Forged by Fire Read Free

Emotionally, the injuries may be much deeper, but only time will tell. He’s going to need lots of love and emotional support in the next few months.”
    â€œThat’s why I’m here, Doctor. I’ve been trying to get that girl to let me take care of the boy ever since he was born. But I gotta give her credit—she tried. She’s got agood heart—she really does love him—she just doesn’t know much about mothering. She ain’t learned how to take care of herself good, let alone take care of a baby. And them drugs ate up what little sense she had. I shoulda stepped in before now, probably shoulda turned her in, but she’s family. You understand how it is, don’t you?”
    â€œThe boy could have died tonight.”
    â€œWell, praise the Lord, he didn’t. When can I take him home?”
    â€œYou’ll have to talk to social services and start the paperwork to be Gerald’s temporary guardian. Are you his only relative? Does he have a father?”
    â€œOf course he has a father!” Aunt Queen’s feathers were ruffled now. “Don’t you have a father? I know you doctors are getting pretty good at making test-tube babies, but the last I checked, it still took a mother and a father to make a baby.”
    â€œWhat I meant was—”
    â€œI know what you meant. Since this kid is poor and black and his mother is living alone and unmarried, his father must be long gone. Well, I’m here to tell you that not all black men are like that. There’s zillions of black families with a mama and a daddy and two kids like the ’average’ American family.” Aunt Queen’s shoulders drooped a bit then, and she said with resignation, “But unfortunately, this ain’t one of them. I don’t know where the boy’s daddy is. I just didn’t want you to assume. You coulda been wrong, you know?”
    Dr. McFall smiled. “You’re quite a lady, Ms. Lincoln. How are you going to take care of a three-year-old from a wheelchair?”
    â€œCall me Queen—all my friends do. And like you said, I’m quite a lady. I raised six kids from this here wheelchair. I ain’t forgot how. What’s one more grandnephew? I’d like to see him now.”
    â€œOf course. And, unless there are complications, he should be able to go home by Wednesday.”
    Aunt Queen quietly entered Gerald’s room. She listened for a moment to his slightly raspy breathing, then softly touched his cheek. He coughed, turned, and opened his eyes. At first confused and frightened, he looked around wildly, but when he saw Aunt Queen, he relaxed and smiled.
    â€œAunt Queen! Where’s my mama?”
    â€œYour mama hasn’t been feeling well, Gerald, and she’s going to a place that’s gonna make her feel all better—just like you came here to get better. She told me to tell you that she loves you very, very much. Why don’t you come and stay at my house, Gerald, just till your mama comes home. Okay?”
    â€œCan we have oatmeal?”
    â€œEvery day!”
    â€œCan I put syrup on my oatmeal? Mama never lets me.”
    â€œWe won’t tell her!” Aunt Queen smiled with a mischievous grin.
    â€œWhat about G.I. Joe?”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œMy G.I. Joe man. Mama got him for me. I left him ... I left him. ...”
    Suddenly the memories overwhelmed the boy. The flames, the fear, the feeling of utter desolation were too much for him to handle. He cried, huge body-racking sobs. Queen positioned her chair close to his bed, deftly lifted him up, and cuddled him in her ample lap. She rocked and crooned while he wept for all the pain he had known in his short life, and for all the pain yet to come.

THREE
    G ERALD SAT ON Aunt Queen’s back porch, idly rolling rocks down the wooden ramp that had been built for her wheelchair. In the six years that he had been living with Aunt Queen, this ramp had