Tears in a Bottle

by Sylvia Bambola

  “Sit down, Maggie, and take a load off,” Kirt said. “Give me a chance to roll this around in my mind and figure out how best to pressure the Health Department into doing some spontaneous inspections.”

  “Then you’ll help?”

  “Cut it out, Maggie. You knew I would.”

  “I had hoped…well, okay, I knew. But thank you, Kirt, and God bless you. And that love word—it was agape.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.”

  Becky watched her mother pile dirty dinner dishes into the sink. She pulled a rumpled paper from her jeans and took a deep breath. “Could you sign this?”

  Her mother wiped the counter, then pulled a plastic drainage rack from beneath the sink.

  “Mom!” Becky shoved the rumpled paper and a blue pen into her mother’s hands.

  “What’s this?”

  “Permission for a field trip.”

  “‘Substance Abuse, Healthy Relationships, Communications, Stress Management.’ Sounds like stuff you’ve already had in health class.”

  “Yeah…” Becky watched her mother frown.

  “‘The Responsible Choices—knowing when to have sex. Interactive workshops between boys and girls.’”

  “It’s supposed to be really good. My health teacher raved about it.” She watched her mother turn the paper over.

  “Why doesn’t it give more information? How am I supposed to know what this is all about?”

  “The principal got on the loudspeaker this morning to remind everyone about the seminar. He thinks it’s great.”

  “I don’t know…one of the neighbors was telling me about these Planned Parenthood sex seminars and—”

  “Who? Not that religious weirdo? Mom! You know what Daddy says about her.”

  Nancy shrugged. “Okay, let me ask your father and see what he thinks.”

  Becky let out an exasperated sigh. “Do you have to?” She followed her mother into the living room.

  Her father was slumped to one side, reading the evening paper. He looked so worn, so tired. She tried to grab her mother’s arm and stop her from disturbing him, but it was too late.

  “You want something, Nance?”

  Becky backed into the kitchen and leaned against the door frame.

  “You look tired. You really need a vacation. It’s been so long, Jim.”

  “Can’t do it. The shop’s too busy.” The newspaper crinkled as he turned the page.

  “So why is it that Nick always manages a vacation every year? He and Cynthia just got back from a week in Jamaica.”

  “You don’t understand the business. There are reasons.”

  “Equal partners should get equal benefits. But all you get is to work harder.”

  “Don’t start, Nance.”

  “I worry about you, Jim. I’m not trying to nag. You need a break, a rest.”

  From where she stood, Becky could see her father’s face. A look of love flickered briefly through the cloud of fatigue, then all was exhaustion again. “Thank you, but don’t worry about me, honey,” her father said.

  “Can’t we even discuss it?”

  He stretched the Gazette across his upper body. “Nothing to discuss. When the time’s right I’ll take you on a nice long vacation. But now’s not the time.”

  Her mother turned and walked toward the kitchen. There was a frown on her face. Then she stopped and looked at the paper in her hand. For a moment Becky thought her mother was going to backtrack. Instead, she gave Becky a weak smile, walked to the kitchen table, and signed it.

  The large glass aquarium bubbled noiselessly against the left wall of Thor’s office, filling him with serenity. He watched his pair of Clown Triggerfish swim in and out of the ceramic sunken ship. Clowns didn’t breed in captivity, but that hadn’t discouraged Thor. He was sure the recent artificial insemination of the female would produce results.

  In addition, Thor had hired a specialist to come twice a week to check water temperature and pH and to clean the tank when necessary. The specialist also brought the Clowns live fish for food and stocked up the freezer compartment of the small office refrigerator with frozen clams and shrimp.

  Thor thought of Hugh Brockston. What would a man like Hugh think of an heir who squandered so much money on pet fish? Would he be proud? Thor laughed. Who else did his great-great-great-great-grandfather Hugh have to be proud of? All the other Brockstons had killed themselves off with excess. And even he didn’t have the name, only the bloodline.

  He thought about his successes: the only Brockston who had made anything of himself in six generations—thanks to his mother. Poor Mother. Not exactly the line of medicine she had envisioned for him. But she was the one who had pulled him from his dream of being a businessman into the world of medicine. She said it would provide a good living. She had been right about that. It had provided a very good living. Taking inflation into account, Thor was sure he had made as big a fortune as his Grandpa Hugh. The trick was keeping it. The trick was not losing everything to Louie.

  Yes, strange how fate had corrected his course and put him back on track. Proved he was right all along, that he was meant to be a businessman. His six facilities were pulling in more money than a colleague’s string of eight. That’s because he knew how to maximize. Put the money in the little extras that paid off big in the end—waiting rooms with piped-in music, pretty pastel walls, large framed watercolor pictures, artificial plants. It made his facilities a cut above so he could charge cut-above prices: $400 for a first trimester abortion instead of $350.

  He also had two technicians who knew how to wrap and freeze placentas for shipment. His cosmetic accounts paid well for the placentas, and used them in collagen preparations. But the real money was in fetal tissue harvesting. And so was the future. Everyone was doing research, and researchers needed to be supplied. Before his eyes, Thor had seen the worthless by-products of his business turn into gold.

  He didn’t do abortions anymore. He didn’t have to.

  Thor glanced at his Rolex and smiled, then headed back toward his desk. Carl Langley would be calling any minute to finalize the biggest contract that had ever come his way. That’s where his mother had missed it. “The future lies in medicine. People are always going to get sick,” she had said. No, the future lies in procreation. People are always going to procreate. That’s what made the world go round. So why shouldn’t he cash in on it and do a little good besides?

  He was still smiling when the phone rang. He picked it up and was greeted by a gruff voice.

  “Hello, Thor, I have good news.” Excitement permeated Carl Langley’s voice. “Our client has raised the price 10 percent across the board. So you win on that one. But they won’t budge on the other issue. They insist on fresh only, collection no more than ten minutes after abortion. Seems prudent for you to instruct your doctors to encourage girls to go to fuller term, then do a D&X, a partial birth, for better specimens. Maybe let them know there was going to be a benefit, a good, with the research and all. More money for you in the D&X anyway. Better all around. But hey, I don’t need to tell you your business.” The president and owner of Second Chance Foundation paused and cleared his throat. “Only thing is, if you can’t deliver the quantities required, I’ll have to go elsewhere. You need to understand that. And once I pull a contract, it may be a long time before another one like it comes around again.”

  “I hear you, Carl. No need to threaten.”

  “I wasn’t threatening, just stating a fact. I believe in being honest and aboveboard. You know, in today’s business there’s not much integrity left.”

  “I know that, Carl. And I appreciate your candor.”

  “I figure with your six clinics you can handle this. And it’s a big one, Thor. Really big. And there’s a sweetener at the end of it. A bonus if you meet demand with good specimens.”

  “I love a challenge. You might as well write that check now and put it aside.”

  Carl laughed. “A man after my own heart. Course
it might be prudent to share some of that bonus with a few friends at the capital, just to keep the right attitudes alive. We don’t want any of them getting rambunctious about banning partial-birth abortions. But hey, I don’t need to tell you your business.”

  “No Carl, I’m on top of things.”

  “Oh, did I mention, I’m sending you a few technicians. They’ll be collecting the samples. You fax them a printout the night before of all the abortions you plan on doing the next day, give them the age of the fetus, planned procedure, the usual info packet, and they’ll decide what clinics will best satisfy their purchase orders.”

  “Is that necessary, using your techs? I have some good ones, ones I trained myself and—”

  “No, gotta be this way, so you can bill me for site space. Gotta keep it on the up-and-up.”

  “No way to get around it?”

  “None.”

  “Then I guess my people will be working with yours.”

  “Right. And that’s about it…oh…I heard you were having trouble with a bunch of picketers at your Brockston clinic. Causing you to lose business, I understand…or is that just a rumor?”

  Thor forced a laugh. “An exaggeration, Carl. Just an exaggeration. A few right-wingers spreading their intolerance. Nothing to worry about.”

  “I hear you. But just remember if business drops and you can’t—”

  “I said it’s nothing to worry about.” There was an edge in Thor’s voice.

  “Well, if you say so. I guess that about covers it…oh, yeah…just one more thing. If an order comes in that requires a special procedure to insure that the specimen remains intact, would you…that is…would your staff be receptive to changing their procedure to one more favorable for collection? We would, of course, tell you beforehand which procedure we’d like changed, depending upon age and size of the specimen.”

  “My staff will be at your disposal. I’ll instruct them to check with your technicians each morning.”

  “Fine. Now I’m sure I’ve covered everything, unless, of course, you have any questions or anything to add.”

  “Only that I think we’ll work well together.”

  “Then we have a deal?”

  “We have a deal.”

  Thor had hung up with Carl and was just about to leave his office suite when the phone rang again. His secretary answered it, then waved her arm for him to stop.

  “You’ll want to take this one,” she said, cupping the receiver in her hand. “It’s Mr. Louie—”

  Thor nodded and backtracked to his office, then closed the door.

  “Hello, Louie.” Thor forced his voice to sound cheerful.

  “You sound well…jubilant even. Perhaps after our conversation your spirits will be elevated to an even higher stratosphere. I believe it’s a day for celebration, Thor, but you tell me.”

  Thor shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Are you going to turn this into a novel? I’m on my way out.”

  “That’s the trouble with you college types. You’ve never learned how to savor the moment. You’re too busy rushing to who knows where. Oftentimes, you make me grateful that I’m a self-made man. But I suspect I’ve told you this before.”

  “Yes, Louie, many times.”

  “Well, out of respect for you and your time, I’ll come to the point. I have a proposition of some weight, involving a company that I and others have invested heavily in.”

  “What others?”

  “Now Thor, you know I don’t discuss my business partners with anyone. They’re of the ilk that—how shall I say it?—that prefer anonymity. We’ve been friends long enough for you to understand that.”

  “Yes, but as a businessman, you should respect my interest and concern.”

  “Concern?” Thor heard soft laughter. “There’s no need for such trepidation. Do you think I’d lead you down an erroneous path? Believe me, Thor, your success is in the forefront of my mind. How else will I ever collect all that money you owe me?”

  Thor forced his laughter to join with Louie’s. “Let’s hear what you’ve got, and if it sounds good, maybe we can work a deal.”

  “A company called Galaxy Cosmetics Inc. is developing an entirely new product line called Dorianna Gray…by the way, how do you like the name?”

  “Ah…fine…sounds fine.”

  “The name was my suggestion. Rather clever if you think about it. You know, Dorian Gray, the ageless man; Dorianna Gray, the ageless woman.”

  “Right. Good choice.” Thor rolled his eyes.

  “There’s a fortune to be made in cosmetics. Broads are always trying to make themselves more beautiful, always looking for that fountain of youth. And we’re going to be Ponce de Leon to them. Only this time, we’ll not go sailing off to some obscure island looking for that fountain. We’re going to manufacture it. I’m telling you, Thor, this is a moneymaker. Broads will pay anything to make their wrinkles vanish. And we’re talking top of the line, the crème de la crème. We’re talking five hundred dollars and up for a four-ounce jar.”

  Thor grunted. He wondered if women paying five hundred dollars for a jar of collagen cream would appreciate being called “broads.”

  “This line will be cutting edge, you understand. A great volume of money is being invested, money from big players.”

  Thor walked around his desk and sat down. “How do I fit into all this?”

  “As I previous stated, this is cutting edge. The geniuses in the lab coats will be doing a preponderance of research. This is not business as usual, Thor. A whole new approach will be taken. What I need from you, what you will do, is supply the specimens of various…body parts. I have already pledged your cooperation and I have given my assurances that you can handle the great volume that will be needed for success.”

  Thor felt his face flush with anger. “I’ve just completed a deal with a wholesaler for much of my stuff. I’ve also got several other smaller accounts. I’ll do what I can, Louie, but I can’t promise I’ll be able to meet demand. I wish you had spoken to me before—”

  “You have not grasped the true picture, Thor,” Louie said, his voice cold as a glacier. “As a part-owner of sorts in your clinics, I have made the commitment for you. Dorianna Gray will be your top priority. The leftovers can go to your other accounts. I don’t believe I can state it any more succinctly.”

  How had he gotten into this mess? How had he ever allowed someone like Louie to gain this much control over him?

  “Well, Thor, what’s your answer? Can you…will you do it?”

  Again, Thor forced a laugh. “Was there ever any doubt? Of course, Louie. Anything Dorianna Gray needs, I’ll provide.”

  “You will make it your number one account, your number one priority?”

  “Of course.”

  “Marvelous.”

  Thor could almost hear Louie smile, could almost see those barracudalike teeth.

  “And naturally, you’ll be well paid. Your specimens will command top dollar, that I can guarantee you without hesitation. I dare say that in no time you’ll be able to clear up all those IOUs. And if you perform well, which I have no doubt you will, then I’ll even consider slicing off something extra from your balance due. Call it a bonus.”

  Thor wiped his free hand on his pants and closed his eyes.

  “I dare say you could use a bonus.”

  “Yes, thank you, Louie.”

  Dr. Thor Emerson was seated behind his desk, still brooding over the conversation with Louie, when his wife pushed open the office door. Her face was ashen and Thor noticed her lip tremble slightly.

  He forced a smile to hide his intense irritation at being disturbed. “Teresa, what are you doing here? I thought you were out with the girls or something.”

  “I need to talk to you.” Teresa remained rigid in the doorway and ignored his gesture to sit down. “I’ll be as brief as possible.”

  “Couldn’t this wait until I got home?”

  “No. I won’t be there when you get home
.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to see Eric again? Even for you this is—”

  “No.”

  “Then, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m on my way to see a lawyer, Thor. It’s settled. I’ve decided. I just didn’t want to do it over the phone. After fourteen years…well, for the sake of the fourteen years.”

  Thor saw that the quiver in her lip had intensified. Slowly, he pushed himself away from the desk. “We’ve gone through this before. This is not the time, Teresa. You’ll not have one of your tantrums in my office.”

  To Thor’s surprise, Teresa broke a smile even though she was still visibly upset. “Fine. I’ve told you to your face. I’ve done what I set out to do.” She turned to leave.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve told you, or tried to tell you, that I’m leaving you.”

  Thor rose from his chair and quickly went to where Teresa stood, pulled her away from the door frame, then closed the heavy maple door. Squeezing her arm a little too tightly, he led her to the chair in front of his desk and practically shoved her in it. He studied her face for the first sign of tears. There weren’t any.

  “If this is about the other night, if this is about Julie, I’ve told you a hundred times she’s just a business colleague, nothing more. I can’t help what she tells you or how she feels about me. But she’s nothing to me. Nothing. When will you get that through your—”

  “It’s not about her, it’s not about any of them. It’s about you and me. It’s about love and trust and respect and—”

  “I’m not in the mood to listen to you whine—”

  “—and dignity. It’s all lost. We’ve lost it. I want a life, a real life. I’ve tried to hang on. But I can’t anymore. I won’t anymore.”

  “Dignity? You want to talk dignity. What about that house I bought you, the one you’ve filled with expensive antiques? What about the summer place at the shore? What about being a doctor’s wife? You—”

  “A doctor’s wife? You’re not a doctor, you’re an abortionist. You think I’m proud of that? You think anyone really likes an abortionist? Surely you don’t believe that all those politicians are your friends? Oh, they may smile when you give them those fat contributions, but afterward, Thor, afterward they go and wash their hands. And about the house…I don’t give a hoot about the house…or the antiques. I only care…about you. But it’s not enough anymore. Not anymore. I’ve stayed this long because I saw how bad it was for you, how angry your work made you. I thought I could help but—”