The Neighbor- Ch. 12
Notes from the Author
First, this story does not contain any sex scenes. I apologize for that, but there was no way to tie everything together within a reasonable time and page-count. But the chapter does set-up the final part of Suzi's story.
Unless the reader has read every chapter of my work, some of this may not make sense. It would be worth reading previous chapters to gain the context for what is occurring. Chapters 7 & 8 of this series will have all the relevant characters involved.
I need to give this disclaimer:
I am in no way connected, adept, or even knowledgeable, at and/or of the US legal system. I am going to try to give a somewhat believable description of what happens regarding Suzi and others in this chapter. So, for those who would contact me regarding the errors, omissions, and other information I am portraying here, you need not waste your efforts. This is a story that is not based on any person real or imagined by others, and no intentional representation is intended. This content is all made-up in the Author's mind.
Yes, I was advised to give this disclaimer by an attorney, who is a fan of my work.
======================
“How do I look?”
My husband looked at me and immediately shook his head.
“Too flashy for a courtroom. Think business meeting, like you are a businesswoman or something. Conservative and yet pretty. A miniskirt and heels will only get you trouble there.”
I had to admit, he was right. I was so nervous I wasn’t thinking things through. I had selected a tight black satin miniskirt hemmed about an inch below my ass and a halter-neck top that left some skin between the hemline and the beltline. My growing neediness for black men had slowly transformed me into a slut, and I was usually dressing the part, nowadays, though my husband hadn’t seemed to notice. So, I changed. After thumbing through my closet for the third time, I selected my black satin pussy-bow blouse with long trumpet sleeves that had tight 4-button cuffs, and a faux-leather pencil skirt that went to my knees. Under it was a garter-belt and dark, sheer, back-seamed stockings, with a black satin thong. I did notice that perhaps my skirt was getting a hint tighter to zip up, reminding me that a black child grew in my womb. A baby made not in love, but by ****, and I was going to court in hopes of getting a temporary injunction lifted, and my life back. The guy who did it, who ***** me, was a hulking fat man who evidently had some political pull in his native Nigeria. He also had a seriously prodigious cock, to make me feel the powerful orgasms I had, as I lay under him, his oversized body had me pinned flat on his hotel bed. But today wasn’t a time to dwell on past thoughts. I was worried I would have to face the General again, and the memories of how badly his cock devastated me.
With my husband’s approval of my outfit, we arrived at the courthouse early. We had planned on grabbing breakfast on the way, but neither of us had much of an appetite. But it did give us a chance to have a last consultation with our attorney, a young black woman named Talia. She took us into a small conference room, and we all got seated. She spent a moment eyeing us, before speaking.
“Okay, look, Mr. and Mrs. Recreant. I know this is going to be a stressful day. It will be for me too, because despite my efforts to negotiate with the other party, they have refused to even acknowledge my mail, electronic or otherwise. I have even gone through the efforts of sending them a formal, registered letter, to which I only got confirmation that it was delivered. Even that has taken some work, because we don’t have an address. So far, everything has been sent through the Nigerian embassy here. So, I am in the dark as much as you are. I know this doesn’t look good, but I still have some aces up my sleeve. But what I need to know, and need to know now, is your final decision. Do you want to have this baby?”
“No.”
“Yes.” I found myself blurting out.
My husband looked at me as if I had just sprouted horns. Talia just sat there and observed.
“What are you saying, Suzi?”
“Honey... I thought we had discussed this? We are both anti-abortion, and even though I was *****, the baby, my baby, can’t be faulted for this. The blame is on the General. He did it to me, and now I have to live with it. We have to live with it. I mean, we still have time to decide if we want to give the baby up for adoption, but in my heart… I… I just can’t do it any other way.”
My husband looked at me, and I could tell he was processing, because he just looked at me while I reached for a box of tissues on the table and tried not to destroy my makeup by sobbing. It felt like five years elapsed, and then my husband reached out and softly began to rub my back.
“Suz-…” he began. “After what we have been through recently, I get it. I don’t like it, but I understand it. Our marriage has taken a sudden turn and there is nothing we can do to un-do that turn. I imagine marriage counseling will be involved, but if you really want to have the baby, so be it. But once he is born, if we have decided on adoption, there can be no second thoughts, understood? I am trying to be fair and understanding here, but you must be fair to me, as well. Plus, we do have other options. We can travel to other countries where we can get an abortion later. Not much later, of course, but it would give us another 30 days or so to decide. But as I sit here, I am not comfortable with you having the baby. That said, I also can’t order you to have an abortion.”
I looked up to my husband’s eyes and saw it. For the first time, I realized the pain he was suffering. The emotional torture he must be going through. His loving wife, once loyal, adoring and above all, devoted, was now addicted to the kind of sex he couldn’t provide for her, and it hurt him. It was tearing me in two, now that I saw it in him.
“Honey… I... I love you. If you tell me that I have to choose between you or the baby… then I will have the abortion. I swore my vows to you on our wedding day, and I can’t go back on that. I love you too much to do that to you.”
Talia sat there for a few more seconds, to make sure we were done.
“Soooo... I take it your answer is now that neither of you want to have this child?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
She nodded to us.
“Alright then, I shall petition for dismissal of the injunction and a court order for an immediate termination to be completed within fourteen days.” She collected her file folders and her laptop.
Seated in the courtroom, there were a good number of people in there, and it had never dawned on me that there would be other people in the room to hear about my sex life and marital problems. This was going to be humiliating, to say the least! But as I sat there, I watched people getting court verdicts on matters ranging from where a fence belonged on a property, the value of chickens killed by another man’s dog, to a woman’s losing to a mechanic because she reneged on an authorization to get her car worked on. The judge issued an uncontested divorce decree for another couple, and it was interesting to note that she walked out with her new man, and he walked out with his new man. That was a twist I didn’t see coming. Then our names were called, and we were led up to the table, as defendants. Across from us sat a very handsomely attired white man and two black men, attired in formal Nigerian military regalia. The white man was their attorney, offering his name as Alan, and the two black men were on some sort of assignment to attend these proceedings. They evidently represented the General. The man whose name was so difficult for me to understand that I named him the “General with the last name unpronounceable with the human mouth”. The father of my child. Most of the courtroom had cleared by now, their business done, except for a few others, and this one very well-dressed white man, who kept looking at me. He gave me the creeps, but I had to ignore him, because I had bigger problems in front of me.
“Are both parties present and accounted for?”
“Yes, your Honor”, both attorneys said.
“Fine, then let’s get on with this. I understand that there is a pressing matter here, because of the calendar?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
Talia rose as she spoke.
“The matter at hand is a cease-and-desist order to prevent my client from having an abortion due to being given a child by ****, under CPC 261. Due to the circumstances, my client could not file a police report, as by the time she was in a safe condition to do so, she was out of jurisdiction, and the perpetrator had fled the country.”
“So, you are saying she was given a child by a man who fled? As a suspected criminal?”
“Yes, your-“
“Objection, your honor! The male half of this liaison has not been charged with any crime, and as such, it is prejudicial to identify him as a criminal, unless or until the man has been convicted of a crime, especially under PC 261, which has not even been filed, let alone reported to the authorities.”
“Sustained. The male half shall be referred to as a man or interested party until or unless he is charged and convicted. He still is innocent until proven guilty.” The judge nodded in affirmation.
“And how much time does our defendant have before it is too late to even have these proceedings, counsellor?”
“Four weeks, your Honor, possibly less.”
“Alright, I got it. The clock is ticking here.” He then looked at the plaintiff’s table.
“Alright, give me your side of this whole sordid tale?”
“Thank you, your Honor.” The man rose to begin his statement. “We were retained by the interested party for multiple reasons. The first, obviously, is to protect an innocent life, that of the unborn child his sexual partner is carrying. We have no problem stipulating that the child carried by the defendant belongs to my client. Second, he wishes to defend his good name. As you have already ruled, he is innocent of all charges, simply because none have been filed. Lastly, the liaison was one of consent, and he has stated that then encounter was not only consensual, but also performed with the intent of providing the man with a ******, a male heir. In fact, my client has expressed interest that the child be born in his country, so his heir could have full citizenship.”
“WHAT?!?!?!?” I popped up from my seat so fast that the chair kicked out behind me.
The judge did a bunch of gavel hammering and yammering, as our attorney, Talia, placed her hand on my shoulder and when I wasn’t sitting down, her other hand joined her and began to pull me down into my seat. The judge glowered at me and spoke to me in a very stern tone.
“Young lady… That will be the very last time you do that in my courtroom, today or any day. Do it again and I will find you in contempt of court, are we clear?”
I was still finding my seat, my chest heaving in outright anger. Oh, I was so beyond pissed.
“Young lady, I asked you a question. Do… I… make… myself… clear?”
“Yes, your Honor. My client understands. I shall make it clearer to her right now.”
I didn’t hear the rest of what the plaintiff’s counsel was saying as I was very quietly being read the riot act by our attorney.
“Look, you are my client, but I don’t do criminal work, so you best sit your ass down and shut up. Do that again, and the judge will throw you in lock-up. He is known for his short temper, so pipe-down and let me do the talking. Got it?”
I let out a deep, cleansing breath and nodded to Talia.
“Alright. Sorry.”
Standing up again, Talia listened to the rest of the plaintiff’s case, which not only made little sense to me, but I was so shocked I had little capacity to do anything but keep my mouth shut. I looked at my husband, and he was like me, absolutely furious, but his discipline was much stronger than mine. It was one of those things I admired about him.
Talia then began her response.
“Your Honor, I can sort of understand where the other party is getting his interest in this case, but he is safe beyond our country’s legal reach, for though we still argue that there was a crime committed, he cannot be charged. There is also no precedent for a foreign national to require an American citizen to be forced to have the child of such a foreign national, especially if the child is out of wedlock. He simply has no claim to what he wants. So, while my esteemed counsel can fill the room with words stating his clients’ wishes, the fact simply remains that there is no standing in our laws for this, let alone the other party’s demand for an out-of-country childbirth. There is simply no basis for it, anywhere. If the man wished to have his heir born in his country, then perhaps he should have conceived the child in his country. In fact, since this case is being heard, it provides ample proof of admission of paternity for the coming child-support case to be filed. A…” She looked at Alan the attorney. “A very substantial case, in fact, if the court rules against my client’s request for a court-ordered termination of pregnancy.”
At last! Some good news! Talia was doing battle, and to us, it seemed like she was winning! In fact, it looked like she was kicking his pompous ass! My spirits were lifted as the opposing counsel started to drivel on about the intentions of the founding fathers of our country, blah, blah, blah, and how we are to be the champions of the world, blah, blah, blah, and “it is in our country’s best interested to show our strength around the globe.”
I looked up to Talia, who was smiling. She realized, as I was starting to understand, that the guy didn’t have shit. Even the judge looked at him askance.
“Counsellor, other than spend precious minutes saying nothing related to this case, do you have any actual, useful argument to add to this case?”
Alan looked sheepish.
“No, your honor.”
“Then, finding no legal requi-“
“Excuse me, your Honor! Before you render verdict, may I please be heard in your court?”
Everybody turned to look at who was talking. It was the creepy guy who had been making eyes at me. I had to admit, he was well-dressed, and well-groomed, but who in the Hell was he and what did he have to do with any of this? It was then I heard my husband utter a soft ‘oh, shit’ under his breath.
“And who are you, Sir, to interrupt my court?”
“I’m sorry, your Honor, I am Theodore Williams of the United States Department of State, Diplomatic Corps, Central Section, Africa division. I have here a document from the State Department for you.”
He stood there as the bailiff took it from him and handed it to the judge.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand… what does the State Department have to do with any of this?”
“Please, your Honor, just read the document?”
As the judge began reading, I looked to Talia, who sat. She shrugged and gave that all too common look showing she had no idea what was going on, however, Alan across the table certainly seemed smug and happy. He knew something.
We sat there for the whole ten minutes it took the judge to read the document. He even reached over to his computer and tapped a few keys, before re-reading the material. I was clutching my husband’s fingers in a Vulcan death grip, my knuckles white. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Talia was getting the same impression. She looked at Alan, and he gave her one of those smarmy ‘tough shit’ looks in return. It was then I noticed one of the Nigerian military men looking at me with an evil smile. This was going to be bad.
I leaned over to my husband and whispered.
“Think those guys are here to make sure I don’t have an abortion?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe. But this State department guy is bad news. Something is up.”
I had to roll my eyes. “Ya’ think?”
Finally, the judge looked up and spoke.
“The court apologizes for the delay. This matter could have been handled more efficiently if the government representative…” The judge absolutely glared at Theodore. “Had presented his documentation before this hearing had even begun.”
The judge shook his head, mostly in annoyance, I was guessing. He took up his gavel in his hand and spoke.
“It is the order of this court that the petitioner’s demand for delay is granted, and that the defendant in this case is hereby ordered to deliver the unborn child to term. Furthermore, the Petitioner’s request for the childbirth to be held in the father’s home country is also granted. The defendant is hereby ordered to depart this country, with full assistance of the US State Department within 30 days, and she is hereby ordered to report to the US Embassy in Nigeria not more than 32 days from this date. Lastly, it is the order of this court that the State Department shall provide support and safety for the defendant while she is completing the court order, and as soon as may be practical after the delivery is completed, the State Department is hereby ordered to return the defendant to this country in the greatest comfort and safety.”
“Thank you, Your Honor…” Theodore cut in.
“Wait, young man, I am not done here.” He paused to get everyone’s attention. Mine was lost as I began sobbing on my husband’s shoulder as soon as I heard I had lost this case in the most shocking manner and in the most shocking degree. I thought I saw Talia’s jaw just flapping in surprise.
“The State Department is hereby ordered to provide full medical care on a 24-hour basis between now and the defendant’s return. This means doctors, nurses, ambulances, helicopters, whatever medical equipment she may need will be available, at a moment’s notice, wherever she may be anywhere on this planet, until this matter is over. Now… as for you two.”
He indicated the two Nigerian military men.
“I don’t know who you two are, but it doesn’t matter. This nice young man from the State Department is going to provide your information to the court for later entry into the record, or HE will be found in contempt. But effective immediately, you two are now personally responsible for the health, safety, and welfare of the defendant. If she wants a drink of water, one of you two gets up and gets it for her. Any time, any place. You will also inform your government that a detachment of United States military will be now stationed at the US Embassy in Nigeria, to bolster the US Marine guards already stationed there. The defendant will be required to have a face-to face meeting with the commanding officer of that detachment at least once every 24 hours. If she is not made available, then there will be consequences.”
The judge shook his head and then banged his gavel.
“Mr. and Mrs. Recreant, may I please see you in my office?” It was the judge.
“Talia, you are coming with us…” my husband said flatly.
With some trepidation, we were ushered into the judge’s office, and after we were all seated, he began, but his tone wasn’t what I expected.
“Mr. and Mrs. Recreant, on behalf of the court system, I must apologize. There is evidently something going on that is way above my pay-grade…”
At that, my husband suddenly grew far more attentive, and simply asked.
“I take it you are prior service?”
“Indeed, Mr. Recreant, I am still in the reserves, a Navy Captain in the JAG Corps, actually. You?”
“Yessir. I was assigned to SOCCOM, which you know I won’t speak further of. I am retired from that life, now.”
The judge nodded.
“Then you have my utmost respect, Mr. Recreant, I am sure I don’t know what you may or may have not done for our country, but I have no doubt you have served with distinction, which pains me all the further.”
I looked to my husband, who only gave a grave nod.
“Mrs. Recreant, it is important that you understand that I am not ruling this way out of a sense of fairness, or pressure due to societal issues. The plain truth is that your counsel was able to successfully defend you. That being said, the federal government is of the opinion that the plaintiff in your case could be somehow guided into some activity that would be benefiting our country. Simply put, they are using you as a political tool to gain something for which we have not, and will not, be told. I know this is grossly unfair to you, and your husband, and for that, I am very sad. But I get orders to, and so this is why you will be going to Nigeria to complete your pregnancy.”
I was about to say something, but he held up his hand to stop me.
“Please, Mrs. Recreant, allow me to finish. Being that the country has been in certain headlines recently regarding political unrest, I am ruling that the government is going to support you. They will provide you will all the medical needs you will have, including a mobile medical unit, which is a portable operating and recovery room, as well as the staff to man it 24 hours a day, every day, until you come back. In addition, you will be accompanied by a platoon of US Marines as your personal protection. While I cannot order Nigeria to allow them free travel in their country, I can order that the platoon be combat-ready at a moment’s notice, to rescue you in the event it is deemed necessary. I want to see to your safety, and the requirement for you to be seen, face-to-face every day is to ensure that. Please know that you are not forgotten in this matter.”
“Mr. Recreant, I am also going to be investigating to see if some of your former co-workers can be made available, in addition. If you wish to reach out to them as well, you are certainly welcome to do so. Oh, and before I forget, Mr. Recreant, your passport has been suspended by the State Department. They don’t want you going out on some heroic mission and upsetting their apple-cart, so to speak. So please don’t try.”
He then looked to Talia.
“Young lady, you presented a strong case, and were it any other way, you would have succeeded in your defense. It just wasn’t your day. But now I must prepare for my next hearing. If you would please see your clients out?”
------------------
My husband and I had spent the last three days in dead quiet. We didn’t speak to each other, except when absolutely necessary, and he had taken to sleeping on the couch. It was like he had suddenly decided he wanted out of our marriage. I found myself crying a few times a day. Not soft sobbing, but flat-out bawling. The ugly cries of tragedy and fear and pain. Was my marriage over? My life over? It took that third day to break the tension between us and we had it out. There was yelling, screaming, cross-accusations and in the end, I wound up on my knees before my husband, begging him not to forsake me, not to leave me, and not to abandon me. We made so much noise that we attracted the attention of the car stationed outside our home. It was the two Nigerian men, checking on my welfare.
They were polite, and spoke with that heavy Nigerian accent, but after seeing me, and verifying I was alright, they reminded me that one of them would be there 24 hours a day, to ensure I was safe, despite my reassurances that my husband would not hurt me. I knew it in my heart, my husband would never lift a finger to harm me.
That argument had been the last real attempt at communication by my husband. It was as if he had resigned himself that his wife was going to disappear and not return. I offered myself to him, and did my best to seduce him, but he didn‘t even get half-hard. All the fight was gone from him, and when mixed with my own sense of growing apprehension and dread, our marriage essentially ended. Not officially, but at least for the time being. But we did have one last conversation.
“Steve, I need to know what to do about my wedding ring?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I want to keep it with me, to wear it, and signal to everyone, especially you, that I am married and I am your wife. None of this will change that. I am going to deliver a baby and get my ass back here as fast as I can manage. My coming back to you is my top priority. There is a risk, though, of it being stolen from me. I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but it is a risk. I love wearing my ring, the ring you gave me. But I don’t know what you want? You have become so withdrawn and sullen, that I can’t figure out what makes you happiest?”
He sat there for the longest time, and then simply uttered “Keep it.”
He then went to his office, and he shut the door. It was devastating to me, as I was despairing for our marriage, and what was to come. I also had to start packing. Tonight was my last in my home, before I left on a long journey that would only end with motherhood. Motherhood to a black baby I was given by ****, and forced to carry under some secret government need that would pervert my marriage, and my life. I looked down at the paper the kind jerks at the US State department gave me as packing recommendations. What to expect, the weather, the environment, appearances I might be expected to make, even making sure I packed for a formal event, as well as daily-wear. Some asshole somewhere was wanting me to look my best for the General. Evidently he was expecting me to become his trophy baby-mama while I was there.
Packing was at once easy and painful. I knew two things. It would be very warm there, and I was going to get bigger. In fact, I could tell, now, feeling the swell of my womb as my baby grew. In a couple of weeks, people would have been whispering, if not outright commenting. There was no way I could keep it a secret from anyone. So, I grabbed the loosest outfits I had. From sundresses to over-size shirts, and even my black satin ensemble that got me in this mess. I took everything that was loose on me and would cover my growing belly. Makeup, toiletries, and a few miscellaneous items were also packed. I didn’t bother with my cell phone, as I was assured, in writing, that I would be able to call home.
The next morning, after a tearful goodbye on both of our parts, I left my home, ****** and friends, and was put on an airplane for Nigeria, and the waiting arms of the man who not only ***** me, but also had that long, thick black cock I still had not stopped thinking about.
Notes from the Author
First, this story does not contain any sex scenes. I apologize for that, but there was no way to tie everything together within a reasonable time and page-count. But the chapter does set-up the final part of Suzi's story.
Unless the reader has read every chapter of my work, some of this may not make sense. It would be worth reading previous chapters to gain the context for what is occurring. Chapters 7 & 8 of this series will have all the relevant characters involved.
I need to give this disclaimer:
I am in no way connected, adept, or even knowledgeable, at and/or of the US legal system. I am going to try to give a somewhat believable description of what happens regarding Suzi and others in this chapter. So, for those who would contact me regarding the errors, omissions, and other information I am portraying here, you need not waste your efforts. This is a story that is not based on any person real or imagined by others, and no intentional representation is intended. This content is all made-up in the Author's mind.
Yes, I was advised to give this disclaimer by an attorney, who is a fan of my work.
======================
“How do I look?”
My husband looked at me and immediately shook his head.
“Too flashy for a courtroom. Think business meeting, like you are a businesswoman or something. Conservative and yet pretty. A miniskirt and heels will only get you trouble there.”
I had to admit, he was right. I was so nervous I wasn’t thinking things through. I had selected a tight black satin miniskirt hemmed about an inch below my ass and a halter-neck top that left some skin between the hemline and the beltline. My growing neediness for black men had slowly transformed me into a slut, and I was usually dressing the part, nowadays, though my husband hadn’t seemed to notice. So, I changed. After thumbing through my closet for the third time, I selected my black satin pussy-bow blouse with long trumpet sleeves that had tight 4-button cuffs, and a faux-leather pencil skirt that went to my knees. Under it was a garter-belt and dark, sheer, back-seamed stockings, with a black satin thong. I did notice that perhaps my skirt was getting a hint tighter to zip up, reminding me that a black child grew in my womb. A baby made not in love, but by ****, and I was going to court in hopes of getting a temporary injunction lifted, and my life back. The guy who did it, who ***** me, was a hulking fat man who evidently had some political pull in his native Nigeria. He also had a seriously prodigious cock, to make me feel the powerful orgasms I had, as I lay under him, his oversized body had me pinned flat on his hotel bed. But today wasn’t a time to dwell on past thoughts. I was worried I would have to face the General again, and the memories of how badly his cock devastated me.
With my husband’s approval of my outfit, we arrived at the courthouse early. We had planned on grabbing breakfast on the way, but neither of us had much of an appetite. But it did give us a chance to have a last consultation with our attorney, a young black woman named Talia. She took us into a small conference room, and we all got seated. She spent a moment eyeing us, before speaking.
“Okay, look, Mr. and Mrs. Recreant. I know this is going to be a stressful day. It will be for me too, because despite my efforts to negotiate with the other party, they have refused to even acknowledge my mail, electronic or otherwise. I have even gone through the efforts of sending them a formal, registered letter, to which I only got confirmation that it was delivered. Even that has taken some work, because we don’t have an address. So far, everything has been sent through the Nigerian embassy here. So, I am in the dark as much as you are. I know this doesn’t look good, but I still have some aces up my sleeve. But what I need to know, and need to know now, is your final decision. Do you want to have this baby?”
“No.”
“Yes.” I found myself blurting out.
My husband looked at me as if I had just sprouted horns. Talia just sat there and observed.
“What are you saying, Suzi?”
“Honey... I thought we had discussed this? We are both anti-abortion, and even though I was *****, the baby, my baby, can’t be faulted for this. The blame is on the General. He did it to me, and now I have to live with it. We have to live with it. I mean, we still have time to decide if we want to give the baby up for adoption, but in my heart… I… I just can’t do it any other way.”
My husband looked at me, and I could tell he was processing, because he just looked at me while I reached for a box of tissues on the table and tried not to destroy my makeup by sobbing. It felt like five years elapsed, and then my husband reached out and softly began to rub my back.
“Suz-…” he began. “After what we have been through recently, I get it. I don’t like it, but I understand it. Our marriage has taken a sudden turn and there is nothing we can do to un-do that turn. I imagine marriage counseling will be involved, but if you really want to have the baby, so be it. But once he is born, if we have decided on adoption, there can be no second thoughts, understood? I am trying to be fair and understanding here, but you must be fair to me, as well. Plus, we do have other options. We can travel to other countries where we can get an abortion later. Not much later, of course, but it would give us another 30 days or so to decide. But as I sit here, I am not comfortable with you having the baby. That said, I also can’t order you to have an abortion.”
I looked up to my husband’s eyes and saw it. For the first time, I realized the pain he was suffering. The emotional torture he must be going through. His loving wife, once loyal, adoring and above all, devoted, was now addicted to the kind of sex he couldn’t provide for her, and it hurt him. It was tearing me in two, now that I saw it in him.
“Honey… I... I love you. If you tell me that I have to choose between you or the baby… then I will have the abortion. I swore my vows to you on our wedding day, and I can’t go back on that. I love you too much to do that to you.”
Talia sat there for a few more seconds, to make sure we were done.
“Soooo... I take it your answer is now that neither of you want to have this child?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
She nodded to us.
“Alright then, I shall petition for dismissal of the injunction and a court order for an immediate termination to be completed within fourteen days.” She collected her file folders and her laptop.
Seated in the courtroom, there were a good number of people in there, and it had never dawned on me that there would be other people in the room to hear about my sex life and marital problems. This was going to be humiliating, to say the least! But as I sat there, I watched people getting court verdicts on matters ranging from where a fence belonged on a property, the value of chickens killed by another man’s dog, to a woman’s losing to a mechanic because she reneged on an authorization to get her car worked on. The judge issued an uncontested divorce decree for another couple, and it was interesting to note that she walked out with her new man, and he walked out with his new man. That was a twist I didn’t see coming. Then our names were called, and we were led up to the table, as defendants. Across from us sat a very handsomely attired white man and two black men, attired in formal Nigerian military regalia. The white man was their attorney, offering his name as Alan, and the two black men were on some sort of assignment to attend these proceedings. They evidently represented the General. The man whose name was so difficult for me to understand that I named him the “General with the last name unpronounceable with the human mouth”. The father of my child. Most of the courtroom had cleared by now, their business done, except for a few others, and this one very well-dressed white man, who kept looking at me. He gave me the creeps, but I had to ignore him, because I had bigger problems in front of me.
“Are both parties present and accounted for?”
“Yes, your Honor”, both attorneys said.
“Fine, then let’s get on with this. I understand that there is a pressing matter here, because of the calendar?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
Talia rose as she spoke.
“The matter at hand is a cease-and-desist order to prevent my client from having an abortion due to being given a child by ****, under CPC 261. Due to the circumstances, my client could not file a police report, as by the time she was in a safe condition to do so, she was out of jurisdiction, and the perpetrator had fled the country.”
“So, you are saying she was given a child by a man who fled? As a suspected criminal?”
“Yes, your-“
“Objection, your honor! The male half of this liaison has not been charged with any crime, and as such, it is prejudicial to identify him as a criminal, unless or until the man has been convicted of a crime, especially under PC 261, which has not even been filed, let alone reported to the authorities.”
“Sustained. The male half shall be referred to as a man or interested party until or unless he is charged and convicted. He still is innocent until proven guilty.” The judge nodded in affirmation.
“And how much time does our defendant have before it is too late to even have these proceedings, counsellor?”
“Four weeks, your Honor, possibly less.”
“Alright, I got it. The clock is ticking here.” He then looked at the plaintiff’s table.
“Alright, give me your side of this whole sordid tale?”
“Thank you, your Honor.” The man rose to begin his statement. “We were retained by the interested party for multiple reasons. The first, obviously, is to protect an innocent life, that of the unborn child his sexual partner is carrying. We have no problem stipulating that the child carried by the defendant belongs to my client. Second, he wishes to defend his good name. As you have already ruled, he is innocent of all charges, simply because none have been filed. Lastly, the liaison was one of consent, and he has stated that then encounter was not only consensual, but also performed with the intent of providing the man with a ******, a male heir. In fact, my client has expressed interest that the child be born in his country, so his heir could have full citizenship.”
“WHAT?!?!?!?” I popped up from my seat so fast that the chair kicked out behind me.
The judge did a bunch of gavel hammering and yammering, as our attorney, Talia, placed her hand on my shoulder and when I wasn’t sitting down, her other hand joined her and began to pull me down into my seat. The judge glowered at me and spoke to me in a very stern tone.
“Young lady… That will be the very last time you do that in my courtroom, today or any day. Do it again and I will find you in contempt of court, are we clear?”
I was still finding my seat, my chest heaving in outright anger. Oh, I was so beyond pissed.
“Young lady, I asked you a question. Do… I… make… myself… clear?”
“Yes, your Honor. My client understands. I shall make it clearer to her right now.”
I didn’t hear the rest of what the plaintiff’s counsel was saying as I was very quietly being read the riot act by our attorney.
“Look, you are my client, but I don’t do criminal work, so you best sit your ass down and shut up. Do that again, and the judge will throw you in lock-up. He is known for his short temper, so pipe-down and let me do the talking. Got it?”
I let out a deep, cleansing breath and nodded to Talia.
“Alright. Sorry.”
Standing up again, Talia listened to the rest of the plaintiff’s case, which not only made little sense to me, but I was so shocked I had little capacity to do anything but keep my mouth shut. I looked at my husband, and he was like me, absolutely furious, but his discipline was much stronger than mine. It was one of those things I admired about him.
Talia then began her response.
“Your Honor, I can sort of understand where the other party is getting his interest in this case, but he is safe beyond our country’s legal reach, for though we still argue that there was a crime committed, he cannot be charged. There is also no precedent for a foreign national to require an American citizen to be forced to have the child of such a foreign national, especially if the child is out of wedlock. He simply has no claim to what he wants. So, while my esteemed counsel can fill the room with words stating his clients’ wishes, the fact simply remains that there is no standing in our laws for this, let alone the other party’s demand for an out-of-country childbirth. There is simply no basis for it, anywhere. If the man wished to have his heir born in his country, then perhaps he should have conceived the child in his country. In fact, since this case is being heard, it provides ample proof of admission of paternity for the coming child-support case to be filed. A…” She looked at Alan the attorney. “A very substantial case, in fact, if the court rules against my client’s request for a court-ordered termination of pregnancy.”
At last! Some good news! Talia was doing battle, and to us, it seemed like she was winning! In fact, it looked like she was kicking his pompous ass! My spirits were lifted as the opposing counsel started to drivel on about the intentions of the founding fathers of our country, blah, blah, blah, and how we are to be the champions of the world, blah, blah, blah, and “it is in our country’s best interested to show our strength around the globe.”
I looked up to Talia, who was smiling. She realized, as I was starting to understand, that the guy didn’t have shit. Even the judge looked at him askance.
“Counsellor, other than spend precious minutes saying nothing related to this case, do you have any actual, useful argument to add to this case?”
Alan looked sheepish.
“No, your honor.”
“Then, finding no legal requi-“
“Excuse me, your Honor! Before you render verdict, may I please be heard in your court?”
Everybody turned to look at who was talking. It was the creepy guy who had been making eyes at me. I had to admit, he was well-dressed, and well-groomed, but who in the Hell was he and what did he have to do with any of this? It was then I heard my husband utter a soft ‘oh, shit’ under his breath.
“And who are you, Sir, to interrupt my court?”
“I’m sorry, your Honor, I am Theodore Williams of the United States Department of State, Diplomatic Corps, Central Section, Africa division. I have here a document from the State Department for you.”
He stood there as the bailiff took it from him and handed it to the judge.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand… what does the State Department have to do with any of this?”
“Please, your Honor, just read the document?”
As the judge began reading, I looked to Talia, who sat. She shrugged and gave that all too common look showing she had no idea what was going on, however, Alan across the table certainly seemed smug and happy. He knew something.
We sat there for the whole ten minutes it took the judge to read the document. He even reached over to his computer and tapped a few keys, before re-reading the material. I was clutching my husband’s fingers in a Vulcan death grip, my knuckles white. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Talia was getting the same impression. She looked at Alan, and he gave her one of those smarmy ‘tough shit’ looks in return. It was then I noticed one of the Nigerian military men looking at me with an evil smile. This was going to be bad.
I leaned over to my husband and whispered.
“Think those guys are here to make sure I don’t have an abortion?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe. But this State department guy is bad news. Something is up.”
I had to roll my eyes. “Ya’ think?”
Finally, the judge looked up and spoke.
“The court apologizes for the delay. This matter could have been handled more efficiently if the government representative…” The judge absolutely glared at Theodore. “Had presented his documentation before this hearing had even begun.”
The judge shook his head, mostly in annoyance, I was guessing. He took up his gavel in his hand and spoke.
“It is the order of this court that the petitioner’s demand for delay is granted, and that the defendant in this case is hereby ordered to deliver the unborn child to term. Furthermore, the Petitioner’s request for the childbirth to be held in the father’s home country is also granted. The defendant is hereby ordered to depart this country, with full assistance of the US State Department within 30 days, and she is hereby ordered to report to the US Embassy in Nigeria not more than 32 days from this date. Lastly, it is the order of this court that the State Department shall provide support and safety for the defendant while she is completing the court order, and as soon as may be practical after the delivery is completed, the State Department is hereby ordered to return the defendant to this country in the greatest comfort and safety.”
“Thank you, Your Honor…” Theodore cut in.
“Wait, young man, I am not done here.” He paused to get everyone’s attention. Mine was lost as I began sobbing on my husband’s shoulder as soon as I heard I had lost this case in the most shocking manner and in the most shocking degree. I thought I saw Talia’s jaw just flapping in surprise.
“The State Department is hereby ordered to provide full medical care on a 24-hour basis between now and the defendant’s return. This means doctors, nurses, ambulances, helicopters, whatever medical equipment she may need will be available, at a moment’s notice, wherever she may be anywhere on this planet, until this matter is over. Now… as for you two.”
He indicated the two Nigerian military men.
“I don’t know who you two are, but it doesn’t matter. This nice young man from the State Department is going to provide your information to the court for later entry into the record, or HE will be found in contempt. But effective immediately, you two are now personally responsible for the health, safety, and welfare of the defendant. If she wants a drink of water, one of you two gets up and gets it for her. Any time, any place. You will also inform your government that a detachment of United States military will be now stationed at the US Embassy in Nigeria, to bolster the US Marine guards already stationed there. The defendant will be required to have a face-to face meeting with the commanding officer of that detachment at least once every 24 hours. If she is not made available, then there will be consequences.”
The judge shook his head and then banged his gavel.
“Mr. and Mrs. Recreant, may I please see you in my office?” It was the judge.
“Talia, you are coming with us…” my husband said flatly.
With some trepidation, we were ushered into the judge’s office, and after we were all seated, he began, but his tone wasn’t what I expected.
“Mr. and Mrs. Recreant, on behalf of the court system, I must apologize. There is evidently something going on that is way above my pay-grade…”
At that, my husband suddenly grew far more attentive, and simply asked.
“I take it you are prior service?”
“Indeed, Mr. Recreant, I am still in the reserves, a Navy Captain in the JAG Corps, actually. You?”
“Yessir. I was assigned to SOCCOM, which you know I won’t speak further of. I am retired from that life, now.”
The judge nodded.
“Then you have my utmost respect, Mr. Recreant, I am sure I don’t know what you may or may have not done for our country, but I have no doubt you have served with distinction, which pains me all the further.”
I looked to my husband, who only gave a grave nod.
“Mrs. Recreant, it is important that you understand that I am not ruling this way out of a sense of fairness, or pressure due to societal issues. The plain truth is that your counsel was able to successfully defend you. That being said, the federal government is of the opinion that the plaintiff in your case could be somehow guided into some activity that would be benefiting our country. Simply put, they are using you as a political tool to gain something for which we have not, and will not, be told. I know this is grossly unfair to you, and your husband, and for that, I am very sad. But I get orders to, and so this is why you will be going to Nigeria to complete your pregnancy.”
I was about to say something, but he held up his hand to stop me.
“Please, Mrs. Recreant, allow me to finish. Being that the country has been in certain headlines recently regarding political unrest, I am ruling that the government is going to support you. They will provide you will all the medical needs you will have, including a mobile medical unit, which is a portable operating and recovery room, as well as the staff to man it 24 hours a day, every day, until you come back. In addition, you will be accompanied by a platoon of US Marines as your personal protection. While I cannot order Nigeria to allow them free travel in their country, I can order that the platoon be combat-ready at a moment’s notice, to rescue you in the event it is deemed necessary. I want to see to your safety, and the requirement for you to be seen, face-to-face every day is to ensure that. Please know that you are not forgotten in this matter.”
“Mr. Recreant, I am also going to be investigating to see if some of your former co-workers can be made available, in addition. If you wish to reach out to them as well, you are certainly welcome to do so. Oh, and before I forget, Mr. Recreant, your passport has been suspended by the State Department. They don’t want you going out on some heroic mission and upsetting their apple-cart, so to speak. So please don’t try.”
He then looked to Talia.
“Young lady, you presented a strong case, and were it any other way, you would have succeeded in your defense. It just wasn’t your day. But now I must prepare for my next hearing. If you would please see your clients out?”
------------------
My husband and I had spent the last three days in dead quiet. We didn’t speak to each other, except when absolutely necessary, and he had taken to sleeping on the couch. It was like he had suddenly decided he wanted out of our marriage. I found myself crying a few times a day. Not soft sobbing, but flat-out bawling. The ugly cries of tragedy and fear and pain. Was my marriage over? My life over? It took that third day to break the tension between us and we had it out. There was yelling, screaming, cross-accusations and in the end, I wound up on my knees before my husband, begging him not to forsake me, not to leave me, and not to abandon me. We made so much noise that we attracted the attention of the car stationed outside our home. It was the two Nigerian men, checking on my welfare.
They were polite, and spoke with that heavy Nigerian accent, but after seeing me, and verifying I was alright, they reminded me that one of them would be there 24 hours a day, to ensure I was safe, despite my reassurances that my husband would not hurt me. I knew it in my heart, my husband would never lift a finger to harm me.
That argument had been the last real attempt at communication by my husband. It was as if he had resigned himself that his wife was going to disappear and not return. I offered myself to him, and did my best to seduce him, but he didn‘t even get half-hard. All the fight was gone from him, and when mixed with my own sense of growing apprehension and dread, our marriage essentially ended. Not officially, but at least for the time being. But we did have one last conversation.
“Steve, I need to know what to do about my wedding ring?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I want to keep it with me, to wear it, and signal to everyone, especially you, that I am married and I am your wife. None of this will change that. I am going to deliver a baby and get my ass back here as fast as I can manage. My coming back to you is my top priority. There is a risk, though, of it being stolen from me. I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but it is a risk. I love wearing my ring, the ring you gave me. But I don’t know what you want? You have become so withdrawn and sullen, that I can’t figure out what makes you happiest?”
He sat there for the longest time, and then simply uttered “Keep it.”
He then went to his office, and he shut the door. It was devastating to me, as I was despairing for our marriage, and what was to come. I also had to start packing. Tonight was my last in my home, before I left on a long journey that would only end with motherhood. Motherhood to a black baby I was given by ****, and forced to carry under some secret government need that would pervert my marriage, and my life. I looked down at the paper the kind jerks at the US State department gave me as packing recommendations. What to expect, the weather, the environment, appearances I might be expected to make, even making sure I packed for a formal event, as well as daily-wear. Some asshole somewhere was wanting me to look my best for the General. Evidently he was expecting me to become his trophy baby-mama while I was there.
Packing was at once easy and painful. I knew two things. It would be very warm there, and I was going to get bigger. In fact, I could tell, now, feeling the swell of my womb as my baby grew. In a couple of weeks, people would have been whispering, if not outright commenting. There was no way I could keep it a secret from anyone. So, I grabbed the loosest outfits I had. From sundresses to over-size shirts, and even my black satin ensemble that got me in this mess. I took everything that was loose on me and would cover my growing belly. Makeup, toiletries, and a few miscellaneous items were also packed. I didn’t bother with my cell phone, as I was assured, in writing, that I would be able to call home.
The next morning, after a tearful goodbye on both of our parts, I left my home, ****** and friends, and was put on an airplane for Nigeria, and the waiting arms of the man who not only ***** me, but also had that long, thick black cock I still had not stopped thinking about.
