I was at the Ninth National March for life in Ottawa recently, walking along in front of the Parliament buildings, when I spotted a familiar face pushing a small wooden white cart in front of him through the crowds on the sidewalk. He wore an oversized T-shirt emblazoned front and back: “I’M PRO-LIFE.”
I called out to him: “Hey! What are you doing here? The last time I saw you, you were trying to sell four broken-down, second-hand British subs.”
“You’re right. The Liberal government spent a fortune refitting them and it was a waste of money. The latest news I heard was that the Canadian navy was going to tow them out in the St. Lawrence and use them for target practice.”
“That figures. What are you doing now?”
“I’m selling body parts.”
“What?!” I exclaimed. “That doesn’t sound very ethical for a pro-lifer to be doing.”
“Relax. I’m just selling gift certificates. I’ve nothing to do with the procurement. You know: don’t ask, don’t tell. You look like you might be a candidate for a liver gift certificate. We’ve a special on this week: $17,500. Would you like to see one?”
Shocked, I said: “Yes.”
He opened up the top lid of his cart and handed me a large embossed and embroidered gift certificate that looked very impressive. In the middle was a beautiful coloured photograph of a liver. “Nice, eh? Looks like a stock certificate, doesn’t it? The guy that does them for me is a talented counterfeiter. He’s out on parole now. He does great work. You give me the $17,500 and I send a draft to a doctor friend of mine in China and he takes it from there. And I take my two per cent.”
“Your two per cent?! You mean 52 per cent, don’t you? But don’t you think it’s unethical – that you’re taking advantage of people’s suffering and violating human rights?”
“Don’t look at me. I’m not executing 3,400 people a year. I’m just selling body parts that they have no more use for. Now, if you want to sit around a doctor’s office for two years waiting for a kidney or a liver, that’s up to you. If we graduated as many doctors as we do lawyers, we wouldn’t have that problem.”
“You’re creating the problem by marketing these body parts certificates!” I exclaimed.
“No, I’m not. I’m just satisfying the demand. I’ve got to go offshore to do it. Now, we’ve a special on kidneys this month. Two for the price of one and no waiting. Just $39,500!”
He delved into his cart and came up with a large glossy certificate with two kidneys displayed in the middle. “Look at these kidneys! They’re beautiful. Have you ever seen any better-looking kidneys than that?” he asked. “But maybe your wife would like to buy you something more romantic. A heart gift certificate? A heart transplant for Christmas? Or maybe Valentine’s Day? What a thought! That would show the world that she wants you around for another 20 years.”
He proudly got out another glossy certificate, this one of a heart, and said: “Poignant. It gets you right in the heart, doesn’t it? They don’t come cheap, though – $72,000. But you can use your Master Card. We don’t take personal cheques. We’ve got a lot of satisfied customers out there and there is no waiting list.”
I protested: “This is totally unethical. China has 68 crimes that you could be executed for. They include non-violent crimes like tax fraud, embezzlement and drug trafficking. If the market for body parts continues to grow, overnight parking will be a capital offence!”
“Don’t give me that pious talk. You’ll be calling on me one of these days.”
“Never!” I cried.
“We’ll see. To show that I appreciate you listening to me – I’ve got a free gift certificate for you!”
“No, thanks.”
He dug into his cart and came up with another certificate. “There’s something that you could do with right now: a certificate for a hairpiece! With real genuine hair.”
“I’m getting out of here!” I yelled. I took off with my integrity intact. I’ve got to admit, though, that I did stop and look back wistfully at the hairpiece certificate he was waving.
