[Lady Justice 16] - Lady Justice and the Organ Traders

by Robert Thornhill

  Finally, the big day arrived. I had become scraggly and ripe enough to convince most anyone that I was homeless and destitute.

  Before leaving the apartment, Maggie made me put the sheets that I had been using on the couch in a trash bag and promise that I would deposit them in the dumpster.

  A crime scene had been set up in Blue Valley Park on Kansas City’s far-east side. The M.E. was there with his body bag and Blackburn was ready with his tracking device. When everything was in order, the M.E. made the usual call for an ambulance, making sure he mentioned that the victim was a homeless man.

  ************************************

  ** Lady Justice and the Lottery

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  “What happens if Wally doesn’t get the text?” I asked. “The ambulance will be on its way?”

  “We’ll just say that somehow two ambulances were dispatched and the first one got the body.”

  “Yeah, I guess that could work.”

  Seconds stretched into minutes.

  I noticed that during our wait, everyone had moved upwind from me.

  Finally, Blackburn’s cell rang.

  “We’re on!” he said, snapping the cell closed. “Let’s get ready.”

  “Walt, go pee,” the M.E. ordered.

  “What?”

  “Go pee. We don’t know exactly how long you’ll be strapped into that thing. You have to remain perfectly still and we don’t want you having bladder issues.”

  That certainly made sense.

  I sprinted behind the nearest tree and went to work --- or at least I tried. Then I remembered --- bashful bladder. I just can’t pee under pressure. Every time I go to Doc Johnson’s, no matter how much water I drink ahead of time, filling his little cup is a major battle.

  I was in mid-stream when I heard, “Walt! Hurry! We can hear the siren just a few blocks away!”

  I shook, tucked, zipped and sprinted back to the crime scene.

  They had just zipped up the body bag when the ambulance pulled off the street into the park.

  I heard the driver climb out of the ambulance, open the rear doors and pull out the gurney.

  “What do we have?” he asked.

  “Homeless guy,” the M.E. replied. “Real scrawny, no coat, probably died of exposure. Typical bum. Let’s get him loaded. I’ve got a full day.”

  I felt myself being lifted onto the gurney.

  “Mind if I have a look?” the driver asked.

  “Help yourself.”

  I held my breath and did my best impression of a dead guy.

  I heard the bag unzip. “Whew! This is a ripe one! Sorry I looked.”

  My arms were at my side and when I felt the gurney straps tighten around me, I realized that I couldn’t budge even an inch.

  I had never really thought much about it, but suddenly, claustrophobia became very real.

  Everything was black, I couldn’t move and I could feel the vinyl of the body bag pressing against my forehead.

  I had been holding my breath, but when I felt the gurney being lifted into the ambulance and I heard the door slam shut, I began to hyperventilate.

  “Calm down! Calm down!” I kept telling myself.

  I heard the gears crunch and felt the ambulance pulling away.

  “Not long now. I can do this!”

  Then I remembered reading about soldiers in concentration camps who were able to endure physical hardships because they were somewhere else in their minds.

  I tried to go to happy places --- our honeymoon on Maui, a chicken-fried steak at Mel’s Diner, but it just wasn’t working.

  “Music! Music soothes the savage beast.”

  My head is crammed full of thousands of songs. I searched the rolodex in my brain looking for the right tune to take me away from my terror.

  For some reason the one that popped into my consciousness was Louis Armstrong’s St. James Infirmary.

  I went down --- down to St. James Infirmary.

  Saw my baby laying there.

  She was stretched out on a long white table.

  So sweet, so cool, so fair.

  It was not a big surprise that the lyrics didn’t do much to calm my nerves.

  Finally, it was the gentle swaying of the ambulance that helped me get it together.

  I had just felt my body start to relax when the next crisis struck.

  My nose began to itch.

  My first impulse was to reach up and scratch it, but my arms were pinned to my side.

  Although it is not life-threatening, a nose itch is something that cannot be ignored. I scrunched and twitched my nose hoping it would go away, but no such luck.

  Then I remembered the vinyl bag pressing against my forehead. I craned my neck backward until my nose came in contact with the hem of the zipper. I shook my head from side to side until at last --- blessed relief.

  I had been so absorbed with my travails that I had completely lost track of the time. I felt the ambulance slow down, turn, back up and stop. I heard the driver’s door slam and the back door swing open. I heard another tinny, metallic sound and felt the gurney being rolled toward the back door. The straps were loosened and I heard the driver say, “Adios, Grandpa,” as he shoved me out the back.

  Fortunately, it wasn’t a long drop and whatever I had landed on wasn’t too hard. I managed to not gasp or make a sound. I heard the tinny metallic sound again and the doors of the ambulance close. The engine came to life and the ambulance pulled away, leaving me alone in the dark.

  It was deathly quiet.

  Thankfully, I had landed on my back, so breathing wasn’t an issue. At least my arms were free again. I needed something to occupy my mind, so I began counting, one --- two --- three ---.

  I had just reached nine hundred which I figured was about fifteen minutes when I heard footsteps approaching.

  I heard the tinny sound again and then a familiar voice, “Walt! Are you okay?”

  “Ox! Thank God! Get me out of here!”

  The bag unzipped and I saw daylight and Ox’s smiling face.

  I looked around and discovered that I had been left in a dumpster.

  By the time I climbed out, I was covered with goo and smelled even worse.

  I noticed that Ox had come for me in a paddy wagon. “Hope you don’t mind riding in the back,” he said, holding his nose.

  I had brought a clean change of clothes to the precinct that morning. After a shower and a shave, I joined Ox in the captain’s office.

  “Well?” I asked expectantly. “What did we get?”

  I saw the forlorn look on Blackburn’s face. “Not much I’m afraid. We nailed the driver, but it was another dead end. Like Wally Burton, the driver gets a text from a burner phone directing him where to pick up and deliver the body. It’s a different location each time. He’s paid in cash. A thousand bucks just like Wally. We we’re hoping that someone would come along right away to pick you up, but after fifteen minutes we were starting to worry about you, so we bailed.”

  “So all that for nothing,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Maybe not. At least they know we’re onto them. It might slow them down a bit. We’re going to need another break if we’re going to nail these guys. They’re real pros.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Beth Summers rolled the NxStage System One cycler to the side of her bed, hung the fresh bag of ultrapure dialysate on the hook and attached the other end of the tubing to the syringe which she would slip into her arm.

  Five months ago, her failing kidneys slipped into Stage Five and she had been on hemodialysis ever since. The five-hour treatments three days a week were taking their toll. Her nephrologist had warned her about the possible side effects of the treatment, cramps, backache, headache, dizziness, nausea and fatigue. She had experienced them all, but the worst was the fatigue.

  Keeping up with two boys, ages thirteen and fifteen, was a difficult job for a mother in prime health. For Beth, it was a near impossibility.

&nb
sp; She had scheduled her treatments on Monday, Wednesday and Friday while the boys were in school. She avoided the weekends when they would be home, demanding her time and attention.

  After the hectic weekends, she was barely able to set up her equipment after the boys were off to school.

  Her husband, Josh, had been a trooper throughout the ordeal. He was willing to help as much as possible but when her illness forced her to give up her job, Josh had worked every opportunity that came along just to make ends meet.

  She had been on the kidney transplant waiting list from the beginning stages of her illness but the prospects of her actually finding a donor were slim. Close to a 100,000 people were on the waiting list. She had read that during the previous year, less than 20,000 patients had received transplants and another 5,000 had died while waiting for the miracle that never came. The odds were not in her favor.

  She had to bite her lip to keep from crying as she uncovered the fistula in an arm that had once been slim and pretty, but was now swollen and knotty from the repeated invasions of the big syringe.

  When everything was in place, she flipped the switch on the cycler and laid back in the bed.

  Her mind drifted back to a time when she was full of energy and could romp and play with her young family.

  Tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks knowing that those days were probably gone forever.

  It was almost 5:30 when Josh Summers got the call. “Dad, this is Braden. Mom was supposed to pick us up from soccer practice, but she never showed. What should we do?”

  Josh looked at his watch. His shift was almost over. He could time out early. “Just hang tight. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  On the way to the soccer field, he called home but there was no answer.

  When they pulled into the driveway, Beth’s car was exactly where it had been when he had left that morning.

  He ordered the boys to stay in the car, dreading what he might find inside.

  He found Beth, lying on the floor at the foot of the bed. She was cold but still breathing.

  He covered her with a blanket and called 911. A half hour later, Josh and his boys watched the ambulance speed away carrying the most precious person in their lives.

  “We were lucky this time, Josh,” Dr. Kumar said, trying to break the news as gently as possible. “Beth collapsed from exhaustion and fatigue. We can get her back on her feet temporarily but she’s going to have to cut back on her activities. You may have to have some in-home care.”

  “But she’s going to get better, isn’t she, Doc?”

  Dr. Kumar wanted with all his heart to say ‘yes,’ but he knew there was nothing to be gained by giving Josh false hope. “I have to be honest with you. If Beth doesn’t find a donor soon --- ”

  “How long, Doc? How long does she have?”

  “Maybe six months, but even that’s optimistic.”

  Josh drove home in a daze, trying his best to process what he had heard. He couldn’t imagine what life would be like without his wife and he wondered how he was going to explain to his boys that they were going to have to live without their mother.

  Donald Mason listened quietly as Josh shared the events of the previous night.

  Josh was one of his brightest and best engineers and had been with the company almost ten years.

  During that time, Mason had gotten close to the family. When Beth’s kidneys began to fail, he had thrown extra work Josh’s way to help offset the mounting bills. A tear welled in his eye as Josh shared Dr. Kumar’s devastating message.

  “I hate to ask, Don, but I’m going to have to take some time off. Beth will be released tomorrow and I have to be there to take care of her until I can find someone to help.”

  Mason didn’t answer immediately. He had been weighing the pros and cons of sharing some information with Josh that he had promised he would never share with another living soul. What he was about to reveal could possibly put a member of his own family in danger, but as he listened to the grieving husband across the desk and thought about the two boys that had become like grandsons to him, he made his decision.

  “Josh, I’m going to share something with you that might possibly help your situation, but you must PROMISE that you will never breathe a word of it to anyone else.”

  “Of course,” Josh replied, wondering what Mason could possibly do to ease his pain.

  Mason drew a deep breath. “Several years ago, my wife’s brother was in the same situation as Beth. He was given just a few months to live and was far down on the donor list. Through a mutual friend, he came in contact with a man that was able to supply a donor kidney --- for a price --- a very high price.”

  Josh was speechless. “But --- but, isn’t that illegal?”

  Mason smiled. “Indeed it is, but sometimes we look the other way when the life of a loved one is on the line. I trust you, Josh. That’s why I’m sharing this with you. It might just save Beth’s life.”

  “You said ‘price.’ What are we talking about?”

  “Probably a hundred thousand or thereabouts.”

  The color drained from Josh’s face. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “I know it would be a stretch for you Josh, but I thought with Beth’s condition being what it is that you should have the information. Think about it. See what you can do. If you’re anywhere close, maybe Martha and I can help.”

  On the way home, Josh started adding up every possible penny he could lay his hands on, their dwindling savings, the boy’s college fund, his retirement account, the equity in their home. He was sure he could get a second mortgage. If everything fell into place, he might be able to scrape together $85,000. If Don could lend him the rest maybe --- just maybe.

  “Absolutely not!” Beth said, with all the strength she could muster. “I’ll not let you bankrupt this family for me. You’re young --- you’ll find someone else. The boys are old enough to understand. They’ll be fine.”

  “But I don’t want someone else! I want you! And no, the boys won’t understand why we didn’t do everything we could to save their mother.”

  “Surely you haven’t told them!”

  “You bet I did. This isn’t just about you and me. It’s a family decision. They had a right to know.”

  Josh motioned for the boys who had been waiting just outside the bedroom.

  “Tell her.”

  “You’re our mom. We love you and don’t want to lose you. We’ll do whatever it takes to keep you with us.”

  “Time to vote,” Josh said. “Everyone in favor of buying Mom a new kidney, raise your hand.”

  Three hands shot up.

  “Looks like we have a winner!”

  Tears flowed like water as the family embraced, and for the first time in months there was a glimmer of hope in the Summers’ household.

  CHAPTER 7

  “You did what?” Maggie exclaimed as I shared my latest escapade posing as a cadaver. “I can’t imagine being closed up and tied down like that.” She gave a little shudder.

  Earlier in our relationship, I had tried to soft-pedal or even avoid talking about the unpleasantness that is often part of my job, but I soon discovered that was a big mistake. Somehow, Maggie always discovered the truth and when she realized that I had been holding back, I was in deep doo-doo.

  I suspect that Ox shares our exploits with his wife, Judy, and of course, Judy spills the beans to her best bud, Maggie, so now, I’m upfront about everything.

  Once Maggie gets over the initial shock that always comes when she realizes that her partner has just survived another near-death experience, things usually take a more pleasant turn.

  After she chastises me for being such an ‘old fool,’ we usually wind up between the sheets celebrating the fact that we have been given another day together.

  After a week on the couch during my ‘ripening’ period, that was exactly what I was hoping for.

  I was about to drop some ‘not-so-subtle’ hints when ther
e was a knock at the door.

  “Expecting someone?” she asked.

  “Absolutely not!” I replied, sensing that I might have to put my libido on hold.

  She padded to the door, opened it, and I heard an unfamiliar voice say, “Hi Maggie. It’s been a long time.”

  I heard Maggie gasp and finally say, “Kevin? Is that really you?”

  That exchange brought me to my feet. My first thought was that some old flame had come knocking, trying to rekindle an old romance.

  Maggie was standing stock still, staring at a mountain of a man that appeared to be a few years older than me. The hair on his head and the full beard that covered his face were bright orange tinted with gray.

  “You must be Walt,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Kevin McBride, Maggie’s brother.”

  Now I was the one speechless. I knew very little about Maggie’s family. Her parents were deceased and I had heard her mention an older brother, but he had disappeared when she was a teen. She hadn’t seen the man in over fifty years.

  Maggie was still in shock.

  “Come in, please,” I said, stepping aside. “Have a seat. I’m sure the two of you have some catching up to do.”

  Maggie was still trying to process everything. “I --- I thought you were dead.”

  “That’s what you were supposed to think,” Kevin said, apologetically. “I’m so sorry, but for your sake as well as mine, I couldn’t contact you. I’ve been in witness protection all these years.”

  “Witness protection! But what? How? I don’t understand.”

  “I got mixed up with the wrong crowd, Maggie. You probably remember that Dad was on the road a lot. I’m not trying to use that as an excuse, but when kids are left on their own, sometimes they make bad decisions. Do you remember Bugsy? He hung around the house a lot.”