Who is Sadie Willow?

 

Who is Sadie Willow?
by Dave Wright

His eyes flutter open to a view of the Beartooth Mountains. The pain has not begun to claw at his belly. He knows it won’t last. The morphine is doing its job—for now.

Judge Thorton Guilfrey asks himself, “Is this justice?”

His entire life has been devoted to justice. The law has been his bedrock. He has spent his career faithfully interpreting the law. If someone was found innocent in his courtroom, Judge Guilfrey welcomed the defendant’s freedom. If the verdict was “guilty,” he meted out the consequences believing anyone found guilty should suffer the consequences of his actions.

There is little gray in the judge’s life. It’s either black or white. When in doubt, look to the law.

Now he is confused. The pain is roaring back. He grips his abdomen as he lies in a hospital bed in a remote cabin outside of Red Lodge, Montana. He has chosen this place to end his life on his terms.

Judge Guilfrey has the resources to have gone wherever he wanted. He could have gone to Switzerland, Canada or New Zealand if the trip had not been so inconvenient. He considered going to New Mexico, but it would have required miles of red tape to becoming a resident. He was not above bribing a fellow judge to obtain residence, but he was running out of time. He could have gone to California, but to die with all those left-wing radicals…never. Montana it was. Montana does not require residency to be eligible—only the approval of two doctors who agree that he has less than six months to live and that he is still capable of swallowing the barbiturates that will deliver him painlessly from this world to the next.

But not yet. He is still in control of what’s left of his life.

“Nurse Willow,” he croaks. “Nurse Willow! I need my meds. Where the hell are you?”

Sadie Willow steps quickly into the room. “I’m here, Judge. I was just out on the porch. Here’s your medication.”

Judge Guilfrey opens his mouth a crack to receive the morphine drops.

As he floats toward a mist void of pain, he gazes out the window and considers what he had hoped would be many years of retirement: eighteen holes of golf every day, two fingers of Glenlivet scotch and a Cuban cigar every evening, and the occasional escort when the spirit aroused him—all those things that he could so easily purchase.

After decades of ferreting out the snarls and loopholes of the law, he felt he deserved it. He had the freedom and the means: No wife to fawn over him. She bailed out years ago before he accumulated his real wealth. Two sons, but they had been estranged since the divorce. They had failed to meet his expectations, and it turns out, he had failed to meet theirs. No loss. They became their mother’s problem.

He drifts into unconsciousness mumbling, “Where is the justice in a diagnosis that changes everything?”

****

Sadie Willow smiles and adds the final drip of morphine into her patient’s mouth. “You’re so right, Judge. A diagnosis changes everything.”

She reads his chart aloud: “Stage four, metastatic, exocrine pancreatic cancer. Prognosis—dire.” She shakes her head. The judge’s pancreatic enzymes are digesting his body from the inside out, an explanation for his intense pain. Metastatic. It has spread to other organs, perhaps to his liver, lungs, abdominal organs, or bones. It doesn’t matter. It’s all bad. She gives his withered hand a gentle pat. Poor Judge Guilfrey.

While the judge snores in the front room, Sadie steps out the door of the cabin, resumes her seat in the rocking chair on the porch, and inhales the mountain air. It is early June, and the daffodils are in bloom. The snow-capped Beartooth Mountains reflect a pink hue the distance. She appreciates the location Judge Guilfrey has chosen to end his life but is amazed at how he was able to arrange it.

Early in their relationship, Sadie discovered that the judge was used to getting his way. Back in Texas, when she heard that he qualified for hospice care, she applied to be his caregiver. When she arrived for the interview, the judge took one look at her and fired his previous nurse on the spot. He grumbled, “If I have to die, I’ll be damned if I’ll do it surrounded by an old, rat-faced bitty.”

Sadie had to agree that the woman was as mean as she looked. She delayed giving the judge his painkillers, she changed his diaper when she was good and ready—not before, and she spent more time sitting with a trashy novel than she did sitting with the judge.

Sadie Willow got the job. As she accepted responsibility for her next patient, she watched the judge’s expression to see if it registered any flicker of recognition. It did not. He was more focused on her legs and breasts than on any previous encounter.

Soon after two doctors signed a form predicting that Judge Guilfrey had less than six months to live, that he was mentally capable of making a lucid decision, and that he wanted to end his life with medical assistance, he tracked down Bernie Beltry, a friend who owed him a favor.

Thorton Guilfrey and Bernie Beltry were hunting partners. They usually hunted elk in the fall from his Montana cabin, but Bernie itched to bag a wild boar. A few years ago, he had taken a junket to Texas where he poached a couple of feral hogs on public land. Since feral pigs are considered a pest in Texas, Bernie didn’t feel the need to purchase a license. The game warden disagreed and was not amused by Bernie’s lack of respect for the sacred law of Texas. (A license is required when hunting on public land).

But the warden became careless in his rush to arrest the rude out-of-stater and didn’t read Bernie his rights.

Lucky for Bernie, the Honorable Judge Thorton Guilfrey heard his case. When Bernie showed up as a defendant in his courtroom, Judge Guilfrey didn’t bother to point out the conflict of interest. He read the case against Bernie carefully and pounced on the technicality that the game warden had overlooked. Bernie returned to Montana Scott free and was forever in debt to Thorton. Since Bernie had not planned to use the cabin in the middle of June, he was happy to let the judge use it as long as he wanted.

A cool breeze sends Sadie into the cabin for a blanket and a sweater. The judge breathes with a raspy chortle. A discharge like tobacco juice runs down the corner of his mouth. Sadie wipes the judge’s chin and aspirates the fluid from his throat. He resumes his steady breathing and Sadie resumes to her rocking on the porch.

She continues to be baffled by Guilfrey’s ability to have his way with an otherwise cumbersome system. The judge demanded that he spend his final days at the cabin in the mountains. The administrators at St. Luke’s Hospital in Red Lodge explained that assisted death required that he be hospitalized when he received the end-of-life dose of barbiturates. Without blinking an eye, Judge Guilfrey pulled out his checkbook and donated a fifty-thousand-dollar upgrade to the orthopedic department. The hospital complied with the judge’s demands, and the pharmacy dispensed the pentobarbital pills to Nurse Willow. He winked at Sadie and said to the hospital administrator, “I assure you that my nurse will administer the pills at my discretion.”

As always, money speaks, thinks Sadie.

She steps off the porch, pulls the blanket around her shoulders and walks among the wildflowers. She contemplates the diagnosis that changed the course of her life.

She had wanted to become a nurse ever since her mother, Marion, had died of a stroke. Her father vanished when Sadie was three. “Good riddance,” her mother had said, but it meant that Sadie became an orphan at the age of twelve.

Her mother’s sister, Olga, a wizened, scarecrow of a woman whose main purpose in life was coughing up Marlboro cigarette smoke and reciting the Rosary, reluctantly agreed to become Sadie’s guardian. Every morning as Sadie trotted off to school, she was reminded by Aunt Olga of how little Marion had left for her care.

“You should learn to be more appreciative, Sadie,” wheezed her aunt.

Olga thought she’d be rid of Sadie as soon as she graduated from high school (six years wasn’t that long), but Sadie was persistent and surprisingly manipulative. She found that life between the stacks of books at the library was far better than the smoke-stained walls of Olga’s paint-scabbed rambler. She left her aunt’s home early and returned late, which kept her out of Olga’s sight and consistently put herself on the A honor roll.

As soon as Sadie graduated from high school, she got accepted into the nursing program at the local college. In a weak moment, Aunt Olga allowed Sadie to talk her into staying with her until she graduated from nursing school.

Sadie didn’t enjoy her aunt’s company any more than her aunt enjoyed hers, so she kept a low profile—continuing her practice of staying out late at night and taking only an occasional meal with her aunt. Despite Aunt Olga’s despicable temperament, Sadie’s room and board were covered. She really had no other choice.

Sadie met Dr. Tony Blake while he was completing his senior year of residency, and she was completing her clinical nursing requirements at Regency Hospital. Sadie was brilliant, beautiful, and industrious, but she was also impulsive. She read somewhere that “most terrible crimes are the result of passion without regard to repercussions.” Sadie discovered that the same was true for sex.

She had felt little affection from anyone since her mother died, so when the young doctor took an interest in her, she couldn’t help herself. Sadie and Tony arranged their romantic liaisons in the wee hours of the morning when most of the patients were sleeping, and the staff were glued to their computers. The couple usually met in the sterile confines of a recently vacated hospital room observed by a non-judgmental IV stand and a mute EKG monitor. Sadie found the risk exciting. Was it love…or just sex? She had no experience with either, so how would she know?

Her passionate flings with the handsome and promising Dr. Blake resulted in a life-changing diagnosis: “You’re pregnant,” said the first-year intern who examined her.

****

Judge Guilfrey emerges from his drug-induced slumber. Am I in heaven or hell?

Sadie Willow hovers over his face. He peers into her deep blue eyes, feels a few wisps of her golden locks. It must be heaven, he thinks with relief. He struggles to turn his head on the pillow. He smiles. The angel is wearing a white, short-skirted nurse’s outfit. It reminds him of something he had seen in a 70’s movie. His arm trembles as he reaches for her leg.

The drugs confuse him as he wakes completely. “Who are you?” he whispers.

“Hello, Judge Guilfrey,” says the angel. “I’m Sadie Willow, your hospice nurse.”

“Oh yes. Now I remember. Not in heaven? Damn.”

“Sorry, Judge,” says Sadie gently. “I’m afraid it’s not heaven.”

He is happy to have been called “Judge” by Sadie. It’s a sign of respect that he feels he has earned, but he is disappointed to learn that he is still alive. If he was honest with himself, he would have expected to feel the flames of hell licking at his back. Instead, he gazes into the angelic, oval face of Sadie Willow. He once heard a phrase told to him by a devout Christian after the man had been acquitted of a heinous crime: The grace of God passes all understanding. Maybe there’s something to it after all.

Thorton Guilfrey is not a religious man. He had never darkened the door of a church or synagogue, but he was sympathetic to the religious right. It’s what got him elected to the bench in Texas.

A small cramp in his belly is building to a crescendo. I suppose I deserve this miserable fate.

Thorton Guilfrey knows he is a flawed and stubborn man. He was overweight until the cancer turned him into a skeleton. He smoked a box of cigars a month. He caroused and drank bourbon with his friends, mostly judges and lawyers (who abandoned him after he could no longer swing a golf club). The disloyal bastards. And he had ignored the early signs of pancreatic cancer—a mild bellyache after eating (Rich foods. What can I say?), piss the color of strong tea (Probably just not drinking enough water), the loss of a few pounds, (That’s good, right?). He hated doctors (Always telling you to change your lifestyle).

Oh well. Too late to change any of that now.

Judge Guilfrey writhes in pain. It’s getting worse. This must be hell after all.

“Nurse Willow,” he gasps. “It’s time. Give me the pills. I want them now.”

Sadie lifts his head and fluffs his pillow. “Soon, Judge. Very soon,” she coos.

“I want the pills now, goddammit! Don’t you see that the pain is eating me alive?”

****

Sadie deftly steps away from the old man’s attempt to stroke her leg, a move she learned when she worked at “The Scarlet Chop,” a restaurant with red carpets, red wallpaper, red leather booths, and red meat. She took the job a year and a half ago because the tips were good. The dress code required that she wear a short skirt, a tight, revealing blouse, and fishnet stockings. It was a disgusting haunt for lecherous old men, but it is where she overheard Judge Guilfrey and his buddies commiserating over his diagnosis.

Sadie ignores the judge’s pleas and goes to the back room of the mountain cabin. She slips off the ridiculous nurse’s costume and replaces it with a pair of well-worn jeans and a flannel blouse. She shakes her head wondering how a man on his deathbed could still think of sex. Men…

“I’m taking a walk, Judge,” she says lightly. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“You’re taking a f---ing walk? I hired you to control my pain and to give me those pills the minute I want them, AND I WANT THEM NOW!”

“I do declare, Judge. I think you’re addicted. It’s probably best you lay off those drugs for a bit.”

“Addicted! Who gives a shit if I’m addicted in my situation.”

Sadie leaves the cabin and hikes over a rise so that she can think in peace without listening to the judge’s ranting.

She has endured plenty of her own pain.

When Aunt Olga, a conservative Catholic, discovered that Sadie was pregnant, it was the excuse she needed to rid herself of her niece. “Leave my home immediately!” she screamed between raspy wheezes. “I’ll not have a heathen living under my roof. Now, take your things and get out.”

Sadie was forced to find an apartment that she couldn’t afford, to rack up more debt on her nursing degree, and to worry about Tony’s reaction to her new situation.

At first, Tony was very supportive of Sadie’s pregnancy. “I’m a responsible adult,” he said. “I’ll support you in any decision you make. I’ll even pay for your apartment until you finish your nursing degree.”

This was all very encouraging to Sadie, but about five months into the pregnancy, the baby quit kicking. Is he sleeping? Is this normal? When a week went by without movement, Sadie scheduled a transvaginal ultrasound.

The technician looked up with a worried expression. “I’ll get the doctor.”

An agonizing half hour passed before the doctor returned with an expression as grim as the technician’s. “I’m sorry, Sadie, but your baby has what is called a non-survivable fetal anomaly, also known as a lethal fetal anomaly.”

“What does that mean?” stammered Sadie.

“I’m afraid that your baby would not have survived after birth.”

“You mean it’s not alive now?” demanded Sadie.

“I’m afraid not,” said the doctor.

“What do I do?”

“The best thing is to wait patiently until you go into labor. Once that happens, we can assist the delivery.”

“Wait patiently! You mean wait for a miscarriage? While I’m carrying around a dead baby?”

“I’m sorry, Sadie. It’s all we can do.”

“If the baby’s already dead,” she argued, “can’t you induce me?”

“Not in Texas, I can’t,” said the doctor. “That’s considered an abortion. If you don’t miscarry on your own, you may need a D&C, a dilation and curettage, but I can’t perform that in this state unless your life is in danger.”

“But my life is in danger,” screamed Sadie. “I’m in the middle of Texas. I can’t afford to go to another state. I’m not insured, and I have nothing in the bank.”

The doctor shook his head, pursed his lips apologetically, and left the room.

Sadie didn’t tell Tony about the ultrasound results, but she suspected he may have read her medical record.

In any case, her world was about to fall apart.

“I’m sure you can understand, Sadie,” said Tony. “You know my residency is ending this month and I’ve got this great opportunity to practice in California. I really can’t pass it up.”

“What about our baby?”

“I’m sorry, Sadie, but I thought you were taking care of the birth control.”

Sadie glowered at him. “So, you found out that the baby is dead or going to die?”

Dr. Blake (He’s no longer Tony to Sadie) looks at the floor and says nothing.

“Can you help me go to another state so I can have the baby delivered? I can’t stand to think about walking around with what used to be such a source of joy and now is nothing but a mass of dead tissue.”

“If I help you, Sadie, I could be accused of malpractice before I see my first case after residency. My hands are tied.”

“You’re an asshole, Dr. Blake.”

Dr. Blake considered her accusation. “Maybe a judge could intervene and allow the procedure. I’ll try to pull some strings on your behalf.”

****

By the time Sadie Willow returns to the cabin, Judge Thorton Guilfrey is writhing in pain.

“About time you returned,” groaned the judge. “Now, goddammit, let’s get this over with. Give me those pills.”

“I want you to be fully aware of our conversation,” begins Sadie. “No drugs. No painkillers. No easy out. You need to know what you have done to my life.”

Judge gasps, “What the hell do you mean? I’m paying you to do a job. Now, it’s time for you to fulfill your contract.”

“I’m not talking about contract law, Judge,” says Sadie. “Take a good, long look at me.”

Sadie hovers over the judge’s desiccated face. To Sadie, it looks more like a shrunken head from an Amazon Indian tribe than that of a human being. “Do you see anything more familiar than a pretty face?” she asks the judge.

He shakes his head and groans again.

“Look closer,” she demands. “It was five years ago. I was in your courtroom.”

His eyes flicker with a shadow of recognition.

“I was pregnant carrying a dead baby. I asked you to allow my doctor to perform a procedure to save my life.”

Sadie sees the judge’s face shift from grimace to terror.

“You…you’re the one.” He gasps again and twists in his bed. “You wanted an ABORTION!”

“That’s right, Judge. You thought I was disrespectful when I sat down in the courtroom.” Sadie pulled a chair close to the judge’s bed so she could look him in the eye. “I was so toxic that I couldn’t stand. That baby was rotting inside me.”

“It was still an ABORTION,” railed the judge.

Sadie can’t believe his stubbornness. “I nearly died because of your righteous belief in the RIGHT TO LIVE.”

“Give me those pills,” moans Judge Guilfrey. “That was so long ago. You’re alive and well now.”

“No thanks to you, Judge. I went home to my apartment that night. Before I passed out, I called the only person who might answer the phone.”

“Why should I care who you called?” says the judge.

“It was my Aunt Olga. Aside from you, she is the most hateful person I know. But even she had enough pity on me and my condition to pick me up and take me to the emergency room. There, the medical staff finally determined that I was sick enough to complete THE ABORTION that saved my life.

Even now, the judge doesn’t consider an apology. “The pills, Sadie. For God’s sake, give me the pills.”

“I want to read you the quote that you wrote in your judgement regarding my case. I memorized it: “Thou shall not kill. Life is sacred and should not be cut short by any human intervention. This is the LAW.”

Sadie opens the window and flings the barbiturates into the field of daffodils.

As she reaches for the door to leave, she says over her shoulder, “Life is sacred, Judge. Savor every last minute of it.”

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