Sarah's Project

The trailer looked like crap inside. I seldom had guests, so I rarely cleaned up. Even my lady friends insisted that we go to their places.

"Be my guest. Let me put some pants on quickly." I left the door open as I walked into the bedroom. Just to show them what a gracious host I was, I put a shirt on also.

"Do you want some coffee? It will only take about ten minutes."

I cleared some stuff off the sofa so that they could sit. There was no answer to the coffee question.

"We have a four and a half year old adopted daughter that needs a bone marrow transplant, and we were hoping that you could help us. We are willing to pay you, if necessary."

"You want to buy my bone marrow?"

"No. We want to use it and we are willing to compensate you for any inconvenience.'

"Sounds to me like you want to buy it." I was being a wise ass, and all of a sudden I realized that. These people were serious. They had a real problem and they were looking for help. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. Please continue."

"Our best chance of getting a match comes from an immediate family member. You are our best hope."

"Look. I don't want to sound like a smart ass, but I think you have the wrong guy. When was your daughter born?"

"She will be five years old this July." Marsha Simmons spoke for the first time, and she sounded sincere.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I had a vasectomy over fifteen years ago. I could not possibly be the father.'

"Why was your name on the birth certificate?"

"I can't answer that. Maybe you should ask her mother." That statement was met with silence. I was starting to feel sorry for these people, but I didn't know how to help them.

"What was the mothers name?"

"Sarah Louise Terrell."

I was at a loss for words. I guess I shouldn't have taken those damn pills from her. Of course then these people wouldn't have a daughter at all. I thought the grief was all over with and here it comes again. Old memories of my wife having sex with that damn Philadelphia politician. I was starting to forget it all and now it was back. Damn it.

"I understand now, and I apologize for my rudeness and insensitivity. I will do everything I can to help you. First, why can't Sarah do the bone marrow transplant?"

'Medically, she can't."

"She is not a match? She is the mother. She should be a match."

"Oh, she is a match, but she is too sick. The doctors refuse to even consider using her."

"Sick. How?"

"She is dying from liver failure. She has less than six months to live."

"That doesn't make sense. She has always been in perfect health. Besides that, I don't believe that a bad liver would prevent her from donating bone marrow."

"The hospital will not accept her signature on the consent form."

"You mean that she is messed up in the head also?"

They both looked at me in silence. They knew the answer, but didn't want to say it. At this point I didn't want to make them more uncomfortable than they were. Ten minutes ago I didn't give a damn about them and now I felt like I had to protect them and help them. How did that happen?

"Can either of my children help?"

"It's possible, but we thought that you were our best hope."

"Why don't you go after the father: the real father."

"We thought that was you. We have no idea who else it could be. Sarah didn't say a thing to us about another possible father."

Marsha added in. "Actually, she was not in good enough condition to explain anything. Most of the information we have came from the adoption agency."

I needed some coffee and I needed to take a leak. "Excuse me a moment."

I left my guests sitting there as I made a pot of coffee; it only took a few minutes. While it was brewing I took a badly needed morning piss. I tried to be discrete. I had already embarrassed Marsha enough.

"Where do you people live?"

"West Chester, Pennsylvania." Well, that was interesting.

"I'll make you a deal. If I tell you who your daughter's real father is you have to promise me that you will pursue him relentlessly until you get what you want."

"What are you talking about?"

"The man who fathered your daughter is a well known politician in Pennsylvania. He will of course deny everything, and he probably will have you served with legal papers to stop your efforts. If you agree to push hard enough to get him to admit the child is his, you should be able to shame him into giving the bone marrow transplant. That is what you want, right?"

"Yes of course, but how do we do all this?"

"I don't know. I am an auto body man. I beat on metal for a living. I guess your best approach would be to use TV, radio and the newspapers. Politicians will do anything to avoid bad press. Do you have any friends that could help?"

Well, now both of them were smiling. I must have said something to give them hope. "I think we can do that. Who the hell is he?"

"Malcolm Eugene Foote."

"He is running for the US Senate."

"I bet that he would do anything to avoid bad publicity."

The coffee was done but David and Marsha couldn't wait to get back home. Before they left, I told them how to contact Gloria and Josh, just in case they needed them. I was sure that they would help. I also made them tell me where Sarah was. I would probably be in Pensacola before they made it back to West Chester.

I got my haircut and bought a new shirt. Sarah was a cheating bitch who ruined my life, but I still wanted to look good when I saw her. It was another trailer park, but this time it was a nice, new doublewide. Her Volvo was there with a flat tire and a broken windshield. The woman that answered the door was not Sarah. She looked like she had been ridden hard and put away wet. She was at least forty-five, maybe fifty, and must have had a hard life. The lack of make-up didn't help and she just looked mean. I didn't get a chance to open my mouth.

"Damn it, if it isn't John Terrell. I never expected to see you here."

I had to use the old line. "You have me at a disadvantage."

"Sherry Harte. Come on in sweetie. Can I get you a beer?"

"No, but thank you. I am here to see Sarah."

Sherry was a big girl in many ways. She walked across the room and stood by the dining room buffet.

"There she is, John. Look all you want."

Her hand gestured toward the brass urn sitting in the middle of the otherwise empty buffet. It looked like I was too late. I didn't move: just stood and stared at the container before me.

"Can I have that beer now?"

Sarah moved to Pensacola after giving the baby up for adoption. She bought the trailer with money she got from Bixler Enterprises after she got fired. She had profit sharing, 401k's as well as vacation and sick leave time. She ended up with a job at a local garment factory working in the shipping department. That's where she met Sherry. Sherry rented a room from Sarah. Every cent that Sarah made went into booze. She started with wine and gradually switched over to the hard stuff: whatever was the cheapest. She eventually lost her job because of the drinking, and was forced to use her savings after that. She never dated or went out. Sherry stayed with her and paid the utilities and bought food, which Sarah did not eat. It took her over three years to kill herself. Surprisingly, she had a Will and left me the double wide and the Volvo.

Sherry explained that Sarah had become so despondent about what she did, that she just gave up. She didn't try to prevent the pregnancy or even abort it. The adoption was arranged months before the baby was even born. She never went back to work, except for menial jobs that she did poorly. Sherry said that Sarah seemed to have no ambition and no reason to live. She talked about me a lot, but was afraid to try and contact me. Gloria had actually given her my number, but I never got a call. It was almost as if her one night affair hurt her more that it did me.

I stayed for two weeks and then I sold the trailer to Sherry for a buck and got a grand for the Volvo. Two days later, I was in West Chester, visiting my new friends: David and Marsha.

Malcolm Eugene Foote balked at first, but David and Marsha turned the screws until he gave in. He insisted on DNA tests, which proved that he was the father. To save face, he was more or less forced into the bone marrow transplant, which was a success. Malcolm's political career and married life did not seem to fair as well. His drop in the polls was so rapid that the party replaced him with another candidate months before the election. He wife filed for divorce and was very public about it.

Right now, Sarah and I are on our way to Dallas to see Gloria and my grandkids. I don't know how long I will keep Sarah with me. I guess until a better one comes along.