This book is a work of fiction. With the exception of recognized historical figures, the characters in this novel are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
TEARS IN A BOTTLE
© 2001 by Sylvia Bambola
published by Multnomah Books
Scripture quotations are from:
The Holy Bible, New International Version © 1973, 1984 by
International Bible Society, used by permission of Zondervan
Publishing House
Holy Bible, New Living Translation (NLT) © 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by WaterBrook Multnomah,
an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group,
a division of Random House Inc., New York.
MULTNOMAH and its mountain colophon are registered trademarks of Random House Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission.
For information:
Multnomah Publishers, Inc.•Post Office Box 1720•Sisters, Oregon 97759
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bambola, Sylvia.
Tears in a bottle : a novel / by Sylvia Bambola.
p. cm.
eISBN: 978-0-307-76941-1
1. Abortion services—Fiction. 2. Pro-life movement—Fiction. 3. Abortion—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3552.A47326 T4 2001 813′.6—dc21 2001002176
v3.1
To every precious soul who weeps in secret.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Vincent, my husband and best friend for over thirty-four years. Thank you for your patience, for being my sounding board throughout this trying year of discovery and sadness as I digested material so shocking it often gave me nightmares. And thank you for all those wonderful meals you cooked so I could meet my deadline. I praise God for you and rejoice that even after this life we will continue to be together for all eternity.
To Lorraine Gariboldi, president of the Life Center of Long Island. When I hear your sweet voice and the way you speak about ladies damaged by abortion, I can envision Jesus and His tender love for the hurting. Thank you for taking the time to share the inner workings of your center and for helping me to understand how devastating abortion is. Thank you for patiently fielding my numerous phone calls and for your willingness to answer all my questions, no matter how busy you were. And thank you for the wealth of information you provided through your pamphlets and books.
A big thank-you to Lawrence and Joanna Cervellino, who head up the Long Island Coalition for Life, for going out of their way to get me the information I needed on Planned Parenthood and for their willingness to spend as much time as it took so that I could understand some of what was going on. Your vast knowledge and kindness humble me.
Andrew Daub, director of Youth Outreach for American Life League (ALL), was incredibly generous with the volume of material he sent me and his willingness to go the extra mile. Thank you, Andrew.
Mark Crutcher of Life Dynamics Incorporated has authored the well-documented book Lime Five. That plus his monthly Life Talk video magazine was without doubt one of the most valuable resources I had. Life Talk kept me current with all that is happening in the abortion industry as well as kept me focused during those times when I just didn’t want to write about abortion anymore. It was Mark Crutcher and Life Dynamics that uncovered and helped expose the selling-of-baby-parts scandal. I send my heartfelt thanks and greetings and say, “Keep up the good work. You’re making a difference.”
Thank you to Domenick Roberti, PetLand manager in Islandia, who gave me a crash course on tropical fish. And grateful thanks to the kind and helpful Suffolk County police officer of the Fourth Precinct, who wished to be kept anonymous, but who provided insight into the workings of a police station.
And finally, I want to thank my kind and gentle editor, Rod Morris, as well as the many other wonderful people who make up the Multnomah family and who have made this book possible.
While the story and characters in this novel are fictitious, the facts concerning abortion and abortion clinics are very real. The abortion industry in America today is not an effectively regulated industry and is protected on almost every front. A prime example of this is the government agency Centers for Disease Control (CDC). Heading the Abortion Surveillance Branch of the CDC at different times were Dr. Willard Cates and Dr. David Grimes. Both have been practicing abortionists. The Abortion Surveillance Branch has since been abolished, but the new head of the CDC’s abortion statistics is Lisa Koonin, who was on the Editorial Advisory Committee of a magazine published by the Alan Guttmacher Institute—the research arm of Planned Parenthood—and has been a presenter at the National Abortion Federation conference. Her department’s 1996 study on the safety of abortion was based on information supplied by the abortion industry itself, then was massaged and passed along as a government statistic. This type of practice has permeated our nation for years and amounts to a performance akin to the proverbial fox watching over the chicken coop. With such practices, is it any wonder that the American people are being deceived and, generally speaking, have a false picture of what abortion is and what the industry is all about?
My prayer is that we will come to know the truth and that the truth will set us free.
You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.
PSALM 56:8, NLT
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Author’s Note
For Information and Support
1
THOR EMERSON SAT BEHIND the oversized mahogany desk, fingering his Mont Blanc. He was all alone. Eleanor had gone home hours ago, so there would be no interruptions. The only noise in the office was a barely discernible hum coming from his fifty-five-gallon fish tank. But that was not an intrusion. It was more of a pacifier, though it didn’t comfort today.
He finally uncapped his pen and scribbled several numbers on a three-by-five card. Then he hurriedly crossed them out. Just what was this going to cost him? No use in guessing. He’d find out soon enough. He finally picked up the phone and dialed. By the third ring he was cursing. Isn’t this guy ever home? He pictured Newly boozing with one of the young girls from the clinic. At least when he played, Thor did it with women old enough to know what they were getting themselves into. He just had to get rid of this guy.
It surprised Thor when a hello finally slurred across the other end of the line. For a moment, Thor was at a loss for words.
“Hello?” came the voice again, more insistently this time, but the slur was unmistakable.
“Dr. Newly, glad I caught you at home.”
Sardonic laughter rippled over the wire. “My loss, your gain.”
“What?”
“I wouldn’t have been here if I’d gotten lucky. After you scrape ’em and tape ’em, you’d think they’d trust you. But the silly child wouldn’t buy the line. I just could
n’t convince her that I loved her for her mind.”
“A girl from the clinic?”
“Where else can you find such easy pickings? I mean, they don’t have any virtue to defend, now do they?”
“That’s how doctors lose licenses.” Thor pulled the phone away from his ear and waited until the raucous laughter on the other end subsided. “Look, what you do on your off hours is your business, but when your actions begin to affect the clinic, then it becomes mine.”
“Has Flo been tattling again?”
“She’s conscientious. She cares about the girls and she’s concerned about how you handle them and about some of your slipshod practices.” Again Thor had to pull the phone away as Newly began singing at the top of his lungs.
“Good night ladies, good night gentlemen, good night everyone—”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve had to call you on this matter. I’ve got two pending litigations thanks to you. I can’t—”
“…we’re sorry to see you go!”
“I can’t afford you anymore, so I’ve come up with a retirement fund, so to speak. Say fifty thousand to carry you until you find something else.”
Newly laughed, but not so loudly this time. “There’s nothing else. I’ve been drummed out of four states. Can’t go back there.”
“Seventy-five thousand.”
“I didn’t know you thought so highly of me. Thanks, but no thanks. I like it at Brockston.”
“One hundred thousand, and that’s my last offer.”
“You don’t get it. I have no place else to go.”
“No, you don’t get it—you’re fired, Newly. So if I were you, I’d take the money and run.”
Newly started laughing, almost howling over the phone. “This is rich, just beautiful. If you insist, I’d be happy to take it, but I’m not leaving.”
“You have no choice.”
“I do if I have fire insurance.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Fire insurance—the thing that keeps you from getting fired. Like a list of State Health Department violations and a list of companies that purchase all sorts of interesting body parts from you. Think of what the press could do with that.”
“I don’t like being threatened.”
“So we’re even. I don’t like being fired.”
“Maybe if you behaved more like a doctor and less like a derelict—”
“Colorful, very colorful. But save it and let’s just call it a draw. You’re stuck with me and I’m stuck with you. Let’s make the best of it, agreed?”
Thor slammed the receiver down and cursed loudly. Flo had warned him not to hire Newly. She had told him about Newly’s track record. But sometimes in this business you had to take what was available. Now what?
Becky Taylor tried to fly past her father when she heard the car beep. “See you.”
“Not so fast, young lady! Where’re you going?”
“Dad, I’m late. The guys are waiting.” Becky cringed. Wrong word.
“What guys?”
“Paula, Katie, the crowd.”
Jim Taylor turned in his chair to peek out the window at Paula Manning’s red Nissan. “They aren’t guys, Becky.”
She let out an exasperated sigh, and her father turned from the window and looked at her.
“Becky Taylor, what’s that purple all over your lips!”
Becky planted her hands on her hips. She had been planting her hands on her hips like that since she was two years old. As she did, her little cotton top rode up and exposed her navel. She quickly dropped her arms.
“If you think you’re going out half dressed, think again. I’ll not have a daughter of mine prancing around the neighborhood with her…with her belly sticking out!”
The teen’s hands were back on her hips. “My belly’s not sticking out.”
“Upstairs and change. And wipe that goo off your face!”
“Mom.” The car honked again. “Mom!”
Nancy Taylor came from the kitchen drying her hands on a towel.
“Mom, what’s wrong with this outfit? Daddy’s never happy unless I look like a geek.”
Becky watched her mother’s eyes seek out her father’s. “Go change,” her mother said softly.
“Mo-om!”
“Go change!”
Becky gave her mother a hurt look, then stomped upstairs, but not too loudly. When she got to her room, she tore off her top, threw it on the floor, and ransacked her drawers. She took out the green tank she had previously borrowed from Paula and pulled it over her head, then went to the mirror.
“Hi Raggedy,” she said, pushing her doll aside to find her comb. “Boy are you lucky you don’t have parents to boss you around all the time.”
The doll slumped over and Becky readjusted it so it sat upright against the corner of the mirror. The doll was old and worn, with a tear above one eye. Still, it was the only doll she hadn’t either thrown away or given to the Children’s Hospital in town. Paula said it was because Becky was still a child at heart. Becky giggled. What would Paula think now, if she heard Becky talking to it?
She heard the car honk again and quickly combed her hair. At once, Becky’s eyes went to her mouth. They always did. She wished her lips weren’t so big, so clownlike. Sometimes she’d look at herself and think of a circus. Her mother said she was pretty, but mothers couldn’t be trusted. They always said dumb things like that, as though it was their job or something. She once heard Mary Lou Potter’s mom tell Mary Lou she had the prettiest face of all the girls in her class. Mary Lou Potter? The girl had to be at least a hundred pounds overweight. Just proved her point. Mothers lie. So why did Becky believe Skip when he told her she was pretty? Because Skip wasn’t her mom, and guys don’t lie about a girl’s looks…unless.… But that was another matter.
From the top of the stairs, Becky could see the back of her father’s chair. She thought of bolting down the steps and straight out the door, but stopped herself when she heard her mother’s voice. “She’s seventeen,” Becky heard her mother say. “You need to give her some slack.”
Becky heard the snap of her father’s Gazette. “She’s pretty like you, Nance, and pretty’s not an asset. Becky’ll find that out. Flowers attract bees and bees are only interested in gathering pollen for their own use.”
Becky backed away from the stairs and pressed herself against the wall.
“No matter how hard you try, you’re not going to be able to stop her from growing up. You have to start letting go. She’s seventeen.”
“You were only eighteen, remember?”
“We’re talking about Becky.”
“You want your daughter going out looking like a trollop?”
“She wants to fit in. All the kids dress like that.”
“Like hookers?”
Becky bit into her lip.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Jim.”
“I don’t think we should be reminding heaven, do you? An apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Nance.”
“Becky’s not me.”
“No. Becky’s going to college.”
Becky remained pressed against the wall for several minutes after the conversation ended. Only when she heard the noise of pots and pans banging in the kitchen did she slink down the stairs and out the door.
“I thought you’d never come!” Paula Manning twisted around as Becky pushed a pile of books from the leather backseat onto the floor and slipped in. Becky saw Paula’s eyebrows raise when she recognized the wrinkled green tank top. “What took so long?”
“My dad.”
“Boy, am I glad my dad’s not a pain,” Kate Lawrence said.
“Fasten your seat belts, girls!” Paula put the car in reverse and screeched out of the driveway and into the street.
“Did you have to do that?” Becky said, watching her father press against the window. “My dad’s just looking for an excuse to tell me I can’t go out with you anymore…ever since…boy were you stupid!”
Paula turned up the radio, and the loud rock music made the car vibrate. “My dad didn’t make a big thing out of it. Why should yours?”
“Could you turn that down?” Becky said, and watched Paula grudgingly comply.
“I still can’t believe you and Denny did it in the school parking lot,” Kate said. “I must admit that took guts.”
“Yeah, I think I surprised even Denny.”
“It was just plain stupid,” Becky said. “Why do you think you’re having so much trouble getting into college?”
“Because I have a 1.85 grade point average,” Paula said.
“Exactly, and when your average is so low, colleges look even harder at everything else: your club participation, your extracurricular activities—”
Both Paula and Kate laughed.
“Now with that suspension on your record, well…you really messed up.”
“So kind of you, Miss Prim-and-Proper, to share that with us,” Paula said. “Of course you don’t see me uptight. In fact, the only one uptight about this whole thing is you. Now why do you suppose that is?”
“You should just do it, Becky, and get it over with,” Kate said. “I mean, Skip’s a great guy. He’s good looking, popular, a basketball star. What more do you want? And believe me, if you don’t wise up you’re not going to keep him interested long. There are plenty of girls waiting to take your place.”
“Right. And who’s been complaining about Skip’s inattention, lately?” Paula said. “You want him to start writing those love notes again, don’t you? And walk you to your classes like he used to?”
“You have to do it sooner or later. I mean, you can’t stay a virgin forever,” Kate said.
“Why don’t you two try minding your own business?” Becky chewed her lip.
“Listen to me, girl,” Paula said, “You better make that boy happy or else.”
“You’re sickening, both of you. That’s all you ever talk about, guys and sex. Hello! There’s a big world out there. Other things to think about. Why don’t you girls grow up?”
“Grow up?” Paul turned her attention from the road to look at her friend. “Grow up? Look who’s talking. You want to be a virgin forever?”
Tears in a Bottle Page 1
