BooksBarbecue
Back The Surrogate Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Part One
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Part Two
  39. Thirty-Four
  40. Thirty-Five
  41. Thirty-Six
  42. Thirty-Seven
  43. Thirty-Eight
  44. Thirty-Nine
  45. Forty
  46. Forty-One
  47. Forty-Two
  48. Forty-Three
  49. Forty-Four
  50. Forty-Five
  51. Forty-Six
  52. Forty-Seven
  53. Forty-Eight
  54. Forty-Nine
  55. Fifty
  56. Fifty-One
  57. Part Three
  58. Fifty-Two
  59. Fifty-Three
  60. Fifty-Four
  61. Fifty-Five
  62. Fifty-Six
  63. Acknowledgments
  64. About the Author
  65. About the Publisher

Hal sat down. There was a pause in the room, a cease-fire when we all took a moment to get our wits about us. I paced back and forth on my side of the table. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just a little upset.”

“Of course you are,” said Ms. Whittier.

“Maybe we can switch gears for a moment,” said the director of security. “Do you have any idea on the identity of the driver of that truck?”

Hal and I shook our heads.

“That’s fine. I just thought I’d ask.”

“We wanted to share what we had and provide you with as much transparency as we could,” said the legal representative.

“Is there any footage from inside the room?” I asked.

“Unfortunately not,” said the director of security.

“We can’t put cameras in the rooms,” said the facilities manager.

“Patient privacy,” said the legal representative.

We sat stupefied as the VCR stopped rewinding, ejected the tape, and switched off. The noise of the machine was a reminder of our being humans, imperfect and powerless. The experts in the room were saying words, nodding in somber agreement. In our experience. Events of this nature. Protocol. Next steps. Our best information. Hal kept his head down and his hands folded as if in prayer. I had one thing on my mind: I had to get this video, and the credit card information, to Raymond. Now.

Thirty-Five

Digger

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 8, 2002

Evening

When I took the kid, she was sound asleep in her car seat, and Cally was sawing logs on the bed. I loaded the supplies into the truck, but trying to get that damn carrier into the fucking base was a shit show. While I was dicking around with the latch, the baby woke up and started wailing. I said screw it. I put the thing on the base unlatched, with a seat belt across to hold it. Good enough. How the hell people do that multiple times a day, I will never know.

I hauled ass down the hill and onto the main road. The little freak was screaming, and I tried everything. I slowed down for her. I sped up. I reached back and jiggled her. She kept bawling.

“Shut up!” I said. “Shut up!”

How did other people put up with howling babies? Women didn’t seem to mind it. Were they saints or deaf? I cranked up the radio to drown out the noise. This was going to be a painful half hour to Deena’s house.

My sister’s farm was just east of Superior, and I got up there about once a year. Usually during hunting season. Tonight the roads were okay, but I put it in four-wheel drive just in case. George Strait came on, and I tapped on the wheel as I kept an eye out for cops. On a Sunday evening, I thought I’d be fine, but Wisconsin police were pricks.