The Castaway Hotel
Book 6

By: B W
(© 2012 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 24
Digging Into the Past. 

The next day, the private investigator called to tell us he had located one of the two men we were looking for.  It happened to be the pimp/drug dealer and he was currently serving a 20-year to life conviction for dealing drugs.  I wasn’t surprised to learn this, but I suspected he might already be dead by now.  I figured he could have been killed by a rival drug dealer, died from an overdose or contracted AIDS from a drug needle or one of his pros.  Fortunately, this was not the case. 

Even though it was encouraging to discover he was alive, I now had the unenviable task of trying to convince him to do the right thing.  I wasn’t even sure he’d even know what doing the right thing was, even if it jumped up and bite him in the ass, but I had to get him to agree to be tested.  It was imperative to determine if he was a genetic match to Cody.  However, until I was positive he was Cody’s father and was willing to help his son, I was not going to tell Cody that we had located him. 

After thanking the P.I. for his diligent work, I contacted Steve, to see if he could arrange for the two of us to visit this guy in prison.  I wanted Steve to join me for two reasons.  First, I knew a lawyer would be able to get access to a prisoner more quickly than I could, and second, I wanted him there to advise me of any legal ramifications of anything I might do or offer this guy, to get him to cooperate. 

Of course, Steve was more than willing to help and I suddenly felt better knowing I could rely on his company and counsel.  He even offered to set this up for me, so shortly after I spoke with him; Steve called the prison and arranged a time for us to visit.  He merely explained he had legal issues he needed to discuss with the prisoner, while knowing he couldn’t be pressed for details about an attorney-client meeting.  It didn’t take long to receive our approval for this meeting and it would happen the following day, after we were tested to see if any of us were an acceptable match to Cody. 

All night long, I mentally rehearsed what I was going to say, since I figured I’d only have one shot at gaining his cooperation.  After carefully evaluating my options, I chose the approach I was going to use.  I speculated it would be highly unlikely he would agree to be tested, unless we offered him some sort of incentive, especially since I knew his background. 

As it became clear as to how I was going to deal with this man, I also tried to picture what he might look like.  At first I thought he might be one of those dandy-type pimps, who likes to dress in expensive and outlandish styles of clothing, like you might see on one those police shows on television.  Then I added in the fact that he also dealt drugs, so I began to envision him as a hardcore gang member.  I now saw him as being rough, unyielding and totally uncooperative.  I knew he was probably also going to be a tough nut to crack, which made me even more grateful Steve was going to be there too, so I wouldn’t have to face him alone.

The following morning, Jake and I loaded everyone into the vehicles and drove to the hospital.  When we arrived, the staff in the lab looked at us skeptically.  I think they were surprised at how young some of the boys were.  This could be due to the fact that they were used to the requirement that registry donors had to be between 18 and 60 years of age. 

I must give them credit, however, as the lab was prepared for this large group to come in for testing and they proved to be quite efficient.  As I talked to the young man working with me, he admitted they had expected members of a community organization, such as the Lion’s club or the Kiwanis, or possibly even employees from the same business, but not this.  He stated they certainly weren’t anticipating a family, especially one that included so many young members. 

While we were chatting, someone else called their supervisor and questioned testing children this young, but they were soon told the cells were for a family member and this had been okayed by the doctor.  Once that had was settled, I was quietly asked if any of the boys were biologically related.  I guessed they noticed the many differences.  When I confirmed they weren’t, I was informed the chances of finding an acceptable match were negligible.  I responded by saying I understood the percentages, but I still wanted everyone tested, since I didn’t want to lose a son and the boys didn’t want to lose a brother.  Once that was settled, the staff went about performing their duties. 

The first group of five, which included myself, was taken to separate areas, divided by curtains, where the blood would be drawn.  When that group was finished, the next set was led in, until everyone was tested. 

Although a couple of the boys reacted slightly to what was being done to them, no one fainted or asked for the technician to stop.  Before we left, I was told the boys did as well as most of the people they tested, so the staff figured we must all really love the person we were doing this for.  When I concurred with that statement, many of the staff members wished us, and Cody, the very best.

I thanked them for their kindness and efficiency and commented that the procedure had taken much less time than I had anticipated.  Even though we had been split up into three groups to donate, everything went smoothly and we would soon be able to go on with our daily routines.  Before we left, I was assured the hospital would rush the analysis portion of the matching process and the doctor would be informed if anyone were a match.  I thanked them once again and now we just had to wait until we got the results back.  Hopefully, we’d discover at least one of us was eligible to donate to Cody.

Once we got back home, I kept the Grand Am to take on the trip, and let one of my high school drivers take the van.  After I saw them off, I went to pick Steve up at his office.  On the ride to the prison, I explained to him the things I planned to do and say, to get his assessment and advice.  By the time we reached the prison parking lot, I was pretty sure how I was going to conduct this interview. 

Since this was my first time visiting a secure facility, I was a little amazed and intimidated by what we had to go through.  Steve told me later that the procedure we endured was much easier than the normal process mandated for those entering the prison.  This was because we were considered legal representatives, so our status made us exempt from certain searches and other procedures, such as body cavity searches.  Even so, we had to pass through two separate security stations, where armed guards watched our every move.  We were patted down and searched for weapons and other contraband, but other than that, nothing more evasive happened. 

Once the guards were satisfied we were clean, they escorted us through a series of barred doorways.  We had to be buzzed through each one of these separately, in order to gain access to the areas beyond.  When we reached our final destination, we were then escorted into a locked room, where we would be able to sit and talk with the prisoner.  We had to wait for a couple of minutes before he was led in to the room and he didn’t look pleased about seeing us.  He was restrained, by use of handcuffs and shackles, with a chain connecting the two items.  This was done for our protection and a standard way of dealing with those inmates classified as potentially dangerous.

“Who the hell are you guys and what the fuck do you want with me?” he spat out, shortly after the guard closed the door behind him.

“My name is Steve Shay and I’m an attorney,” Steve began.  “This is my friend and associate, Josh Currie, and he is the reason we are here.  He has some questions he would like to ask you?”

“Well, whatever you want, I’m not going to help you,” he replied, venomously. 

“You might want to change your mind,” I countered, “as there might be something in it for you.”

“Then it’s going to cost you big time,” he replied smugly.  “I don’t give up nothin’ for free and I’m not cheap.”

“If you are cooperative,” I began, “I will make sure you are properly reimbursed.  If you are able to help me, I will see that money is added to your inmate account, but how much I add will depend on how well you cooperate.” 

I had done some research and discovered each inmate had such an account and they are one of their most valuable assets in prison.  Since prisoners are not allowed to have money on them, any funds they acquire, either from working various jobs at the prison or money given to them by family or friends, are recorded in their personal account, which is maintained by the prison.  The inmates can use this money to buy cigarettes, purchase certain snacks and drinks, or to secure a limited number of items from the prison run store.

“So, what is it you want?” he spat back. 

“Do you remember Marianne Reynolds?” I asked, looking him squarely in the eye. 

“Hey, man.  I haven’t seen that whore in years,” he immediately countered, as a look of concern spread across his face.

“We know that and she’s no longer alive,” I responded, “but she is part of the reason we’re here.”

“Man, if anything happened to that bitch, I had nothing to do with it,” he stated, defiantly.

“No one said you did,” I assured him.  “She died of natural causes.”

“Then why did you mention her and what does it have to do with me?” he wanted to know. 

“Did you ever have sex with her?” I followed.  Before he answered, he studied me for a minute, to see if he could determine what I was up to.

“Oh, shit, man!  Did that slut go and die of AIDS?” he nearly screamed.  “And now you’re here to tell me she might have passed that shit on to me, right?”  You could just see the anger in his gaze.

“Well, she did die of AIDS, but that’s not why we’re here,” I explained.  “She had a son and he’s been diagnosed with leukemia.  We would like you to take a DNA test, to see if you are the boy’s biological father.”

“What the fuck difference would that make?” he shot back.  “There is no way you can stick me with his bills, make me pay support or have him come live with me, so what the hell is up?”  He was now eyeing me suspiciously.

“No, that is not why we’re here either,” I told him, while trying to remain calm.  “All of his bills are covered and we don’t even want him to know you are his father, if that is the case.  However, if you do turn out to be his biological father, we are hoping you would also be willing to donate some blood and bone marrow, to help save his life.”

“Fuck, if the kid’s anything like me or his old lady, then he’s probably better off dead,” he quipped.  This comment caused my blood to boil and I totally lost it at that point.

“You selfish son-of-a-bitch,” I screamed at him.  “He happens to be a great kid and I’m planning on adopting him, once we clear up the paternity issue.  We were just hoping you might do the fatherly thing and help save him, if he is your son.” 

He thought for a moment, before he responded.  “Well, I guess if you are willing to put enough cash into my account, I might be willing to help the kid out,” he reasoned. 

“I assumed you’d say something like that eventually, so here’s the offer,” I countered.  “Listen carefully, because I’m only making it once and it’s non-negotiable.  If you don’t agree with my terms, then we’ll just go to the national donor registry, to find another match.”  I was trying to take away any thoughts he might have of trying to blackmail me into giving him more money. 

“I’ll give you $500, if you’ll take the DNA test and another $1,000, if you end up donating blood and bone-marrow cells to the boy,” I advised him.  “I’ll even double that to $2,000, if you also turn out to be his biological father. The extra thousand will be for your signing away any claim you might have to him.  Is that a deal?”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like much…” but I cut him off.

“I told you this was non-negotiable and a one-time offer,” I reminded him.  “It’s a take it or leave it proposition, so is your answer ‘yes’, or ‘no’?”

He eyed me suspiciously, like he knew I had him by the proverbial balls.  I realized he wanted to try to get more out of me, but he was afraid of losing what I’d already offered.  Finally, he relented. 

“Okay, it’s just a little blood and nothing I haven’t done before.”  I knew he meant being stuck with a needle, when he used to do drugs. 

“Fine.  We’ll arrange for a certified technician to come by and work with the prison doctor to take the DNA sample.  I’ll give the technician a check to leave for your account, once he has the genetic sample, and then I’ll contact you, to let you know if there will be any further transactions required.”

He merely nodded and Steve quickly wrote up an agreement for him to sign, stating what we had already agreed to.  He even had a guard step inside, to witness the signing, so it was all totally legal.  Once we had everything we’d agreed to in writing, we left the prison.  I can’t tell you how happy I was to be free of that constrictive environment. 

Once we were out of the prison, in the car and on our way home, Steve turned to me and spoke.

“You would have made one hell of a lawyer or contract negotiator,” he teased, before chuckling.  “I don’t know anyone who could have handled that situation any better.  You offered him the carrot, and before he had time to figure out how to get two, you threatened him with none.  Nicely played.”

“Well, I have represented the school district in contract negotiations before, but could you believe the attitude of that arrogant bastard.  Here we’ve got a kid’s life on the line and all he can think about is what he’s going to get out of the deal.”

“Well, that’s primarily the way he’s conducted his whole life,” Steve reminded me.  “It’s most likely also a contributing factor as to why he’s where he is today.”

“Yes, you’re probably right, but you don’t know how close I came to wanting to literally attack and beat the crap out of him.  I saw red and wanted to rip his balls off for making those disgusting comments.”

“I’m glad you kept your cool or I might have been coming here to visit you next.”  After saying this, he looked at me and burst out laughing.

“Very funny, but you probably would find that comical,” I countered, sarcastically. 

“Not really,” he replied, looking serious, “because then I’d have to find a way to take care of all my nephews.  I’m glad you’ve put them first in your priorities, before you attacked that piece of shit.”

“Well, actually the boys didn’t cross my mind at that point,” I admitted.  “The biggest reason I hesitated was because the guy was in chains.  I’ve always been an advocate of fair fights and that wouldn’t have been fair.”

“You’re right, because he’d probably have tried biting, kneeing or gouging your eyes out.  Hell, he might have even used the chains to strangle you, if a fight had started,” Steve pointed out.  “If he had been infected with the AIDS virus by Cody’s mother, then you would have been exposed to it too.”

“I guess I’d never considered that,” I admitted.  “It’s a good thing I have such high standards then.”  We both chuckled after I said this.

“Well, at least he agreed to the deal,” Steve said, after a few more moments of levity, “so now we’re halfway home.”

“Yes, but I truly hope that slime ball isn’t Cody’s father,” I emphasized.  “I don’t know if I’d be able to contain my contempt, if I had to tell Cody this is the case.”

“We should know the results of the test quite soon,” Steve informed me, “so you won’t have very long to contemplate how you’ll break the news to Cody, if this guy is his father.”

I knew Steve was right, so I began to think about how I would tell Cody, if this were truly the situation.  I think Steve knew what I was doing, so he didn’t bother me the rest of the way, but I did notice him writing on a legal pad as I drove.  When I stopped to drop him off at his office, he told me he’d take care of getting the tech to the prison, so I could concentrate on Cody.  I thanked him and then turned my thoughts to the next problem. 

How was I going to deal with the other guy, once we located him?  Would he be as bad as the first guy or would he turn out to be a decent chap?  Would I have to threaten or cajole him, or would he offer to help, once he learned how important his cooperation was?  These thought continued to fill my mind as I drove back to my office.

The rest of the day and evening was pretty quiet for me, as I expected it would be.  I continued going over various scenarios in my mind, dealing with both potential fathers, but none of them turned out exactly as I hoped.  Something always seemed to go awry and Cody ended up the major loser each and every time. 

To be continued...

Posted: 11/09/12