“Hi, Billy,” said Amy. “Glad to see you. Please sit down, so I can let you know something.”
The girls had not really meant it, but Billy wound up sitting across the park table from the three of them, with Amy in the middle.
“Listen, it's best if I don't beat around the bush. I want you to know that I'm pregnant.”
Susan had to admit that Billy didn't miss a beat. There was no change in his expression as he brought both of his hands up on the table in front of him.
“Oh, I see,” he said, looking first at Amy, then at the other two. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, two tests have confirmed it, and now I can feel it myself.”
“And I guess you've told Susan and Bobbie that I'm the father. Are you sure of that too?”
Susan was flabbergasted. Bobbie started to stand up, clenching her fists, but Amy put her hand on Bobbie's leg to stop her. “Yes, Billy,” Amy said with some sting in her voice. “You are definitely the father. Either that, or, excuse me, Bobbie, we will shortly have the second virgin birth in just under two thousand years.”
There was silence for a moment between them. Billy looked down at his hands as he alternately changed the position of his thumbs. “Well, OK,” he finally said. “What do you want to do?”
“I guess that it's ultimately my decision,” said Amy, again mustering the maturity that Susan had first felt the previous day. “But I would very much like to have your input. Can you imagine, for example, that we would get married and raise a child? Could either of our parents raise it? There are apparently a lot of people who want babies. Should I have it and put it up for adoption? Or should I just get rid of it and hope that I feel like it never happened?”
Again there was a long silence. Billy was obviously thinking. “Well, if I have a vote, I vote for an abortion. I'm finishing my freshman year in college, and as much as I like you, I can't imagine us getting married and raising a family. I don't think I'm ready for that yet.”
Susan knew it was not all his fault, but she nevertheless thought to herself that he should have considered that particular point of view several weeks earlier.
“Well, if I do have an abortion and it costs something, will you help pay for it?”
“Sure, uh, sure. Of course,” he added with more decisiveness. And with some relief, it seemed to Susan, since it appeared for the moment that abortion was to be the resolution of the problem.
Bobbie, who had not said anything yet, now spoke up. “I know that neither of you wants to hear this, but there is a baby living inside you now, Amy. He or she did not ask to be there, but it has happened. That baby is alive, just like the four of us. God has made him. Abortion may ‘solve the problem’ for you, but what about the baby? I hate to spoil it for you, but you will be killing that baby.” Her voice rose slightly and she turned to Amy, her difficulty in speaking apparent to them all. “I hate this situation as much as you do. I wish it hadn't happened. I know having the baby would create all sorts of problems for you. But many, many other girls have gone through these problems, and a year later their lives are seemingly back in order. Some couple would love to adopt your baby, Amy. Please don't compound one terrible wrong by making an even greater mistake.”
While Bobbie spoke, Billy blanched, then spoke. “You can't really be serious? Have the baby? How old are you anyway, Amy? Seventeen? That's absurd to imagine.”
“It's obviously a lot simpler for you if Amy has an abortion,” Bobbie said, her anger rising. “But maybe you should have thought about that earlier. Now there is a baby to think about, and you're just thinking about yourself.”
“Now, Bobbie,” said Amy, placing her hand over Bobbie's hand. “I told you we came here to find out what Billy wants to do, not to lecture him. If you're handing out lectures, then you better lecture me as well. Anyway, he's not going to make the final decision. I am. And I haven't decided yet, although I do think an abortion does make the most sense for us, in our situation. But,” raising her hand to interrupt Bobbie's attempt to argue, “I told you that I also want to talk to your priest, or to someone. So please look into that. But please be discreet.”
“Well, you know where to find me, Amy,” said Billy. Sensing that he should be nice to her, since she was soon going to make a decision which could significantly affect his life, he added, “Would you like to go out one night this weekend?”
“I don't know,” she said. “I guess I can't get any more pregnant, can I, Billy?” she said acidly, as a bit of the anxiety she had kept under check for the past few days finally came out.
Billy turned red and looked at the other two girls, who were smiling “at-a-girl” smiles at him. “No, Amy,” he defended himself. “I like you, and under the circumstances, I thought you might want to go out and have dinner, that's all.”
“Well, thank you, Billy. Let me think about it. I'm genuinely a little confused now.” The control crept back into her voice. “That will probably be fine, but this hasn't been the easiest few days for me, and I need to think. I'll call you tomorrow, OK?”
“Sure, sure.” And Billy rose to leave. He started to lean over toward Amy, then could not quite manage it and instead just held her hand for a moment, turned, and left.
“Well, we have now confirmed where he stands. I guess we should all go home and study. I'll try to set up an appointment with the school nurse during seventh period, which we all have free, in the next couple of days, if you'd like to come along.”
Susan finally spoke, “Yes, Amy. We've gone this far together, we might as well see it all the way through. You know we want to help you.”
Having literally considered matters of life and death at the playground that afternoon, the three teenage girls returned to their homes to study French verb forms and the underlying causes of World War II.
Upon returning from “lunch” at Kristen's, Richard found that Robert Meredith was one of those who had called him at midday. “Listen, Richard,” Robert began, when Richard returned his call, “there's a small group getting together at my office on Wednesday mornings for three weeks, to talk about Ben Fuller's message. We'll have coffee and doughnuts and be finished by 8:45. Would you like to join us?”
Richard thought about it. He really thought about it. He was about to say maybe, when a voice inside him told him that even if he wanted to find out what that mechanical contractor had found, he certainly had no business talking about God when he had a mistress on the side, one whose perfume he could still smell from less than thirty minutes before. Men who seemingly talked to God wouldn't understand someone like him. The voice told him that if he ever wanted to have a relationship with God, he had first better take care of this mistress situation on his own. Then, maybe God might be interested in talking with him. But for now, there was no chance that God would have anything to do with someone like him.
“Listen, uh, Robert. I, uh, really appreciate your asking me. I certainly enjoyed Ben Fuller's talk, and it obviously had a tremendous effect on some of the men there. As I said on that card, please keep me on the mailing list. If you ever have another prayer breakfast, I'd like to try to come. But I just don't think I'm prepared to get involved in any kind of regular meetings or anything.”
“Well, OK,” said Robert, with obvious disappointment in his voice. “But if you'd ever like to have more information or ask any questions about what Fuller was talking about—I mean about letting God come into your life—please feel free to call me. Any time. I mean it.”
“Yeah, thanks. I certainly will. Goodbye.” Richard thought that Robert's voice sounded so certain, so in control of his life. Unlike Richard, who was trying to balance two women, a difficult law practice, a son who seemed to be withdrawing from him, and a daughter…a daughter who seemed OK. It suddenly occurred to him that maybe Bobbie Meredith, Robert's daughter, had something to do with his own daughter's apparent stability. Maybe so, he thought.
Yes, once he took care of the situation with Kristen, he might definitely give Robert a call and have bre
akfast with him. Try to find out what this stability, this peace really was. But God would definitely not want him as he was. So first he had to clean up his life, then find out about God.
As he put aside those thoughts and picked up another briefing file, Nepravel, who had floated in with Richard from Kristen's apartment, congratulated himself on this ruse, which he had used thousands of times in the past.
“If they start to look like they're leaning toward the truth,” Balzor had reminded them on many occasions, “give them the Unworthy voice. It lets them think temporarily that they are on the right track, but it keeps them squarely under our control, without any help from Jesus or those cursed angels. And nine out of ten times they'll eventually forget about it and be right back where they were within a month.” Yes, Nepravel thought. Unworthy was a great voice. And the great thing about it was, it was universally applicable to all of them!
FRIDAY, MAY 12 – That Friday afternoon at lunch in the high school cafeteria, Amy told Bobbie and Susan that their regular school nurse, Mrs. Simpson, had gone to a conference all week. Amy had not wanted to talk with the substitute.
“Mrs. Simpson will be back on Monday, and I'll try to set up an appointment for us early next week. I guess time is marching on,” Amy said.
“And I'll talk to Glenn Jamison, our youth leader on Sunday morning,” added Bobbie. “You'll really like him, Amy. He's young, has a wife and two children. He's a neat guy. Everyone in our high school group really likes him. I'll see if we can meet him one afternoon after school, maybe at the yogurt shop.”
“Thanks, Bobbie. I think maybe the park, or even his office, would be better. I hate to talk about something like this in the yogurt shop, where some of our friends might come in,” said Amy.
“Sure, OK. I'll talk to him and give you both a call on Sunday afternoon.”
“Janet, it's all set up,” said Bill Shaw, standing in the doorway to her office.
For a moment, she was uncertain what he was talking about. A questioning look confirmed it.
“You know, the ‘911 Live’ test run. It's all set up to take place here in two weeks, and I've been able to wrangle the four of us permission to chase along with the equipment, sort of adding a local interest to the network production. I told them that we could use the footage to promote the show here in the city. It's scheduled for Friday next week. Are you still on?”
“Yes, of course,” Janet replied. “I had just lost my train of thought for a moment. What time are we supposed to get together?”
“Probably about 5:30 in the afternoon. The network show in the fall is scheduled to run for ninety minutes, but it will have ten cities to pull input from. Since this test run will only take place here, they're going to give it four hours, from seven until eleven that evening. Will you tell the others?”
“Sure, Bill. And thanks for setting this up. I really appreciate your fair-handedness.“
“Of course. It's the only way to manage a creative bunch like you. Fair-handedness…” He smiled as he left her doorway.
That weekend, Amy surprised her parents by accepting their invitation to spend a couple of days together at their mountain home. She had decided that whatever the next weeks would bring, this might be one of her last chances to be with her parents as she used to be, their innocent teenage daughter. She had called Billy and told him that she certainly wanted to see him again soon, but this weekend she needed to be away. He had understood and had immediately asked her out for the following Saturday.
Susan and Bobbie had individual dates with Drew and Thomas. Each of them needed a little familiar territory after the tension of dealing with Amy's adult problem.
SATURDAY, MAY 13 – Kristen had flown to Dallas. She had said on Thursday that it was to visit her family, but Richard couldn't help suspecting that perhaps she was going to visit Peter.
Richard and Janet went to Tommy's baseball game on Saturday afternoon. It was the first game Richard had attended that season. He was proud of the way Tommy handled a long fly ball in the third inning—his throw to the cut-off man was right on target, and that boy then threw out the runner at the plate.
“Maybe I ought to talk to the coach about Tommy playing in the infield,” Richard said under his breath in the stands.
“No, I don't think you should,” Janet patted his hand. “Let's just let Tommy handle that.”
After the game, Richard and Janet congratulated Tommy and Brent on their win and on the fine plays they both had made.
“Would you boys like to go get a hamburger?” asked Richard.
“Thanks, Dad,” Tommy replied, not wanting to annoy his father. “After we get cleaned up, we were planning to go to the mall with Brent's brother, to the food court and to the arcade,” he lied. “Is that OK?”
“Sure, sure, Tommy. That'll be fine. You boys have a good time. Just don't stay out too late.”
With both children gone, which seemed to happen regularly now, Richard and Janet decided to go to a movie themselves.
It was, all in all, a normal weekend, with one great exception. Tommy was being dragged further and further into a group of boys whose way of dealing with parental problems and adolescent rejection was to band together and to spend every Saturday night experiencing fantasies and each other—in a way which seemed right only because they imagined themselves to be rejected by those whom they loved, or by those whom they wanted to love.
What could have been an understandable one-time adolescent experience was instead becoming a way of life for them. When Tommy arrived home late that Saturday night, he felt even more cemented to this particular “alternative,” because for the first time he had become an active, not just a passive, participant.
That evening, at their regular rendezvous over the city, the demons were a pretty contented and self-congratulatory group. Nepravel and several others reported major advances in the destruction of families along their streets.
“I think the prayer breakfast has almost blown over,” reported Tymor. “As we all know, there were some immediate conversions ten days ago, which is highly regrettable, but understandable. Happily, due to the hard work of so many of us, no major revival was kindled. Several of the new converts have been confused. Unworthiness has played a great role there. And the follow-up has been generally ineffective, because most of the hosts never went to see their guests face to face, nor really tried hard to interest them. So, exalted leader, I think we can generally stand down from the alert which the prayer breakfast caused us.”
“Yes, yes,” Balzor agreed. “And our city leader, Alhandra, agrees and sends his congratulations as well. But, my bitter ones, we must always be on the lookout. There are still a couple of churches in our sector that are preaching the Word. Every week a few more people find out the Truth and are saved from the dark eternity that awaits most of their neighbors.
“We've almost done it. Almost. Just a few more years like the last twenty out of the government, the media, the movies, the records, and the unsaved ministers, and then virtually every city in America will be as dark as night, twenty-four hours a day! These people are so confused! It is truly fantastic. To think how simple it would be for them to beat us, if only they could grasp it! And to think of the lies we have to weave in their lives to keep them from it. You are to be congratulated for the work you have done, particularly with this last generation. We really have almost done it. Our task is to keep destroying these local families, while others work on the nation's leaders, in the government and in business. With this two-pronged attack, we cannot lose!”
The demons left that night feeling better than they had in weeks and prepared to take up their positions for Sunday morning, when there were always special duties to perform to distract families from attending church.
SUNDAY, MAY 14 – “And does anybody have any prayer requests for this week?” asked Glenn Jamison, the youth minister at Morningside Church. Several of the more than eighty students—they had averaged only about twenty each week a year ago�
��raised their hands.
The group had finished the morning's lesson on Lazarus and the rich man, from Luke 16. Glenn had pointed out that this was one of several times in the Bible when Jesus himself referred to hell and to the choice people had to make. It had been a difficult lesson, but the kids, as usual, responded with serious attention when he treated them with respect and demanded the same from them. Most of the kids really liked Glenn's combination of playfulness and seriousness, and this had been one of the serious times.
“Yes?” he said, as Bobbie raised her hand.
“I know someone at my school who is pregnant, and I want us all to pray for her and for her baby.”
Thomas Briggs, sitting next to Bobbie, was surprised by her request, and he wondered who it might be.
After several additional prayer requests, the group broke up. Some of the students went to the sanctuary to attend the main service. Others left in groups for an early lunch together. Bobbie lingered behind and buttonholed Glenn as he neared the door.
“Glenn, the girl I asked the prayer request for…Do you think you could meet with her and me and one other friend to discuss her alternatives?”
“Of course, Bobbie.” Glenn put down the books he was carrying. “When would you like to get together?”
“How about one day this week, uh, say maybe Wednesday? Would you mind if we came to your office? She's afraid that someone will overhear the conversation in a more crowded place.”
“Sure, Bobbie, Wednesday will be fine.”
“Thanks, Glenn. She's very confused about what to do, and I'm afraid the rest of us haven't had any experience with this. We'll see you about 4:00 in your office, and I'll call if there is any change.” Bobbie hurried off to join her parents for the 11:15 service. Quite often she joined her friends for lunch at this time, after the youth group meeting, but this week she felt the need to worship and to pray with her family. And the sermons of their pastor, Reverend Michael Andrews, usually inspired her. She at least had always understood his sermons, which had not been true of his predecessor.
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