Chapter 2
“I need to see Mary, Dad,” Mason said suddenly, in a somewhat calmer tone. “I need to talk to her. To discuss the baby, you know. Can you arrange it for me, Dad?”
CC seemed to be questioning his son’s sanity. Julia shrugged her shoulders.
“Can you, Dad? I need to talk to my wife. They wouldn’t let me.”
CC cleared his throat.
“Mason… I will have them let you in. You will see her. Only she’s gone, son. She can’t discuss things with you.”
“Okay,” conceded Mason. “Please do.”
CC looked at Julia, silently begging her not to leave Mason alone. She nodded, and CC walked out.
Mason shut his eyes and sat like this for a while, his face an immobile mask of sorrow. Julia saw a lone tear escape from under his lid.
Then he opened his eyes and acknowledged her presence.
“Julia.”
“I’m sorry, Mason,” she mumbled.
He shook his head but said nothing.
A doctor entered the hall. “Mr. Capwell,” he said with anxiety. “The baby’s very frail – I’m afraid we cannot be sure--”
Mason did not stand up.
“Ok. I’m sure you’ll do all you can.”
“Mr. Capwell--”
“Maybe it’s his mother wants him, huh?” said Mason turning to Julia. “She knows he cannot be safe in this world.”
“You may come in here and see your son,” the doctor said, slightly at a loss.
“Why?”
“Why?”
“I mean what for?”
“We can lose him, Mr. Capwell,” the doctor said bluntly. “We cannot guarantee he will live.”
“Of course,” said Mason. “I cannot say I want to live, either.”
The doctor gave Julia a strange look, hesitated a moment and then walked back. Julia approached gingerly and sat next to Mason.
“I want to see Mary,” he explained. “Where the hell is Dad?”
Julia touched his sleeve.
“Mason,” she said with urgency. “Mary is dead. You understand? You can see her, and you will, but it’s but a lifeless shell. Her baby is alive. YOUR baby. Mary cannot be saved. It’s over. It’s final. The baby, he can be saved. He needs his father, Mason.”
Mason did not move.
She tried again, “It’s the only thing – the only link to Mary you have now. You created him together, you and Mary…”
“I don’t know that.”
Julia gaped. “Why, Mason--”
Mason raised his eyes to the ceiling in an obvious attempt to stop tears.
“It can be Mark’s,” he said. “And God knows how much I prayed, all these nine long months, that it be mine – well, it’s nothing compared to how desperately I am praying now for it to be Mark’s.”
According to the official version Julia (and everybody else) had bought, Mary had been violated by Mark when she was already pregnant with Mason’s baby. Mark was convicted, not without Julia’s help. She was his attorney and dumped him deliberately; she was so appalled at what he had done to Mary.
“No,” was all she could say now.
Mason’s lips twisted.
“Yes,” he said. “Mark made her suffer, not me. It must be Mark’s baby that killed her, not mine. Huh? And it was not enough for him to just take her life. She was in pain, in so much pain, for so long, you can’t imagine.”
“It’s an innocent baby, for God’s sake, Mason,” argued Julia. “It’s not his fault.”
“Then whose fault is it? Let Mary collect him. It’ll be better for all of us.”
Julia could not believe her ears.
“Mason,” she heard herself say, “You can’t be as cruel as this!!”
It only fueled his passion. He sprang up to his feet.
“Cruel?! And can God be as cruel, can he? To take away the only one I ever loved – the only one who ever loved me – to terminate her life like this – to terminate mine – to make me create her murderer and then, after he’s done what he’s done, for me to go and love him?”
Julia was choking. It was no easy matter, dealing with his all-consuming grief. “He’s a baby. Can die any minute. Mary loved her baby, Mason, did she love her baby?”
Mason turned to Julia, dumb.
“She did. And now this tiny one, who has seen nothing in life yet, is slipping away, and Mary, she cannot help him, and you – you wouldn’t stir a finger to help save Mary’s baby? The only thing left from her in this world? The one she loved more than life?”
Mason shuddered. “I can’t – I can’t –”
“You can,” Julia said firmly. “You can. And you must.”

*
Julia accompanied Mason to the maternity ward and left him with the same doctor. She stepped back then – she had interfered more than enough. She only wished she could be more optimistic about the prospect.
“You can see him, Mr. Capwell,” the doctor said again. “You cannot hold him, though.”
“Talk to him,” an elderly nurse prompted. “You must have talked to him when he was in the mommy’s belly, did you?”
Mason nodded absent-mindedly.
“So talk to him now, he will hear your voice. He’ll recognize daddy’s voice and calm down. He’s so scared, honey bunny, he’s scared and he’s in pain.”
At this Mason gave a start.
“Are you a relative, Miss?” Julia heard.
“No, I--” she hurried to the exit.
Julia paced to and fro outside the section until finally she found a spot she could see Mason from. She could not see the little transparent cell where the baby must have been lying but she knew the kind, and she knew the baby was very small, withered and unhappy.
Mason was looking down, and the expression on his face could best be described as one of pure horror. But well – Julia had never known him to be at a loss for words before, - so, soon he started speaking. His gaze was fixed, and he was talking, and talking, and talking. Julia wished she could hear him. Was he lashing out at the baby, poisoning him with his grief? or was he trying to work things out with his – Julia hesitated – with his son?
Julia watched his face closely. Bitterness, yes; despair, yes; anguish, for sure; but there was something else about his eyes that somehow she got the idea Mason was trying to be kind to the little one.
She waited for Mason patiently, and the moment CC appeared in the hall, Mason walked out, staggering.
“Where the hell—” CC started, raging at Julia.
“Dad,” Mason interrupted. “Let’s go, I must see Mary. And then I need a drink. It’s an emergency.”
The Capwells left, without giving Julia another word or glance.

/Olga Lissenkova/

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