Take My Hand(62)

“What do you mean by ‘exactly’?”

“Civil, this thing is bigger than the Montgomery clinic.”

“Of course it is,” I said. “The federal government funds it.”

Lou sat up straighter. We hadn’t talked since returning from Washington. I was afraid of what he was about to say, thinking we might have made a mistake by going there.

“There’s a doctor out in California who called me to say there are thousands of Hispanic women getting sterilized out there without their knowledge. There are incidents in North Carolina involving women going in for a Caesarian section and the doctor removing their uterus. Some have even been told by the doctor that if they don’t consent, the doctor won’t sign the forms authorizing their Medicaid. One doctor is doing it as soon as a woman delivers her third child. No consent whatsoever.”

“So it’s happening all over the country?”

“Poor Mexican women. Black women. One doctor in Georgia told a woman while she was in labor that he wouldn’t deliver the baby unless she signed the form!”

I rubbed my head. It was unfathomable. After learning about the Tuskegee experiment, I knew people were capable of all kinds of harm. But hearing this was like learning that evil people were everywhere. I put a hand to my chest.

“Sit down,” I heard him say, and I sank into the chair.

“They trying to kill us off, Lou?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“It’s like the Holocaust, what they did to your people in Europe, isn’t it? What you say your parents fled.”

“Not exactly. But it’s bad.”

Those words sat between us for a few moments. I had learned about the Holocaust at Tuskegee. I remember thinking that I could not believe they hadn’t taught us about it in high school. How could they leave something like that out? When we got to that unit in my college world history class, I’d sat in the library just staring into space. The horror of the events was overwhelming. I had not known white people had gone through something so tragic, and I remember walking around that weekend wondering if every white face I met was a Jewish face, a descendant of a survivor, or even a survivor themselves.

“Listen, we are still naming Erica and India in the lawsuit. But this time we’re going after the big fish—the federal government. The Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare. The Office of Economic Opportunity. We’re taking this case to the very top. When this is all over, the girls can sue for monetary damages. But first we’ve got to stop the government in its tracks.”

“You’re suing the federal government? Lou, you’re twenty-eight years old. What if presidential cabinet members are involved?”

“That’s the only way we’re going to stop this, Civil. We’ve got to go after the agency that oversaw the units.”

There had been two men sitting in a car outside Lou’s office building when I’d walked in a few moments earlier. It was after nine o’clock at night. I recognized the vehicle; those same two men had interviewed nearly every resident in Dixie Court. Now I was thinking it was possible that they weren’t reporters at all but government agents. I feared the agency might find some bogus reason to evict the family.

“What about Mrs. Seager? What about my girls . . .” Young people had been killed before. Those four little girls in that Birmingham church. Students registering people to vote. This case had the potential to bring out the ugly.

“If I get the injunctive relief I’m seeking, it will affect women and girls all over this country. Girls like India and Erica. The poor. The innocent. The exploited. We’ll protect them. This has turned out to be bigger than any of us expected.”

So I was going to have to communicate with the Williamses and help them understand what Lou was asking. He was right—this was big. But it would happen on the backs of my girls. On the backs of Mace and his mother. And I just didn’t know how much more the Williamses would be willing to sacrifice in the name of the common good. Mace wasn’t concerned about women in North Carolina or California. He was just trying to keep his job at the factory so his family could eat without depending on the federal government. The man had never even voted.

Lou picked up a pencil. I knew it was the signal for me to leave, but I wasn’t ready.

“What can I do?”

“Right now, just concentrate on keeping those girls away from reporters.”

He sounded irritated, and that, in turn, irritated me. I walked to the door. He had made this decision without me, and that left me feeling helpless. But who was I? I didn’t even have a job anymore.

“By the way, I heard Mrs. Seager resigned. Or was fired. I’m not sure.”

“You kidding me,” I said, stunned.

“There are a lot of people in this community who need those services. They could use your passion. And I’m sure you could use the job. Go back to the clinic, Civil.”

“I will never go back. I hate it there.” Mace had not been the only one duped by Mrs. Seager. I had believed in that woman, in the mission of the clinic. I had overheard her pressuring women to tie their tubes, and I had not intervened, believing at the time that it was the right thing to do. Babies born into poverty did not have as good a chance as babies born into families with more money. That’s what I believed. What a hypocrite I’d been. I’d had all the resources in the world, and I had still terminated my own pregnancy. Meanwhile, I’d thought I knew what was best for other women.