A Book of American Martyrs(21)

Edna Mae flat-out did not believe this diagnosis. She refused to discuss any “termination” with any doctor. The baby was alive to her, she could feel the baby alive inside her! She said that Jesus would take care of her and her baby, she had had only healthy babies in the past and Jesus would look after her now. They would all pray for a healthy baby. Luther was even more emphatic than Edna Mae, he did not say much to anyone but definitely, he would never agree to “termination” which was what they did in Nazi and Communist countries—like “sterilization.” They would all pray specially hard for a healthy baby and that would be enough.

(Some of us are not so sure what we believe. In our church which is not evangelical like the Dunphys’ church there are no hard-fast beliefs. In fact it is not a good idea to talk about such things, like politics, the ones that revere the President and the ones that hate him, or how people feel about the Gulf War, or any war. Luther Dunphy was not one to speak much still less to argue. The deeper a man’s feelings are, the quieter he is. Which can be deceiving, as Luther’s actions have proven. You could see the stubbornness in the man’s face for as long as we have known him. The set of his jaw like the set of a horse’s jaw when the horse has made its mind up and nothing can change it.)

Some folks I know argue that if God sends you a child, God is sending you that child with the understanding that you can bear it. God is not going to send you a child you can’t love, or take care of as required—I believe this. At the same time there are Christians who would “terminate” a pregnancy like Edna Mae’s as it was prescribed and would be performed in a hospital and not at an abortion clinic.

It is not anything to be ashamed of. That is my opinion. Edna Mae and Luther felt differently of course. To them, it would be like murder. But I think if the mother is married, and there is a father—and the doctor suggests it—it is nothing like abortion which is plain murder and should be outlawed.

So, they returned home, and never went back to Springfield. And Edna Mae took care of herself by trying not to work too hard and brought the baby to full term. They did a lot of praying, all of the family. And at the church people prayed for them. And the baby was born on schedule, and did not appear to be so badly afflicted. By the time I was invited to see Daphne at Marlene’s house, she was a few weeks old and not so strange-looking though very small and wrinkled with a round face and small slanted eyes and her funny cute little tongue poking out. She was noted to be very sweet and observant, for an infant. And when she cried, she did not sound angry so you wanted to press your hands over your ears and run out of the room.

After a while like a year or so people began to say that the Dunphys’ new baby was “not right”—and it was said by some, this was a retarded baby or a Down’s baby. But there were many beautiful things about Daphne you could see instead, if you took time. And you could see why Edna Mae was always holding her, and fussing over her.

When we heard that this little angel had been killed in the car crash out on the highway we all just burst into tears. It was such a shock! Three years old, and she hadn’t even seemed that old. It was so sad. Because you would think, the poor little girl had not ever had an actual life, and now the life that had been granted to her had been taken from her.

The ways of God are mysterious, that is a fact. That cannot be stressed too strongly.

And you would feel so sorry for Edna Mae, who had loved the little girl so much. And for Luther, who had loved her too, and had been driving the car.

That, Luther Dunphy would never get over. That he’d been driving that car.





SIN


At age twelve, and for years to come, I dwelt in filth and shame.

All of my friends were like myself. All the boys I knew. It is vile even to recall. Especially, my mother shrank from me. She would see the sheets on my bed, and my underwear, that was filth-stained. But if I tried to wash these myself she would know this, too.

It was awkward between us, when we were alone together in a room. There was not much to say, I did not blame my mother for detesting me, as I would not blame anyone. Yet sometimes, in eating with the family and in clearing the table afterward, I would intentionally drop a fork, a plate, a glass, that my mother would react, if only in surprise; and my brothers would laugh at me, for they sided with one another, against me as the youngest; and my father would command me to clean up the mess I’d made which I would do, sulky and silent.

Women saw me staring at them, at their breasts, bellies and legs. My face went slack, my eyes felt hooded like a snake’s eyes, yet helpless to look away. And between my legs, my “thing” like a snake, that moved of its own volition and grew hard, and could not be stopped. At school, the teachers were all women, in eighth grade. In all my classes I was positioned at the back of the room with other boys whom the teachers did not like or perhaps feared. The back of my desk could be made to press against the wall to grate away the paint and leave a mark. With my knees I could lift my desk and let it fall, to make a noise. The startled look in the teacher’s face meant that she would like to chide me, and send me from the room, but did not dare.

In Upper Sandusky Middle School Felice Sipper was coarsely talked-of. In a higher grade was Beverly Sipper, who would have to drop out of school in tenth grade because she was pregnant, and in a lower grade, in the elementary school Irene Sipper and her brother with the shaved head (shaved to prevent lice) Ronald Sipper. It was said of the Sippers who lived in a trailer by the railroad yard that they were poor white trash.