He smiled, but just barely. “No. She’s upset because she knows that she could very well be standing in Mr. Baker’s shoes right now.”
I thought about it a minute and finally asked, “Did her brother have the cord around his neck when he was born?”
He shook his head. “Well, then… ” He leaned forward even farther and whispered, “You did.”
“I did?” He nodded. “Twice.” “But… ”The doctor who delivered you was on the ball,
plus apparently there was some slack in the cord, so he was able to loop it off as you came out.
You didn’t hang yourself coming into the world, but it could very easily have gone the other way.”
If I’d been told years or even weeks ago that I’d come down the chute noosed and ready to hang,
I’d have made some kind of joke about it, or more likely I’d have said, Yeah, that’s nice; now can you spare me the discussion?
But after everything that had happened, I was really freaking out, and I couldn’t escape the questions tidal-waving my brain.
Where would I be if things had been different? What would they have done with me?
From the way my dad was talking, he wouldn’t have had much use for me, that’s for sure.
He’d have stuck me in a nuthouse somewhere, anywhere, and forgotten about me.
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