the local obstetrician, you get to hear about all sorts of stories about young girls getting
pregnant.”
“Like my mom?”
“Yeah,” answered Margaret, realizing what she had just said. “Like your mom, I suppose.
She’s a neat lady to accomplish so much after she went and had you on her own.”
“Yeah, mom did pretty good for herself. I like Daren, he’s a pretty neat stepfather. Most
ladies who did what my mom did at that time never married, or their husbands are real losers.
Mom says she doesn’t regret having me, but I think she sometimes wishes things had worked out
differently. She was pretty dedicated to finish her degree, once I started school. That’s quite an
accomplishment for her to go back to school at her age and get her bachelors degree from
college.”
“I really like your mom,” agreed Margaret. “She’s so down to earth. My parents are
great, but they’re really old fashioned. I don’t want to wait that long before I have any kids. Your
mom’s so young, and she lives in the present. My dad’s a gynecologist and I can’t even feel
comfortable talking to him about sex. Mom’s so old fashioned, that she never even mentions it.”
“My mom was always really frank about those things,” explained Amy. “I know it’s
because she doesn’t want me to end up in the same predicament as she did. She lived alone for a
lot of years. She didn’t meet Daren until she went to college. She was really lonely. Growing up
with her was kind of like having a mom and a close friend at the same time, and she shared a lot
of her feelings that most mothers might hide.”
Margaret could tell that something bothered her close friend. She hoped that she hadn’t
upset Amy by bringing up the subject. Margaret and Amy shared parents. It was Amy’s mother
who talked with Margaret about her body, and answered some really embarrassing questions
when she didn’t know where to turn. Margaret loved her own parents, but there was a sense of
honesty in everything that Amy’s mom said, and she seemed easier to talk with. She had never
known anyone like the woman, and truly admired her.
“It must be neat when you can talk to your mom about everything.”
“Almost everything. There’s still one thing she never would talk to me about. I
sometimes wish I could know, but I don’t want to press her about it. I know it upsets her.”
“What’s that, Amy?”
“I’ve always wondered who my dad is. She never says anything about him. I brought it
up once and it really upset her, but the thing is, I’m almost eighteen years old. I think I’m old
enough to know who he is. I’m just too afraid to ask.”
“Is she the only person who knows who he is?”
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“Yeah. Even when she told my grandparents that she was pregnant, she wouldn’t tell
them who the father was. She didn’t want anything to do with him. I asked my grandmother once
if she knew who he was and she said that mom never uttered a word as to his identity.”
“Wouldn’t it be on your birth certificate?” asked Margaret.
“Your dad had him listed as anonymous on the birth certificate. It isn’t a true certificate,
but a substitute like they give to adopted kids. I think when I turn eighteen, I have a legal right to
know, but I don’t want my mom to know I’m searching for him.”
“That must be really hard not knowing who he is. I wish there was something I could do
to help.”
“Not unless you wanted to break into your dad’s records,” Amy joked.
“Do you want to?” Margaret asked in a more serious tone.
“We can’t do that, Margaret. Can you imagine the trouble we would get into if your
parents found out? I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“My parents would never know. My dad snores so loud that they wouldn’t hear us if we
ran a truck through the living room window. His office is downstairs and nobody else is home.
They’re probably long asleep by now. I know where he keeps the keys to his file cabinets. He
probably has all the information about you that we need. All we have to do is walk down the hall
and take a look.”
Amy lay inside her sleeping bag for what seemed like a long time before she responded.
She had never thought to sneak through the records of Margaret’s father to find out the identity
of her dad. Amy shared the same respect for Margaret’s parents that she did for her own.
Sneaking around was something uncommon to her character, but it was a chance to find out
without hurting anyone. The opportunity had snuck up and surprised her, leaving her with little
time to weigh the good and bad points of each. Given time to think about it, her conscience
might change the outcome of her response, but shock had forced her to overlook her conscience.
The shock soon surpassed as the interest and excitement overcame her. She started out of her bag
just seconds later.
“Let’s go,” Amy whispered.
“You don’t need to whisper, Amy,” Margaret remarked. “My parents will never hear us.
Follow me.”
The two girls climbed out of their bags and walked quietly down the hallway to the study.
It felt odd sneaking around in their nightshirts, but exhilarating at the same time. Margaret
opened the door and the two girls walked in and turned on the small desk lamp. The lamp lit up
only a small area for reading and added very little light to the rest of the room. It lit the room
enough for the girls to make out the larger objects in the room. Margaret reached into the middle
drawer of the desk and pulled out a set of keys from the back.
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Margaret had seen her father place the keys in the desk a hundred times, but for some
reason felt sinister taking them out for her own use. Her dad had always told her that his files
were off limits, and she had always obeyed his wishes, but this was different, her best friend had
a problem that she could help sort out. It all seemed harmless enough, and Amy's mother didn't
want to talk about it. This was Amy's only source of the knowledge. Margaret wouldn’t let guilt
keep her from helping out her best friend. She knew that if the tables had turned, Amy would do
the same for her.
She picked up the desk lamp and walked over to the file cabinet, placing the key inside
the lock. The key turned with ease and the squeaky drawer slid open. Margaret set the keys on
the desk behind her as the two girls began shifting through the folders for Amy’s name.
“This is the wrong drawer. They’re alphabetical, but this doesn’t go far enough,”
explained Amy.
Margaret used the keys to open the rest of the drawers in the file cabinet. She started from
the bottom, pulling open drawers and shifting through their contents for Amy’s last name.
Margaret noticed her fingers felt sticky, and realized that they trembled from nervousness. She
didn’t know what they would find, but hoped it would help Amy.
“I can’t find the file here, Amy,” explained Margaret. “It’s probably listed under your
mom’s maiden name.”
She hadn’t thought of that either. Amy finally located her file and pulled it out. The two
g
irls walked over to the desk quickly, and set it beneath the lamp. They opened the file and
began to read it. They found many papers inside the manila folder with information about Amy’s
health as a child. There were also many legal papers certifying the existence of the child. It took
some time to sort through everything.
“You were born with jaundice, Amy,” Margaret chuckled as she read over a copy of
notes her father had taken after the delivery. “You cried immediately after exiting the birth canal
and it says you look like a perfectly healthy baby, except that you were yellow.”
“That’s quite common for children,” defended Amy.
“Here’s a copy of your birth certificate right here, Amy,” Margaret spoke, holding up a
legal document.
“That’s the one my mom had your dad make up for me,” Amy explained. “It’s just like
what they give to adopted kids so they won’t know that they were adopted unless the parents
want to tell them. There should be another document that has the actual information on it.”
“That’s funny, Amy, this is the same kind of birth certificate that I have,” Margaret noted
in an odd voice.
Amy held up another paper similar to the one Margaret carefully looked over. “This is
it,” Amy explained as she studied it for some useful information.
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Margaret set down the paper she held and looked over at the document held by Amy. The
two girls read down the page until they reached the information they wanted. There on the page
was the name Amy had never known. It didn’t deliver the shocking blow they had expected.
“Does it sound familiar?” Margaret asked.
“No,” Amy remarked. “Who do you think he is?”
“Looks like he’s your dad,” Margaret answered.
“Isn’t there anything else about him?”
“Just some of the notes from my dad’s first exam with your mom. The rest of it is all
documents and medical information,” answered Margaret.
“What does it say in the notes?” pleaded Amy.
“It just says that the mother didn’t want the name of the father disclosed to anybody and
specifically asked that he never repeat it. It says that he plans to honor her wishes and will not
release these documents unless ordered to by a judge. He also says that he explained the reasons
why he needed the father’s name and what might happen if a court order was released asking that
the name be disclosed.”
“So I’m legally entitled to know this information?” asked Amy.
“Not until you’re eighteen.”
“Do you think we’re wrong for sneaking through these records like this, Margaret?” Amy
asked in a regretful voice. “I feel really guilty about it, but I think I’m entitled to know.”
“I don’t feel that guilty about it. Now you know. That’s what we wanted, wasn’t it?”
“All we know is a name. I have no idea of how to contact him, or even where to begin.
All I have is the real birth certificate with a name I’ve never heard written on it.”
“This puzzles me,” uttered Margaret, not really paying attention to the emotional
dilemma her friend went through. “Your other birth certificate looks just like the one I have.
Why do you think my dad didn’t give me my real one?”
“Well, to be honest with you, Margaret. You don’t look at all like your brother and
sister,” Amy answered, trying to look serious, but cracking a smile and giggling as Margaret
looked up at her.
“I want to look at my file,” explained Margaret, still completely serious about answering
her question.
“Come on, Margaret, you don’t think you’re adopted, do you?”
“No,” answered Margaret. “How could my whole family hide something like that from
me for my entire life. I just want to know why I’ve never seen my real birth certificate.”
Margaret left the desk with the lamp and began shifting through the top file cabinet
drawer, searching for her name. She located the file and pulled it out, returning to the desk where
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her friend waited. Amy had already returned the documents from her file to the folder the way
she had found them, and set the document to the side.
“Did you find it?”
“Yes,” answered Margaret. “But it isn’t very heavy.”
The two girls opened up the folder to find three papers. Margaret expected more, like
Amy’s file contained. She glanced through the papers quickly, hoping to discover why her father
didn’t give her the real birth certificate. The first document was a copy of the paper Margaret had
always accepted as her birth certificate. It listed her parents just as she expected it would. The
two girls quickly set it aside to look at the next two papers.
The second paper looked just like the one that listed Amy’s father and mother on it. The
paper caught the two girls by surprise with the names this paper had listed. The bottom areas
which should have had the names of Margaret’s actual parents were both labeled with the word
none. Amy started to giggle when she read the document.
“And all this time I thought you were real,” teased Amy. “Now I find you’re just a
figment of my imagination.”
“It isn’t funny, Amy. I don’t understand.”
Margaret set the document aside and read the final page. Margaret read the memo aloud,
professional.
“Margaret Anne Drake is the product of the L.S.A.U. project. This project was headed by
Dr. Edward Penn. The information about this project is considered to be the property of Dr.
Raymond Drake, an aid to Dr. Penn in the experiment. For legal reasons, no information about
this project can be disclosed until the eighteenth birthday of Margaret Anne Drake.”
Amy smiled as Margaret looked up in astonishment. “I never thought your dad had such a
funny sense of humor. I wonder if he left the same kind of thing in your brother and sisters’
files.”
Margaret laughed to herself as well. She thought it seemed rather funny that he would go
to such lengths for a gag. “I guess it serves its purpose. He obviously didn’t want me snooping
through any of this, and had the foresight to expect that I would someday. I wonder where he
keeps my real birth certificate?”
“Probably at the office in the clinic,” suggested Amy. The sound of a toilet flushing from
upstairs startled the two girls’ tranquility. They threw the papers back inside the folders and
returned them to the file cabinet.
Margaret felt her heart beating hard against her chest, realizing what would happen if her
father caught her. She had never given her parents a reason to doubt their trust in her. Suddenly,
she felt awful for what she had done. In seconds, they had locked the file cabinet and replaced
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© 1995 Brett Barney Literary Page 24
everything as they found it. They shut out the light and quickly cracked the door to see if anyone
had ventured downstairs.
Finding the hallway empty, the two girls ran softly down the hall to the family room and
slipped inside their sleeping bags. Margaret wondered what she would say if her parents came
down. She could hear her heart pounding, and wondered if they could as well. Margaret and
Amy held perfectly still for several minutes, with only the sounds of young girls trying to catch
their breaths, disturbing the silence of the night.
“I think someone just got up to use the bathroom,” Margaret finally spoke after several
minutes had passed.
“Yeah, I think you’re right.”
The two girls remained silent for some time. Margaret thought about what she had found
in her file. She never realized her dad had such intuition to plan for her sneaking in and looking
through his papers. He seemed like such a simple man to her, not like a man who could dream up
a story like this. It eased her conscience to know that he had foreseen that she might snoop
around, and took precautions against it. She wondered how she would face him tomorrow,
knowing that she had looked through something forbidden, and whether he would know.
As Margaret shifted through her thoughts, strange things she remembered came back to
her. Amy’s remark of how she didn’t look like her siblings bothered her. Amy was right,
Margaret looked nothing like her brother and sister, yet they both looked just like her parents.
Margaret’s older sister and she were completely opposite. Helen was smaller and quite
petite, her hair much darker than Margaret’s, which was almost blond. Margaret was well built,
something her sister had always envied. It didn’t bother her that she looked different from the
rest of her family, at least, not until now.
As the youngest child, Margaret always felt like an outsider in the family. Now all her
feelings of not belonging the way she thought she should seemed vindicated. What if the papers
weren’t false? They looked like legitimate documents, except for the letter, and her dad wasn’t
the type of guy to do such a thing. Why would he even bother making up a fake document? It
just didn’t feel right to her.
“Margaret, thank you,” Amy spoke, disturbing her friend’s wandering thoughts.
“For what?” questioned Margaret.
“For finding the name of my father.”
“Oh,” spoke Margaret, returning her thoughts to the present. “Right, you’re welcome.