Chapter 24: April 4, 1987: Part I

He didn't sleep. I know he didn’t.

I slept in short bursts, often awoken by new sobs. He would gently rub my back to comfort me, but usually, I just sobbed harder.

The sun is barely above the horizon when I open my eyes again, and he strokes my cheek. "I really don't know what to say, Ra'Shelle."

"Me neither." I sigh and snuggle against him. "Yesterday morning, I contributed only happiness to the world. How did things go so wrong so quickly?"

"Kari seems nice."

"She does, doesn't she?" I take a deep breath. "The meeting with Tom went well. I'm going to do a little work for them during the summer, and I definitely have the internship all school year. We played chess; I won."

He smiles. "Of course you did."

"Their youngest kid is barely two, and they're giving us all their baby stuff, including a crib. Bottles, toys, clothes, everything."

"Rad."

"I'm so relieved… And then Kari started talking about how awesome it is to be a mom, and I became really emotional. She drove me back to the dorm, and you came home maybe five or ten minutes later."

"I'm sorry that your mom died."

"Me too, I guess. I mean, she was a heartless crackhead, but I'd hoped that having a grandkid might force her to change her priorities, ask for help. Maybe we'd eventually be able to spend time together."

I exhale loudly. "I don't know what I was thinking though. Of course this is how it ends."

I focus on him stroking my shoulder. "It's not so much the ending as the timing. My mom dies when I'm about to become one. That sucks."

"Yeah." He takes a breath. "So, is that why you cried all night, or is it because of what's-his-name?"

"Daly?"

"Yes, him."

"Fifty-fifty… He brought up some stuff that I try really hard to block out; I think he was seeking absolution, and the conversation didn't go well."

"Ra'Shelle, I think you should tell me that story."

"I don’t want you to…” I sigh. “It's not the kind of thing you’ll forget, Colin."

He shrugs. "I don't care. Maybe you've pushed it down all these years, but that visit yesterday triggered something, and suddenly it's back. You need to talk to someone, and I won’t judge. You’re safe here."

Silent, I stare into his eyes for several minutes. He continues to stroke my shoulder, but he doesn’t say anything else.

"God, Colin, I don't know. Are you sure you really want to hear this?"

"Yes."

I sigh and rub my face. "I guess maybe it was inevitable."

I take a deep breath. "As you know, my mother worked as a waitress, and she used her tips to buy whatever drugs were available; consequently, she rarely had enough money for rent, utilities, and food. So, she started using me to clear her debts. Primarily with Lassio, but other people too."

He’s giving me all of his attention. "Yes."

"And even though Lassio is primarily a slumlord, he owns other real estate and operates other ventures, and he makes enough money to hang with powerful-ish people. Not celebrities or royalty, but he donates to political campaigns, keeps friends on the police force, that sort of thing."

"Yes."

I rub my face. “Colin?”

"Keep going. You can do this."

I inhale deeply, slowly. "One of the people he makes friends with is Joe Stiedbeck."

"The former congressman?"

"Right. They met at a fundraiser or a charity event or something, and they hit it off."

"God,” he says. “Stiedbeck was a slimy, dirty guy."

"Birds of a feather and all that."

"Yeah."

"So, Stiedbeck has a son, Gabriel, who is constantly in trouble. He doesn’t have a record yet because he's a minor, but he's about to turn eighteen, and Stiedbeck worries Gabriel will destroy the family name."

"What kind of trouble?"

"Sexually harassing girls at school. Bullying. Dealing drugs. That sort of thing."

"Okay."

"So, Lassio offers him a solution,” I continue. “Lassio tells Stiedbeck that he can provide the kid with a permanent client, so he doesn't have to sell drugs to strangers, negating the risk of undercover cops."

"The permanent client is your mother?"

"You guessed it. So, they solved that problem, but Gabriel’s still constantly in trouble for harassment, indecent exposure, and pummeling a kid who tried to defend Kristi Cooper… That’s a long story.

“Anyway, Lassio says that he can provide the kid with a permanent outlet for his aggression. When he feels like losing his temper, he can just make an appointment with Lassio, and Lassio will take him somewhere where he can let out the rage. That he can be someone else's permanent client."

Colin's jaw tightens. "You."

I press my hand against his bicep. "I haven't reached the actual story yet. Are you sure you want me to keep going?"

He kisses my forehead. "Yes."

I take another deep breath. "So, in June 1978, my mother can't pay her rent, and Lassio decides this is the perfect opportunity to introduce us. Mama's already high, so what does she care, right? Lassio stays in my room to make sure I'll behave, but he relinquishes all the power, and Gabriel basically thinks I’m his eighteenth birthday present.

"When Gabriel’s done, they go to leave, and my stoned mother off-handedly says, 'I hope you used a rubber. She started the rag last month.' There's this long silence, and then Lassio charges back into my room and demands to know if it's true. I think I nodded, but things were pretty hazy at that point. He storms out, and that's the last I see of him for a couple of weeks."

I bite my lip. "It’s harder to tell from here, Colin. I mean that… that's just any page from my childhood, but…" I sigh.

His voice remains soft, calm. "You need to tell this, Ra'Shelle. And I need to hear it."

I exhale slowly. "I don't know all the details. I'm not sure who initiated the conversations or who had the connections, but somehow they approached Ronald Tillerman."

"That name doesn't sound familiar."

"He's a plastic surgeon a few towns over,” I say. “So, he's perfect for this. He's close, but not local. Plus, I assume, he was well-paid, and a favor for a congressman is good to have in his pocket."

Colin shakes his head. "Keep going."

"Gabriel comes over, sells Mama some crack. They wait until she's really high and then tell her that I need emergency surgery. Something about me running a fever, and it's probably appendicitis, and she believes them. They force me into the backseat of Lassio's car and drive me to Tillerman's office."

Colin raises his eyebrows. "No one questions two men bringing a child to a plastic surgeon's office?"

"They did it after hours,” I say. “Tillerman made sure none of the staff were there. Of course, that also meant that he didn't have any help. I wasn't in an actual operating room, and he didn't have an anesthesiologist or a nurse. It wasn't literally a 'back alley' surgery, but it didn’t scream of legitimacy or professionalism.

"He gives me enough drugs to sedate me, performs a tubal ligation, and gives me a bunch of pain meds when I wake up. They lay me down in the back seat and drive me home."

Colin leans his head back. "They sterilized an eleven-year-old?!"

"Colin, it was the 1970s. They were still sterilizing mental patients and minorities without their consent. Ever heard of Madrigal vs Quilligan? That’s the world you and I grew up in."

Colin rubs his forehead. "How is Daly connected to this?"

"I’m coming to that." I take a deep breath and sigh heavily. “So…”