Chapter 14: In Vitro Efforts

Chapter 14

In Vitro Efforts

Steven Gouger followed the white-robed med assistant to the tiny room and tried to ignore the blaring fragrance of isopropyl alcohol. He watched the silent pawn spread a sheet of medical paper across the aqua-colored vinyl cushions. Steven Gouger focused on the gray bun that jerked like a fish bobber as she robotically set the stage. She pivoted and turned the doorknob with her gloved hand and exited the room, slamming the door ever so slightly.

Steven Gouger locked the door and settled settled himself on the starchy white paper. He opened one of the many crisp issues of “Playboy” to the centerfold and placed it on the couch next to him. He liked looking at Hef's girls—who didn't? However he found the dainty lookalikes a little too distant to be employed in a utilitarian manner.

To help him complete his mission, Steven Gouger removed an inactive mobile device from his pocket. The phone capabilities of the phone had never been activated. Steven Gouger used this secret vault to view slide shows of Lauretta's younger sister, Julie, Lauretta's good friend Sherry Cummings, a neighbor's daughter who was a cheerleader at Ole Miss and Lauretta's nineteen year old cousin, Riva.

Steven Gouger would also remove his daily cell phone that contained slides of his wife in various stages of undress. He knew he would later be quizzed on where his eyesight was focused prior to the completion of his duty. He wanted to be able to tell his spouse without hesitation that he was unable to take his eyes off of her in her black negligee stroking her Teddy Bear ever so suggestively. He knew he would make his wife blush and smile.

Steven Gouger briefly reflected on the nature of women. Yes, they were smarter than men but they could never understand men. Then again, why would they want to? With his jeans around his ankles, Steven Gouger started the slide show. Had anyone ever jerked off to an image of his wife? Was it even possible?

The tiny screen overflowed with images of his 22 year old sister-in-law Steven Gouger had lifted off her MyFace page. Julie had been a lifeguard in high school and college and she posted dozens of photos of herself in an array of swimwear. Her tan, wet skin. Her sleek bod. The dirty blond Julie. The fade to brunette Julie. The blond highlight Julie. The bottle blond Julie.

Close but no fiesta. Steven Gouger switched to Sherry Cummings. What exactly made this woman so erotic? The low cut blouse helped but it was her inner confidence that exuded sex through every pore...seconds later it was Wendy Johnson, the cheerleader and seconds later...Riva also had dozens of photos on her MyFace page. She too had been a cheerleader. She too, owned several bathing suits but it would be her graduation photo that would allow Steven Gouger to roll the credits. That heavenly face. So smooth. So gentle. So creamy.

Steven Gouger rested briefly, pulled up his jeans and placed both cells into his pants pocket. He carefully applied hand sanitizer ever so cautious not to disturb the contents of the plastic cup. He glanced at himself in the mirror and walked the cup down the synthetic hardwood hallway where it would be received by an impassive Vietnamese man in a lab coat who would quietly thank Steven Gouger without making eye contact.

On his way home from Music City Steven Gouger darted his old truck in and around and through slower traffic. It was mostly interstate between Vanderbilt and the homestead. The landscape was dreary brown and there were hints of fog here and there.

At 90 miles per hour he reflected once more on the unending nightmare. Initially Lauretta was subject to early stage miscarriages. She was told she might have had a few more miscarriages without even knowing it. Doctors and copays and time and treatment seemed to solve the problem. But Lauretta would not get pregnant.

Along the way, Steven's sperm count had dropped from slightly low to significantly low. And he would find himself in the office of a urologist who would grip his scrotum tightly as he glared at his patient. Dr. Antaramian was new to Mississippi Urology Associates and thus his name did not appear on MUA's website or any of their literature. Had he seen the name Antaramian, Steven Gouger would have sought treatment elsewhere.

Just two weeks prior, the DEA had shut down a pain clinic run by another Dr. Antaramian. The urologist's older brother had been shuffled off to jail and his assets, including his house and vacation cottage, were seized. The clinic had not excessively written pain scripts but but the local office had fallen behind schedule in the prescription abuse department and someone had to take the fall. Besides, Steve Antaramian had been rude to DEA staff.

Peter Antaramian knew that Steven Gouger was a DEA agent and though he did not mention his brother's ruination, he did not hide his contempt. He was rough. He was gruff. He was rude. Steven Gouger still held the opinion that the younger Doctor Antaramian intentionally misdiagnosed his problem. He remained convinced that he had concealed the presence of a varicele. So humiliated by one office visit that Steven Gouger waited a full year to undergo a second opinion. The new doctor was gentler and kinder and took the requisite steps for corrective action.

A degrading surgery was performed and Steven Gouger's sperm count would elevate but not as high as he had hoped. Now Steven and Lauretta took turns driving back and forth to Nashville in hopes of conceiving through artificial insemination. Lauretta had insisted that they sue the urology practice for misdiagnosing the varicele but Steven would have none of it. No amount of money could make him relive his humiliation. Telling his story to a lawyer and then another lawyer and depositions and more depostions and then what?

Steven knew of people who had faked injury and ultimately became crippled. Walking with a cane was no longer optional. And if they played the role of victims of infertility...

Steven's memories would be interrupted by the blue lights of a Tennessee State Trooper in his rear view mirror. His heart raced as he fumbled for his Mississippi State Police badge. He would wait patiently for the trooper to aproach and then wave his courtesy in a manner equivalent to a secret handshake.

Had the snarling trooper not been cooperative, he would have produced his DEA credentials. Both Tennessee and Mississippi issued phony creds to Federales so as to not blow their cover. True to form, the Faberge-reeking pug backed down but not before issuing a slight admonishment.

“Ninety seven? I will extend professional courtesy but you are pushing your luck, sir.”

Steven Gouger promised to slow down and thanked the grimaced officer. It would take him about four hours to get home and it was dark when he pulled into his driveway. In the old days he and Lauretta would have gone to the bedroom and he would remark how the second time always felt better. No more. Infertility was now the elephant in the room and their intimacy was limited to reproductive efforts. They would not want to bother just a few hours after ejaculation.

Tonight the Gougers would sit on the couch and watch “Crime and Justice” reruns until bedtime. They would both remark that even if their dreams were ultimately broken, there was always “Crime and Justice” and for that alone, life was worth living. 

Chapter 11: Raid

Chapter 11: Raid

Steven Gouger stood over his butch-cut female teammate, Cheryl Grimes, who subdued a female suspect, Ann Leigh Lee, on the dog dirt-encrusted carpet of Mrs. Lee's living room. Mrs. Lee was a meth head as well as a dealer and Steven Gouger would once more reflect on the unpredictable nature of speed freaks. The raid was conducted at dawn and neither Mr.Lee nor Mrs. Lee were sleeping. They were both multi-tasking a dozen separate chores---duties involving cooking and plumbing and baking and fiberglass insulation and caulking and canning and painting and small engine repair and myriad other jobs none of which related to cleaning in any way, shape or form—accompanied by the gentle rhythms of “Crime and Justice “ dialog blasting on all six television sets and the wafting bouquet of dog feces, dog urine, wet dog fur, cooked cabbage and chocolate chip cookies.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Steven Gouger felt himself grow queasy. His buddy, Ronnie Delveccio, had been assigned to doggie detail. It was his job to eliminate every canine weapon in the drug dealer's fortress. Six weeks ago, the Lee's tan pit bull gave birth to seven pups. So in addition to the mother and the oversized brindle sire, Ronnie Delveccio was now responsible for securing the safety of his fellow Drug Enforcement Agents from the additional weaponry. Steven Gouger worried about the emotional toll the assignment might take on his warm-hearted friend.

Steven Gouger had only known Ronnie a few months and in that time they became best friends. Years ago Steven Gouger had adopted three cats from someone he had helped send to prison. He would add another perp cat and one of the originals would die of a rare feline illness. He let it be known that he would provide temporary shelter for any cat whose owner was incarcerated. His wife, Lauretta, was tolerant of her husband's mission but warned him that things would change when the kids arrived.

But the stork would bypass the Gouger house and Steven and Lauretta would struggle with the vicious despair of infertility. Their marriage was a montage of doctors and specialists and consultants and more doctors and specialists and consultants, supplemented changes in diet and exercise, internet searches, re-commitment to Christ, more internet searches, a commitment to a more serious study of Scripture, dietary supplements and more recently, an indulgence in psychics and soothsayers.

Around the office, Steven Gouger was called the Catman. Most people assumed that he and his wife had decided against starting a real family and they would make stupid comments about their preference for cats over kids. Steven Gouger recalled a hot shot agent who had been involved in a high speed chase. “I can't die. I have a family,” he summarized.

That comment irked Steven because the hot shot was a chronic drunk and all around loser. His kids would have been better off with a cardboard cutout of a father. But his life had more value than Steven or Lauretta's. And Steven would recall Dingy Diane, the office manager who constantly complained about the high cost of feeding and clothing her family. “I think you and your wife made the right decision to have cats instead of kids.”

And Steven Gouger would remember the water cooler conversation after a nine year old girl had been abducted and murdered and her body had been found. One of the older women had told an attractive, childless twenty five year old year old agent named Alexia Anson, “You don't know what it's like to lose a child.” Neither did the old broad know what that experience was like. Her three kids were alive and healthy but somehow she had feelings that people like Alexia and Steven could never understand.

The damn fools! Steven and Lauretta had lost a dozen times over. No flowers and pity for Steven and Lauretta. No Hallmark moments and warm hugs. Go back to your iceberg, cat people. You are not quite as human as the rest of us.

Then Ronnie Delveccio transferred to Mississippi from Massachusetts. Uh-oh, we have another cat lover. Ronnie Delveccio and his wife, Jackie were childless with three cats. On the night they met, the two men went out for a beer and became instant buds. Ronnie and Jackie had been trying for over three years to start a family. They had ridden the roller coaster of hope only to be left empty. Both men commented on their eery similarities and how strange it seemed for them to get acquainted.

Thereafter the Catboys rode an inside joke. No matter what they might have been discussing, when another coworker joined their company, one of them would change the subject to felis domesticus. Steven would proclaim, “Did you know that a cat's sense of hearing is so sensitive that...” and Ronnie Delveccio would whip out wallet photos of shelter cats currently up for adoption.

The wives hit it off as well as the men and special bonds were formed. Now, standing in filth and chaos, Steven Gouger worried about his sensitive friend. Mrs. Lee's cries added to the pandemonium. “Don't hurt my babies.” Gurgle. Sob. Gurgle. “My babies.”

Oh gee. Ronnie Delveccio feels bad enough. The last thing he needs is to hear this loser cry about her dead dogs. Steven Gouger depressed the “Mute Input” button on his helmet as he stooped to whisper into Cheryl Grimes' ear. “I'm going to point the helmet cam over there,” as he pointed down a narrow hallway.

Cheryl Grimes nodded but the perpetrator went right on screaming and swearing. Steven Gouger felt his rage bubbling up inside and resisted the impulse to kick both women in their hollow heads. “Stupid fucking cunts,” he muttered under his breath.

Steven Gouger briefly reflected on the failed social experiment of women in the workplace. Put a but of strange men together and give them a task and it is as if someone is choreographing the raising of the barn or the building of the deck. Everything just falls into place. Every man finds his right job and he does it.

Put a woman in the mix and everything goes haywire. Women are always the whistleblowers. The spies. The snitches. The drama queens. The litigants.

Tell a man to silence a prisoner. You turn your head for a second and the prisoner shuts his mouth. Tell that to a woman and you just get more screaming. They might as well see who can scream louder.

Steven Gouger observed the prisoner. She lay belly down on the tattered and stained brown carpet, her head turned to her left, her long brown hair twisted in every direction. Agent Grimes was sprawled sideways across her back. Pop! The bullet to the face caused a pup's body to spasm in a last run that propelled him past a half dozen invaders and terminated with a collapse just inches away from Ann Leigh Lee's face.

Steven Gouger briefly considered something Roger Roy has said about Agent-In-Charge, Rex Stewart. It was widely rumored that Stewart also did extra-curriculars. Roger Roy told him privately that Stewart had placed Ronnie on doggie patrol to spur his transfer out of the Jackson office. Few people can stay on that assignment long term. Stewart wanted to pack the Jackson office with only his trusted personnel.

Steven Gouger did not like to admit that Roy was right about anything but he conceded that he probably was. Ronnie was hired in before Special-Agent-In-Charge Levinson suddenly left on medical leave. Had Stewart been running the show, he would have gotten one his cowboys in the office instead of a Yankee from Massachusetts. Now Ronnie was stuck on doggie patrol until he could no longer stomach the slaughter. What then? Agent Gouger, welcome to the counter-canine unit. No!

A burly agent named Steve Sanders whisked past Steven Gouger and turned off the living room TV with its oversized, water-damaged humazoo speakers that filled the house with muddy noise. For a small second, it was quiet. Then...Pop!

Steven Gouger jumped slightly and then slowly shook his helmeted head. He and Ronnie had a lot of thinking to do.