The Orphans' Nine Commandments

Chapter 17

q17Q When we returned home, I abandoned the judges and the courts and instead searched for Paul Minter, my so-called Uncle Paul, who had befriended me as a child. Could he shed light on the mystery of Joseph Bechan, my father? Or was Uncle Paul or Will Minter my father? But their home phone numbers were no longer listed. I finally found Paul Minter’s former secretary. She thought Dr. Walter Dardis’ son might know how to locate the Minter family. Through a computer search, I found Dr. Walter Dardis Jr. in Pueblo, Colorado. I phoned him and asked if he knew the whereabouts of the Minters. He said that he hadn’t kept up with the family . “Call my sister in Oklahoma City. Her name is Romilda Heyser.” I phoned her. She also remembered the Minter family, but hadn’t followed them for years. “Talk to Lucy O’Toole. She was Father’s nurse when he had his office in the Petroleum Building. She knew the Minters.” 217 I called Mrs. O’Toole. It was June 16, 1993, and she was at home in Oklahoma City. “Hello. This is William Holman in Austin, Texas. Is this Lucy O’Toole?” “Yes, it is.” “Were you once a nurse for Dr. Walter T. Dardis?” “Back in the thirties. Who did you say you are?” “Mrs. O’Toole, you probably don’t remember me, but when I was a small boy, my mother regularly brought me to Dr. Dardis for checkups . Later, I lived with Helen Minter.” “The Minters have passed away.” “I understand.” “And as I recall, your name was Roger.” “Yes, Roger Bechan.” “Did you know that your mother and Dr. Dardis were close friends?” “I loved to visit his office. He often handed me treats.” She hesitated for a moment. Then she spoke in a firm voice. “I’m at that age where I needn’t keep secrets anymore.” A long pause hung in the air. “Dr. Dardis was your father.” With my heart thumping, my mind floating in a fog of confusion, I slumped in my chair. Dr. Dardis was the last name I had expected to hear. Finally I stammered, “Mrs. O’Toole, I must talk with you further. May I fly up and see you tomorrow?” “That’ll be fine. This may have been painful for you to hear, but I feel it needed to be told.” Lucy’s revelations lifted the curtain of intrigue hanging over my life, but I remained bewildered, even while jubilant. Questions flooded my mind. Would she know when and how Dr. Dardis and my mother met? Why didn’t my father rescue me from the Society for the Friendless? Were Helen and Will Minter related to my father? I couldn’t wait to fit the pieces of my life’s puzzle into place. The following morning, after a hastily arranged flight, my wife 218 and I arrived on Lucy’s doorstep in Oklahoma City. Mrs. O’Toole, a lady with brilliant red hair and white porcelain skin, took us into the past with her tales. My “teller of truths” talked about my mother, my father, and me. She brought all three of us together so naturally that it seemed a Broadway play was being performed before our eyes. She said it was time I knew about my father. “You look like him. You have his lanky frame, large facile hands, and unusual ears. And look at those blue eyes. They look like your father’s. Yes, you are the doctor’s son. But I’m hesitant to share these memories with the Dardis children. They would be so shocked and I swore to keep his secret just as the Minters did.” “But what about my mother?” “I only knew your mother as one of the doctor’s patients. Mrs. Bechan was not a young woman, but tall with fine features and wavy hair turning gray. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, possibly forty.” She said that Mother would enter the reception room, greet her briefly, then walk back to the doctor’s office. Some days she came alone and other days I tagged along. “On one occasion, when your mother and the doctor were having problems, she walked out of the office and left you with a box containing your clothes.” “A cardboard box?” “Why yes, a small box. The doctor asked me to take...