by M. G Scott
“What was his name?”
“Eric.” She paused. “Eric Sanchez. We had met at the university—The Seattle Center of Bio Research—during our graduate work. I don’t know … it just seemed so surreal.” A pause. “We met in lecture, in the third week of class. He nervously came up to me and asked if I wanted to do a group study with some of his friends.” Carla’s eyes moved up, toward the clouds drifting overhead. “He had the eyes of a cat and the smarts of anybody on this Earth, and that just drove me to him.” She looked down, at her hands. “After class, sometimes we would engage in small talk and he just captured my attention. Hard to believe.”
“Why do you think that was?” For some reason, Sabrina was captivated by this woman’s memory of her husband, regardless of the obvious fact that this would be a remarkable story for the Beacon.
Carla gazed over at Sabrina. “I was never the courting type. I just wanted to better myself academically. At least that was my goal going into grad school. It certainly wasn’t to find love. But he was so sincere and hardworking … really wanted to make a name for himself … and compassionate. That was something I hadn’t seen in a boy since, well, ever.”
She started playing with her wedding ring. It was simple in design. The platinum band held just a hint of diamonds around a larger diamond set atop a circular base. Carla continued, “And then to have it stripped away, so brutally, so suddenly. I’m not sure I’ll ever have the desire to love again.”
Sabrina couldn’t look away. She was drawn in by the story, even if love and courtship were beyond her own comprehension. “How long were you married?”
“Our ten-year was coming up this year. We always knew we were going to get married, but we also knew that our work in biochemistry was just as important. So we held off on marriage until our careers got off the ground.”
“Did you both work for the same firm out of school?”
Carla nodded. “Yes. It was a company called BioHumanity. He was recruited heavily by them. They were investing in stem cell research and needed the best and brightest to do the research. And he was certainly all of that.”
“How long were you both there?”
“I left after about three years and went to nonprofit. He stayed on. He got into a division where he excelled. The fast track as they say.”
Sabrina noticed her eyes looked a bit brighter, maybe even a little warmer. “When did you see him last?” Maybe it wasn’t the best time to ask this, but as a reporter, she had to.
Carla sighed, as if uncertain how much she wanted to tell Sabrina. “It’s a day I’ll never forget. It was a Sunday afternoon. He said he wanted to take his line down by one of the piers around the bay.”
“Line?”
“In the Oceanside area we have all kinds of bays and hidden waterways that are just right for fishing. Eric was such an avid fisherman. That was one of his favorite hobbies—just to go out when he had a little time and relax. But that day was different.”
“Why do you say it’s different?”
“I don’t know. He just didn’t seem right when he had left that afternoon. He said he was going fishing and he had brought his usual fishing tackle with him, but the look in his eyes seemed to stray elsewhere. It was if he was shouldering a lot of stress. That wasn’t Eric.”
The late afternoon sun suddenly caught them in the eyes. It was a reminder that Sabrina needed to get a picture soon, before the sun dropped below the horizon.
“You probably didn’t think much of it then, did you?”
Carla nodded. “No, I didn’t. When he didn’t come home, our conversation came back to me in a rush. That’s when I really started to think something was wrong.” Carla glanced at the statue. “I visited all of his favorite places, to see if there was any sign of him but I didn’t see a thing, not even his fishing tackle. Then I heard about the body down here and my heart just skipped. I knew it was him. I just knew.”
In a shallow tone, Sabrina replied, “I believe the coroner ruled it an accident. Coronary death.”
Carla frowned at her.
“Don’t you believe that?”
“I’m not sure what I believe. Yes, the authorities say it’s an accident but to me—and I can’t prove it by any means—I think it was the farthest thing from that.”
“You mean murder?”
A slow nod.
Sabrina swallowed hard. She was never a hundred percent sure, but maybe her intuition was right. “Maybe I can help,” Sabrina offered. Should she really go there?
“How?”
“I work in town as a reporter. Maybe I can look into it a bit more. I do have some connections.”
Carla bolted to her feet. “You’re a what?”
Sensing Carla thought she had been tricked, Sabrina hastily replied, “Look Carla, I came here just as a compassionate stranger—to listen to you.”
“You came here to find out my story and to print it.” She put her face in her hands. “God, that’s the last thing I want.”
Sabrina touched her arm. “Listen—”
The woman pulled away. “No. No! I don’t want to say anything more.”
“But—”
Carla wiggled a finger in Sabrina’s face. “Don’t you dare write anything I just told you,” she barked before storming off.
Chapter 7
As Gina sat in the small waiting area, conversational chatter was replaced by an apprehensive silence whenever a woman walked in. Everyone sitting around her seemed to eye the woman with empathy, wondering what led to the decision to come to the clinic.
And Gina was no different.
It had only been twenty-four hours since she left the hospital with the news she was pregnant. After a night of restless sleep pondering her own morals, she came to the realization that having this baby would be for all the wrong reasons: She would be angry at the world, angry at herself, and especially angry at Gregory knowing he would always be in her life.
There was no way she could carry this baby to term knowing those emotions would always be there, regardless of how selfish it was or the dilemma she felt about her beliefs.
A muffled cry to Gina’s left replaced her thoughts. She eyed the woman, covered in a bulky sweater from the day’s chill, trying to hide the tears that were streaming down her face. A sense of compassion flooded Gina as she watched the woman struggle to hold back the tears. She placed a hand gently on the woman’s knee. “Hey. It’s going to be okay.”
The woman peeked through her fingers at Gina and then wiped her eyes with the damp tissue she was holding in one hand. “I’m that loud, aren’t I?”
“Does it matter? You have every right to get emotional. It’s a huge decision for us—one that’s not right or wrong … and so stressful. I know we want the privilege, but it’s still so hard.”
A second wipe to her eyes. “I s’pose. I just thought I had a handle on my life, especially after I met my boyfriend. We were on a first date, everything was going all so well. And after a couple glasses of wine, one thing led to another. I know I should’ve reminded him about a condom, but I just got lost in the moment.”
“Hey, it happens,” Gina replied softly.
“I was going to keep it, we were going to get married … do the right thing. And then he just left me, leaving me no way to afford the baby.”
“I’m so sorry,” Gina replied as she thought about her own story. “How far along are you?”
“Almost in the third trimester.”
“Oh? Can you … still do this?”
“I was told the clinic would find a way to take care of me.” The woman stuck her hand out. “I’m Helen by the way.”
They shook hands. “Mine’s Gina.”
* * * * *
Tucked away in a small office near the back corner of the clinic, Melanie Li eyed her laptop and then tapped the mouse a few times. She browsed the names that splashed across the screen until she located her next two patients—Gina Hyde and Helen Mesona. After a click, a new screen popped w
ith all the relevant information and videos. She hovered over the link to a video posted just below Gina’s name and clicked it.
As the three minute ultrasound played on her computer, Melanie tapped the zoom controls and centered on the tiny muscle that, if born, would become the most vital organ in the body—the heart. She watched it flick back and forth as it raced to pump blood at a hundred seventy-five beats per minute. Even at this early stage, it was truly a remarkable feat of nature.
When the video ended Melanie leaned back in her chair and looked at the family photos scattered on her desk and shelves. There was her dad, fighting to keep a normal life after undergoing countless surgeries to keep him walking. There was her son: A boy born as normal as could be but quickly falling prey to autism. He was considered mild compared to others diagnosed with the same, tragic condition but the weekly sessions with the therapists—the sessions that tried to keep her outlook positive—wore on her both financially and emotionally.
What else was she supposed to do? She needed the money. Although her target patients always took a little coaxing, it generally wasn’t hard to get them to select the option that would pay her the commission, or bounty she sometimes called it.
Gina would be her next target. She clicked over to Gina’s personal information. A smirk worked its way across her face.
Teacher. Student loans outstanding.
A perfect candidate.
Melanie launched the Web browser on her computer and logged into BioHumanity—the global pharmaceutical giant that paid her commissions. Feeling confident she could get Gina to agree to the program, she spent five minutes typing in Gina’s information before uploading her ultrasound. She wasn’t quite sure why the ultrasound was required for admission into the program, but they required all the patient’s data before she could get paid.
She hit the green Submit button at the bottom of the screen and then watched as the commission dollars for Gina—it was now up to five hundred dollars for each referral—rolled into her account … pending, of course, Gina’s completion of the program. And Melanie knew, once they agreed to be in the program, the commission was virtually guaranteed.
Just then her voice of reason spoke up, which it periodically did, and wondered if she was doing the right thing. To comfort her decision, Melanie clicked a few more times. The screen showed she continued to be the highest paid sales agent in BioHumanity’s referral program. But that didn’t impress her anymore. What did impress her were the times BioHumanity’s CEO, Steven Vua, personally called to congratulate her commission achievements.
The computer chimed reminding Melanie of Gina’s appointment. She grabbed her red shoulder bag made of Spazzolato leather and slipped it into a desk drawer. It was going to be a good day: Gina would be her third referral, netting her fifteen hundred dollars in commissions.
* * * * *
An older Asian-looking woman, maybe in her early fifties, walked into the waiting area. “Ms. Hyde?” she warmly asked.
Gina stood. “Yes, that’s me.”
She stuck her hand out. “I’m Melanie, one of the counselors here. Won’t you please come with me?”
“Of course.”
As they headed into the back area of the clinic, Melanie said, “I understand you just finished the ultrasound from one of our assistants.”
“Yes, I tried to tell her I just had one yesterday which is why I’m here in the first place, but she just said it was the rules of the center.”
“I’m afraid that’s right. Before we can determine a course of path, we needed to confirm how many weeks along you are.”
The woman took her into a small, private office that was warmly decorated with pictures, plants, and volumes of books. Gina sat across from a faux oak desk as the woman casually seated herself behind a small computer screen.
Melanie eyed the paperwork Gina had filled out, and then lobbed a warm smile toward her. “I know this is your first time here,” she said in a steady, motherly voice. “We’ll make it as comfortable and relaxing for you as possible. Don’t feel like you’re the only one going through this. There are thousands of women who come through these doors every year and they all feel the same way you do.”
Gina looked away. Guilt was pouring through her as she embarked on a decision that was the result of poor judgment. Then again, what other choice did she have?
She gathered her strength and turned back toward Melanie. “That’s very kind of you to say. but there’s nobody to blame except me. It shouldn’t have happened the way it did … but it did.” She touched her belly. “There’s just no way I can go through with the pregnancy knowing I would be committed not only to the baby, but also to a father I want nothing to do with.”
Melanie smiled as if she heard the story a hundred times. “I understand. We’ll take care of everything, but we just need to make sure you’re committed to the decision. If you’re confident you are, then let’s go ahead with what’s available to you and see how you want to proceed.”
“I am,” Gina replied, “and the sooner the better.”
Melanie raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Okay, let’s move forward then.”
“What are my options?”
Melanie handed her a short pamphlet describing the next steps. “Now that you’ve had the ultrasound, we can confirm that you’re within the acceptable boundaries for an aborted pregnancy.”
“My doctor just calculated it to be fourteen weeks. Is that what you have?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Gina leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
“From the test and ultrasound, it’s closer to sixteen.”
Gina’s jaw dropped. “Sixteen weeks? There’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed my period missing that many times.”
“That’s what many women say, but sometimes there’s a bit of spotting that can be mistaken for a period and that’s probably what happened to you.”
“Impossible—”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Melanie said in a soft voice. “Since you’re within twenty, we’ll be able to manage the procedure just fine—either through a medical abortion or a surgical one.”
“A medical abortion?”
A nod. “It’s medication-based. That is, it’s a non-intrusive procedure that relies on the administration of two pills—one while you’re at the office here, and the other twenty-four hours later while you’re in the comfort and privacy of your home.”
“How will I feel… I mean afterward?”
Melanie took a peak at Gina’s files spread across her desk. “From reading your history, it sounds like you’ve never experienced a miscarriage before. Is that right?”
“It is.”
“Well, the feeling will be a lot like that. You’ll have some heavy bleeding and cramping, and it can last for several hours afterward.”
Gina gulped. Her cycles had always been fairly light so she didn’t know how she would take such pain. “And the other option?”
“It’s a surgical procedure performed here at the clinic. You’ll be with our doctors and nurses who will perform an aspiration abortion. We’ll sedate you and provide numbing medication for your cervix. From there, the doctor will insert a tube through your cervix into the uterus and then a suction machine will gently empty your uterus. It’s a very quick procedure, no more than ten minutes, and then you’ll be in the recovery room for another thirty minutes, just to make sure everything is okay before you letting you go.”
“What about the pain?”
“It’s a bit less painful than the medical abortion. Women generally report milder cramping without prolonged stomach issues.”
Gina’s heart started beating more. She didn’t like either option. One was way more intrusive than she liked and the other was going to be more painful. She bit her lip. How could she have put herself in a situation like this? She vowed never again.
Then there was the question of how she was going to pay for it. “Any chance the cost is under fifty d
ollars?”
A small smile. “I wish that were the case. It would make it so much easier for women to have the procedures they’re entitled to. Unfortunately, honey, that’s not the case.”
Gina nodded. “I didn’t think so.”
Melanie pointed to the sheet she handed to Gina. “It’s all on there. The medical is about four hundred dollars while the surgical is six hundred.”
That stung. It wasn’t a ton of money but she had already maxed out her credit cards and this was another expense she just didn’t need right now.
Melanie studied her. “Is that too much?”
“Normally, I’d say no,” Gina replied. “I’m a teacher just finishing my first year and I’m still paying off my loans. I’m already behind two payments.”
“Well,” Melanie said slowly, “we do have another option.”
Gina could feel her face brighten. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Do you mean financing?”
Melanie’s eyes settled on Sabrina. In a calm voice, she said, “Not exactly. It’s an option where we cover you.”
“What’s the catch?”
“All we ask is for your time and service in return.”
Sabrina straightened in her chair. “Do you mean I have to volunteer my time at the clinic?”
“Heavens, no.” A pause. “It’s about our affiliation. The Humanity North Center, along with about fifty other clinics across the United States, is associated with a life sciences company called BioHumanity. We aren’t owned by them but we do have a strategic partnership that allows our patients to enjoy the latest in technology and keep your costs down.”
"How low?”
“Zero.”
“Zero?”
Melanie leaned forward. “Let me explain why: BioHumanity, being a global life sciences company, is constantly doing studies and clinical trials. One of the most exciting things they’ve been working on are human organs generated from our very own cells.”
“Wow … okay. So how can I help?”
