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My Sister's Keeper Page 32
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He looks up at me, piercing. "What are you going to tell DeSalvo?"
"Are you asking because of Anna, or because you're afraid of losing this trial?"
"Thanks, but I gave my conscience up for Lent."
"Aren't you going to ask yourself why a thirteen-year-old girl's gotten under your skin?"
He grimaces. "Why don't you just butt out, Julia, and ruin my case like you were planning to do in the first place?"
"This isn't your case, it's Anna's. Although I can certainly see why you'd think otherwise."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're cowards. You're both hell-bent on running away from yourself," I say. "I know what consequences Anna's afraid of. What about you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"No? Where's the one-liner? Or is it too hard to joke about something that hits so close to the bone? You back away every time someone gets close to you. It's okay if Anna's just a client, but the minute she becomes someone you care about, you're in trouble. Me, well, a quick fuck's just fine, but making an emotional attachment, that's out of the question. The only relationship you have is with your dog, and even that's some enormous State secret."
"You are way out of line, Julia--"
"No, actually, I'm probably the only person who's qualified to let you know exactly what a jerk you are. But that's okay, right? Because if everyone thinks you're a jerk, no one will bother getting too close." I stare at him a beat longer. "It's disappointing to know that someone can see right through you, isn't it, Campbell."
He gets up, stone-faced. "I have a case to try."
"You do that," I say. "Just make sure you separate justice from the client who needs it. Otherwise, God forbid, you may actually find out that you have a working heart."
I walk off before I can embarrass myself any further, and hear Campbell's voice reach out to me. "Julia. It's not true."
I close my eyes, and against my better judgment, turn around.
He hesitates. "The dog. I--"
But whatever he is about to admit is interrupted by Vern's appearance in the doorway. "Judge DeSalvo's on the warpath," he interrupts. "You're late, and the mini-mart was sold out of coffee milk."
I meet Campbell's gaze. I wait for him to finish his sentence. "You're my next witness," he says evenly, and the moment is gone before I can even remember it existed.
CAMPBELL
IT'S GETTING HARDER AND HARDER to be a bastard.
By the time I get into the courtroom, my hands are trembling. Part of it, of course, is the same old same old. But part of it involves the fact that my client is about as responsive as a boulder beside me; and the woman I'm crazy about is the one I am about to put on the witness stand. I glance once at Julia as the judge enters; she makes a point of looking away.
My pen rolls off the table. "Anna, can you get that for me?"
"I don't know. I'd be wasting time and manpower, wouldn't I?" she says, and the goddamn pen stays on the floor.
"Are you ready to call your next witness, Mr. Alexander?" Judge DeSalvo asks, but before I can even say Julia's name Sara Fitzgerald asks to approach the bench.
I gear up for yet another complication, and sure enough, opposing counsel doesn't disappoint. "The psychiatrist that I've asked to call as a witness has an appointment at the hospital this afternoon. Would it be all right with the Court if we took her testimony out of order?"
"Mr. Alexander?"
I shrug. It's just a stay of execution for me, when you get right down to it. So I sit down beside Anna and watch a small, dark woman with a bun twisted ten degrees too tight for her face take the stand. "Please state your name and address for the record," Sara begins.
"Dr. Beata Neaux," the psychiatrist says. "1250 Orrick Way, Woonsocket."
Dr. No. I look around the courtroom, but apparently I'm the only James Bond fan. I take out a legal pad and write a note to Anna: If she married Dr. Chance, she'd be Dr. Neaux-Chance.
A smile twitches at the corner of Anna's mouth. She picks up the pen that dropped and writes back: If she got a divorce and then married Mr. Buster, she'd be Dr. Neaux-Chance-Buster.
We both start to laugh, and Judge DeSalvo clears his throat and looks at us. "Sorry, Your Honor," I say.
Anna passes me another note: I'm still mad at you.
Sara walks toward her witness. "Can you tell us, Doctor, the nature of your practice?"
"I'm a child psychiatrist."
"How did you first meet my children?"
Dr. Neaux glances at Anna. "About seven years ago, you brought in your son, Jesse, because of some behavioral problems. Since then I've met with all the children, over various occasions, to talk about different issues that have come up."
"Doctor, I called you last week and asked you to prepare a report giving your expert opinion about psychological harm Anna might suffer if her sister dies."
"Yes. In fact, I did a little research. There was a similar case in Maryland in which a girl was asked to be a donor for her twin. The psychiatrist who examined the twins found they had such a strong identification with each other that if the expected successful results were achieved, it would be of immense benefit to the donor." She looks at Anna. "In my opinion, you're looking at a very similar set of circumstances here. Anna and Kate are very close, and not just genetically. They live together. They hang out together. They have literally spent their entire lives together. If Anna donates a kidney that saves her sister's life, it's a tremendous gift--and not just to Kate. Because Anna herself will continue to be part of the intact family by which she defines herself, rather than a family that's lost one of its members."
This is such a load of psychobabble bullshit I can barely see to swim through it, but to my shock, the judge seems to be taking this with great sincerity. Julia, too, has her head tilted and a tiny frown line between her brows. Am I the only person in the room with a functioning brain?
"Moreover," Dr. Neaux continues, "there are several studies that indicate children who serve as donors have higher self-esteem, and feel more important within the family structure. They consider themselves superheroes, because they can do the one thing no one else can."
That's the most off-the-mark description of Anna Fitzgerald I have ever heard.
"Do you think that Anna is capable of making her own medical decisions?" Sara asks.
"Absolutely not."
Big surprise.
"Whatever decision she makes is going to have overtones for this entire family," Dr. Neaux says. "She's going to be thinking of that while making her decision, and therefore, it will never truly be independent. Plus, she's only thirteen years old. Develop-mentally her brain isn't wired yet to look that far ahead, so any decision will be made based on her immediate future, rather than the long term."
"Dr. Neaux," the judge interrupts, "what would you recommend, in this case?"
"Anna needs the guidance of someone with more life experience . . . someone who has her best interests in mind. I'm happy to work with the family, but the parents need to be the parents, here--because the children can't be."
When Sara turns the witness over to me, I go in for the kill. "You're asking us to believe that donating a kidney will net Anna all these fabulous psychological perks."
"That's correct," Dr. Neaux says.
"Doesn't it stand to reason, then, that if she donates that same kidney--and her sister dies as a result of the operation--then Anna will suffer significant psychological trauma?"
"I believe her parents will help her reason through that."
"What about the fact that Anna's saying she doesn't want to be a donor anymore," I point out. "Isn't that important?"
"Absolutely. But like I said, Anna's current state of mind is driven by the short-term consequences. She doesn't understand how this decision is really going to play out."
"Who does?" I ask. "Mrs. Fitzgerald may not be thirteen, but she lives each day waiting for the other shoe to drop in terms of Kate's health, do