He doesn’t turn a hair. “Indeed. Auxiliary screening is vital. Now, suppose I gave you…” He names a sum that makes my ears burn. for a healthy infant. Or embryo, if you’d rather do that at half-price. I guarantee it a good home, and you take that money and go to college, or whatever it is you wish to do. Would you consider it?”
“No!”
“Why? Does the father want it? Or would you rather be on welfare?”
I clench my fists so hard, my nails dig into my palms. If Jameson knew anything about welfare, he wouldn’t ask that question. As for Joel’s wants, I couldn’t imagine him looking beyond his next poetry anthology. “One, I don’t believe so, and two, definitely not. A good bribe doesn’t make it right. What kinds of mothers would sell their children? The babies would probably all be withdrawing from drugs…”
Sally shakes her head. “How do you think I motivated myself to quit smoking? The incentive of a big bonus for a healthy child, and nothing at all for a sickly one, had a lot to do with it.”
“Maybe Mr. Jameson can’t tell the difference.”
“I can tell,” says Jameson flatly. “Sally quit smoking two months before she got pregnant. A child born under one of these contracts has more explicitly defined rights than one born under more conventional circumstances; a large part centers around being free of alcohol, tobacco, and other harmful drugs. I believe it’s the most important part of the contract. Our policy is modeled on the Chinese approach to medicine—you pay the doctor when you’re healthy, and you don’t pay him when you’re sick.”
It takes me a while to mull that one over. A rebellious part of my brain notes that neither choice is without cost: destroy the little blob with other people’s money, or sell it to someone who’d pay top dollar. In which case does priceless equal worthless?
“The Adoptive Parents Association lobbied for this,” Sally said.
“Then why don’t they offer it at ROE Center?”
Sally shrugs. “They offer one kind of deal based on what they think people want, and Jamie another. How much luck would he have with any responsibilities contracts downtown?”
Jamie returns with a disk and a viewer big enough for two people to look through. Sally pops the disk in, and she and I go through the pictures of her kid.
“She looks smart,” I say after a moment, and not just because that’s what you’re supposed to tell people. The kid has the same bright eyes and go-to-hell grin that Sally has. (I’ve been told mine is similar. Wouldn’t it be nice if we were related? But we all are, if we go back far enough.)
“She’ll be nineteen months on September 8th,” Sally replies proudly. “Best of all, she lives with two people who love her and provide for her. Meanwhile, I know I’ve done the right thing for her, and I get to make something of my life. It’s a tough contract, Gil, but I bet you could do it. Good grief, you don’t even have to quit smoking!”
I lift an eyebrow at her and Jamie, a gesture which Sally always said reminded her of Mr. Spock.
“I think you’d better show me that contract.”
January 30, 2017
Dear Danielle:
Thank you for the kind comments about Dark Matter Angel. It’s my first hardback, and I’m so proud of it, I still have occasional dizzy spells.
And speaking of which, I’m thrilled to hear you made the Dean’s List for the second time at Ansonia Prep. I must say, I admire your dedication and hard work. You’re much more focused than I was at your age.
Your mother and father have decided you’re mature enough to handle the specific information that you requested about your birth, so here it is.
Thank you for giving me my life, and for helping me grow up. Most of all, thank you for being the wonderful kid you are.
