was going to have an abortion and that he wanted to stop her.
“There’s not much you can do, my friend,” said Mr.
Redford. “According to the Supreme Court, a husband cannot block his wife’s abortion.”
“That’s incredible,” said Adam. “It’s my child, too. Isn’t there anything you can do?”
“Well, I might be able to delay it.”
“Do it!” shouted Adam. “Whatever you can!”
“Give me her name and all the particulars,” said Mr.
Redford.
Adam did so as quickly as he could.
“When is she scheduled to have the abortion?” asked Mr.
Redford.
“In thirty minutes or so,” said Adam desperately.
“Thirty minutes! What do you expect me to do in half an hour?”
“I’ve got to go,” said Adam. “She’s at the Julian Clinic.
There’s no time to lose.”
Adam dropped the phone and ran through the terminal to the taxi stand. Leaping into the first cab in line, he yelled for the driver to take him to the Julian Clinic.
“You got money?” the cabbie asked, eyeing Adam’s casual dress.
Adam pulled out his twenty, hoping it would be enough.
Satisfied, the man put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.
• • •
Jennifer was lying on a gurney just outside the treatment room. Her mother was standing beside her, and Jennifer was again forcibly reminded of her earlier visit to the Julian with Cheryl. Mrs. Carson was smiling, feigning confidence, but it was clear she was as nervous as her daughter.
“Why don’t you go back to the lounge?” suggested Jennifer.
“I’ll be fine. From what Dr. Vandermer says, it’s going to be easy.”
Mrs. Carson glanced at her daughter, undecided as to what she should do.
“Please,” said Jennifer. “Don’t make a big deal out of this. Go back and read a magazine.”
Relenting, Mrs. Carson bent down, kissed Jennifer on her forehead, and headed back toward the lounge. Jennifer watched her go with mixed emotions.
“OK,” said the nurse, emerging from the treatment room.
“We’re all ready for you.” She released the brake on the gurney and pushed Jennifer through the door. In contrast to the room where she’d had her amniocentesis, this room looked very much like an OR. Jennifer remembered the white floor and large white glass-fronted cabinets.
Two nurses were waiting. As they moved her to the table, one said, “It will all be over very soon, and you’ll be able to forget the whole episode.”
As she lay back, Jennifer thought she felt the child move.
She struggled not to cry as one of the nurses prepped her lower abdomen.
The door to the corridor opened, and Dr. Vandermer came in, dressed in a surgical scrub suit. Jennifer felt better the moment she saw him.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“OK, I guess,” said Jennifer faintly.
Jennifer wanted him to say something else, but he just stared at her with unblinking eyes. She looked questioningly at the nurses, but they didn’t seem to think there was anything odd about his silence. Then Vandermer seemed to come out of his trance and asked the nurses to hand him the anesthetic.
“You’ll just feel a little sting now,” said Dr. Vandermer flatly. With a deft jab he slipped the needle beneath Jennifer’s skin.
Closing her eyes, Jennifer tried also to close her mind to what was about to happen.
• • •
The cab ride from Kennedy Airport to the Julian Clinic was hair-raising. Once Adam had flashed his twenty, the driver acted as if he were in a race for his life. He screeched to a halt in front of the hospital in less than thirty minutes.
Adam tossed him the twenty and dashed up the stairs without waiting for change.
Interrupting the girls chatting at the reception desk, he demanded to know where Vandermer was operating.
“He’s performing an abortion on my wife,” he gasped.
“Pregnancy terminations are done on the sixth floor, but .
. .”
Adam didn’t wait for her to finish. He ducked into an elevator just as the doors were closing, ignoring the receptionist who yelled after him that he was not allowed to go to six unaccompanied.
When the elevator stopped, Adam got out and made for the double doors at the end of the hall marked “Treatment Rooms.”
As he passed the nurses’ station, he noticed the elaborate antique furniture and wondered what the Julian was trying to prove.
One of the nurses yelled for him to stop, but Adam kept running. He went through the double doors and opened the first treatment room door. It was empty. He went on to the next. A nurse tried to bar his way, but he was able to look over her shoulder at the patient’s face. It wasn’t Jennifer.
Adam crossed the hall and tried another door.
“Exactly what do you think you are doing?” asked a nurse with a German accent.
Adam rudely shoved the woman aside. He saw Dr. Vandermer bending over the table. He was holding a hypodermic whose needle sparkled under the overhead light.
“Jennifer!” shouted Adam, relieved that the surgery had proceeded no further than her being given the local anesthetic. “Don’t do it, please. Don’t have the abortion.
Not without further tests.”
Jennifer started to sit up as two orderlies rushed through the door and pinned Adam’s arms behind his back. Adam saw that both men had the same unblinking stares as the stewards on the ship.
“OK, OK,” said Adam. “You’ve made your point. You’re stronger than I am. Now kindly let me go.”
“Adam Schonberg?” said Dr. Vandermer. Until he’d heard Adam’s voice, he’d thought they were dealing with a psychotic stranger. “What are you doing here? Jennifer just told me you were out of town.”
“Please don’t go ahead with the procedure. There’s something I must tell you.”
As if suddenly remembering the orderlies, Dr. Vandermer tapped the nearest on the shoulder and said, “I know this man. You can let go of him.” He undid his mask and let it fall on his chest.
The orderlies released Adam as the door to the corridor opened and a number of clinic staff members peered in to see what was happening.
“Everything is under control,” said Dr. Vandermer.
Addressing the orderlies, he said, “Why don’t you two wait outside.”
As soon as they left, he guided Adam to a small anteroom, promising Jennifer they would both be back in a minute.
As soon as the door was closed, Adam blurted out, “I managed to get on one of the Arolen cruises.”
Dr. Vandermer stared at him as if just noticing the jeans and St. Thomas tee shirt for the first time. If he knew what Adam was talking about, he gave no indication.
“I’m happy you got to go,” was all he said. “We can compare notes later. Right now I need to take care of your wife. Why don’t you go down to the lounge and wait for me? I won’t be long.”
“But you don’t understand,” said Adam. “The Arolen cruises are more than continuing education sessions. They’re a cover for an elaborate behavior-modification scheme.”
Dr. Vandermer debated what to do. Adam was obviously psychotic. Maybe he could persuade him to go over to Psychiatry, where someone with experience could help him.
Taking a step forward, Dr. Vandermer put his arm around Adam’s shoulder. “I think the person you should be
