The Meadowlark Sings

by Helen Ruth Schwartz

  "That's incredible. Go on." Cara sat on the edge of her chair, fascinated with the story.

  "When Brian returned, he told the prime minister all that he knew about the woman who had treated him, including the fact that Barbra was assigned to the California homosexual embarkation program. She worked with Cali's health personnel and was responsible for assuring that the infants placed aboard the exodus ship, the Fantasia, were in good health prior to leaving the United States for the trip to Cali. Barbra conducted physical examinations of the children on Wednesdays and Sundays in the onboard clinic at the port in Pasadena, California." Jody paused to finish her second cup of coffee. "You can probably guess the rest."

  "The PM's days off were on Wednesdays and Sundays until a few weeks ago." Cara stood up and shook her head in disbelief. "That's an incredible story. Absolutely incredible." She turned to look around the restaurant and realized they were among the few people still seated. "Please finish."

  "That's the problem. There really is no finish. Two months ago, Barbra did not appear at the clinic. She has not been seen since. The

  Fantasia staff, sworn to priority secrecy by Ekstrom, have been trying to learn her whereabouts. It's rumored that she's been transferred to a job in New York City, but nobody knows for sure."

  "And that's where I come in." Walking up behind Jody, she placed her hands lightly on her shoulders. "Does the PM know that you're telling me this story?"

  "Ekstrom doesn't even know that I know. I heard it from Margo. The PM was afraid that something might happen to her in the United States so she told Margo the entire story several years ago. Margo told me right after your assignment was announced."

  Tenderly massaging Tody's neck, Cara waited a few moments before speaking. "Ah, some things never change. That muscle is still the barometer of your tension." Walking back to her seat, she sat down and leaned toward Jody, speaking in the soft hush of the conspirator. "I'll do what I can, but I don't know exactly what I can do. Let's leave it at 'I'll try.'"

  "That's all I'm asking," said Jody, taking a position that was the mirror image of Cara's. When they were almost nose-to-nose, Cara bent her head and gently kissed her on the lips.

  "You know something ..." she murmured as she pulled her head away. "At this moment, I really envy Margo."

  "Just remember, you had your chance," Jody said with a grin as she watched Cara signal the waiter for the check. Changing to a more-somber expression, she looked directly into the eyes of the woman across the table. "I really loved you. In some ways, I'll always love you. Whatever it is you're looking for, I hope you find it. And when you do, I hope it's everything you want it to be."

  "Sincerely said. Sincerely taken." Cara smiled.

  It was past midnight before the two friends left Topanga's.

  Four

  The weekend was a disappointment for Cara. She had not spent time at the home of her parents for several weeks and had actually looked forward to the visit. But the joy of a reunion was overshadowed by Sue's strong opposition to the New York trip.

  "She can't turn it down. It's an honor. Be reasonable," Donna kept saying.

  "She can turn it down. It's dangerous. The whole assignment should be cancelled. No one should have to go to New York."

  "I can't refuse to go," Cara intervened, punctuating each word with insistence. "So the two of you may as well stop arguing. I'm going. That's a definite. Tim Felmar is an excellent escort officer. Gary Kane-begins the briefing program tomorrow. Everything has been arranged. This is not an issue for debate, and that's not why I'm here. I'm here because I love you and wanted to spend some time with you before leaving." She wrapped both mothers in her arms and hugged them tightly.

  Still, the arguing continued.

  On Saturday afternoon, Cara got a break. Sue and Donna, laden with gifts, went off to visit friends whose first grandchild had arrived from the United States the week before. Cara, delighted to have the time alone, decided to spend the day at the lake that meandered in the valley behind the house.

  With picnic basket in hand, she made her way down the winding private path, now overgrown with shrubs, vines, and lack of use. But even five years later, since her last visit to this nurturing spot, the memories were poignant as familiar odors of childhood hovered lightly in the air. Although the dock was smaller than she remembered and partially shaded by trees that she couldn't remember at all, it was still her dock, still the first place she had kissed another woman, still the first place she had cried when she learned that Sue and Donna were not her biological mothers.

  Setting her basket down, she rejoiced in the beauty of the resplendent day. The sun in its zenith sent down streams of smog-free light, emblazoning the landscape with its warmth. Refreshing westerly breezes cooled it off.

  Cara removed her shoes and socks and sat on the dock with her feet dangling in the water. Making ripples with her toes, she watched the widening circles fan out to the opposite shore. Across the placid waters, she could hear the giggles of excitement from young Michael James as Jonathan, his new father, taught him how to fish. "When ya see the bobber go down, Mikey, ya gotta pull up real fast. That's the way ya gotta do it so ya don't lose the fish that's on the other end. Know what I mean, Mikey?" Cara heard the plunk of a bobber breaking the glistening flatness. Then minutes of silence. "That's it! That's it! Hey Beau! Beau! Mikey got a fish." Cara heard the voices fade into the distance and was pleased with the hush that descended.

  After eating the hastily made sandwich of tuna fish and sprouts, she spread the oversized beach towel on the dock and stretched out on her back, wondering how she had ever thought the plastic dock boards comfortable. How could she have possibly made love to anyone on this dock?

  Tuning her watch to soft music, she closed her eyes and listened to the wind as it agitated the leaves, rustling softly, and she thought about Jody and the previous night's dinner, a wonderful encounter. Without hurting each other they had wordlessly conveyed their feelings of mutual adoration while declaring their independence. As Cara read it, the evening had been a closure to their restless and unsatisfying relationship as lovers and the opening to their future, and, hopefully, harmonious relationship as friends. She was grateful for the transition. Because of her high position in government, good friends were a rare treasure. She needed friends. And now that the status of their relationship had been put in perspective and redefined, perhaps Cara could get on with the task of "falling in love."

  Her thoughts turned to the upcoming assignment. It was the most exciting of her blossoming career. And she knew that representing Cali in the United States would inflate her resume with the potential of even greater responsibilities. Although Cara was good at her job and displayed a comfortable amount of confidence for one so young, she had feared that her career path in human services would eliminate her as a choice for an'international appointment. Those assignments were normally reserved for political aspirants whose careers involved diplomatic relations. But she had gotten the nomination. All things are possible, she thought, as she turned on to her stomach, stretching languidly in the warmth of the sun. And, if all things are possible, I may be able to find Miriam Ekstrom's vanished lover. Hell, I may even be able to find my own lover.

  Awaking several hours later, she returned to the house in time to greet her returning mothers. An afternoon that began with greetings and smiles gradually turned to arguing once again, Sue steadfast in her determination to persuade Cara not to leave Cali. "I just know something bad is going to happen, and Felmar's black belt in judo is not going to protect you. In New York, a submachine gun would not be enough," she persisted.

  By Sunday morning, Cara decided to cut her visit short, preferring the solitude of her apartment and the company of her cat to the bickering of her mothers. Hugging the diminutive Sue tightly as she left, she said with conviction, "Trust me! Everything is going to be fine. Nothing bad is going to happen."

  "I'd feel better if you weren't so damn naive. You don't know anything abo
ut men," muttered Sue to herself as she walked back into the house.

  In the background, Donna shrugged her shoulders.

  Five

  Arriving early on Wednesday for the first day of briefings, Tim Felmar waited patiently. Never having met Cara Romero before, he wanted to impress her with his reliability. Although he had not been with the diplomatic corps when Brian Rayford was attacked eight years earlier, he realized that the failure of the escort officer to protect Brian had damaged the small organization, causing a loss of confidence. Tim wanted this trip to be perfect, and he wanted Cara to know it would be perfect before they ever left Cali. Her trust and faith were essential to their success.

  "You're gorgeous! A New Yorker will never believe.you're a lesbian, Ms. Romero." Tim smiled as Cara walked up and introduced herself.

  "Maybe I'll just tell them I'm a gay man," she quipped as they shook hands. "And please call me Cara." Very tall, dark curly hair, small dark penetrating eyes, broad shouldered, probably of Italian heritage, she had recognized him from the description as soon as she entered the room.

  "And a sense of humor too. This may be one of my better trips." He led her to a table to await the arrival of Gary Kane, the government's briefing officer. After a few minutes of polite conversation, they became silent, taking in the activities surrounding them in the cavernous hall that sat next to Cali's wharf.

  They were sitting in the enormous greeting area of the harbor's homosexual disembarkation section. It was an oversized room filled with rows of folding chairs reserved for the adoptive parents of children arriving from the United States. Although the Fantasia had just pulled in and the youngsters would not be brought ashore for several hours, anxious couples had already started gathering. They flowed in through the multiple sets of doors that had opened only one hour earlier. Some sat; others paced. They spoke in small groups, sharing their excitement. Laughter swept through the room in a domino pattern, illustrating the infectious joy that was spreading. This is a happy place, thought Cara. She wondered about those parents in the United States who had just surrendered their lesbian and gay children who had tested positive for the Scarpetti gene. What emotions must they be feeling?

  "This is one briefing I wouldn't have missed for the world," said Tim as he surveyed the festive scene. "My lover, Glen, and I have applied for parenthood. We hope to be sitting in this waiting room before 2055 is up."

  "I see you've already met." Gary Kane, looking very much the bureaucrat in his three-piece brown suit, shook the hands of both Cara and Tim. "I'm sorry I'm late. A last-minute meeting with the PM delayed me. Why don't we start the tour right away, then we can return to my office and begin the actual briefing." He turned to Cara. "I'm not quite sure why you wanted to observe the immigration program. Is there something special in which you're interested?"

  Yes, there was. She was interested in learning more about the last known workplace of Miriam Ekstrom's lover. "No, nothing special," she answered, trying to sound sincere. "I just think we should be familiar with the procedures that occur on board the Fantasia. I'm sure-it's an area of concern to Americans and I'd like to be able to answer any questions they may ask."

  In fact, Cara wasn't at all sure that there was any value in touring the ship. Inasmuch as Barbra was no longer affiliated with this aspect of the homosexual deportation program, the tour was probably a waste of time. But, then again, it might give her some inside knowledge that would be helpful in finding the vanished physician.

  "Well, okay. Let's begin." Gary turned and signaled them to follow. Exiting the noisy room, the threesome walked toward the gangplank that led aboard the Fantasia, the ship that brought America's homosexual children to Cali. Cara felt an elation surge through her body and shared an involuntary smile with Tim. "We were here once," she said softly.

  At the end of the gangplank stood Emily Wagner. One look at her face and it was evident that she had no desire to escort VIPs through her domain. Emily was a no-nonsense lady who, as the administrator of the Fantasia, was totally devoted to her job and the children. She had no lovers. No other interests. The Fantasia had been her life since its inception thirty-three years earlier. Visitors she regarded as intruders. Except for the prime minister. Emily adored Miriam Ekstrom, and because Ekstrom had interceded and asked permission for Cara's group to board the ship, she would try to be polite, a characteristic not normally attributed to her.

  After the obligatory exchange of greetings and introductions, Wagner led her visitors through the maze of corridors to the boardroom where, with the use of diagrams and wall maps, she explained the ship's organizational structure.

  The Fantasia, they learned, boarded in Pasadena, California, at 5:00 a.m. on Wednesday and Sunday for the ten mile voyage to Cali. Approximately 3,500 children up to the age of three years old arrived each day. Boarding was by government authorization only, each child having been registered for deportation by the hospital in which they tested positive for the Scarpetti gene. After registration, the infants were permitted to remain with their biological parents only until their third birthday. Forcible transfer to Cali occurred after that date. Once on board the Fantasia, they were divided into one of four holding areas. Section One was for newborns under six weeks. Two was for disabled children. Three was a miniature hospital for those suffering an acute illness or needing onboard medical attention. Section Four, the main area, housed children who did not fit into the other three categories. Adult emigrants—Scarpetti-gene positives born before 2022 who did not leave the United States during the great exodus— assisted staff members.

  "Why do we accept sick children?" asked Tim when Wagner had put down the pointer.

  "If we did not, some of these children would never get well. Their biological American mothers would keep them sick to avoid giving them up. You would do the same thing if it was your child." She turned her hack, indicating that she would not entertain any more questions and said simply, "Follow me," which they all did.

  As Gary pushed open the doors to Section Four, the largest section and the first to which they were escorted, Cara braced herself, expecting to be overwhelmed by the noise of children crying and screaming, but the room was eerily quiet.

  "Hypnotic tranquilizers," said Wagner, pointing to the ceiling. Looking up, they saw pale green diaphanous images floating by in slow rhythm to the haunting melody of a harpsichord. The images dipped and swayed, doing a ghostly minuet against the black background of the surrounding walls. "It's a special blend of sight and sound that has a sedative effect in combination with the rolling of the ship. Do not look; it can affect adults as well."

  Forcing her eyes from the magnetic attraction, Cara looked down the length of the ship. Row upon row of cheerfully painted cribs were being tended by hundreds of lavender-uniformed staff members. Infants and young children in pink or blue buntings were being hugged, held, caressed, massaged, fed, diapered. She was awed by the sight.

  "I've never seen so many children." Tim tiptoed up to a crib, reached in and with his large hands gently stroked the cheek of a gurgling infant. His smile broadened when the child gripped his index finger. "I could really get into this."

  "This room holds up to four thousand individual cribs. Crib assignments are made as soon as the children are brought aboard. The records of each child are then placed in the attached storage pouch." Reaching into the closest crib, she pulled out some official-looking documents. Scanning them, she reviewed the information aloud. "This two-year-old child was born to parents of average height and weight who were thirty-eight and thirty-three when the baby was delivered. The biological parents are of Jewish descent and were born in the USA. Three grandparents, ranging in age from sixty-nine to seventy-six, are still alive; the fourth died in an accident two years ago. Five great-grandparents are alive and in good health. They range in age from one hundred one to one hundred eight. Of the three who are deceased, two died in the 2018 earthquake and one died of heart disease at the age of eighty. The maternal great-grandmother
was diagnosed with diabetes at the age of ninety-one. The child has no known allergies, no distinguishing marks, and tested positive for the Scar-petti gene three weeks after birth."

  "I'm impressed." Cara reached into the adjoining crib and picked up a yawning baby, eyes scrunched shut, she judged to be under one year. "The records are really much more thorough than they were when I was brought to Cali." Broadly smiling, she held the baby to her chest and gently patted her on the back, waiting for Wagner to reprimand her. "Is this allowed?" she finally asked when no admonishment was forthcoming.

  "Yes. We encourage touching. We have no records of how much love these children received from their heterosexual parents." She reached into a bright yellow crib and ever so gently with precious care and a delicate touch, lifted a tiny boy with big blue eyes and porcupine black hair. Sweetly, she cooed, grinning as the child responded with gurgles and smiles. She kissed his pudgy cheeks and nuzzled his stomach with her nose. Giggling, he pulled her hair with his chubby fingers. She threw back her head and laughed with him, crooning softly as she did, "Ga, ga. Oooh, coo, coo, coo." Eyebrows raised, Tim and Cara exchanged bewildered looks, surprised at the tenderness being displayed by a woman they had labeled a scrooge. So much for her austere trappings, thought Tim. Carefully placing the baby back in the crib, she began walking to the far end of the room. "Follow me."

  As they walked down the aisle, the three visitors oohed and aahed, touched babies, and smiled at staff members who were quietly moving from one child to another. They stopped only once when Cara, thinking there had been a mistake, said with urgency, "There are two little girls in that crib."

  Wagner nodded to one of the female staff members who responded in a singsong voice normally reserved for infants. "Yes, that's deliberate. They are identical twins. The two little girls are siblings, sisters who were produced from one fertilized egg. We frequently get identical twins with both having the Scarpetti gene. That's not the case with fraternal twins. It's unusual for fraternal twins, derived from two separate eggs, to both have the Scarpetti gene. Sadly, this little boy in the next crib is one half of a set of twins. He has the Scarpetti gene.