The Shibari Knot

by Eliza Master

  “I have a proposition for you,” said Gayle, recapturing Katrina’s attention. “Would you like to be a surrogate for a special egg?”

  “Umm.” Katrina leaned forward in her chair, intrigued.

  “I could pay you $50,000 if you carry to term.” Now Gayle leaned toward Katrina.

  “Wow. Yes, of course.” For $50,000, Katrina would do almost anything. She would be able to get a new car and buy whatever she wanted!

  “Could you start this weekend?”

  “Yeah, I guess. What makes the egg special? And what would happen to the baby after it’s born?”

  “Let me explain.” Gayle reached across her desk and patted Katrina’s shoulder. “The egg will be pre-fertilized. It’s one of Renata’s.” Leaning back in her chair again, Gayle said, “You’ll be a surrogate only. The results of the pregnancy will be owned by me, so it will only take nine months at most. Make sense?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Katrina replied.

  “I had another candidate, but she fell through. Also, she was a bit old. You’re 22, right?’

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “So you could get the egg implanted on Saturday.” Today was Thursday. Gayle pushed a canister of capsules towards Katrina.

  “How many should I take?” Katrina saw that the capsules were filled with the same gray powder she put in Renata’s coffee every morning.

  “Just one a day. And start after Saturday’s appointment. There are enough there for a month.” Then Gayle pulled out a contract and turned it toward Katrina. “Here’s a simple contract. Go ahead and look it over.”

  Katrina picked up the papers: three pages total. She wondered if Gayle had written it herself. The contract reiterated that Katrina would have no claim to the results of the pregnancy no matter what. All medical expenses would be covered. There would be two implantation procedures with long names. Apparently they had more of Renata’s fertilized eggs. The contract said If Katrina carried the fetus until birth, it would be adopted into a good home. Katrina wasn’t at all worried about becoming attached to the pregnancy. She was just doing it for the money, and besides, she didn’t even like babies.

  At the bottom of page two was the payment schedule. Katrina would get $5000 per month, with a final payment of $10,000 at the birth. If she didn’t carry to full term, the incremental payments would stop when the fetus was lost, with only one payment after termination. The last page had a non-disclosure/confidentiality agreement and a one-time renewal contract.

  “Renewal contract?” Katrina asked, a tad puzzled.

  “Yes, in case the first egg doesn’t take, we would have the option to try again with the same terms.”

  “Would the $50,000 start over then?”

  “Absolutely.” Gayle’s offer was incredible; Katrina could make even more money if the first try didn’t work. She would have more money than she’d ever dreamed of.

  Gayle placed a pen next to the contract with the point facing the signature line. Without hesitating, Katrina signed the bottom of both pages and pushed them back across the desk. Gayle folded the copies and tucked them into her desk drawer.

  “Thank you for your help.” Gayle handed a blank envelope to Katrina. “Here’s the first check, and I’ll text you the details for Saturday’s appointment,” She rose and smiled what was clearly a dismissal.

  “Okay. And thank you.” Katrina left the office beaming, with the unopened envelope in her hand.

  10

  Eggs

  Saturday morning at 8:30 Katrina hopped into the waiting taxi. Gayle had arranged the pick-up to take her to the clinic in Oakland. The driver didn’t try to make conversation, and Katrina spread out in the backseat, looking out at the city from the comfort of the cool air-conditioned interior. Pop music was playing quietly on the radio, and Katrina hummed along, unable to contain her excitement and nervousness.

  Katrina had brought the bottle of pills from Gayle and planned on taking the first one after the procedure, just as Gayle had instructed. She took the $5000 check out of its envelope. Her hands tingled at the touch; she was still amazed at being a part of such a plan as this. Next Monday she would open a bank account and would use a fake name if she could figure out how. Then she could keep this surrogate scheme totally secret. After all, she didn’t want her parents or any of Agri-Gen’s people in her business. Would that account really fill up to fifty grand or even more? Katrina would use the money to buy new clothes, shoes, and purses, all designer stuff, like what Renata wore. Then she’d move to a bigger place with a view of the Bay, like the Agri-Gen building.

  They drove in silence as Katrina plotted her future. She was getting a little nervous about the implantation. Would it hurt? She searched egg implantation on her phone, just to make sure she knew what she was getting herself in to. Two processes called embryo and intra-fallopian transfers came up. Katrina had no idea which one they would be doing today, but she hoped it would be the embryo transfer because it sounded pretty straightforward. Basically, they stuck the egg in her with a catheter, turkey baster style. That didn’t sound too bad.

  It was the other one that had her worried. The intra-fallopian procedure meant they would inject the eggs from the outside with a laparoscope. That meant they would cut into her on the front of her hip. Katrina had never had surgery or been under anesthesia. She reassured herself the money would be worth it, and that Gayle would take care of her. In a few short hours, the egg would be inside her, and she wouldn’t have to worry about anything.

  The taxi stopped in front of an old house. There was a small sign on the door that said, “New Beginnings.” The house next door had a “For Rent” sign in the lawn.

  “Thank you,” Katrina said to the driver.

  “I was already paid,” responded the driver. “And I’ll be here to take you home afterwards.”

  Katrina entered and was relieved to see that it was a real doctor’s office. There was a waiting area with chairs. The carpet was clean, and there were toys in the corner.

  “Katrina Anderson?” A receptionist strolled over to Katrina. Anderson? Wow. Well, why not pretend she was Gayle’s daughter? Gayle was the right age to be her mother, and that would make her involvement seem completely natural. And after all, Gayle owned the egg and what it would become.

  “Yes ,that’s me,” said Katrina, pleased with the new identity.

  “We’ll be right with you. Please have a seat.”

  The place was smaller than Katrina had expected, and she was the only patient. Maybe Saturday was a slow day for eggs? Katrina laughed at that, not knowing why it was funny. There were parenting magazines on a small table, and Katrina picked up a Family Circle and started leafing though it.

  “Right this way.” The receptionist reappeared holding a bright yellow folder, and Katrina followed her though a door into the back and into an exam room. Then the receptionist became a nurse.

  “Sit here. Can you roll up your sleeve for me, please?” She took Katrina’s blood pressure and pulse. “When was your last period? And have you ever been pregnant before?”

  “Umm, two weeks ago. And no.”

  “When did you last have sex?”

  “Last week,” Katrina lied. It had been quite a while, maybe six months or more, but Katrina didn’t want to appear like a loser.

  The nurse smiled benignly, barely listening. “So after the procedure, we ask that you wait for one week until you have intercourse again. And we’re going to need a blood sample.”

  She stuck a needle in Katrina’s arm. Katrina stared at the laminated tiles on the exam room floor; they had a wavy line pattern. She was trying to pretend she was somewhere else. She felt queasy already. Fortunately the nurse-receptionist was already putting a Band-Aid over the red blood prick inside her elbow. She worked without chatting, not trying to reach out to Katrina at all. She didn’t ask or seem to care about the egg. Had Gayle made up a phony story, or were these people in cahoots with the whole deal? wondered Katrina. Also, there had been no
paperwork or forms to be signed. Was that odd?

  “This is Doctor Larsen,” said the nurse as a blonde woman stepped into the room. Her conservative shoes tapped over to Katrina.

  “Call me Emma,” said the blonde doctor. “You’re Katrina? Wonderful.” She was very nice and smiled at Katrina. Katrina smiled back. “Gayle told me about you, and we’re all really excited about the baby. I promise we’re going to take good care of you. Now, please take everything off except your socks and let the gown open to the front. Lie on the table once you’re changed.” The doctor and nurse left the room, and Katrina undressed. The paper on the exam table crinkled underneath her.

  “Ready?” said the nurse when she and the doctor returned. The nurse eased Katrina’s legs apart and into the stirrups that jutted diagonally of the exam table. Then she wheeled over a large machine.

  “The ultrasound will help us with placement. You might feel a little cramping when I insert the catheter. Let me know if it’s too much, and we can do something about it.” The doctor was smiling down at Katrina again.

  “Okay,” said Katrina weakly. She hoped it wouldn’t be too painful. The queasiness was in full force now, and she just wanted the whole thing to be over. They put warm lubricant on her belly and rolled the ultrasound ball over her abdomen. The nurse made little x marks on the ultrasound screen, and the women exchanged glances. Katrina watched but didn’t recognize anything, even though she knew it was her own body.

  “That’s a good spot,” said the doctor. The nurse held the picture on the screen with light pressure on Katrina’s belly. Very quickly the doctor inserted something into Katrina. She felt a sharp cramp. It hurt, but she held still, and it was over fast. Her fists opened as the catheter was withdrawn.

  “All done?’ Katrina asked.

  “Almost,” said the doctor.

  The woman operating the ultrasound said, “I need to put this mask over your eyes for a moment.” She slipped a soft eye mask over Katrina’s face. “Squeeze my hand as hard as you can,” said the nurse. Katrina squeezed as a breathing mask was placed over her face. She was floating. Where was she, and why couldn’t she see? Katrina tried to lift her hand to remove the mask, but it felt too heavy. She felt some pinching and scratching on her belly, but it didn’t hurt. Katrina felt good now, and she was being taken care of; that she knew.

  Meanwhile, the doctor had picked up a large needle filled with two fertilized embryos and amniotic fluid. She told the nurse that Ms. Anderson had paid big money to make sure one of these would come to term; that was why they would put two in each tube as well as inserting two directly into the uterus. With six potentials, at least one would survive. Or maybe multiple fertilizations could happen. At least the girl was nice and young, thought the doctor, as Katrina snored quietly.

  Katrina didn’t flinch when the long needle pierced her skin and went deep into her fallopian tube, guided by the ultrasound machine. The other side went just as smoothly. Dr. Larsen had never implanted into three locations on one patient before, but everything was going well. In less than forty-five minutes, the procedure was over.

  Katrina was foggy as they helped her back into the taxi. They gave her some pain meds, and told her to take it easy for a few days. She got dropped off at her basement apartment, which was warm in the San Francisco chill. She padded over the thick, renters’ brown carpet. It let off a bad odor near the kitchen.

  The rent was cheap, and it was close to the bus stop, but Katrina couldn’t wait to move. The procedure had made her tired, and being Renata’s assistant had lost its appeal, especially now that Katrina was making $5000 a month without even going to work. She had phoned in sick three days in a row. On the fourth day she’d received a text from Gayle. Are you feeling ok? We need you to return to work. Perhaps Gayle had no one else to dose Renata’s coffee, thought Katrina. Renata herself had probably not even noticed she was out.

  Katrina returned to Agri-Gen. She resumed dosing Renata’s coffee daily, and now took the same amount of powder herself in capsules. Renata was pregnant with a treasure, thought Katrina, but she also had a secret inside her body. And her secret was very real, and the very same secret as her boss’s.

  The sildenafil in the powder was affecting Katrina in ways she didn’t understand. She felt juicy and edible. Maybe others felt it too. It was like she was effervescing pheromones. Even on the street, Katrina noticed both men and woman looking at her from top to bottom. Were her breasts getting bigger? Was the pregnancy making her glow? Sexual fantasies filled her head.

  At lunch, Katrina met an older gentleman in the deli across from Agri-Gen. They sat opposite each other, but alone at different tables. He was having a BLT, Katrina a Rueben. The man approached her with his partially eaten sandwich. “Can I join you?”

  “Please,” Katrina replied coyly, letting her eye dance across his body and land on his jeans zipper. He told her he lived around the corner. Would she like to have some tea on his balcony? he asked. Again Katrina said yes. She didn’t bother telling anyone that she wasn’t coming back to work for the afternoon.

  The man’s apartment was neat but spartan, like he hadn’t quite moved in. Katrina didn’t care, and they didn’t have tea either. Immediately the man pushed her on the bed as she rapidly undressed him. He didn’t talk as he removed her shirt and bra. He pulled off her leggings and fucked her hard, while Katrina enjoyed every minute of it. She had never felt this good in her whole life, and she hadn’t even kissed him. It was straight fucking. She had an orgasm before she could think about it, the first one with a man ever. Then she had another.

  Katrina was game for more, but the guy had come already and couldn’t get it up again. She made an effort at a blow-job, but he stayed limp as a fish. She hadn’t noticed that he was bald until now. Was that black furry thing on the floor a toupee? Throwing her clothes on, Katrina marched to the door. “See you around.” She didn’t bother getting his name.

  Katrina’s body was on an accelerated speed, and her brain was too. She was trying to figure out how to get in on Gayle’s deal. Fifty grand was a hefty sum, but it was possible she could make even more. If the implanted eggs didn’t take, she would have a second chance to try again; but what if that didn’t work?

  Perhaps she could get pregnant with Renata’s special DNA another way. Poking around online, it didn’t take Katrina long to find out about Renata’s family. She saw that there was a brother, and the family had moved around a lot. Her brother Jamie had an address in eastern Oregon, at the Double B Cattle Ranch. Previous addresses had him listed on other ranches nearby. Katrina supposed he was working there. Maybe he was lonely, thought Katrina, and he would like to meet a city girl. His sperm would also have Renata’s valuable proteins, Katrina reasoned. At the very least, she could try to get a sample from him to sell to Gayle for testing.

  Katrina logged into her Tinder account and changed the address to Pendleton, the closest city to where Jamie was working. Sure enough, he came right up. Katrina chuckled to herself. His description read, I’m Jamie, just a simple hardworking guy looking for a pretty lady to spend time with. I like fishing, hunting, quads and barbecues. Katrina could work with that. Jamie’s profile photos showed a thin, muscular guy with a light mustache. He was wearing a cowboy hat and had a picture of a tattoo on his bicep of a skull and roses.

  Jamie was not very handsome, and looked nothing like his sister Renata. Genetics was a mystery for sure, thought Katrina. She touched the heart icon and eagerly waited for a response.

  11

  Originalle

  No powder for Renata this morning was the text message from Gayle. Now Katrina had even more of an excuse not to show up for work. But she worried that Gayle might try to recruit other young women in the office for surrogates as well, so she decided to go in. She swallowed some anti-nausea pills she had picked up at the drug store to counteract the possibility of morning sickness; according to her phone calendar, she was officially one month pregnant.

  This morning
Katrina felt guilty delivering coffee to Renata even without the powder. Could the pregnancy be affecting her morals? She had noticed Renata was getting rounder, but unfairly she still looked ravishing. “Here’s your coffee. Is there anything else I can do for you?” Katrina tried to project innocence, but the impression she gave was plain ditzy.

  “Thanks.” The warm coffee at work had become a solace for Renata. She craved it before it came. Somehow her home brewed coffee just wasn’t the same. This coffee always fueled hours of productivity, and the day would slip by. She would have to ask what kind it was. Renata took the cup from Katrina and savored the strong liquid. It tasted weaker than usual; Renata hoped they hadn’t changed beans.

  Renata didn’t have to manage the yohimbe farm anymore. Instead she was proofing projected Agri-Gen investments and evaluating their efficiency. Which projects were favored to be more lucrative? Renata took a look at some tea plant hybrids targeted for Southern India and Sri Lanka. This product was a likely success. She made a note to submit for additional funding on the prospective.

  Renata also knew that Agri-Gen would need another sample farm soon. The farm in Brazil was heavily planted, and there wasn’t much arable space left. What would be the most ideal location? Perhaps near the current one, her former property in Mairiporã? Renata checked the regional news for land sales and updates.

  On a whim, she clicked on a link to a protest from Originalle, the group that was against seed modification in Brazil. They were claiming that Renata’s Guatemala project was contaminating neighboring farms through cross-pollination. Agri-Gen had given the employees complimentary corn and vegetable seeds to plant in between the yohimbe trees. These fed the farm hands and allowed a little private enterprise on the side – a small farmers’ market. That was a win-win. Maybe they should offer free seed to the neighbors too?