Chapter 11                 Things get worse

I arrived home from Aspen late and hardly slept worrying about Tracy. Images of Jerry’s twisted face raced through my mind and my original dislike for him became intense hatred. I tossed and turned in my cold bed until morning arrived.

In contrast to my feelings the promise of spring was everywhere, snow banks were reduced to icy black heaps and puddles of melting snow, frozen overnight, waited to be liquefied by the morning sun. More snow would fall before spring arrived but people seemed optimistic and even smiled as they rushed along the sidewalks. I took a taxi to the hospital to avoid morning traffic on Bloor Street envying the people outside.

            Mrs. Baker waited at her desk and Dr. Bernard would arrive shortly. I asked her about Sylvia and was told that she was resting comfortably but in isolation because her immune system was very weak. No visitors were allowed until the procedure was complete and then only under restricted conditions. She instructed me to report to an operating room. I would be under a general anesthetic while they took nearly two litres of marrow and blood from my hipbones. It was supposed to be painless and feel like a bad bruise for a few days after. I grit my teeth and followed instructions.

            The procedure hurt more than a little as the needles were pushed into the bone and the pain seemed to go on all morning. When the extraction was finished they left me alone with time to think about the direction my life had taken. Too many things were going wrong and I wondered how to deal with it. I’m comfortable with enough money unless I lose it all due to the problem at work. Maybe I should just go away with Tracy and live happily ever after on a desert island. Pleasant images of the blue Caribbean and her long blond hair passed though my mind as the afternoon slowly dissolved into history. 

The nurse told me to get dressed. My contribution had been rushed to an adjacent OR for injection into Sylvia’s wasting body. They told me that she was responding well, so far, but I couldn’t see her.

An orderly wheeled me into the corridor to my worst nightmare. Under the harsh glare of corridor lights Carol, Karen and Bernice waited for me. I couldn’t escape. Carol spoke first. She was almost hysterical.

            “Why didn’t you tell me about my sister? I don’t know what to believe any more, Dad. You’ve made a mockery of everything.” A series of sobs and sniffles and then, “It’s not her I’m mad about, it’s you.”

            “I didn’t know they would be here today, Hilton,” Bernice said softly. “I’m sorry she had to learn about us this way.”

            Karen was the last to speak. She was angry. “You weren’t in Detroit, were you? You are despicable. I don’t know how I can ever trust you again.”

            “You’re a liar and a cheat,” added Carol. “You don’t have any thought for your family or your friends. Just yourself. What you want is just what you do. When are you going to grow up?”

            I didn’t know what to say. They were correct, I only think of myself and I have to change. Fantasies of a Caribbean island hide away dissolved before their onslaught. Bernice came to my help.

            “I’m sorry Carol, but what we did was long ago. Your father is showing concern for Sylvia and me. When she was born we agreed never to meet again. I know he would like to have shared in her life but couldn’t. I have as much responsibility as him but had to protect my family.”

            The orderly became impatient and I was ready to go. My body hurt and I didn’t want to listen to this.

            “It’s not you, it’s him. He did all this while my mother was dying and acted as if nothing was happening. Isn’t that right, Dad?”

            Karen was about to step in when Reverend Bigelow, the minister of the church Bernice and her family attended, appeared.

            “Excuse me folks, how is Sylvia, Bernice?”

            “We don’t know yet, they’ve just finished the procedure. Reverend, this is Hilton Christopher, his daughter Carol and friend Karen Semple.”

            “I’m glad I found you all here. I want you to know that Bernice has told me everything, in confidence. I hope we can keep it that way until her home situation is worked out.”

            He got my attention right away. “What is her home situation?”

            Bernice lowered her head and looked at the floor. She was quiet for several minutes and then spoke softly.

            “Paul has left me. He found out Sylvia was not his and just went away. I don’t know what’s going to happen. He doesn’t know about you. Reverend Bigelow is trying to get him to come home.”

            “See! See the mess you’ve made, Dad.”

            Reverend Bigelow intervened. “Today is for Sylvia, not for making each other feel bad. Let us say a prayer that the transplant will end her suffering. Sometime, soon, we’ll heal our differences and share our love with each other with God’s help.”

            His prayer was comforting but the arguing was too much for me. I felt very uncomfortable and wanted to go home. I turned to the orderly who still waited and signaled him to push me out. Karen noticed and took pity on me.

            “Come on Hilton. Carol and I’ll take you home. You must be feeling pretty bad.”

            “It’s okay. I can grab a taxi.” I didn’t want to ride in her car and let them berate me.

            “We won’t say anything more about it, I promise.”

            “Let’s go Dad. Bernice let us know how Sylvia does.”

            Bernice was happy to get away and visit Sylvia. “Yes, I’ll call as soon as we know something. Drive carefully. He needs to rest and should stay in the hospital.”

I spent the next two days at home. My butt hurt like hell and I was tired. The women had prepared supper and put me to bed with a Tylenol 3. I didn’t hear them leave. Karen called in the morning to see how I was feeling. She promised to call later.

There was no news from Tracy and she didn’t answer my calls. We had arrived at the airport just in time for her flight and my connections to Toronto. She left the car in the airport parking lot promising to call Mary Jo about it as soon as she got to LA. Tracy was paranoid about Susanne. I could understand her feelings to some extent but she seemed irrational. It couldn’t be that bad, could it? I called again and heard the same old message.

It was three days before the pain subsided and I could get around easily. I tried to keep busy at home and Karen came over twice to be sure I ate something. The doctor had told me the body replaces bone marrow in four weeks and I guessed my body was running on low. There was still no word from Tracy.

            When I got to the office my butt was felt much better. Jack Phillips waited in my office.  After asking how I felt he gave me the bad news.

“The customer hasn’t given us any relief. I don’t know why, we’ve done everything we can to solve this problem.”

            I thought about what he said. “It seems they want to make an example of us to their other suppliers. What are the damages to date?”

            “We’re still shipping and product quality is definitely six sigma. They’re claiming six million in back charges for the recall. They say they’ll sue if we don’t pay. I told them to name the Chinese supplier in the suit. They thought that was funny. They know there is no way they’ll get anything from them.”

            “Six million eh? We could give them the keys to this place and still owe them our pensions. It’s ridiculous but it’s early since no papers have been served. Maybe it’s all a bluff. Let’s keep going and fill their order to the best of our ability. I guess we’re losing money on each part we ship?”

            “No, we’ve improved productivity enough to break even at the contract price. The guys in the shop have been great.”

            I was really lucky to have people who took the initiative and ran the place as if it were their own. Jack and I walked out to the production floor and I took the opportunity to thank everyone for their efforts and tell that we’ll be okay. I really wasn’t sure about that but what else could I say.

Bernice called about mid morning. Sylvia seemed to be responding to the treatment but it would be another week before they were sure that it would be successful. Paul hadn’t come home yet. She was worried that he had gone with another woman. He’d been acting strangely for quite awhile but she didn’t know about anyone else. Reverend Bigelow had talked to him last night but he didn’t tell her what was said.

            Adding to this bad news was the fact that I hadn’t been able to contact Tracy. She didn’t answer her phone and hadn’t called as she promised. My spirits were very low after all that had happened and I had to do something. I found Mary Jo’s phone number in Aspen. Three rings later a man’s voice answered.

            “Hello, this is the Barrett residence. Who’s calling?”

            “It’s Hilton Christopher, can I speak to Mary Jo please.”

            “No, I’m sorry. What’s it about.”

            “Who are you?”

            “I’m Sergeant Tollery of the Colorado State Police. What did you say your name is?”

            What the hell was going on? “I’m Hilton Christopher, a friend of Mary Jo’s daughter Tracy. I want to know if she has heard from Tracy.”

            “You’re the guy who was here last week then.”

            “Yes, I was there last week. What’s going on?”

            “I’m sorry to tell you that Mary Jo Barrett is deceased. Her body was discovered this morning in her condo.”

            “Oh, my god. What happened?”

            “We’re conducting an investigation. We want you to come to the station and make a statement.”

            “I can’t come. I’m in Toronto.” I was worried. Was this connected to the danger Tracy talked about? “Did she have a heart attack?”

            “No, there appears to be trauma.”

            This was worse. “What kind of trauma? Have you told Tracy? She went to LA in a big hurry after her mother called about Susanne.”

            “Who is Susanne?”

            “She’s Tracy’s friend from LA. We were together last week skiing. I understand some people from LA came to Aspen and took her with them. Tracy was very upset and flew back to LA on the next flight. I’m worried about Tracy.  Have you talked to her?”

            “No, we haven’t reached her yet. You’d better come to Aspen soon and tell us what you know, Mr. Christopher.”

            I hung up without saying more. I was really frightened now. I certainly didn’t want to get involved with the police in Aspen. Tracy had to be in LA and going to Aspen wouldn’t help. I had to do something. What?

Chapter 12

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