The mayor himself is going to phone Jack Anderson. If we're lucky, Grandma Georgiana just might be able to have lunch with us the day after tomorrow," crowed Herb. "Good thing the mayor has a sweet tooth that I've been catering to even before he got elected. Guess I'm a sort of lobbyist. I promised him a year's supply of his favorite, cream donuts."
No one mentioned a word about Grandma Georgiana to Al. When he came into the bakery with his mom and JB to meet Aunt Alice and Uncle Herb for lunch, he wasn't quite ready for what met his eye. Sitting by the donut-cream machine, pretty as you please, filling donuts was Al's Grandma Georgiana. The Cartwrights fixed up their spare room for her, and she worked in the bakery, doing whatever tasks Aunt Alice gave her, like filling donuts with cream. Al looked at his rediscovered family and his glance fell on his grandma again. He could feel his eyes welling up. "It's ok for boys to cry," he told himself. Being with his family and having his grandma back made him so happy that he had to cry. This was a birthday present he would never forget.
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Last modified:
Saturday, May 30, 2009 at 08:34 PM
