Breakfast was a good time for Dora.  The nurses moved along quickly – making their rounds before the doctors arrived. Some of the doctors liked to strut around in their stiff white jackets with their holier than thou demeanors, patronizing the patients and sexually or emotionally harassing the nurses.  Dora took this time to observe everything she could while she nibbled at her cold watery eggs and the cold limp toast and the cold barely brown hash-brown potatoes.  She usually had a bowl of corn flakes, milk, and a piece of fruit – but today was someone’s warped idea of special.

For breakfast, she could choose between orange juice and grapefruit juice.  She was always the first person to order and she always chose orange juice.  She’d noticed that there was usually a run on orange juice and that they’d always run out.  So even if you chose orange juice you might still end up with grapefruit juice.  Sure enough two or three poor souls got grapefruit juice which, of course, they hated.  They were always happy to let Dora have their juice.  Dora and her baby were going to need all that extra juice when they finally managed to escape.

That night just around the time visitor hours were ending, Dora changed into the street clothes she’d convinced her mother to drop off in an old shopping bag during her last visit.  Dora gathered the juice cartons she’d managed to save and placed them in the shopping bag.  She wrapped the doll in a small blanket she had fashioned out of a pillowcase.  She arranged the covers and the pillows in her bed to give it the appearance that she had gone to bed earlier than usual. She took a deep breath and made her way toward the hospital exit.

She made it!  She’d been planning her escape from the first day she realized she was being held against her will.  She was surprised that it went so easily.  She realized her baby had hardly made any noise during the escape.  The fact that he hardly ever made any noise flashed briefly through her mind.  Once she was a few blocks from the hospital she began to feel a calmness she had not felt in a long time.  She reached down to expose her baby’s face to the cool night air and was rewarded with a smile and a giggle.

His eyes twinkled beneath the starry night as she stroked his soft cheek.  She praised him for being so brave during their little adventure.  The joy of freedom was soon replaced by fear as she became aware of the danger of her surroundings.  The police did little to re-assure her of her safety. “Sorry lady, but don’t you know better than to be out this late in this part of town?  “Don’t you know better than to be out here among the hookers and the bums and the hooligans?”  “And where the heck is your husband for crying out loud?”

Their sirens blared madly.  They could barely afford her a quick glance as they raced off into the dark, dangerous night.  Dora thought of the handsome Navy man she’d married (against her parent’s wishes).  “Now where did he run off to this time?” she wondered.  Maybe her parents were right after all!  The horns, the sirens, the smell of smoke, cheap wine and urine, the blaring rap music – it was all so overwhelming!  It was enough to drive anyone crazy.  “Hey Dora!” came a shout from across the street.  “Over here!”  That voice, that familiar voice.  Could it be?

It was her husband!  Her parents were wrong after all.  Dora ran toward him unmindful of the speeding transit bus driven by Bill who’d just stopped by Pat’s for a beer or two before calling it a night.  She didn’t hear the cops and the hookers and the bums and the hooligans shouting NOOO!  She caught the bright lights out of the corner of her eye as she stepped off the curb into the path of the juggernaut.  She froze in her tracks as Bill, blurry eyed, slammed on the brakes – but everyone knew it couldn’t stop in time.

The impact sent her flying twenty feet.  She held on tight to her baby as they fell to the pavement.  It was dark and quiet.  She was lost in a fog, unsure if she was dreaming or awake, or dead or alive.  What she thought was blood turned out to be sweat.  Was it all just a dream?  Dora willed herself awake.  Yes, she realized both sickened and relieved.  It was just a dream!  She looked at the doll lying next to her on the bed and remembered thinking it was a real baby.  “What was I thinking,” she thought?

“They must think I’m crazy!” she thought.  She got out of bed and splashed her face with cold water.  “I’ve never been prettier,” she said to her reflection smiling back at her.  She decided to take a long hot shower and she realized that something was not right with her mind and that it might be a good idea to see the psychiatrist the doctor had recommended.  She started to feel much better about herself as she toweled herself dry and she combed her hair and went back to bed only to discover in horror that her baby was gone.

Grief fell upon her like a dark cloud before the storm.  The storm came and she screamed and screamed like a wounded wild banshee.  They tried to console her but she was out of control.  They tried to reason with her but she was irrational.  They wrestled her to the ground and administered a shot which settled her down.  She’d always been afraid they were going to take her baby away.  She cursed herself for being so careless.  Dora swore to herself she would get her baby back and they’d never lay hands on either one of them ever again.

Hector Gomez, the night shift orderly, was just curious to see how Dora would react when she discovered her doll was missing.  He’d heard a rumor that she thought the doll was a real live human baby but he thought it was an exaggeration.  Who knew she’d go berserk the way she did?  He thought about just throwing the damn thing away but something touched his heart.  That poor demented woman felt so much love for the doll that to deprive her of that one pleasure would be exceptionally cruel.  So he raced down the hall leading to Dora’s room.