Flapper, Orphan, Umbrella, Quilt, Pillow

Carol wrapped the quilt tightly around her thin body. The wind cut through the empty porch with a sharp edge. Dusk was approaching. Did she leave the baby in the best spot? The steps seemed cool, but the little basket was warm. She attached an umbrella to the side of the basket to shield the baby from the sun and tucked a tiny pillow under its head. The Abbey was known for its gentle care of orphans left in front of the medieval wooden doors. She promised herself she would slip past the door that night to make sure the baby was

taken in.

Night fell and a gentle mist created a glass sheen on the pavers. Carol prayed that when she reached the Abbey the baby would be gone, safe in one of the nun’s steady arms . She turned the corner as raucous music and shouting voices echoed over the stern Abbey walls. Shattered glass and clanking beer bottles created a cacophony of noise. Carol panicked and ran to the great doors, pounding the iron door knockers with all her might. Her breath came in shallow gulps. She heard someone, knowing it was herself, screaming, “Open the doors! Open the doors! Help me!” Eventually, one of the doors creaked slowly open. A teenage girl wearing a flapper costume, holding a large martini answered, “Whew! What’s the rush man?!” the girl slurred. Carol could see behind her that this was a converted convent. There was a large bar with a band stage to the right. Hundreds of young people were gathered moving to one beat. A red light gave the crowd a sinful, sultry oneness. Where was the baby? “Help me! Help me!”, Carol continued to scream as she grabbed arm after arm in the pulsing crowd....

The darkness and beading sweat woke her. She sat upright with shallow breathing. Carol turned the light on next to the bed to be certain she was awake.