APRIL 10, 1992
As far back as 1992, being born at a hospital was the parents' right decision. At present, we remain informed that the elite deities of medicine have decreed that the first cries of the youth shall be uttered upon the brisk air of the delivery room. So much of a nuisance, Mr. Quinton and Mrs. Angelica Merlot permitted the doctors to carve their first child out.
Date: April 10, 1992
Time: 11:13 AM
Place: a Baltimore hospital
Name of baby: Christine Collins Merlot (AKA "Crysta")
The doctors noticed something distinguishable about the baby: Crysta was born a hermaphrodite. Her father was flabbergasted by the discovery that contradicted the ultrasound tests his wife got in the third trimester.
"This cannot be right! We expected to have a daughter; we instead have…whatever this is!"
One nurse responded as he handed Angelica a cozied-up Crysta, "We apologize to you both, but we can ensure your daughter is going to be okay." The mother hugged her baby and reached for her husband's hand. Quinton was briefly hesitant before he held on to Angelica.
NOVEMBER 25, 1993
Angelica held a Thanksgiving gathering at the family-owned winery around ten miles from FernGully, Maryland. Quinton's parents opened the business in 1971. It has been the most successful in the neighborhood—more so than the leading fast-food restaurants around the area. Angelica's drunk brother, Bart, was disturbed by a three-year-old nephew's attempt at opening a closet door.
"Hey, kid! You should not ruin our family treasure here! Now go beat it!" Bart swung his arm at the kid, but the latter scurried away to hide behind his father's legs. Relatives in Bart's proximity told him the little boy was only exploring, but his frequent wine drinking had already overwhelmed his conscience. "The boy was trying to destroy our business! Why won't you go talk some sense to him?!" With his peripheral vision, he spotted Angelica's golden retriever Bella reaching up to sniff the bottles of merlot stored on a wooden shelf.
"Down, girl," Angelica said, "I have some beef fat ready for you—"
Bart foolishly fired his .357 Magnum at the dog's underside and everyone already had enough.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Quinton shouted.
"Get the fuck out—you have ruined this Thanksgiving for all of us!" Angelica's mother pointed the door with rage.
"Is anyone going to play with me on my Super Nintendo? My mom bought me a second controller and Street Fighter II Turbo for good grades," a cousin asked.
Crysta's grandfather called the police to investigate the scene. Belle was already dead by the time they got here and Bart was taken into custody, but not before shouting to Angelica, "About your daughter—yeah, she is a total freak and you know it!" He spat at Angelica before the officials forced him into a police car. She picked up and held Crysta in her arms; Angelica reminded her child everything in the latter's life would be fine (except the dog).
SEPTEMBER 18, 1997
After a tiresome Thursday in kindergarten, Quinton and Angelica entered the classroom to hear concerning news from Crysta's teacher Mrs. Daggett. "I am concerned your child may have problems paying attention in class. She has been hiding behind her students during our ABCs session, daydreaming in P.E., and fidgeting with toys in math, not to mention she has been talking out of turn almost every day."
"So what can we do?" Angelica asked.
"You two should let a pediatrician look at her. In the teacher's manual, a child with those problems will need medication to calm them down."
"Hold on a moment, miss," Quinton affirmed, "We do not need to jump to drugging up our little Crysta. That ain't right! Do you know how many kids that went through drug experimentation grew up to be…" he leaned closer to Mrs. Daggett's face and whispered, "...drug addicts?"
"Sir, it is just a little Ritalin," Mrs. Daggett said shakingly.
"Yeah, sure! Even 'just a little Ritalin' will make our daughter end up like River Phoenix."
"Anyways, ma'am. Thank you for having us here with you. We will set up an appointment for our daughter as soon as possible," Angelica said as she and Quinton walked Crysta to the family sedan. Two days later at the pediatrician's office, they diagnosed Crysta with attention deficit hyperactive disorder (ADHD): a neurodevelopmental disorder often characterized by executive dysfunction, impulsivity, and hyperactivity.