By Pamala Johnson
Donna Adams burst into the Sheriff’s private office without knocking. A young officer followed close behind her.
“Something horrible has happened! You must come with me!” Donna urged the Sheriff.
The officer apologized between breaths, “Sheriff, I couldn’t stop her. She pushed past my desk. She wouldn’t stop.”
“That’s okay, Jim,” the Sheriff motioned for the officer to relax.
“Mam, please, sit down, take a deep breath. Tell me what happened?” the Sheriff stood up from his desk.
“I can’t sit down! Sheriff, come with me now!” Donna insisted.
“What’s the problem?” his voice lowered.
“I think I witnessed a murder at the funeral home!” Donna reached for her forehead. The room was spinning.
“Jim, get her some water and send a car over to the funeral home right away. Please sit down, Miss,” the Sheriff made his way to Donna’s side and escorted her to a brown leather chair which, faced his desk.
Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes, I just feel a little light headed. That’s all.”
“Here’s the water.” Donna jumped in her chair from the returning officer’s announcement.
Taking the paper cup from the officer, she placed it on the sheriff’s desk without drinking. Instead, she leaned towards the desk and read the calendar. It said October 9th, 2011. The date sent a shiver through her body, which the Sheriff noticed.
Returning to his chair behind a large mahogany desk, the Sheriff asked, “Can you please tell me your name and where you live?”
“My name is Donna Adams. I own the children’s daycare on 5th Street and live in the apartment behind it.”
“My wife speaks highly of your daycare, Ms. Adams. She says it is the finest in the area. How long have you been open?”
“About nine months.” Donna hugged herself, wishing the trembling would stop. The compliment did not calm her.
“My wife said you have been overseas?” He hoped the small talk would calm her.
“Yes, I went to the Philippines to work with needy children. It was my dream since college, but I finally sold everything and took a two year exploration of the world.”
“She said you brought all your personnel from the Philippines.”
“Yes, after two years some of the women with me were ready to return to the U.S. They were a lot like me, no family to speak of and a desire to care for children. So I invited them here to join my team. I picked a nice warm place and opened the daycare with the remainder of my savings.”
“We are happy you’re here, Ms. Adams. I imagine you noticed lots of things can change in two years?” the sheriff sighed.
“Two years! I swear, two days ago it was a different world,” she edged towards his desk.
“What do you mean, Ms. Adams?”
“I mean, I went to sleep two nights ago, thinking I lived in a decent civilized world! When I woke up, it had all changed.” Donna’s voice rose, with a special sort of shrillness only nerves could produce. She, nervously, glanced towards the door. She thought she heard it open.
Donna pulled a Kleenex from a black leather purse and wiped her tear stained face. Taking a deep breath, she explained, “It all started yesterday when one of my daycare children failed to show up.”
“Her name is Anna Marie. Her parents bring her every day at 7:30 a.m., like clockwork. She was one of my first students and in nine months they’ve never missed a day until yesterday….”
Donna tried to clear the lump in her throat.
The sheriff reached for a pencil, “Maybe the girl was sick.”
“I wondered that myself, so I tried calling her parents, but they didn’t answer. I knew something was wrong. She’s not like the other children.”
“Why is that?” asked the Sheriff.
“She reminds me of a china doll with her creamy complexion, curly brown hair and bright blue eyes,” Donna stopped to wipe her tears again.
“She sounds adorable.”
“She is, but there’s more,” Donna hesitated.
“Go ahead,” the sheriff sat back in his chair. He knew the woman had suffered some sort of trauma. She thinks she’s witnessed a murder, but what does this daycare child have to do with it, he wondered?
Continuing, Donna explained, “Anna Marie is so happy and never irritable. Of all the children I have each day, she’s the most obedient. She never complains.”
“How old is this child?”
“She’s eight,” Donna answered.
“Eight years old? Why isn’t she in school?”
“Her parents refuse the idea, Sheriff, because of her condition.”
“What condition?”
“She’s mentally challenged, but she is improving,” Donna leaned forward. “I tried to convince her parents she’d love public school. She responded to the stimulation by our teachers and the other kids. I saw it myself.”
“I understand your point, Ms. Adams, but it’s the parent’s right to decide their children’s education.”
“I know Sheriff.” Donna felt the salty tears run into her mouth.
The Sheriff asked, “What is her mental age?”
“She’s about a three years, but when she first came, she was much younger acting. She improved quickly. That’s why I know public school would help her, but it doesn’t matter now….” Donna’s voice trailed off and she began to cry again.
The Sheriff sat looking at the woman crying. She’s on the verge of hysteria, he thought. “Ms. Adams, please, calm down. You must get to the point. What happened?”
“Yesterday evening, I went out to check the mail. Among all the bills and flyers, was a bright pink envelope. It stood out from all the other envelopes because it was big and so very pink.”
“What was in the envelope, Ms. Adams?”
“It was an invitation,” Donna choked back another sob.
“Who had sent it?”
“Anna Marie’s parents.”
“What was the occasion?” the Sheriff tapped his pen on the desk.
Without answering his question, Donna pulled the pink envelope from her purse, opened it, and lifted a matching pink card from its folds and began to read:
“Mr. and Mrs. Davis invite you to attend the funeral of their beloved Anna Marie, age eight, on October 9th, 2011. On this most solemn day, it is our wishes that you would be by our sides as we say our final “goodbyes” to our beautiful and loving daughter. The Funeral services will be held at 1:00 P.M. at the Last Rites Funeral Home on Edison Street. Anna Marie’s physician, Dr. Goodson, will be presiding over the events.”
“I couldn’t believe what I was reading, Sheriff. The child was in perfect health! I asked myself, how could this be? I almost passed out. I barely made it back into the house. When I was able to calm down, I looked at the date on the invitation. It was mailed the day before. Anna Marie was in my care that day! She was not dead then! How could the next day I receive an invitation to her funeral? I thought I was losing it.”
“What happened next?” the Sheriff asked.
“I frantically tried to call Anna Marie’s parents, again.”
“Did you reach them?”
“No one answered. I thought about going to their home, but then I realized, perhaps, this was some sort of cruel Halloween joke. So I called the funeral home. The woman who answered the phone confirmed a funeral at One P.M. for an Anna Marie Davis. I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. I cried all night!”
The sheriff reached for his calendar. “Today’s the funeral. I assume you went.”
“Yes, but first I went to the daycare. I showed the teachers the invitation. No one could believe it. All I could think about was the last time I saw her and what she was doing.”
“What was she doing?”
“Playing with her baby doll and sucking her thumb, as she does every day.” Donna stopped speaking. She felt her throat tighten up.
“After the daycare, where did you go?”
“I went home and dressed for the funeral. Around 12:50 P.M. I entered the funeral home. There was a group of men and women dressed in black. Most of the women wore black veils. I found this odd.”
“Why?” the Sheriff shifted in his chair.
“I felt they were hiding,” Donna paused.
“Hiding?” the sheriff raised his voice.
“Yes, trying to conceal their identities. I just felt odd,” Donna shifted in her chair. She wanted to run from this office, but where would she go?
“Go on, Ms. Adams, what happened next?”
“I saw a casket in the center of the room. It was lined in pink and yellow checks. The colors were so bright. It looked like a baby bed, not a casket. The casket was empty!”
“What do you mean ‘empty’, Ms. Adams?”
“I mean Anna Marie was not in the casket! It was empty.”
“Were you in the wrong area?”
“No, I checked the name on the marquee before I went in. It said, Anna Marie Davis.”
“Go on with your story, Ms. Adams.”
“I think I was the last person to arrive, because shortly afterwards, someone closed the doors behind me and a low marching song began.”
“What do you mean a ‘marching song?”
“I don’t know. I was distracted because the two doors across the room opened. Anna Marie’s parents made their way to the casket and sat down. The woman’s face was covered with a black veil, so I couldn’t see her, but the man was, definitely, Anna Marie’s father. He held the crying woman close. He never looked at her, he never shed a tear.”
Donna stopped talking and disappeared into her thoughts.
Breaking the silence, the Sheriff asked, “What happened next?”
“A minister came and stood over the casket, blessed it, then said a prayer.”
“I thought you said the casket was empty?”
“I did,” answered Donna. “Why do you think I said I was confused? I thought they had cremated the little girl and were only going through the formality of a service.” Donna’s voice began to rise again.
“Calm down, just, tell me what happened next,” the sheriff ordered.
“After the minister’s prayer, the music started and the doors opened again.”
“What doors?”
“The same doors the parent’s had came through, but this time a doctor appeared, dressed in white, carrying a little girl. She had pink pajamas on and carried a baby doll. She was smiling.”
“You mean she was alive?”
“Yes, completely and smiling. Two other men followed the doctor. One carried a bag and the other one a plastic sheet. Oh! Sheriff! They placed the little girl in the casket. She laid down on the pillow and began sucking her thumb. She was so precious! She even turned on her side clutching her baby doll. I’ve seen her do this at naptime!”
Donna could not go on with her story. Her throat tightened and her body began to violently shake.
The Sheriff stood up and made his way to her side. He kneeled beside her and stroked her arm. He wanted to comfort her, but he knew, first, she must release this pain. After several moments, her sobs quieted. The sheriff, gently, touched her shoulder, “Can you go on?”
“They suffocated her!”
The Sheriff looked at the woman without blinking an eye. “What did you say?”
“I said they suffocated her or maybe they poisoned her. I don’t know. I’m so confused!”
“Ms. Adams, did you say there was a doctor present?”
“Yes, I’ll never forget him.” Donna began to shake again.
“Please, Ms. Adams, take a deep breath and try to explain what you saw,” the Sheriff got up and walked towards the window.
“The doctor and another man placed the plastic sheet over the upper part of her body and held it down. I don’t know how they attached it. It just seemed to stick to the silk lining of the casket. At first, the poor baby just laid there. But soon, she grew restless and struggled to push the plastic away. She started to cry, but one of the men pushed a bottle full of liquid into a plug in the plastic so she could nurse. She eagerly took it, but soon there was no more movement.”
“I think the bottle contained poison! Why else would she stop crying so quickly?” Donna’s voiced trailed off. She didn’t need the sheriff to answer her.
“Did you try to stop them?” the Sheriff asked.
“I yelled, “Stop it! What are you doing?” But two men came and tried to grab me. I jerked away and ran out. I don’t know what happened after that; somehow, I made it here. Sheriff, they murdered Anna! You must arrest them?”
The Sheriff left the window and walked over to a bookcase. After a moment, he pulled a new green book, with bright gold lettering, from the shelf. Walking back to his desk, he sat the book down, but did not open it. After what seemed an eternity to Donna, the sheriff took his seat and opened the book to the table of contents. After scanning the page, he flipped to the center of the book. He seemed, oblivious, to Donna, as he read silently.
“Sheriff, did you not understand what I said? They murdered that little girl! Shouldn’t you be checking with your patrol car?”
The Sheriff raised his head from the pages of the book and asked, “Did you in anyway attempt to physically stop them?”
“I told you. I yelled, “Stop”, but two men in black came at me. I was scared, so I left. For all I know they are out there waiting for me!”
“Ms. Adams, no one is outside waiting for you,” the Sheriff attempted to assure her.
“How can you be sure? They murdered that little girl!” Donna insisted.
“Donna, by law, they did not murder anyone, but they could press charges against you for attempting to interfere with their parental rights.”
Donna looked at the man before her and felt her body go numb. Had he said they could press charges? Did he say parental rights? She felt horror shoot through her like a lightning bolt. Had she came to the wrong place for help?
“What are you talking about, Sheriff? They murdered that little girl.”
“Not in this state, Donna. It is not called murder. You said the child was mentally challenged. You see this book?” the Sheriff lifted the green law book from the desk. “These are the new laws for the twenty-first century. Remember a few years ago, that woman in Florida who was starved to death? Well, I guess someone decided starving her to death set a precedent, and our state decided the quality of life should rise to a new height, or as some say, to a new depth. Nevertheless, the law, in this state, was changed. Now it provides for Quality of Life Mercy Terminations. They, legally, call them QL Terms. See it’s here on page 120.” Pointing to a paragraph, the Sheriff read the new state law:
“Parents, spouses or adult aged children have the right and responsibility, deemed and endorsed by the state, to make merciful decisions, in advance, to terminate a being, whom is recognized by three designated, state licensed healthcare physician professionals, as incapable of leading a productive or beneficial life on behalf of themselves or society. The parents, spouse or adult aged children may choose the form of termination which they feel would best exemplify humaneness and mercy. The termination process chosen must be registered by permit. A licensed physician must be present to witness or perform the manner of termination and to witness and verify the time of termination. All such terminations shall be held lawful, as long as, all terms and conditions of this law are fully and dutifully met and documented by all parties involved.”
The Sheriff continued, “I’m afraid, Donna, you witnessed a new mercy termination. It’s a part of the ‘right to die’ act passed a year ago. So far we are the only state to adopt it.”
Donna sat still. His words echoed in her ears, without comprehension. She didn’t remember the woman in Florida she was tending sick kids in the Philippines. She had purposely stayed away from US news. She liked the simplicity of the country and for those two years she chose to work, sleep, read and enjoy the beauty of the land. She had no family to check in with, except some cousins in New York during holidays. Since returning to the U.S. she had retained her habit of no television. She, rarely, read the papers. She was too busy with her new business. Was this really happening? Did he say it was legal?
Fumbling with her purse, she asked, “You knew about this?”
“I knew a permit was filed. I didn’t know it was Anna Marie until the last part of your story. Then I realized it was your little girl. I am sorry Donna. I don’t have to agree with the law. I just have to uphold it.”
“But you dispatched a car to the funeral home!” Donna argued.
“I thought maybe something else had happened at the funeral home.”
He thought someone else was murdered! The thought immobilized her. She wanted to run, but her legs felt like sandbags were tied to them and she was sinking into the ocean. She felt a cold, numb tingling spreading from her head to her toes.
Facing a large picture window sitting behind the sheriff, she could see the outside world. There were families who were oblivious their world had terribly changed. Others must be like her, unaware they were no longer safe, she thought.
She was not safe. Who could she trust? This law made every parent and spouse legally God, capable of preserving or destroying life by a permit.
“Ms. Adams, may I take you home?” Donna did not answer.
“Ms. Adams, are you alright?” the Sheriff pressed.
The woman continued staring without answering.
“Ms. Adams, should I call a doctor?”
This question jolted her. Her pulse quickened. What doctor? Did he mean the one from the funeral home?
“No, I’m going. I have my car.” She found the adrenalin needed to leave her chair. She wanted to escape. She wanted to feel safe.
Clutching her purse, she hurriedly, left the Sheriff’s office, without saying, ‘goodbye’.
At the end of the corridor, near the door, she saw a garbage can. Looking behind her, she saw no one had followed her.
Opening her purse, she pulled out the pink invitation. For an instant she hesitated. This was all she had left to remind her Anna Marie had existed.
No, she thought. She had her memories. She had Anna Marie’s smile, forever, in her heart. No one could take that from her. Dropping the pink invitation into the garbage container, Donna closed her purse and pushed through the heavy metal door leading to the parking lot.
Tears filled her eyes as she ran to her car. Tomorrow she would put her business up for sale. She would warn the other teachers. She was leaving this state as fast as she could.
Her hands shook as she opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat. Inserting the key into the ignition, she glanced towards the sheriff’s office. He stood behind the clear glass window watching her. His face was expressionless. A cold shiver ran down her spine.
Starting the motor, she pressed the pedal hard causing her rear tires to screech as she pulled from the curb. Nervously, she grabbed the mirror and searched the road behind her.
I’ll never forget this day, she whispered.
I’ll never forget you, Anna Marie, she vowed.
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