Harm's Reach

by Alex Barclay

  ‘Can I ask,’ said Ren, ‘isn’t there a conflict between your religious views and your decision to use a surrogate?’

  He hesitated. ‘I don’t see it that way.’

  ‘I’m quoting here,’ said Ren, looking down at her notebook. ‘It’s from a speech given by the Pope. There is an “inseparable connection, willed by God, and unable to be broken by man on his own initiative, between the two meanings of the conjugal act: the unitive meaning and the procreative meaning”. IVF separates those two parts,’ said Ren, ‘so the Catholic Church is against it.’

  ‘If I was opposed to surrogacy,’ said Robert, ‘then I wouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place, which I clearly did.’

  ‘Maybe it was a decision you went on to regret,’ said Ren.

  Robert shook his head. ‘Not one bit. I respect life, all lives.’

  ‘So, in your mind, because your sperm wasn’t used in the surrogacy, you hadn’t been part of something that was against your religious beliefs?’ said Ren. ‘Is that it?’

  ‘I simply love my wife more than I love God,’ said Robert. ‘Yes, I’ve been Catholic all my life, but I didn’t know Ingrid all my life. When I met her, I saw the world a different way. She changed my life. And as time went on, I could see how clearly she wanted to be a mother, and what a good mother she would make.’

  ‘Did you not think that she wanted to be a mother to your baby, because she loved you,’ said Ren.

  ‘It would still have been my baby,’ said Robert. ‘I would still have considered it that way.’

  ‘Vasectomies are also against the Catholic Church’s teaching …’ said Ren.

  Robert Prince nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And that’s OK with you too,’ said Ren.

  Robert nodded. ‘Yes. Can you see that I may just be guilty of not agreeing with every single tenet of the Catholic Church?’

  Thereby guilty of being quite the hypocrite.

  ‘This was a private decision,’ said Robert. ‘This was not something that Ingrid or I would ever publicly discuss.’

  ‘So, it was all right to do this, if it was kept secret,’ said Ren.

  ‘I love my wife,’ said Robert. ‘I think anything I do that is borne out of love for her is the right thing to do.’

  What dark multitude could that cover?

  39

  ‘For goodness’ sake,’ said Robert, ‘I’m a moral man – obviously I meant anything in the realm of what is good and moral.’

  That tone of voice … the arrogance … the self-righteousness …

  Hit him. Now. ‘Mr Prince, I’d like to talk to you about the OCBLA,’ said Ren.

  Robert nodded. ‘What would you like to know?’

  ‘What your involvement is with them,’ said Ren.

  ‘I’ve been a member since 2002,’ said Robert. ‘Via charity work I had done post 9/11 to support the families of the firefighters, police, EMTs who lost loved ones in the attack. The OCBLA was pretty new, I met some of the members, I was impressed with what they were doing, I joined up.’ He paused, studying Ren’s reaction. ‘I acknowledge it’s an exclusive club of wealthy men – mainly men,’ said Robert, ‘but there’s nothing sinister about it.’

  Who said anything about sinister?

  ‘We support each other, various causes, we meet for dinner every now and then, we have guest speakers, authors, Church figures, politicians …’

  ‘When you failed in your leadership bid in 2005,’ said Ren, ‘did you feel it was because you weren’t married?’

  His eyes went wide. ‘No, I did not. That’s ludicrous.’

  ‘You lost out to a married man with children,’ said Ren. ‘Did you feel in 2010 that maybe not being seen as a family man could have been a problem?’

  ‘No,’ said Robert. ‘No. And I don’t appreciate this line of questioning, Agent Bryce.’

  ‘I have to ask,’ said Ren.

  ‘You’re wasting time,’ said Robert.

  ‘Did the OCBLA contribute to a settlement for the victims of two Catholic pedophile priests in Denver?’

  Robert paused. ‘Yes.’

  Ren waited.

  ‘I see by your face that that doesn’t impress you,’ said Robert. ‘You’re presuming that this is something negative, that this was about me supporting pedophiles or about me paying to make a problem go away.’ He leaned forward. ‘Not so, Agent Bryce.’

  Patronization rocks. Check later if that’s a word: patronization. I’m not convinced.

  ‘I’m not patroni …’ shit, ‘presuming anything,’ said Ren.

  ‘I contributed so that victims were compensated,’ said Robert. ‘The diocese didn’t have the funds to pay them. The priests are long dead, they are no longer a threat. I’m not supporting pedophiles, I’m supporting victims who otherwise either wouldn’t have received a dime or would not have seen the money in their lifetimes.’

  What do I do with that information?

  ‘It’s quite difficult to find one’s honorable deeds viewed in such an unfavorable light …’ said Robert.

  ‘Well, I like victims to be compensated too,’ said Ren. ‘In that, I like to bring their killer to justice.’

  ‘What are you trying to say?’ said Robert.

  ‘You’re presuming that this is something negative,’ said Ren.

  He stared at her. ‘This conversation has taken a juvenile turn.’

  Ren stared through him. ‘Do you think Laura Flynn might have felt betrayed if she had discovered that you had lied to her?’

  ‘I don’t know what Laura would have felt,’ said Robert, ‘I don’t quite know how the mind of a surrogate works. And I’m a man, I don’t expect ever to understand maternity and all that goes with it. I’m happy for that to remain an enigma. I was concerned for my wife and I was concerned for Laura, that they both had the very best.’ He paused. ‘I haven’t done very well …’

  Ren went back to her desk and called Janine to tell her about the interview.

  ‘Ugh,’ said Janine.

  ‘And his explanation about not wanting to be a father because he’s “so old” is ridiculous,’ said Ren. ‘One hundred and twenty is old in my book – not fifty-five.’

  ‘It’s weird, we’ve stumbled into this private world of Robert Prince and it seems perfectly normal to him, but it’s just … bizarre.’

  ‘Maybe Laura stumbled onto something private too …’ said Ren.

  ‘Is it the religious militancy or … the wealth …?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Ren. ‘All I know is it’s an alien world.’

  ‘Did you hear anything back about “worriedmom”?’ said Janine.

  ‘Let me check my mail,’ said Ren. ‘Yes, I have a response. Blah, blah, blah … Terry Ragland … will talk to you herself … situation two years ago with her son and Jesse Coombes … Coombes assaulted him. The mother is working shifts, she can talk tomorrow morning, seven a.m., Denver time.’

  ‘Intriguing,’ said Janine.

  ‘Early,’ said Ren. ‘Does she not realize Ben Rader is coming tonight? Does she not know how hot he is?’ She heard beeps on the line. ‘OK, gotta go – Robbie is calling me.’

  ‘Hey Ren,’ said Robbie, ‘I need a big favor. Can you get something in the bottom drawer of my desk?’

  ‘I can,’ said Ren.

  ‘I can’t get back just now and I left my iPad in there. I need it later.’

  ‘Sure. Do you need me to drop it by your place?’ That I haven’t been in for so long.

  ‘No, just keep it safe,’ said Robbie. ‘I’ll call by your place later to pick it up … if that’s OK?’

  ‘Of course it is. Will you stay for dinner?’ said Ren. ‘It’s just me and Ben.’

  ‘Oh, he’s back?’ said Robbie. ‘Great.’

  ‘Great,’ said Ren, ‘see you later.’

  Let’s see if we can’t all be friends …

  40

  Ben had arrived at Ren’s at six and she was there to meet him. She left him in the shower so sh
e could start dinner. He came down with his hair still wet, wrapped his arms around her and kissed the back of her neck. ‘I just want to make sure you’re OK after everything we talked about the last time,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want you to worry that I was freaking out while I was gone.’

  ‘No …’ said Ren, ‘I wasn’t worried at all.’

  He smiled. ‘OK. That’s good.’

  ‘I did a little research on the whole bipolar thing …’ he said.

  ‘Or the two halves of the bipolar thing …’ I am high-larious.

  He made the sound that people make when their attempt at serious conversation has been thwarted.

  ‘Seriously, though, I wouldn’t make a habit out of researching,’ said Ren.

  ‘It was very interesting …’ said Ben.

  Yes: if you’re feigning clinical objectivity and emotional detachment.

  ‘You can’t unknow some of the things, though,’ said Ren. ‘And not all of it will be me. Just so you know. Every bipolar person is a special kind of wonderful.’ She smiled. ‘Like, I will never buy a yacht. But that will be purely because I would not be able to secure the financing.’

  ‘Who knows what the future holds?’ said Ben.

  ‘But, please promise me,’ said Ren. ‘Promise me that you won’t get obsessed by it. Consider your research done.’

  ‘OK, I just have one question,’ said Ben. ‘And it’s because I did read a lot about this, like you said, and it does seem to be different from one person to the next … well, not different, but … it can be pretty bad …’

  This is going to be a shit show.

  ‘What do you want to know?’ said Ren.

  ‘What it’s like being manic,’ said Ben. ‘For you …’

  ‘Really?’ said Ren. Really?

  He nodded.

  Lie, lie. For the love of God, lie. Ren turned around to him. ‘OK … mania turns everything to magic, it turns everything you look at into a beautiful and wild eventual problem. It is a glorious thing. It is a psychological Midas touch. Everything is intoxicating.’ You look at a man and he is the most amazing man in the world. ‘You have to own the dress in the store window that has caught your eye. You have to own it right there.’ And if it’s whorish, even better. ‘Your head feels like it’s filled with air, a new kind of air and if everyone breathed it, it would make the world a better place.’ And when people around you are not breathing it, they seem really dull and unambitious. ‘You get so many ideas and they are good. You achieve a lot. You make links.’ Until everything starts to overwhelm you and you want it all to go away.

  Ben nodded. ‘OK …’

  ‘When it’s good, it’s very, very good and when it’s bad, it’s rotten …’ said Ren. Sometimes you know that the result of your behavior will be a disaster of some kind. And it doesn’t stop you. It is like being suddenly stupid. And the aftermath is like a slideshow. Like the end of The Hangover. But, it’s not about after-the-fact photographs: even at the time, everything is like a beautiful pop and flash. Imagine knowing that the outcome of doing something will be a disaster. But you only get a tiny window in which to capture that knowledge – it only sticks its head up for a moment. If you don’t grab it while you can … well … you’re fucked. Imagine a grenade coming your way. The pin is out. You only have seconds to run. You should run. Instead, before you know it, you reach out and catch it. Pccchhhhh …

  ‘Does that answer your question?’ said Ren.

  Ben frowned. ‘I guess so. What I read online was way worse. Phew.’

  Ugh.

  Ben wandered into the living room. Ren started to stir-fry strips of marinated chicken. She turned on the extractor fan.

  ‘Hey,’ said Ben, walking in with Robbie’s iPad. ‘When did you get this?’ He stopped walking.

  ‘I can’t hear you,’ Ren shouted. ‘The fan.’

  Ben didn’t reply. Ren turned around to him. ‘What?’ she said. She turned off the fan. ‘What is it?’

  Ben was swiping his fingers across the screen.

  ‘Hey,’ said Ren. ‘That’s Robbie’s. What are you doing?’

  ‘Em, realizing it’s not yours,’ said Ben. He looked up. ‘Unless you like Filthy Sluts Taking it Every Way or Cum Shots to Monster Tits or—’

  ‘I do …’ said Ren, ‘but that’s not the point …’

  Ren walked over as Ben kept going through screens.

  ‘What the—’ Ren’s eyes went wide. ‘What? Oh my God. This is wow … porn on a … well, Utah scale.’

  ‘He’s been working the choirboy thing well.’ Ben laughed.

  ‘Shut it down,’ said Ren. ‘He told me to take it from the office, because he knew I wouldn’t dream of turning it on. Jesus. He knew he could trust me.’

  ‘And he was right to trust you,’ said Ben. ‘You didn’t turn it on. It was me.’

  ‘Can’t unsee, can’t unsee,’ said Ren. ‘Can’t unknow, can’t unknow. OK – turn it off now. He could be here any moment.’

  ‘I’m turning it off, relax,’ said Ben.

  ‘Don’t tell me to relax,’ said Ren.

  ‘Woo.’

  ‘This is …’ said Ren, ‘Robbie’s … not like this.’

  Ben was laughing at her.

  ‘I’m serious,’ said Ren. ‘It’s not funny. You don’t know him. He can’t be cool with this. Like, religion-wise.’

  I knew it was more than his parents’ divorce.

  ‘He’s not himself,’ said Ren. ‘He’s been so strange with me over the past while. I thought it was because …’ he liked me and I rejected him, then I went out with someone else.

  ‘Because what?’ said Ben.

  Ren shrugged. ‘Just that I see less of him.’

  ‘Because of me?’ said Ben.

  ‘Just in general,’ said Ren. ‘But it makes sense … he was so weird a while back when I dissed the concept of sex addiction—’

  ‘Lack of self-awareness or boyfriend-awareness there,’ said Ben.

  Ren smiled. ‘I think this is a real problem for Robbie.’

  He goes to the bathroom in work a lot.

  He’s been late a lot too.

  ‘He hasn’t been to see his mother in so long,’ said Ren. ‘He probably can’t face her.’

  ‘He probably can’t recognize her because of the blindness …’ said Ben.

  Stop making fun of my Robbie. ‘I know it seems really funny,’ said Ren, ‘but I’m telling you this whole thing will be agonizing for him. He’s my friend, Ben. I care about him a lot.’

  The doorbell rang. Ben and Ren stared at each other.

  ‘He better not ask to use the bathroom,’ said Ben. He powered off the iPad, then glanced at it. ‘I’ll wipe this clean,’ he said, winking.

  ‘Rein it in, for the love of God,’ said Ren.

  ‘Don’t mention reins in front of him …’

  ‘Stop,’ hissed Ren as she walked to the door.

  ‘Hey,’ said Robbie, walking in, hugging her tight.

  No hard feelings.

  41

  The next morning, Ren tore herself away from the hot body of Ben Rader. She threw on a pair of shorts and a tank and went downstairs. She made a pot of coffee and sat at the dining-room table.

  She dialed Terry Ragland’s number. She’d clearly been waiting by the phone.

  ‘Before we start, I just want to say I’m really embarrassed by all this,’ said Terry. ‘I mean … writing posts like that. Hiding behind the … anonymity.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ said Ren. ‘I’d just like to hear what you have to say about Jesse Coombes. Your posts about him are the only time you use “worriedmom” as your username …’

  ‘I don’t know how much detail you want,’ said Terry. ‘I’ll just tell you the story as I see it. The agent in Dallas said you were a nice person, easy to talk to.’

  ‘Well, I hope you think so too,’ said Ren.

  ‘To give you the short version first,’ she said. ‘Jesse Coombes beat the crap out of my son, pulled down his
pants, took a photo on his cell phone and threatened to show it to everyone in school. And that’s not the weird part. That’s the most normal part of this whole story.’

  Okaaay.

  ‘It boils down to this friendship between Jesse Coombes and a boy called Dominic Fisher,’ said Terry. ‘They both started high school the same year, they were both bullied – Dominic because he was, well … dirt poor, rough around the edges. He was one of the inner-city kids bussed in to the high school. He was into all kinds … breaking into places, stealing, and he had a thing for cars – he’d been hotwiring since he was eleven. Jesse Coombes, on the other hand – bad enough that he was a child evangelist, now his father’s just been caught in a sex scandal. So when Dominic joined the school, Jesse and him struck up this friendship, they both loved cars, they were both outcasts. Apparently, Dominic taught him all he knew. Rumor has it, there were more than a few times that Dominic took the blame when they were caught, even though Jesse was the one acting out. Jesse had made his family a lot of money and his parents felt so guilty about everything, they gave him access to it, so this kind of dazzled Dominic and probably made him easy to manipulate. He didn’t have a problem being associated with this family that was in the middle of a scandal. He didn’t seem to care what Howard Coombes was up to. But the Coombes parents very much cared what Dominic Fisher was up to and how that could affect their son. Now to where it gets weird: the Coombes organized this big huge party in their house for Jesse’s fourteenth birthday. You know – too amazing for the kids not to accept the invitation, my own son included. The Coombes invited Dominic too, because it would have been obvious otherwise, but he didn’t stay long – he got ill and had to go home—’

  Was poisoned by daddy Coombes more likely …

  ‘I’m sure it was deliberate,’ said Terry. ‘The rest of the boys got to sleep over. My son came home on Sunday, went to bed, and woke me up in the middle of the night with stomach pains. He wouldn’t let me go near him. I’m a nurse – of course, I insisted. He was bruised all over. His body, though, not his face. He swore blind that he fell, that it was nothing. I told him I’d send the police to Jesse Coombes’ house if he wouldn’t tell me what happened. So he did. It still makes my skin crawl.’ She took in another deep breath.