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On the Edge

Page 15

by Parker Hudson


  That night, tossing in her bed, Amy had to admit that Glenn's argument, too, like Mrs. Simpson's, made a lot of sense. She felt like a knot was tied around her heart, and the confusion in her mind was pulling it tighter and tighter. She fought to stay in control, but she often found herself just wanting to cry and to run away.

  FRIDAY, MAY 19 – On Friday, Richard called Bruce, without first consulting with Janet, or with anyone else, and told him that he would go ahead and guarantee their loan, as part of a foursome. Bruce replied that one of the men had refused, but the other two were in and that these two had strong financial statements. Richard thought about it for another moment, and decided that the risk was virtually the same, but he might as well ask. “Well, and I don't want you to think that I'm being greedy, but if the three of us help you carry the ball, wouldn't it be fair to increase our fee to $66,000 each?”

  There was silence on the line for a few moments. Then Bruce, who knew he was over a barrel, said, “Sure, Richard. That's fair. We had expected to pay $200,000 to get this loan, so we might as well make it worthwhile for each of you. It's a deal.”

  “Good. Then, to show you that I've earned the extra amount, I'll prepare the papers, gratis, and have them over to your office in a couple of days. OK?”

  “Sounds great to me, Richard. And David and I really appreciate it. Just don't take too long on the papers because we've got to get that loan as quickly as possible.”

  “No problem,” said Richard, hanging up the phone.

  SATURDAY, MAY 20 – That warm Saturday afternoon, Susan had challenged Janet to a tennis game, and the men decided to have a game as well. So all four of the Sullivans walked down to the courts at the park in the middle of Devon Drive.

  Between sets, when Janet and Susan were sitting and watching Richard and Tommy play, Susan said, “Now, Mom, don't freak! I'm not asking for me…but we've been studying in biology, and I wondered what you think about abortions.”

  Janet looked closely at Susan, trying to read her expression, to see if it really was for her, but she could only see an honest question—one that Janet had not exactly expected, however.

  “Well, I think that women have the right to choose what's best for their bodies. Sometimes it's just not right or convenient to bring a baby into the world, so an abortion is the best thing. I guess it's regrettable, but sometimes necessary.”

  Susan, who had of course been present and heard what Glenn and Bobbie had said and had been thinking a lot about it herself, asked, “Why is it regrettable, if it's OK?”

  “I…uh…maybe that was a poor choice of words. But I guess our reproductive systems were set up to have children, so I just mean it's regrettable when one has to be stopped.”

  “Do you think it's wrong? Does God make us and somehow know us before we are born? Is the fetus a live baby?”

  “No…no Susan. I don't know about God making us. Sometimes I look around this world and wonder how there could be a God. I certainly don't think that He fashions each one of us. The fetus is just tissue until it can breathe and live on its own. It's not wrong to have an abortion…It's just sort of regrettable.”

  “Well, if God doesn't make us, and there may not be a God, then what is the purpose of life? Why are we here anyway?” Susan pressed, emboldened by the faith she had seen recently in Bobbie.

  “Wow! You've been studying more than biology!” Janet smiled, and Susan looked down at her racquet. “I don't know, Susan. I think we're just here. To live and to love each other as best we can. To have kids and to raise them and to do the best we are able. To improve the world and make it a better place for all of us to live. I certainly don't believe that God, if He even exists, gets involved in individual lives with some individual purpose. He certainly never has done that in mine.”

  Susan was struck by the difference between her mother's belief and that of Bobbie and Glenn. For the first time in her life she questioned whether her mother really had it together in her belief system. How could it be that there is no purpose to life, other than to exist and to procreate? I want there to be purpose! she thought. I want to think that Someone is in charge. I'm almost seventeen, and I don't want to think that I'm growing up for nothing! Mom must have missed something. I better ask some other people. Maybe Dad.

  She said to her mother, “Well, I hear you, but it's hard to imagine that there is no God, and no real purpose to life.”

  “I didn't say that there's no purpose to life. It's just that we have to make it ourselves…I hope that someday you'll meet a good man and you'll fall in love and have kids and raise them well. That's the purpose to life…All right!” Janet smiled again. “Enough philosophy. Let's get back to tennis. You're still young. Maybe you'll find more purpose than I have. But don't count on it.”

  By Saturday evening, Amy was still in mental agony, with the pressure growing on her to make her decision. Billy picked her up at home, and he took her to a quiet continental restaurant—decidedly a cut above their previous dates—for dinner.

  After ordering and catching up on small talk, Amy recounted for Billy the arguments she had heard for and against abortion and adoption.

  Billy did not jump in immediately, but over the course of their meal together, he repeated his strong position for her to have the abortion. He went back through all of the arguments that both he and Mrs. Simpson had used previously. And Amy had to agree, particularly with no other voice in her head, that he and the school nurse certainly made perfect sense. It really was the wrong time and the wrong situation for her to have a baby, particularly one that neither she nor Billy wanted.

  Over dessert, he pushed her for a decision. “Amy, you know an abortion is the right thing. You have no business having a baby now. Neither you nor I want our parents to know. I know you think an abortion is best. Please agree now, and make an appointment with the school nurse on Monday so we can put this behind us.”

  Her emotional turmoil had become almost intolerable. Already the changes in her body were giving her pause, and they even scared her a bit. Without Susan or Bobbie there, she only heard Billy, and he made so much sense. “OK…yes. OK…” she nodded her head and tears filled her eyes. “Yes, I'll get the abortion. I'll see Mrs. Simpson on Monday, and I'll do it on Friday. God help me if this is wrong, but I'll do it.”

  And right then, even with Billy there in a restaurant full of people, she had never felt so alone in her life. She hugged herself, suddenly overcome by a cold chill that enveloped her.

  MONDAY, MAY 22 – Monday morning, before she even saw Susan or Bobbie, Amy went to the nurse's office and told her decision to Mrs. Simpson. The nurse walked over and put her arm around Amy's shoulder. “That's fine, Amy, I'm sure you've done the right thing. Come back after lunch, and I'll have the forms all prepared. But I'll go ahead and call the clinic and schedule you for Friday morning. The cost, by the way, is $350, and the clinic typically is paid immediately after the procedure. Will that be a problem?” Amy shook her head. “And will you want Bobbie and Susan to go with you? It's fine, but I'll have to write excuses for them as well.”

  “Yes, I do,” said Amy. “I imagine that Susan will join me, but I'm not sure Bobbie will go to the clinic. Neither of them knows about my decision yet, but I'll let you know how many of us will go.”

  At lunch that day, at a table by themselves, Amy was about to tell Susan and Bobbie her decision. The three of them had not really talked all weekend. The other two girls had been on dates with Drew and Thomas, who were fast becoming steadies with them. Then on Sunday, Amy had driven with her parents to visit her grandmother on her birthday, and Bobbie had gone with her youth group to a late afternoon movie. So this lunch was the first time they had seen each other in a couple of days.

  “I've made my decision,” Amy announced, once they sat down. “It hasn't been easy, and I completely understand both sides, but I've decided that this is not the time for me to have a baby, and so I'm going to have the abortion, and I've already scheduled it for this Fri
day with Mrs. Simpson.”

  It was as if a great burden was being lifted from her, almost as if she had not really made the decision until she actually told her best friends. Now it was out, and her course was set. Susan's reaction was mainly one of relief. She, like Amy, had heard and understood both sides of the argument. She was just glad that it was Amy making the decision, and not herself. Either way, she was now relieved, just to know.

  “Do you want us to come with you to the clinic?” asked Susan, indicating her support for her friend.

  “Yes, very much. Mrs. Simpson says it's OK. She can arrange it.” Silently, Amy looked at Bobbie. Bobbie was looking down at her lunch, but not feeling very hungry. Both of the other girls could see the anguish and the pain on her face.

  “Amy, I…I…you know I think you have made the wrong decision. Now I just don't know what to do, if you are set on an abortion. I love you and want to support you. But I don't know if I can go to an abortion clinic and help you have one. It's an impossible decision I have to make. I know I have to pray about it, and I'll try to tell you something later this week. I wish I could ask my parents about it,” raising her hand as Amy started to speak, “but I understand that I can't. So, like you, I'll have to make this decision on my own. This really has been a great couple of weeks, hasn't it?” She tried to smile, as tears filled her eyes.

  The professional baseball team in their city had a rare afternoon game that Monday at 4:00, and Richard bought tickets for Tommy and himself. Richard had cleared his calendar, and even picked Tommy up on time as school let out.

  Following Janet's advice, he did not push Tommy on any particular subjects. He decided simply to spend time with his son. She had even cautioned him that morning to be prepared for a few jabs from Tommy. After all, he was an adolescent, and all adolescents had to rebel. In Tommy's case, there was apparently some pain inside that needed venting. So Richard had decided to be ready to roll with the punches and not to strike back, no matter what Tommy said.

  Somewhat to the surprise of both of them, they actually had a wonderful afternoon together, sitting in the spring sunshine, eating peanuts, and watching their team play last year's division leader.

  “That's one thing your grandfather used to always tell me about baseball, Tommy,” Richard said early in the game. “Every spring it starts over again. There's a new beginning and everybody thinks their team will win the pennant. Last year is forgotten and hope springs eternal!” As he was saying it, Richard was hoping that the same could be true about their relationship.

  In the sixth inning, Tommy just missed a high pop foul ball, which bounced three rows behind them. They shared analyses of the players and of the strategies being employed by the managers. Richard told Tommy about an old girlfriend of his in high school, whom a girl two rows in front of them reminded him of. Near the end of the game, Tommy finally loosened up and was able to laugh about his own game, a month earlier, when he had hoped to play in the infield, but hadn't. “I guess I'm just an outfielder,” he tentatively joked about himself to his father, “so I'll have to develop big muscles and start hitting lots of homers across the fence.”

  Richard smiled and agreed. “You know, it's funny how in Little League the infielders get all the notoriety, but in the majors, it's the outfielders who typically win the games for their team. You're exactly right.” By the end of the day, the father and son had experienced more eye contact and discussed more things than in the past three months. The only negative thing about the day was that their team lost a close one, four to three in the ninth.

  Driving home from the game, Tommy suddenly asked his father, “Dad, what do you think about homosexuals?”

  That was certainly a question for which Richard had not prepared, but he reminded himself to roll with the punches. “Why do you ask, son?”

  “Like, you know, we studied homosexuality in our health class several weeks ago, and then two of them came in and talked to us about their lifestyles, and, I don't know, I just thought I'd ask you.”

  “Well, I don't know. I guess I really never thought about them much. They're obviously people, just like us, some good, some bad. I've never really been able to figure out whether it's something caused by heredity, or by environment, or by friends, or what. I guess it just is an alternative lifestyle. I wouldn't want anyone in our family to be a homosexual, because I think that, no matter what the Gay Rights people say, it's a tough life. And of course this AIDS thing is rampant in the homosexual community, killing many of them. I don't think they should be persecuted, but I also don't think special laws should be written for them. Like many things in life, it's a complex question, and I'm not sure that I have a clear answer one way or the other. I guess it depends on the individual situation and on the individual person.”

  Richard's answer might have been perfect for an intellectual debate among adults, but unfortunately it was not really what Tommy needed or wanted to hear right then. He yearned for his father to say something definite, so he could hold on to some fixed point in his rapidly spinning social world. Unknowingly, Richard had given the worst answer he could for his fourteen-year-old son. He had thrown the issue back on Tommy to decide, and Tommy on his own was no match for the forces aligned against him.

  TUESDAY, MAY 23 – “Glenn, I just don't know what to do,” Bobbie repeated into the telephone on Tuesday afternoon, after school. She had explained Amy's decision to have the abortion. Now she was trying to decide whether to support her friend or to refuse to go to the abortion clinic on Friday. “I've promised Amy that I won't talk to my parents—you're the only one I can turn to. What do you think?”

  “This is about as tough as they come, Bobbie,” Glenn hesitated, hoping for inspiration. “Obviously we have to pray. Do you mind if I alert our prayer warrior team, only mentioning her first name, of course?”

  “Please, yes. Please do. She's scheduled for first thing on Friday morning.”

  “Bobbie, I guess if it were me, I'd want to be with my friend. But I don't think I could help her do something which I believed to be so wrong. For her sake you couldn't openly pray or disrupt what was happening at the clinic—you'd just have to be part of it. What a tough choice. But I just can't see you going to an abortion clinic, even with Amy.” Glenn hoped that he was right.

  “Well, I'll pray again tonight and make my decision in the morning. Thanks a lot for your help. And do call the Prayer Warrior team.” Bobbie hung up and thought how simple her life of only a month ago now seemed.

  WEDNESDAY, MAY 24 – Richard and his paralegal had prepared the unconditional joint and several guarantees which the bank needed for the McKinney and Smith loan. Bruce and David had secured the signatures of the other two guarantors that Wednesday morning, and now the three of them were meeting at the bank for the loan closing.

  As a final precaution before leaving for the bank, Richard had called Patrick Tomlinson's attorney, Marty Tsongas, without disclosing the real reason for his call. “Everything is on track with the estate settlement,” Marty had assured him.

  Within forty minutes all of the documents had been signed and approved by the bank officer and his attorney. The banker, William Butler, gave Bruce a check for $500,000, and they shook hands. “I hope these funds will help continue the success we all have seen from you guys,” he concluded in his most friendly banker's voice.

  “Can we borrow your conference room for a few minutes?” Richard asked William. Once he was alone with Bruce and David, he pulled out another folder and placed the papers in front of them. “These are the individual notes to secure the fees owed to each of your three guarantors, payable at the time of the Tomlinson capital investment. They are just like the drafts I faxed to you, so please read them over and then sign them.”

  Back in his office thirty minutes later, Richard put his own note into the safe and congratulated himself on earning $66,000 so easily.

  “Amy, I just can't do it,” Bobbie said at lunch that day, the pain obvious to her two friends. �
�I know you think it's just because that's what I've been taught. But this situation has made it all very real to me. I really do believe that there is a baby inside you and that it is wrong to kill him or her. I pray that you will reconsider. In fact, I plan to be praying for you and for your baby that morning. I want to support you. I love you, but I can't help you do this.” She paused and looked out at the gathering stormclouds through the tall cafeteria windows. “I've been a mess ever since Monday, not to mention the last two weeks. But I just can't go with you to an abortion clinic. I'm sorry, but I can't. I hope you can understand.” Tears filled her eyes, and she wiped them quickly, hoping that no one else in the cafeteria would notice.

  “Bobbie, I know what an impossible decision it was for me, so I can't be upset with you. For me, it's not a ‘baby’—it's a fetus, something that is not yet really alive and something that no one wants. So I'm going to get rid of it. And then hope that I won't make the same mistake again. God knows I'll be more careful next time!” Amy's last statement reminded Susan that Amy had taken a huge step, separating her from her two friends. “Susan and I will go to the clinic on Friday morning. I know you want to help. I'll see you right after it's over. And don't worry—I feel like everything is going to work out OK.”

  For you, Bobbie thought, but then she caught herself being spiteful to her friend, and her emotions took another dip on the rollercoaster. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to clear her head and stop her tears.

  “I'm meeting Billy after school, and he's going to give me the money to pay for it,” added Amy. “I still hope my parents will go away this weekend, but so far they're planning to stay home. I may need you guys to take me out and to run interference for me. We'll figure it all out on Friday afternoon, after it's over.”

 

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