Transplanted Life
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
 
It's a boy
They found Nat today, at a community hospital in Seattle with contractions only minutes apart when she got there. She gave birth to a healthy eight-pound baby boy at 2:46 PST (quarter of six here) and, I'm told by reliable sources, named him Martin, which is pretty cool.

My reliable sources are not, however, the FBI. I'm sure they'll be calling me soon, but it was her parents who were making the phone ring when I got home, asking why their daughter had instructed them to bring a lawyer to the hospital, why there was a guard posted outside her door, why someone flashing a Homeland Security badge was asking about some kind of laptop, why the FBI had been looking for her for the past two weeks, and why, for the love of God, was some girl in Boston whom they'd never heard of before the one Natalie had said could be trusted to tell the truth?

They had at first thought she had lost her mind, if only for naming their grandson after the man who abandoned her, thought after seeing my name they were even more confused - had their son-in-law to be had some kind of sex-change operation and moved back east? But my voice didn't sound anything like Martin's, and the FBI seemed completely uninterested in my whereabouts while still more determined than ever to find Martin, so we couldn't be one and the same, so what the hell was going on?

So, I asked Mister Tartakovsky how many ridiculous things they could believe, started telling them my life story, and was rewarded with them hanging up fairly early on. I had just started sitting down to write this when Nat's mother called back Evidently Mr. T screaming some of my nonsense at Khalil Jones loud enough to be overheard had gotten them to let Natalie hold her baby, so she wanted to know what other insane things I could tell them. Can't trade for "basic dignity" without having something the other side wants, even if it's silence, right?

So I spilled. I mean, what the hell, I'm not hiding who and what I am any more, and their lawyer had assured them that anything I might say to them about anything Nat had done was hearsay and nothing that could be used to make them incriminate their daughter. I don't think she believed a word of it, what with it being quite clearly insane and all. She'll probably sidle up to a Senator at some fundraiser or other and demand that the FBI and Homeland Security be taken to task for the way they're wasting their time and the taxpayers' money on this foolishness. But if it gives them leverage, fine and dandy.

I guess now I can call all my friends and announce that I'm a something-or-other, and so is Carter (though he'd be a different sort of something-or-other; an adopted biological father?). Exciting times.

-Martina
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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at JaySeaver@comcast.net