At the Heart of the Universe by Samuel Shem Read Free Book Online Page B

was to come and have sex (not “make love”) right away on demand, and then finally, after six months of failure, getting pregnant and letting herself go, imagining their baby, their child, and feeling suffused with joy—feeling like the Mona Lisa! That one night, waking up beside her husband, not wanting to disturb him, and going to the bathroom and something terrible starting to happen and the cramp becoming a tearing and a loss and she knew it before she looked but she had to. There, in the toilet—the toilet !—a bright red blossoming out from a stringy central bud. Dissolving. Her cry awoke Pep, brought him running—she tried to flush it before he arrived but he saw it too. She never got pregnant again. Years of trying, and never again.
    Dazed by her sudden anguish, she feels Pep’s arm around her shoulders, and she takes the tissue he offers. She focuses on her breath. Gradually calms down. The chief stares at her, a stare she sees as containing all the detached slyness of a skilled interrogator who now knows his victim’s vulnerability. But then all at once she thinks she sees in his eyes his sense of her despair, even a flicker of kindness. At least a lack of cruelty. Which is something. She feels herself soften, and to her surprise she smiles at him. When she goes on her voice is calm.
    â€œWho are the mothers?”
    The chief seems surprised. “They are either from the country and married, or from the city and single.”
    â€œDo the mothers ever leave the babies right here at the police station?”
    The chief seems indignant at this, and with a hint of passion says something that Rhett translates as “They can’t. It’s illegal .”
    â€œBut does it happen?”
    â€œDon’t push him,” Rhett warns.
    â€œClio—”
    â€œPlease ask.”
    Rhett asks. The chief stares at Clio, then at Pep, and says nothing.
    â€œHave you ever had a mother come here looking for her baby?”
    The chief, hearing this, seems amazed, and laughs. He speaks with inordinate slowness, looking at Clio and then at Pep, rather than at Rhett. “No. It’s illegal. It’s all illegal. You don’t understand. These women have a problem. They want to solve their problem. They solve their problem and it is over with, and they go on with their lives. It is a relief. To find them is what you want, not what they want. They don’t want to be found. They don’t think about it, they don’t care about it. It’s over.”
    â€œThey don’t care what happens to their babies?”
    â€œThey don’t care.”
    â€œBut... on their birthdays... these are their little girls—”
    â€œLook,” the chief says, getting up. “They are in a terrible time in their lives. They are in pain. Some of them kill themselves. They have a problem. We solve their problem. Don’t be selfish .” He smiles, and says, “Thank you for coming to talk.”
    They thank the chief for taking the time and walk out of the tiny rooms onto the veranda, blinded by the sun and heat and dust.
    5
    Clio steps out of the shade of the veranda into the searing heat and walks quickly through what seems like solid yellow dust toward the minibus, searching for Katie. “Where’s Katie? I don’t see her!” Her heart sinks, her ankles go all watery.
    On tip-toe she looks in. Katie is lying down, curled up on the seat, asleep.
    Clio looks up at the damp dusty sky and sends up a prayer of thanks to God, or to the gods. As she brings her eyes back down she sees a puzzling sight. There in a far corner of the courtyard is what looks like a pile of dirty rags, but it’s moving. She walks over, Rhett and Pep following.
    As she gets closer she sees that the rags are human beings. One is a small old Chinese woman with a deeply lined and weather-beaten face, dressed in tattered clothes. She squats on her heels in the dust, staring