The Surrogate

by Henry Wall Judith

  Oh Mister Moon, moon, bright and shiny moon

  Please shine down on,

  Have a heart and shine on,

  Please shine down on me, Oh Mister Moon.

  The night sky brought to mind an evening when she and Joe had stretched out on the grass in the backyard and looked up at the moon through a pair of binoculars. Jamie had been aware that Joe was watching her as she studied the pockmarked lunar surface, amazed at the details she could make out with just binoculars. He told her that her hair looked silver in the moonlight. And he had touched a strand.

  With her dark hair and a baby in her arms, Joe probably wouldn’t recognize her as the girl he had once known.

  When Billy began to try to eat his fists, Jamie called to Ralph, who was nosing around under a yucca plant by the front steps. When he didn’t respond, she used a firmer tone, and he backed out from under the bush.

  “Good boy,” she told him, scratching his head. “Let’s go upstairs and feed this baby.”

  She had just finished nursing Billy when there was a knock on the door. She went to the door and, leaving the security chain engaged, opened it just an inch.

  When she saw that it was Lynette, she disengaged the chain and invited her inside.

  The hospital had just called, Lynette explained. The eleven o’clock shift was short, and she had been asked to fill in. “Could you look after Sally Ann?” she asked.

  Jamie agreed, of course. Lynette said she would bring Sally Ann up around ten-thirty.

  Jamie had hoped to purchase a secondhand playpen, which could double as a bed for Sally Ann, but she could manage for one night. She put Billy in the infant seat, changed the sheet on his bed, then took a shower. She had on a nightshirt when Lynette arrived with her baby and pink polka-dotted diaper bag.

  She watched Lynette place her sleeping child in Billy’s bed, cover her with a lightweight blanket, and leave a second blanket at the foot of the bed.

  “I just fed her,” Lynette said. “If she wakes up in the night, offer her a pacifier. If that doesn’t work, give her a bottle. I’ll pick her up around seven-fifteen or so.” Lynette put a hand on Jamie’s arm. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have you looking after her.”

  Jamie locked the door behind Lynette and carried Billy into the bedroom. Ralph was already curled up at the foot of the bed. She sat on the side of the bed with Billy on her knees and told him what a very handsome little boy he was and how very much she loved him.

  And he smiled.

  It wasn’t just gas. It was a real smile. But just to make sure, she kept cooing and talking.

  Billy smiled again, waving his arms and legs and looking quite proud of himself. And Jamie’s heart absolutely melted.

  She convinced him to do it yet again. “Look, Ralphie,” she said. “Billy is smiling at us.”

  Today had been a good day, Jamie thought. And yesterday, too. Two good days in a row. Her baby had smiled for the first time. She had an income and a new hairdo and had begun her search for a car. And she actually had two friends—Lynette and Ruby.

  Before turning out the bedroom light, Jamie padded across the living room to check on Lynette’s baby. Moonlight streamed through the open window, illuminating the sleeping infant. Little Sally Ann. Such a pretty little girl. Jamie pulled the lightweight blanket up to her chin and put a hand on her tiny fragile chest, feeling it move up and down. Babies were so precious. Life was so precious.

  Then she went into the bedroom where her own baby lay sleeping. Even though Billy was months away from rolling over, she had stuffed a rolled-up blanket between the mattress and the wall and another one between the mattress and the headboard.

  She sat on the side of the bed for a time just watching Billy sleep. The feeling that swelled in her breast went beyond love, beyond adoration. It encompassed something quite elemental and even ferocious. No one was ever going to take her baby away from her. Ever.

  She reached down to pat Ralph’s head and tell him good night. He didn’t open his eyes, but his tail swished a bit. “You’re all worn out, aren’t you, boy? Me, too. It’s been a busy day.”

  Then she stretched out beside her baby and stared out at the sky for a time. She couldn’t see the moon from this window, but the stars were bright and mysterious. She wondered where Joe was at this moment and what he was thinking.

  Just before she closed her eyes, she glanced through the open doorway of the bedroom and could just make out the form of Lynette’s sleeping baby.

  Chapter Thirty

  IT WAS A FEW minutes after one when Jamie discovered that Lynette’s baby was missing. Billy had been trying to wake up. Sometimes he would go back to sleep if she walked around the apartment jiggling him in her arms. That’s what she had been doing when she realized Sally Ann was no longer in the baby bed.

  Panic filled Jamie’s chest and clouded her mind. They knew where she was. They thought they had taken her baby.

  Even as she tried to deal with the horror of the missing baby, her mind was trying to push ahead.

  How long would it take before they realized the baby they had was a girl?

  And why hadn’t the person who took Sally Ann killed Jamie first?

  Jamie imagined a shadowy figure putting a gun with a silencer to her temple while she slept and pulling the trigger. Or putting a pillow over her face and suffocating her.

  But there was something wrong with both scenarios. And with Jamie sleeping through Sally Ann’s kidnapping. Ralph would have alerted her the instant an intruder set foot in the apartment.

  Ralph would have barked.

  Ralph!

  She raced to the bedroom. Her scruffy little dog was still curled up on the foot of the bed. Jamie knew before she touched him that he was dead. But still her mind cried out in protest. Not her Ralph. Not her sweet little dog who had been at her side for all these many months. Who had saved her sanity and been her devoted little buddy. Who had loved her unconditionally and trusted her completely.

  She wanted to scream. To cry out in her grief. And rage. But she didn’t have time to rage or grieve. Not even for Ralph.

  She had to get out of here.

  She put Billy on the bed, grabbed her backpack, and raced around frantically stuffing things inside. Some clothes for Billy. A couple of baby blankets. Diapers. The baby sling. The Oklahoma map. Then she realized she still had on her nightshirt. She threw on some clothes and stuffed an extra shirt and underwear in the backpack.

  She reached under the mattress and pulled out the manila envelope and slid it under the pad in the infant carrier. Then she put her baby in the carrier and bent to kiss her little dead dog good-bye, her chest heaving with the pain of her loss. “I am so sorry,” she whispered. “Good-bye, my darling Ralph. I’ll never forget you.”

  Blind with tears, she slung the backpack over her shoulder and picked up the infant carrier. And glanced at the clock on the bureau. Less than ten minutes had passed since she realized Sally Ann was gone.

  Billy was chewing on his fists and only seconds away from crying. On the way to the door she picked up Sally Ann’s pacifier from the baby bed. She didn’t take the time to wash it or even wipe it on her sleeve. Billy had never used a pacifier, but he latched on instantly.

  Ever so carefully, Jamie unlocked the door and, leaving the chain lock engaged, peeked out into the hall. Then she closed the door, disengaged the chain lock, and opened it again. She took one last look over her shoulder and saw a pair of feet appear in the open window.

  The kidnapper was coming back to kill her.

  She slipped into the hall and gently closed the door behind her. Then raced down the hall. Down three flights of stairs.

  Once she had reached the first floor, she unlocked the front door and opened it a few inches, then turned around and tiptoed toward the back of the house to the basement door. In the inky darkness she crept down the basement stairs. The laundry room with two high cellar windows was less dark. She paused to let her eyes adjust. Pushing
the wooden table would make too much noise. It took all her strength to lift it and place it under one of the windows. She put the infant carrier and backpack on the table, climbed on top of it, unlatched the window, and carefully lowered it. It was a tight squeeze to get her long body through the opening. Once through she reached back inside for the infant carrier and the backpack. Then she reached down and pulled the window closed.

  She was hidden by the bushes and crouched there unmoving for a time. She heard the front door being pushed open. Footsteps on the porch. Billy was trying to push the pacifier from his mouth, but she held it there with one hand and frantically unbuttoned her shirt with the other and scooped her baby from the carrier.

  She was sure the kidnapper was not alone. He had already given Sally Ann to an accomplice and returned to kill Jamie. Probably there were others besides those two. They would fan out to look for her.

  She nursed Billy until she was sure that he wouldn’t cry then put him back in the carrier and crept across the deep shadows between Ruby’s apartment house and the one next door, quickly taking cover behind its overgrown shrubs. Pressed against the wall, she made her way toward the front of the building and climbed over the railing onto the covered porch. Keeping to the shadows, she tiptoed across the porch and climbed down into the shrubbery on the other side of the building, which was on a corner. The bus-stop corner. She waited for a few minutes, watching for any sort of movement. Then she sat in the moist dirt behind a huge, overgrown lilac bush to wait for morning and to cry for her little dead dog. She knew what had happened. Someone had been watching her and knew that she took Ralph out front last thing every night and had left a piece of poisoned meat by the front steps.

  After they had killed her, they would have disposed of her and Ralph’s bodies and made it look as though she had fled in the night with her baby and dog. Ruby would have remembered her bruised forehead and concluded that Jamie was once again running away from an abusive boyfriend.

  Except the kidnapper had taken the wrong baby. Soon someone was going to realize that. Jamie closed her eyes and prayed. Please don’t let them kill Lynette’s baby. Please.

  She imagined Lynette coming in the morning and getting Ruby to open the door when Jamie did not respond to her knock. The police would be called. Would the police think that the woman who called herself Janet Wisdom had fled with both babies?

  By now the kidnapper and his accomplices would be driving up and down the streets looking for her. Maybe they had called in others to help with the search.

  She tried to make herself as comfortable as possible, leaning against the side of the house. She could feel the moisture from the damp earth penetrating the seat of her jeans and scooped a layer of dead leaves between herself and the ground.

  And so she stayed. For hours. Grieving for her dog. Holding her baby. Wondering what was going to happen to them.

  “We have the baby,” Felipe said when he had Hartmann on the line. He was in the back of a panel truck parked inside a garage at the end of the alley. “Carl and Luis have gone back to deal with the girl.”

  “Is the baby all right?”

  “Seems to be. It is with the woman in the other vehicle.”

  “Good. You figured out how to get the girl’s body out of the apartment?”

  “Toss it out the window. The dog, too. Then we will pick them up and be on our way. The plane is waiting at a rural airstrip south of here. After we leave the baby in Virginia, we will fly over the ocean and dump the bodies.”

  “Call me before you take off.”

  Next Felipe called the woman. “The baby okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but I thought you said it was a boy.”

  Felipe’s blood ran cold. “What are you saying?”

  “The kid crapped and I just changed its diaper. This baby is a girl.”

  Felipe paused for only a moment. He’d always known a time like this would come—a time when he himself would become the focus of Gus Hartmann’s rage. He got out of the truck, opened the garage door, then got back in and drove away. The waiting plane would take him to an island off the coast of Honduras. From there he would take a boat to the place that only he knew about. It was a relief, really. He had enough money in Swiss accounts to last three lifetimes.

  At midnight, Amanda—wearing a flowing blue bathrobe—had joined Gus in his office. She would pace for a time then lie on the sofa, all the time offering a running monologue about how they needed to get this thing over with, how wonderful it would feel to finally have the baby in her arms, how no baby could ever replace Sonny but this child was the next best thing. How it didn’t feel right when she was holding that other baby.

  Finally she ran out of steam and dozed off. Gus didn’t wake her after he’d talked to Felipe. He would wait until the plane was ready to take off. Until he was absolutely sure nothing had gone wrong.

  He sat at his desk staring at the minutes ticking by on the clock. The plane would take off in about an hour.

  After two hours had gone by, he finally had to admit that something was amiss, but he waited another thirty minutes to shake Amanda’s shoulder. “Something’s gone wrong,” he said.

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “My man would have called by now. I’ve tried to reach him, but his phone is either turned off or he ditched it.”

  “Why would he do that?” she asked.

  “Because he screwed up and is running for his life.”

  “What about the men he hired to help him?”

  “The same,” Gus said, his jaw clenching.

  “But you’ll still be able to get the baby, won’t you?” Amanda asked, panic in her voice.

  “Yes, of course,” Gus said soothingly. “But it may take a few days. You might as well go on upstairs. Take something to help you sleep.”

  “I won’t have my baby tonight?” she asked, her voice getting shrill.

  “No, not tonight.”

  Gus went to the sofa and took her in his arms. He spoke to her in his most soothing voice, telling her that everything was going to be all right, that it was just going to take a little bit longer than he had at first thought. He smoothed her hair and told her that he loved her and that they were going to be so happy with Sonny’s little boy to raise and to love. But right now, he needed for her to go to bed and let him think. And make a few phone calls.

  It was noon before he had pieced together the story. Jamie Long had been caring for her neighbor’s kid. Felipe’s man had taken the wrong kid, and Jamie Long had gotten the hell out of there. The woman working with Felipe had left the baby girl in a hospital waiting room.

  “What rotten luck,” Gus said with a slam of his fist on the desk. “Damned rotten luck.”

  Then he calmed himself. A young woman with a small baby and no luggage and no one to turn to for help shouldn’t be too hard to track down.

  When Jamie saw the morning’s first bus approaching, she crawled stiff and dirty and disheveled from the bushes. She was greeted by startled stares as she walked toward the cluster of waiting people, the infant carrier bumping against her leg. She got on the bus last, gave a crumpled bill to the driver, and sat in the seat immediately behind him.

  When the bus reached Classen Boulevard, she got off and walked to the last of the three used-car lots she had visited. The same salesman was already there unlocking the door to the office. “You come back for the car?” he asked.

  “If you’ll give me a good deal,” she said. “Otherwise, I’ll have to take my business elsewhere.”

  The man took in her disheveled appearance with a knowing look and shook his head. “The price stands as is.”

  Jamie shook her head. “If I pay what you ask, I won’t have enough money to buy gas.”

  He dropped the price one hundred dollars.

  Jamie could almost feel her pursuers getting closer by the minute. She nodded.

  When he asked what name she wanted on the bill of sale, she told him Mary Johnson.

 
With the infant carrier anchored in the back with a seat belt, she drove south for fifteen or twenty blocks and stopped by a drive-up pay phone at a service station. She might as well call the Brammers’ number in Houston one last time. By the time her call was traced and someone arrived at this location, she would be miles away.

  A man’s voice answered the phone. A young man. Jamie clutched the receiver saying nothing. Was it one of Gus Hartmann’s men just waiting for her to call? Waiting to threaten her? To lie to her and tell her that all they wanted was the baby and nothing would happen to her if she would give him up?

  But then the voice said, “Jamie, is that you?”

  She leaned forward and rested her head against the steering wheel. It had been a long time—another lifetime ago—since she had heard that voice. “Joe?” she whispered.

  “Oh, my God, Jamie, what in the world is going on with you?”

  “I can’t explain. I just called to say I wouldn’t be calling anymore. They know where I am now. I have to find someplace to hide. They even killed my dog,” she said, her voice breaking. “And they are listening to us now.”

  “Jamie, listen to me very carefully,” Joe said. “Remember that Sunday afternoon when we planned to take your grandmother to a very special place?”

  She tried to think. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “It was someplace historical that Gladys had never been to before.”

  Jamie rubbed her forehead. “I can’t think, Joe. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she repeated. “And they are tracing this call as we speak. They’ll be here any minute now.”

  Joe kept talking, his voice calm and low. “It started to rain, and we decided not to go. Gladys put a pot roast in the oven, and we played dominoes while it was cooking. Gladys won.”