Short Story Saturday

Glenda hummed as she washed the newborn baby, for the first time. She'd been working in the Labor and Delivery department for 24 years, and she never got tired of giving the little ones a bath.
This young man that she was bathing now was a big boy, weighing in at 9 pounds 6 oz. His poor mother had managed a natural birth, and was now being stitched up for her troubles. "Glad he's got some meat on him, it makes it easier" she thought to herself.
Glancing over at the bassinette, she looked to see what name had been given to the little tyke.
"David Dwight Wilson, is it?" she asked the squirmy baby boy, then laughed when he seemed to smile at her. "Ah, Davy, You are a strapping lad, that is for sure" she murmured, not hurrying to complete the task. She hate hate HATED what had to be done next, but, it had been ordered by young Dr. Jackson, so she had to do it.
Once she was done washing young David, she snuggled him down into a warmed blanket, and took him back over to his bassinette, where she gently applied baby lotion to his soft skin, and powdered his behind. Next came the diaper, this one with Elmo on it, being careful not to disturb the umbilical cord piece that would fall off in about a weeks time, leaving David a belly button. "Will you be an innie, or an outie?" she asked him as she fastened the sticky tape that held the diaper in place.
" Well, no help for it now" she thought to herself. "I can't avoid doing it forever."
Sighing, she took the baby over into the next room. It was a warm room, it needed to be, for babies were not very good at maintaining their own body heat at such a young age. All around the room, there were tables, with tiny "papoose" slings on them. Approaching one, Glenda put young David into the papoose, and placed a pacifier in his mouth. Not liking anything about his new position, David spit the pacifier out and began to yowl loudly.
"There there", soothed Glenda, as she gathered what she needed to complete the procedure. Not soothed at all, David struggled mightily against the papoose, to no avail.
Glenda quickly and efficiently put everything together, then took a deep, quick breath, and sent up a quick prayer for steady hands. Turning towards the baby, she exposed one chubby leg, and, quickly, sank in the large-ish needle, and depressed the plunger. His yowling stopped for a mere second as he held his breath against the pain, then, in shock and disbelief, David let out his cry, protesting her invasion.
Finished with the odious chore, Glenda found a Batman band-aid and placed it over the injection site. Removing the small boy from the papoose, she held and comforted him, and he quickly forgot his pain, falling asleep from the already long day he'd had. Rolling the bassinette gently towards the door, she heard the 'beep!' as they passed through it. Once they got back to the nursery, another nurse took the baby to his mother, who was now ready to have him 'room in' with her.
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6 years later:

Evangeline waited impatiently outside of the kindergarten for her son, David to emerge from the doors. She was busy, had many things to do, and David, her son, always seemed to lollygag when it was time to go. Most of the other kids had wandered out already, collected by their harried mothers for the ride home.
Tapping her foot, she waited, a moment longer,looking for her tow headed son with his bright blue eyes. She glanced at her watch, and then decided that she would have to go in and get the boy, or he would never come out.
Entering the school room, all she saw was the teacher, Mrs. Grace, sitting behind the desk. There were no other students in the room.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Grace?" said Evangeline, trying not to panic. "Where, exactly, is David?"
"David?" asked Mrs. Grace. "David was not in school today, Mrs. Wilson. Was he supposed to be?"
Blood rushing out of her head, Evangeline fainted.
Concerned, Mrs. Grace hit the panic button under her desk (one never knew with kindergarteners) and went to the side of the fainted woman.
Eyelids fluttering, Evangeline came to to see four heads over hers. And none of them belonged to her son. "Where is my son?" she demanded, shakily.
"We don't know" answered Mrs. Grace. "He was never here today."
"My husband, he dropped him off!" she stammered. Gaining her feet, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed her husband.
"Where is David!" she asked before he could say hello.
"How the hell should I know?" he answered. "I left him at the school this morning".
"Well he isn't here, and Mrs. Grace says he has not been here ALL DAY" she screamed into the phone.
The principal, Mr. Gordon, who had rushed into the room when the panic bell had rung, was already on the phone to the police.
"We will be there shortly" said Captain Anderson, once he heard what the situation was.
Before long, the sobbing parents were on the news, and flyers featuring young David were spread through out town. Big, blue eyes and a mischevious smile shined out under a messy fringe of blond hair. Glenda, now retired, remembered that name, David Dwight Wilson. He'd been one of the last babies she'd taken care of.
"I wonder if they remember?" she thought to herself. From her rocking chair, being careful not to distub the sleeping cat in her lap, she reached out for the telephone, and dialed the number for the police.
"Detective Anderson, please" she asked. "I have information about the kidnaped boy that may help him" she said.
"Andy, some crack pot on the phone who says she has information" hollered out the desk monkey. Hearing herself refered to as a 'crack pot' made Glenda grit her teeth, but she hung on the line, for what she had to say was important.
"Yeah yeah" answered the detective. Picking up the phone, he identified himself. Listening in disbelief, he started writing in his notepad. "Thanks, nurse" he muttered, then hung up the phone, and headed for the door.
"The crackpot actually had something good?" called out the desk monkey, but it was too late. Detective Anderson was already out the door, and running.
Shortly, he pulled up to the community hospital, and ran directly to the records department. Flashing his badge, he demanded the medical record of David Dwight Wilson. The clerk found it in a reasonably quick amount of time, and he was off again, back to the station.
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Ten miles away, a little boy sat tearfully at a table in an unkempt, broken down trailer in the Pink Flamingo Trailer Park and Bait Shop. A plastic plate with the Power Puff girls decorating it was in front of him, with a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich on cheap white bread squished onto it. A few, stale frito's lay limply to the side. In front of the plate, was a mickey mouse cup filled with cherry kool-aid.
"My Mom gives me carrots and milk for my snack" he said, softly, to the woman who was sitting at the other side of the table, staring at him intently.
"She ain't your Ma, I am" snapped the woman. You had best get that straight now, Ian. You are my son, and they stole you. Now eat your sandwich before your father gets home."
Crying now, David took a bite of the sandwich, trying not to gag. He hated grape jelly. The woman, in her ratty pink and green house dress, with blue slippers got up, and moved into the living room. It was time for her soap opera. Turning on the TV, she saw the picture of the child flash in front of her, and cursed, turning the TV off quickly. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the boy was still crying over his plate, and had not seen himself on the TV. She patted her curlers in her lank blonde hair, to make sure they remained in place, and belched. "Damn TV news" she thought, and picked up the worn copy of the National Enquirer. Soon, she was engrossed deeply in the downfalls of Britney and Lindsay, and she forgot about the crying boy at the table.
Suddenly, at almost dark, the door burst open. Eyes wide, her hands went up to her hair and began to tug out the curlers. LeRoy hated to come home and find her still in curlers. But it wasn't LeRoy. It was a swarm of cops. She found herself, thrown to the floor, and hand cuffed. "Lurline MacKay, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of David Dwight Wilson" she was told.
"How'd you find us so quick?" she gasped in disbelief.
"Simple" laughed Detective Anderson. "David here was injected with an experimental micro-chip when he was born. You, my dear, had the misfortune of taking a child who was chipped with one of the first Lo-Jack microchips to be invented. Nice job."
"Can I take out my curlers, at least?" she asked. "LeRoy won't bail me out if I am still in curlers."
"Where you are going, you won't need bail" said Anderson, grinning....