Unholy Birth Page 16

  “How did you find this doctor?”

  “Dr. Matthews,” she replied.

  “Then you’re the one from Palm Springs who contacted Genitor?”

  “No, they contacted me.”

  “Contacted you?” That wasn’t what I was told, I thought. “How did they find out you had any interest in such a thing?”

  “I dabbled a bit with it on the Internet and one day found an e-mail from Dr. Matthews, describing this couple’s desire to have a child and how much they were willing to pay.”

  “Oh. They have a way of tracking people who show interest.” That explains it, I thought.

  “I told myself if you were doing it, I could, especially since I don’t have to care for the baby or raise a child. Can you keep it to yourself awhile, Kate. Please. No one else knows about it, not even Willy,” she said, “although I’m sure she’ll know now.”

  “Are you pregnant already?”

  “Just found out for sure,” she said. “I won’t show until the summer, maybe. She’s great,” she said, nodding toward the inner office. “Good luck with your pregnancy. See ya,” she added, and left.

  I watched her go and then I turned to see Dr. Aaron standing there.

  “You got here quickly,” she said. “I had planned for her to be gone. She was hoping to keep it a secret.”

  “That’s a secret you can’t keep very long,” I said. “It’s stupid to think so. I never would have imagined her doing this, even for money.”

  “Everyone has a price.”

  “Not me,” I said.

  “That’s wonderful, Kate. The devil will never knock at your door. Now, let’s get you in here and see what’s going on,” she said, smiling.

  Bea was suddenly there inside the window smiling at me, too.

  It was as if they could both materialize out of thin air.

  Just like the figure I had seen sitting beside Lois Matthews that first night.

  13.

  AFTER DR. AARON EXAMINED ME, she sat back and made some notes while I dressed. I sensed she was being somewhat hesitant and I thought she looked like someone trying to workout how to explain something terrible in a euphemistic fashion. It made me even more anxious.

  “Is there something very wrong?” I finally asked.

  She looked up from her papers.

  “Well,” she began, “it’s not something terribly wrong. I’ve seen this condition before and…”

  “What condition?”

  “There isn’t any terminology as such for your particular situation, Kate.”

  “You’re frightening me,” I said with an underlying note of anger. “Whatever it is, just tell me, for godsakes.”

  “I am. I am,” she said. “It’s sort of a combination between something real and unreal.”

  “What?”

  “There’s a condition, a disorder that’s been written about since antiquity. In fact Hippocrates set down the first written account of it around 300 B.C., and recorded twelve different cases of women with the disorder.”

  “What disorder, Dr. Aaron?”

  “Well, the term for it is pseudocyesis,” she said.

  “Pseudo? Something false? What?”

  “False pregnancy,” she replied.

  I smirked and shook my head.

  “How can anyone be falsely pregnant?”

  “With pseudocyesis, women have symptoms similar to true pregnancy. They have morning sickness, tender breasts, gain weight, suffer abdominal distension, and many report they experience the sensation of fetal movement, known as quickening, even though there is no fetus present. There are even breast changes, uterine enlargement, and softening of the cervix. They can go into false labor.

  “The most famous case on record is the case of Mary Tudor, the Queen of England, who believed on more than one occasion that she was pregnant when she wasn’t.”

  “So you’re telling me I have pseudocyesis?”

  “Yes,” she said coolly and calmly. “I’m afraid that would be my diagnosis, Kate.”

  “Maybe the results were wrong after all, despite what you think.”

  She stared a moment.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s retest you.”

  She went about it and then left me in the examination room. I sprawled out on the examination table where she had provided me with a pillow. Less than an hour later, she returned, closed the door softly, and smiled.

  I sat up, feeling a little dazed.

  “Well?”

  “I’m sorry, Kate. It’s the same result. You’re definitely not pregnant. You have the characteristics, the symptoms of someone suffering with pseudocyesis.”

  “Why would I have that? Why?” I practically screamed at her.

  “The obvious cause for pseudocyesis is a woman’s intense desire to become pregnant. In some cases, the intense fear of becoming pregnant or the displeasure inherent in looking pregnant causes the internal conflicts and changes in the endocrine system which mirrors the symptoms of pseudocyesis.”

  “Why would someone make herself look pregnant if she hated the thought of it?”

  “To get it over with. I’m not saying that’s you. Other depressive disorders have triggered the same symptoms. You’d have to go to some therapist to get out the root cause and frankly, soon it won’t matter.”

  “So what you’re saying is I’m causing all the false pregnancy symptoms myself? Emotionally, mentally, whatever, I’m causing my breasts to enlarge faster, my abdomen to distend faster, all of it, even the quickening I feel?”

  “Yes, I believe that is it, Kate.” She shrugged. “Hopefully, after the next insemination, it will all be physically valid and accountable anyway, so I wouldn’t put you through any therapy. We’ll deal with it just the way we would if you were that far along,” she said, and flashed a smile.

  “What happens to these women who are not really pregnant?”

  “Some are cured through hypnosis, purgatives, opioids like endorphin, fentanyl, and methadone or…”

  “Or what?”

  “Some have what we call hysterical childbirth.”

  “You mean they go through it all as if they’re actually giving birth?”

  “Yes, and then it’s over.”

  “But there’s no baby.”

  “But there’s closure,” Dr. Aaron said. She stood up. “Try to relax. Do other things. Don’t think about being pregnant so much. Distract yourself. You’re still taking the pill I gave you?”

  “Maybe that’s causing all this,” I said.

  “No,” she said, smiling. “Hardly. Believe me, it’s psychological, but if you stop taking the pill, you’ll reduce your chances of really becoming pregnant.”

  “I feel trapped,” I muttered.

  “Nonsense. This will pass. You’ll be fine. You don’t need to do anything else right now and I certainly don’t want you to treat yourself as if you were someone with an illness, Kate. Take it easier, of course. No heavy work. Nothing that will strain you, but do you normal routine. I’m always here for you,” she added. “Okay?”

  I nodded and stood up.

  “This and now those religious fanatics annoying you can be quite a weight to carry. I know,” she said, putting her arm around my shoulders to lead me out. “But we’re all looking after you, watching for you. You’re not alone. Don’t ever feel alone,” she said.

  I looked at her a bit surprised.

  “I never feel that, Dr. Aaron. I couldn’t ask for a better partner than Willy. We don’t let each other down.”

  “I’m sure. You are lucky. Call me whenever you want,” she said, and then closed the door between us the moment I stepped out to the lobby.

  I looked at Bea, who was smiling at me from behind the glass. She opened the door and leaned forward.

  “Tell my sister our father called and said he was very happy she’s doing better.”

  “Why didn’t he call her himself?” I shot back. I didn’t know anything about their father. Eve had never mentione
d him and I was in an irritable state of mind.

  “It’s easier to reach me,” she replied. “Eve understands.”

  She closed the window. I can see why Eve avoids her, I thought.

  Sterling jumped out of the car the moment I emerged from the office and rushed to open the door for me as if I were already nine months into the pregnancy that I just learned had yet to even start despite my symptoms. I felt like some kind of nutcase regardless of how Dr. Aaron had tried to describe me. How was I going to explain this to Willy?

  Sterling closed the door and looked around carefully as he strolled back to his side and got in.

  “Everything all right?” He asked.

  It sounded funny to me and I laughed. He turned with surprise.

  “Yes,” I said. “Everything is just wonderful.” I closed my eyes and lay back.

  “Back to the plant or home?”

  “My car’s at the plant,” I said. Now I was wishing I had taken Willy’s initial advice and not gone at all to the plant. I hadn’t accomplished all that much there anyway.

  This time I didn’t have to tell Sterling to drive faster. He drove as if we were being pursued and a few times, I did catch him studying the traffic behind us before deciding to accelerate and weave around cars.

  When we pulled into the plant parking lot, I got out before Sterling could come around to open my door, and I hurried into the plant. Everything was humming along. Four members of the White Party committee were there beside Willy and Eve watching the production. Willy saw me, excused herself and followed me into the office where I told her what Dr. Aaron had diagnosed as my problem.

  “That’s incredible,” she said. “Characteristics of false pregnancy?”

  “She didn’t come right out and say it, but I think she believes I have this pseudocyesis because I’m trying to speed up my pregnancy and get it over with as quickly as possible. In other words, I’m a contradiction. I wanted the baby, but I don’t want to be pregnant after all. I can’t stand the idea of losing my figure and going through these symptoms.”

  Willy nodded, thinking.

  “Makes sense to me,” she said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Hey, it’s not a fatal illness, Kate. So what did she tell you to do?”

  “If I wasn’t going to continue with the insemination process, she’d have me see a shrink, but under the circumstances, there’s nothing to do. Behave as if it’s all natural, I suppose. Ignore the entire thing.”

  “And the pill she gave you?”

  “She claims it has nothing to do with any of this, but if I stop it, I’ll reduce my chances for the next insemination.”

  “So, keep taking it,” she said, nodding. “And do what she says, behave as if it’s all natural. Ignore it.”

  “Like I’ll be able to ignore looking and feeling pregnant when I’m not?” I came back at her in a voice so shrill that it was strange even for me to think of it as mine.”

  She winced as if I had reached out and slapped her.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, seeing the troubled look on her face. After all, I was pulling this right in the midst of this tremendous effort to produce for the biggest party in the whole Coachella valley.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll deal with it. I know how you are about your figure and I love you for it, but this is why many women choose to have surrogates, I guess.”

  “That brings me to the pièce de résistance,” I said. She raised her eyebrows.

  “There’s more?”

  “Janet Madison has gone to Genitor and become pregnant. She’s using Dr. Aaron.”

  “What? Get out of here. She’s a single schoolteacher. Why would she want a child?”

  “She doesn’t. It’s what you just said. She’s getting paid to be a surrogate. Twenty-five thousand.”

  “No shit.” She smiled. “Wait until she starts to suffer symptoms and show. She’s such a sissy puss.”

  “Lois never mentioned that part of their enterprise, procreating surrogate mothers.”

  “Hey, she’s not asking us to invest in Genitor. Who cares?” She gazed through the window into the plant. “Eve’s going to get a kick out of this. She isn’t exactly fond of Janet.”

  “I told her I’d keep her secret for now.”

  “Like she would keep yours. Screw her,” Willy said. “Besides, I don’t expect to give it another iota of thought. We’re too busy with important things.”

  “Oh. Bea asked me to tell Eve their father called and was happy to hear she’s doing well. I got the sense Eve and her father aren’t getting along that well and Bea isn’t exactly upset about it. Sibling rivalry with capital letters.”

  “Don’t go there,” Willy said. “We’re too busy to become involved in other people’s family problems.”

  “Whatever. Give her the message. I’m heading home,” I said. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just take it easy. I’ll call you later. It’s going to be a long night.”

  She hugged me and then walked me out to the car. Sterling was nowhere in sight.

  “I don’t see my bodyguard,” I muttered.

  “That’s the idea,” Willy said. “If they see him, they’ll keep their distance.”

  “Isn’t that what we want, them keeping their distance, lots of distance?”

  “No. We want to catch them and bathe them in acid. You sure you’re okay to drive yourself home?”

  “Yes,” I said. We kissed and I got into my car and started away.

  It wasn’t until I stopped at a traffic light that I saw the envelope on the passenger’s side. My name was on the outside. I just stared at it. The light turned green and I continued driving, avoiding looking at it until I pulled into the driveway and then into the garage. When I shut the engine and saw the garage door close behind me, I opened the envelope.

  There was only a picture inside but it was gruesome, a mass of red bones and blood, twisted flesh and what looked like a face in the center with yellow eyes and jagged teeth. It looked like a form of fish with the scales developing into limbs. Below the picture were the words, “This is living in you.”

  I tossed it to the floor and screamed, struggling to get out of the car quickly and nearly falling in the process.

  The sound of the garage door rising threw me into another panic. I screamed until I saw Sterling Plunkett standing there. He had a pistol in his right hand.

  “What is it?” he asked, gazing around the garage.

  I nodded at the car.

  “In the car on the floor in front,” I managed, and backed up toward the door into the house.

  He moved quickly to the car, opened the passenger side door and immediately found the envelope. He looked at the picture and then put it all in his inside coat pocket.

  “I’ll take care of it,” he said.

  “Take care of it? How did that get into my car? I left it locked.”

  “Getting into a locked car ain’t hard to do, Kate. Look how easily I arranged to get into your garage. The code for your garage remote is accessible. So is the car key.”

  “What do you mean, you’ll take care of it? What are you going to do with that disgusting picture?”

  “I’ll have it processed. Might give us a clue as to exactly who they are and where they are.”

  “They got into my car; they can open the garage; they can get into my house!”

  “Not with me around,” he said. “I promise.”

  I looked at the door.

  “My sensors don’t indicate anyone entered your home.”

  I didn’t look convinced. He hurried to the door and opened it. Then he entered the house with his pistol still in hand. I walked in behind him and watched him check every room, every closet, and then the pool area. He looked into Eve’s casita as well.

  “All’s well,” he said. “I’ll be planted out front like one of your palm trees,” he assured me.

  I didn’t realize how much the sho
ck of finding the picture had upset and nauseated me. I tried lying down and resting, but the image kept replaying inside my eyelids. I wanted to call Willy to tell her, but I knew she was right in the thick of it now and she would feel she had to rush back to see me. Instead, I opted to take another one of those pink pills. If I didn’t, I was sure I wouldn’t sleep.

  Just as before, it worked like an anesthesia and I was out moments after I swallowed it.

  When I woke, it was pitch-dark in the house. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had slept almost six hours. It was nearly midnight. I flipped on the lamp and sat up. Despite my sleeping like a dead one, my body was stiff all over, especially in my lower back. I groaned and stood, rubbing it vigorously as I walked out to the kitchen. I saw the answering machine was blinking with two calls.

  The first was from Willy.

  “Hey. Tried you twice and finally reached Sterling, who told us all was well. He checked on you and found you had gone to sleep. Probably a good idea. We’re going to be here until about one or two supervising the packing of the refrigerated trucks. Call me if you want anything. Love ya.”

  I thought the second message was her checking in again because for a moment there was nothing and then I heard that now familiar voice, raspy, scary.

  “Get an abortion quickly. It is draining your very soul.”

  It clicked off. I stepped back as if the voice could come out of the answering machine and materialize into some horrific creature right before my eyes. It took me a few moments to calm down and then I hurried to the front door. Sterling should hear this, I thought.

  At first I was surprised and then grateful to see his car in our driveway. He had told me he would stay out of sight, but perhaps after they had managed to get into my car while we were at Dr. Aaron’s office, he thought he should make his presence more obvious.

  The heat that had come in during the day lingered because the sky was overcast. It was still well into the nineties, even this late. Our house and grounds were well lit. The palm trees were highlighted and the driveway itself had a line of fixtures on both sides. However, Sterling’s Town Car had heavily tinted windows so they behaved more like mirrors than windows. As I approached, I saw my image in the glass. I had fallen asleep in the clothes I had worn to Dr. Aaron’s and was still wearing them. My unbrushed hair seemed to bubble around my head in rebellious clumps. Perhaps because of the glow of the lights in the darkness, my face looked ashen.