The Shibari Knot

by Eliza Master

  “Miguel?” Renata called. “Miguel!”

  Sarah dashed out of the kitchen. “Señora? You have baby?” she asked. “I get Señor.” She reappeared with Miguel.

  “Renata, are you okay?”

  “I think my water broke.” She stood and pointed to the wet area on the couch. “I hope the sofa can be cleaned.”

  “The sofa doesn’t matter. You do. And the baby.” Miguel helped her sit back down, and then turned away to call the doctor. “Yes, her water might have broken. Blood? I’ll check.” Miguel examined the stain. There were a few small blood spots on the cushions. “Contractions?” Miguel leaned toward Renata. “Have you had any contractions?”

  “Maybe… one or two?” If they had been contractions, they hadn’t hurt.

  Miguel hung up and put an arm around her. “You’re going to be fine,” he told her.

  The doctor arrived. She smiled calmly and took Renata’s hand.

  “Will he be okay?” Renata asked.

  “We will do our best, but the longer you can carry the better,” said the doctor.

  Miguel helped Renata to the bedroom and left the room so that the examination was private.

  “Your amniotic sac tore, but it’s refilling, so you’ll have to stay in bed to stop the labor. That way the baby can develop more.” The doctor squeezed her hand comfortingly. “And I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you.”

  Sara brought in a big bowl of soup, which Renata ate gratefully. Then she slipped into a deep sleep.

  The next day Renata stayed in bed, only taking bathroom breaks. She was surprised that she didn’t feel antsy. Ten more days passed, and Renata swelled even larger. On the morning of the eleventh day ,she felt a real contraction. Then there was a gush like the gush on the sofa, but much more fluid came out.

  The doctor arrived with an assistant. Under Miguel’s guidance, Renata had chosen to have the baby at home, in the Governor’s mansion. The canopy bed was comfortable. She was grateful she didn’t have to move because she was in so much pain. The doctor gave her a sedative, which made her tongue so thick that she couldn’t talk or think clearly.

  “Okay, here’s your baby.” Renata snuggled the infant briefly, and then the exhaustion overtook her.

  The assistant lifted the swaddled baby from her grasp while Renata slept and handed her to Miguel. “She’s early; not even seven months.”

  Miguel was not surprised to be holding a girl instead of a boy; he’d known along, but had planned to hide the sex of the child. He knew that Renata’s DNA had been stolen before because she was female and somehow unique. Perhaps fake documents could help to protect the infant girl from whoever was after Renata. But at the moment, other dangers concerned him. The baby was small; too small. And she hadn’t made a sound. Would she live? Was she alive even now? Miguel put his finger under her nostril and felt a tiny puff. He sighed in relief.

  “We need to take her to an incubator right away.” The nurse took the baby from Miguel, while the doctor turned Renata onto her side and covered her with an extra blanket. She left more sedatives on the night table.

  The next day, Renata woke up in the afternoon. What had happened? Her stomach was loose like a bag. And the shades were closed. She smelled the irony scent of the maxi pad between her legs. “Ugh.” She pushed herself to a sitting position and propped a pillow behind her back. There was a light tap on the door, and then it opened.

  “Renata?” Miguel spoke softly.

  “I’m awake.”

  Miguel sat in a chair next to the bed. “You okay?” he asked.

  Before Renata could answer, Sara came in with two steaming plates filled with chicken, rice, and greens. Renata was famished and quickly cleaned her plate.

  “Where’s my son?” she asked Miguel. She had agreed to put the baby up for adoption, but Renata had hoped to have him for a few days first. She wondered which father he resembled.

  Miguel hesitated. Renata was clearly still groggy, and hadn’t taken in the baby’s gender right after the birth. “He’s… he’s in the hospital. But I have a family, the family for him like we talked about.

  “Is he okay? Healthy?”

  “Yes, but he has to stay in the hospital for a while. He was premature.” Miguel felt guilty referring to the baby as a boy. But the strange letters he had received spooked him. The first one had read, I’m coming for your baby girl. That was right after the doctor took Renata’s first ultrasound. Because of the letter, Miguel had told the doctor to have a fake birth certificate made and officially recorded. He’d spun a story about Renata wanting a boy so badly he was afraid she’d become depressed if she knew she were carrying a girl. The doctor had heard of such cases before, and agreed with Miguel that there was no need to distress Renata while she was carrying, and that once she had a chance to bond with her baby, the gender wouldn’t make any difference. The next letter was similar. It was a typed and very short. I will find her was the message. That one had come only that morning.

  Miguel had saved both letters and given them to his friend Abramo, who was the head of police. But nothing could be told from the generic postmark; the stationery and envelope were of a common sort. Abramo had sent the letters off to a lab, but warned Miguel that it was unlikely any identifying marks would be found.

  Renata had told Miguel her story about the special proteins, and Miguel was very worried. He figured someone was after Renata’s baby, and he planned on doing everything he could to protect both of them. In addition, she hadn’t said who the father was, and Miguel worried that the baby might be his. She did look a little like him; then again, she looked like someone else too. But he had a plan for the little one. For now, she was in an incubator in a private clinic with a guard on duty.

  “He’s going to be okay, so please rest yourself. He’s premature, but the doctors are sure he’ll be fine.

  “How long will he have to stay in the incubator?”

  “One month, perhaps, or maybe two. But he’s happy. I saw him yawn and smile. He’s beautiful, and he looks just like you.” Miguel had a picture of the infant on the phone, but she looked so tiny and skinny he didn’t want to show Renata, at least not now, even though she was wrapped in a blue blanket and could have been of any gender.

  “His new parents have gone to meet him, and they’re going to visit everyday until he gets out.” It was very hard to lie to Renata, but Miguel needed to protect the child.

  “Did they name him?”

  Miguel paused, not knowing what to say. “They’re waiting until he goes home with them.” Renata didn’t ask any more questions. To Miguel, right now she looked like their mama right before she died.

  Renata leaned back, falling deep into the pillows. “I need to be alone.”

  Alone? That worried Miguel, but maybe she was just tired. “Call me if you need anything.”

  That evening Renata’s milk came in, and her breasts hurt so badly she cried. They were tender to the touch, and she couldn’t lie on them because they were so engorged. Her nipples had grown into mocha saucers that stayed erect all the time.

  When Miguel came to check on her, she was wearing only a thin tank top. His eyes wandered down her body. “Wow,” he said. “Do they hurt?”

  Instead of answering, Renata took his hand and put it under her nightgown around her nipple. Then she tightened his fingers and helped him squeeze out her milk. The white liquid dribbled out of her nipple, soaking her shirt. Her other breast contracted on its own. Then it squirted out a stream of fresh milk. It was obvious from the bulge in Miguel’s pants that he was excited. But Renata knew he would never initiate sex without her permission.

  “Want to try some?” Renata asked. “They hurt from being so full.” Gently Miguel removed her nightie and massaged her nipples, which got even harder. Renata was irrationally wet between her legs. “Ahhh…that feels good,” she crooned. She put her hands on the back of his head and drew his mouth onto her breast. He licked her gently. “Harder, suck harder.” Miguel’s lips w
rapped around one nipple and he caressed the other one at the same time. Milk flowed out and Miguel was swallowing. Renata’s other breast was letting down, which was a big relief.

  “This one,” she demanded, and pulled his head across her chest. He switched sides and drank deep, releasing the pressure. Now his other hand wandered under the covers and between her legs.

  “Is this okay?” he asked. She moved his hand up toward her clit and away from the birthing canal. Then she lay back and let him do all the work. She did just have a baby, she reasoned. In a minute, she came with a vengeance. She gushed, overflowing and throbbing.

  Miguel pulled away from Renata, grinning wide. “You are so beautiful,” he said. He held her tight, before tucking her under the blanket.

  “Sweet dreams, my love,” he whispered. Renata saw that he was hard, but she was too wiped out to help.

  Over the next few days, Renata recovered. Her abdomen cramped as her uterus shrank. It was like she had just come from a battle; a battle that she hadn’t won. Sitting in the garden helped. When she walked barefoot, the grass was soft under her feet, and the overgrown willows comforted her. After making sure she was alone, she talked out loud. And cried, until she couldn’t cry anymore. She wanted to see her son desperately, but also knew that she would want him back. Maybe one day she would be a mother, but not today, she told herself. She forced herself to remember her real life and her future, the one in San Francisco. She missed Kamber and her apartment, and Nima too.

  Renata stayed on the estate a few more days. “I need to go home soon,” she told Miguel. Her milk had dried up, and she could fit back into her jeans.

  “Stay, lover, stay.” He frowned, and his eyes flickered away. Maybe he had hoped Renata would move into the mansion with him, but that wasn’t her plan. She noticed Miguel had changed somehow. He looked away nervously whenever she asked about the baby, so she stopped asking. Perhaps he was judging her for her decision to give up the child? The less she knew the better, and her son’s new family didn’t need her around making things complicated.

  From the airplane window, São Paolo looked like a blanket of sparkling lights. Renata imagined her son somewhere down there, someplace he would be loved and have a bright future, like Miguel. Her trip to Brazil already felt like a dream, and she’d been gone only three weeks.

  17

  Renata’s Office

  Renata mounted the stairs up to her apartment with glee; she couldn’t wait to see Kamber. As she turned the key in the lock she heard a growl and then a bark. She opened the door to a very happy dog. Without speaking, Renata fell to her knees and hugged the big animal, burying her face in fur.

  “Welcome home!” Nima was laughing and came in for a hug. She threw her arms around her friend and the friends twirled around. Nima had on a miniskirt and a tight t-shirt; a sexy schoolgirl outfit.

  “You look cute, girlfriend.” Renata winked as she dragged her suitcase into the bedroom, and yawned. The bed was made, and the room smelled like it had just been cleaned.

  “I’ll just grab this,” said Nima, throwing a duffle bag over her shoulder. “I know you must be tired. Dinner next week?”

  “Yes, of course.” Renata smiled and yawned again. She was exhausted and jetlagged but glad she had a whole night to sleep it off. Then she would be okay to get back to the office tomorrow. She would come up with some story for Gayle Anderson about what she had been doing in Brazil; or maybe she would even say she’d taken some personal time off. Or would that make Gayle ask more questions?

  Renata stepped into her office the next morning and knew right away that someone had been there. And not just the cleaners. Her pens, pencils, and paper clips were askew. Even her file drawers had been rifled through. The long black hair she had carefully placed over them for security was gone. It probably dropped on the carpet and got vacuumed up. She supposed she could have locked her door, but that would have seemed suspicious. None of the employees at Agri-Gen locked their individual doors, except probably Erik and now Gayle. Renata didn’t have any confidential information, and everything in the office was straight-up business.

  Who would search her office, then, and why? She paced the room like a lion, contemplating the invasion. The room felt secure and safe. Could it have been innocent? Maybe Gayle needed had a file from her drawer. But wasn’t it unacceptable to sort though someone’s office, even if they were your employee? Then again, she had been away for three weeks. Maybe Katrina had been sent to look for something; she would ask when she saw her.

  But Renata couldn’t do anything about it right now, and didn’t want to indulge in paranoia. That would be counterproductive. In the meantime, she realigned her things back into position.

  18

  Competition

  Gayle cracked her office door and awaited Renata’s return. She had searched her office while she was away, not really knowing what she was looking for. It was a big setback that Renata had had a boy baby. Not only that, but he was premature, said the hospital report. Gayle knew that Renata had left the baby in Brazil for adoption. He would be easy to track and sample if Dr. Bayer thought it was worth pursuing. But his research had showed that male DNA couldn’t host the sildenafil-V that they needed. The clinic had promised they had spun out the embryos and got rid of the males. That was a sloppy mistake; next time she would definitely use a different clinic. But Gayle doubted Renata would tolerate another unplanned pregnancy.

  Gayle perused the reports that Renata had sent to Fitzer Pharmaceuticals. The yohimbe farm project had done well. The pure seed and trunks from Cameroon that were planted in Guatemala were flourishing, and the local employees were being managed well. The reports documented a lifestyle boost in the neighboring villages. As well, Agri-Gen was making a lot of profit on the project and could potentially build farms elsewhere to resell. Gayle considered assigning that job to Renata now that she was back. Perhaps she could be good for more than just her genetic material.

  Gayle took a close look at the yohimbe production numbers. Agri-Gen had successfully modified the female yohimbe tree to produce bark three times more concentrated than the original ones from Africa. Because of crowd planting and the higher concentration of sildenafil-V, each acre would produce twenty-four times the amount of extractable product. It was more efficient and reliable than the wild harvesting in Cameroon. So far, so good.

  The downside of the cultivated yohimbe trees was that they were terminators, much like many of the GMO crops designed by Agri- Gen. Since the terminators could only live one generation, they had to be replanted frequently. But because yohimbe was a tree that could live up to 50 years, maybe it didn’t matter much.

  Dr. Bayer’s latest test showed that Renata’s proteins perfectly hosted the sildenafil-V, while increasing its potency. With Renata’s DNA, the yohimbe farm would be unneeded. This was the news that Gayle had been waiting to tell Black Lotus. As soon as she could supply reproducible host DNA, she would be rich. The problem was that Dr. Bayer was having trouble reproducing them, and Renata was still the only source. Dr. Bayer had been the one to suggest the idea of a surrogate mother.

  Katrina please come to my office, Gayle texted. The girl had been skipping work, and Gayle wanted to see if she was showing yet. In a few more weeks, they could test the amniotic fluid to see if the fetus would have the special DNA like Renata.

  Katrina padded into Gayle’s office. “How’s everything going with the pregnancy?” asked Gayle with false cheer. Katrina didn’t have the beautiful pregnant bloom. She looked frumpy, and her face was covered with acne.

  “Everything’s great, Ms. Anderson,” said Katrina. She didn’t tell Gayle about the nausea or the spotting. She was still pregnant, and that was all that mattered. She needed to make it to the next payment, at least, and that was three weeks away.

  “Good, I’m glad. In two weeks we can test and see how things are going.” Gayle didn’t tell Katrina that if the test was negative for the sildenafil- V host proteins, they would stop p
ayments and arrange for an abortion. Katrina was easy enough to handle, and Gayle would cross that bridge if and when she came to it. “Now that Renata is home, I want you to resume the coffee powder program for her.”

  “Of course. Will there be anything else?” Katrina asked in a monotone.

  “No, just keep me informed. Are you feeling well?”

  “Perfectly.” Katrina forced a smile.

  “Glad to hear it. See you soon.”

  Gayle’s computer chimed in emails. On top was one from Black Lotus Pharmaceuticals. She clicked it open.

  “Mrs. Gayle Anderson, we are ready to start production of the sildenafil-V. The samples we received worked perfectly. Our lab is waiting. When will you have more source material? It has come to our attention that another company is also pursuing the female sildenafil product. We have started the patenting procedure but can’t file until we have the exact formula. Our researchers are looking into who might be a source for the competitor. Is it possible they are from the United States?”

  Gayle’s fingers tapped the air above her keyboard anxiously. She had not anticipated this problem. Someone else was after her market? Were they involved with the farm project? Could it be someone she knew? Or was it a random scientist somewhere else in the world? How could she find out?

  19

  Lost

  Renata returned to her routine like she had never been pregnant. She didn’t consider herself a mother, even though she had given birth. She told herself she couldn’t miss a baby she never met, yet she cried often over her son. Miguel had not sent her any photos because she hadn’t asked. He did say the child was out of intensive care and home with his new family, and that the father was a doctor and the mother a bookkeeper. He said they were kind and educated, and that they were unable to have a child of their own, due to the wife having had a serious car accident as a girl. He said they’d named him Ernesto Theodore.