The Surrogate

by Henry Wall Judith

  But today, she had no agenda. She stretched, luxuriating in the thought that she could simply enjoy her baby, her dog, their new home, and the gift of a beautiful day.

  Ralph was looking at her from the foot of the bed. “Good morning,” she told him and he wiggled his way to her side, pushing his head under her hand. “Let’s see, what shall we do today?” she pondered as she scratched his ears. “I want to give Billy a by-the-book bath, and we need to do some laundry. And this afternoon we can walk over to that little park and see if you can catch a Frisbee.”

  She read about bathing babies. Only sponge baths were allowed until Billy’s cord stem fell off.

  She put him on a folded towel beside the kitchen sink and talked to him while she washed his little body, and he looked up at his mommy with a somewhat puzzled but quite intelligent expression on his face. Everything about him was perfect—his little nose, his mouth, his fingers and toes. The slope of his little shoulders made her weak with love. She’d realized that having a baby was a life-changing event but hadn’t had a clue as to how complete that change would be.

  “I will be the very best mother I can be,” she promised her child and herself.

  That afternoon, except for some elderly men playing dominoes on the concrete picnic tables, they had the park to themselves. She spread a blanket under a tree, placed Billy on it, and picked up the Frisbee.

  Keeping her baby in view, she tossed the Frisbee over and over again, and Ralph would race after it and wait for it to land, then dutifully pick it up and come trotting back to Jamie. She hadn’t a clue as to how to make him understand what she wanted him to do until one of the domino players yelled at her, “Roll it to him a few times so he can learn to catch it while it’s still in motion.”

  Jamie did as the man suggested, and Ralph would chase after the rolling disk and grab it. After they had that routine down pat, she sailed the Frisbee along a horizontal plane just a few feet above the ground, and lo and behold he made a leaping jump and grabbed it. Jamie was thrilled. “Good boy,” she called and watched with pride as he trotted back with the disk in his mouth and his crooked tail wagging. She knelt and gave him a hug. “You’re the best!” she said enthusiastically.

  Then they got serious. The domino players applauded time and again as Ralph leapt high in the air, his body twisting and turning as though he had been catching Frisbees all his life. Finally Jamie grew weary of the game. She picked up Billy and walked toward the picnic tables with Ralph leaping happily at her side.

  “Thanks for the advice,” she told the man who had yelled the instructions. He wasn’t as old as the other domino players, she realized. In fact, he wasn’t old at all.

  “Glad to be of service,” the man said. His suit jacket was folded on the bench beside him, his necktie on top of it. He had rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. The other men were more casually dressed. He was the only one who looked as though he had just been to a barbershop.

  “He caught on fast,” the man said as he reached out and petted Ralph. “Cute little mutt. Have you had him long?”

  Jamie shook her head. “He followed me home a few days ago,” she lied.

  “Smart dog,” the man said, picking up a domino and fiddling with it.

  His nails were carefully trimmed. His shoes were polished to a high gloss.

  “You live around here?” the man asked.

  “No, I’m visiting my aunt,” Jamie said, trying to keep her voice calm and friendly. “Well, thanks again,” she said, backing away.

  The man stood. “Well, Grandpa,” he said to the man across the table from him, “are you ready to go? Grandma probably has that cake baked by now.”

  The elderly man nodded and, using the table for leverage, struggled to his feet.

  Jamie watched as the two men walked across the street and entered a two-story house that, like the others in the neighborhood, had seen better days. In the driveway, a shiny black SUV was parked behind an elderly tan sedan.

  Jamie went weak in the knees. She drew in several breaths to calm herself then carried her baby back across the park with her dog at her side.

  She put Billy in his sling and snapped Ralph’s leash back on his collar then gathered up the blanket. “That man could have been one of them,” Jamie told Ralph. “They know I have a dog. Montgomery would have told them what you look like. They are looking for a tall girl with a baby and a scruffy grayish-brown dog with long legs.”

  She left Ralph in the apartment, then with Billy still in the sling walked to the neighborhood drugstore, where she bought inexpensive electric hair clippers.

  Back at the apartment, she put several sheets of newspaper on the floor and trimmed off most of Ralph’s hair. He didn’t much approve of the procedure but tolerated it. “It’s your summer cut,” Jamie told him. “You’ll be much cooler.”

  Then she sat back on her haunches and regarded her handiwork. Ralph was now a nonscruffy grayish-brown dog with long legs.

  Mrs. Duffy did a double take when she saw him. “Is that the same dog?” she asked.

  Thursday afternoon, Jamie—with Billy in the sling—walked to the downtown bus terminal and caught a bus to Norman, which was two towns south of Oklahoma City. Once she had arrived at the Norman terminal, she went to a secluded corner and nursed Billy. At six o’clock, she placed her phone call and closed her eyes and silently implored, Please let there be good news.

  Mrs. Brammer answered almost immediately.

  “It’s Jamie. Have you heard from Joe?” she asked, holding her breath, her eyes still closed.

  “Not yet, dear. How are you? Are things any better for you?”

  Jamie let out her breath. “Yes. I have a place to stay. I’m okay for now. You haven’t said anything to anyone about me, have you?”

  “Not a word. But I have thought about little else.”

  “I am so sorry. I don’t want to complicate your life.”

  “I understand that, Jamie. You realize that it could be weeks before we hear from Joe? And we have no idea when he’ll be coming home.”

  Jamie recalled how, during their first conversation, Mrs. Brammer had been so certain Joe would be home in time for his father’s birthday.

  She listened while the woman suggested that Jamie wait at least two weeks before calling again. Maybe by then she would have some news.

  Two whole weeks of waiting, Jamie thought dejectedly as she hung up the receiver. Of course, there might not be a damned thing Joe could do to change her situation. And what if she was endangering him and his parents by involving them in her troubles?

  With that frightening thought, she took a seat in the waiting room. The next bus to Oklahoma City wasn’t due for almost an hour.

  It was after nine before she finally unlocked the door to her apartment and was greeted by her dog. With the baby still in his sling, she grabbed the leash and took Ralph downstairs for a short outing before settling in for the night.

  She fed Ralph and warmed a can of soup for her own dinner and thought about what lay ahead while she ate. At this point, she had little else to do but take care of her baby, walk the dog, read, and check the mailbox daily to see if her and the baby’s birth certificates had arrived. She was in limbo until hers came. She couldn’t obtain the all-important Social Security number that would allow her to obtain a driver’s license and look for work.

  The following Monday the birth certificates arrived. Jamie felt like a thief as she looked down at the official-looking documents. Or maybe “grave robber” would be a better term.

  She looked up the address for the Social Security office and checked her map of bus routes then loaded Billy into the sling.

  The waiting room was filled with people. Jamie filled out the necessary forms and waited for her name to be called.

  When her turn came, the plump female clerk studied the form Jamie handed her. “Are you Janet Marie Wisdom?” she asked.

  By way of an answer, Jamie handed the woman the newly arrived birth
certificate.

  The woman looked it over then asked, “Have you ever been married or used another name?” Her tone of voice suggested she had asked that same question many times before.

  “No.”

  “Have you ever applied for a Social Security number before?” the woman asked in the same bored voice.

  “My parents are deceased,” Jamie said, with no idea at all if Janet Wisdom’s parents were still alive. “I don’t know if they ever obtained a Social Security number for me or not,” she fabricated. “I was raised by my aunt and uncle in Canada and haven’t needed one until now.”

  The woman attached a note to the application. “We’ll have to research it and see if you’ve already been assigned a number,” she said.

  “How long will that take?” Jamie asked.

  “Two to three weeks,” the woman said. Then she looked over Jamie’s shoulder and called the next number.

  Mrs. Duffy was sitting on the front porch when she returned to the apartment house.

  “Hey, Janet, I’ve got some fresh sandwich fixings,” she said as she struggled to her feet. “You bring that baby inside and nurse him while I set out lunch.”

  “That’s very nice of you,” Jamie said, thinking how strange it was to be called by another name.

  She followed the woman through her cluttered living room to the kitchen. On the refrigerator door was a large, colored picture of Amanda Tutt Hartmann.

  Jamie gasped.

  “Isn’t that the most wonderful picture!” Ruby exclaimed. “I ordered it from Alliance headquarters in Virginia.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  WHEN THE TIME finally arrived for Jamie to call Mrs. Brammer once again, she and Billy rode the bus east to Shawnee, a small town with huge grain elevators towering over it. If anyone was monitoring the Brammers’ phone calls, they would have realized that Jamie was living in central Oklahoma, but she was determined that they would not be able to pinpoint her location any more closely than that. Next time, if there was a next time, she planned to go farther east, rather than always fanning out from Oklahoma City.

  Like before, Mrs. Brammer answered on the fourth ring.

  “Oh, Jamie,” she said. “Joe called, but Art and I weren’t home so he called our next-door neighbor just to make sure we were okay. He was calling from someplace in Turkey and said it would probably be a couple of weeks before he called again. With that in mind, Art and I decided we’d head over to Arkansas for a little fishing. I hope that’s okay with you.”

  “Of course it is,” Jamie said, trying to conceal her disappointment. “I hope you have a wonderful time.”

  “Is your…your situation still the same?” Mrs. Brammer asked.

  “Yes, still the same. But I’m okay for now,” Jamie said halfheartedly. “Enjoy your trip, and I’ll call in two weeks. If you’re not back, I’ll try the following week.”

  “Jamie, it seems to me that whatever your trouble is, you probably need someone with an established law practice. Joe has a law degree but has yet to take the bar exam. And I know I said that Joe was coming home this summer, but I don’t want you to count on that. We really have no idea what his plans are. He has an inheritance from his great-aunt and can do pretty much what he wants. He might even decide to take another course at Oxford, so I really think you need to find someone on this side of the ocean to help you.”

  “You may be right,” Jamie allowed. “It’s just so complicated. I’m afraid someone else might think I’m crazy or paranoid.”

  The bus was only half full for the ride back to Oklahoma City. Jamie sat in the rear and went over the conversation with Mrs. Brammer, who was probably getting weary of all the intrigue. Just as Jamie herself was. After all, she was not in jail. Other than the abrupt cancellation of her bank account, she had no evidence that anyone was looking for her or following her or plotting her demise.

  Then she remembered how she had felt at that ATM machine in Liberal, Kansas—like a housefly that was about to be swatted. She could not begin to imagine the power and resources of someone who had the ability to manipulate other people’s lives in such a manner.

  Jamie felt almost angry with Joe. He was off having the time of his life while she was having the worst of hers. What was the point of all this waiting around for him anyway, she asked herself. He had earned a law degree but he wasn’t a practicing attorney. He hadn’t even taken the bar exam. What could he do? What could anyone do to change her “situation”? She was living in limbo, and maybe she would have to settle for such an existence for years and years to come. To settle for always being afraid. Always thinking that disaster was just around the next corner.

  She looked down at Billy, who was the reason for it all. What a confusing, frightening, catastrophic mess her life was in, yet at its center was love.

  Evelyn Washburn watched through the screen door as the two nice-looking young men in dark suits walked down the front walk toward their car. With a sigh, she closed the door and headed for the kitchen.

  She sat at the bar and picked up the telephone, anxious to tell her daughter and son-in-law about the two visitors.

  Evelyn started to dial their number in Houston, then remembered that Millie and Art were on a trip. Millie was good about checking in every few days when they were away from home, but Evelyn wished that they weren’t so stubborn about getting a cell phone. It was ridiculous for them not to have one in this day and age. And a computer, for goodness sake! Some folks were so old-fashioned.

  She opened the sliding-glass door and stepped out onto the patio, where she had been watering her potted plants and hanging baskets before the two men rang her doorbell and flashed their badges. She turned on the hose and went over the strange encounter in her mind while she finished up. The badges had certainly looked official and the men were very polite, but the entire encounter had made her uncomfortable.

  She had answered their questions but volunteered nothing. Yes, she and her husband had been neighbors of Jamie Long and her grandmother, but they hadn’t seen or heard from Jamie since her grandmother’s funeral. And no, her grandson Joe had never dated the girl.

  When Evelyn finished watering the plants, she paused to admire her yard. Everything was so green and lush in Georgia. In Mesquite, it had been a battle to keep a pretty yard throughout the long, hot summer.

  She went inside to wash some salad greens and start dinner. Shortly, she heard the garage door opening and dried her hands. “Good haircut,” she said as her husband came through the door.

  She accepted his peck on her cheek. “The strangest thing happened,” she told him as she took her usual perch at the bar and watched as Paul poured two glasses of wine.

  In the middle of her story, the phone rang. Evelyn had a feeling that it might be Millie.

  “Hi, Mother. How’s it going?” her daughter’s voice asked.

  “Where are you?” Evelyn asked.

  “In Texarkana. We’re having car trouble and will be here overnight.”

  “Well, I’m glad you called,” Evelyn said. “I have something rather disturbing to tell you.”

  Ruby Duffy continued to make overtures of friendship toward “Janet” and little Billy, but Jamie found herself making excuses when the landlady invited her for lunch or dinner. Or offered her a ride to the grocery store, even though it would have made her life easier. She was fearful of giving herself away, what with the web of lies she had created around herself, and was disturbed by Ruby’s adoration of Amanda Hartmann, whose name she seemed to work into every conversation.

  Jamie tried to pass the time reading and walking but was growing more restless with each passing day. Her spirits rose, however, when her Social Security card arrived. She could get a driver’s license now and buy a car and look for a job. She looked in the phone book for the nearest tag agency.

  After lunch, with Billy in his sling, she hiked over to Classen Boulevard.

  The agency was quite busy, and Jamie took a number and the required form and he
aded for the waiting area. She filled out the form then watched as those ahead of her had their picture taken and then a few minutes later received their driver’s licenses. It took her a while to realize that these people were also being fingerprinted. Jamie tried to remember if she’d been fingerprinted when she obtained her Texas driver’s license. Or perhaps at some other time in her life.

  She really could not remember.

  She left before her name was called. On the way home, she stopped at a pay phone and placed a phone call to the tag agency in Mesquite, Texas. She told the woman who answered the phone that she was a reporter doing a survey for a story. Did the state of Texas fingerprint those applying for a driver’s license?

  The answer was yes.

  No matter what name she used, if she obtained a driver’s license, she could be traced through her fingerprints. She slumped against the wall, discouragement washing over her like a tidal wave. What other obstacles were waiting for her?

  She felt like a hunted animal in the middle of an ever-tightening circle of native beaters with a man on horseback waiting to take the perfect shot.

  Late that afternoon, when Ruby climbed the two flights of steps to tell Jamie she had a pot of homemade vegetable soup on the stove and cornbread baking in the oven, Jamie didn’t have the heart to decline her invitation to dinner, which even included Ralph.

  Except for the picture of Amanda on the refrigerator door, Jamie liked Ruby’s homey kitchen, with a rocking chair in the corner, a herb garden on the windowsill, and a television on its stand with Jamie’s old friend CNN often flickering on the screen. It was on now with the sound muted.

  She sat with her back to the refrigerator. The soup and cornbread were delicious, and she accepted seconds. She was explaining how she hoped to find work in a day-care center so she could keep Billy with her when she realized that Ruby was no longer listening. Something on the television screen had captured the landlady’s attention.

  Jamie glanced at the screen.