Tears in a Bottle

by Sylvia Bambola

  She bent over the flowers and pulled off the florist’s card. “Roses are red, violets are blue, I think I could conquer the world if I had you. Love, Kirt.” He always seemed to be there when she needed him, his funny cards, his flowers, his voice on the phone. She unlocked her door, then scooped up the bouquet and brought it inside.

  She deposited the flowers and her purse on the kitchen counter and dialed the phone. She held her breath until she heard the click of the receiver on the other end.

  “The flowers are lovely. Thanks, I needed that.”

  “Rough day?”

  “Ummm. And yours?”

  “My fists are sore from duking it out with some of my peers in the Assembly.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “A few of my esteemed colleagues are trying to create a catchall piece of legislation that will incorporate DNA identification, falsely reporting a bomb on school grounds, stalking, clinic access, and religious freedom.”

  “No.”

  “I kid you not.”

  “Sounds like I should have sent you roses.”

  “Your voice will do just fine. Thanks for calling. Now tell me about your day.”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay, then you’ll have to sit through one of my jokes. Did I tell you the one about three boys in a schoolyard?”

  Maggie smiled, then closed her eyes as she listened to Kirt. She tried to visualize his face, the arch of his eyebrows, the tilt of his head. She missed him so very very much.

  Becky sat curled on the front seat of the car, as far from Skip as she could get, her back against the door. The door handle jammed into her spine, but she didn’t change position. Her eyes were swollen from crying most of the night. Around 3 A.M. she had changed her wet pillowcase, but in no time it was wet again. Around four her thoughts turned to Skip. How was she going to tell him? What would he say? She had wondered if he’d want to marry her. Then decided, not likely. Then realized she didn’t want to marry him.

  Her parents had said little to her this morning. Her father hadn’t even looked at her when she left, not even to give her his two-second inspection, which he always did, as though he needed to stamp his seal of approval on her whenever she went out into the world. Well, his seal of approval had been revoked. Of that there was no doubt.

  Becky looked over at Skip, so eager, so carefree. He hadn’t even noticed how grotesque she looked from her sleepless night, that her eyes were sunken and puffy. Was he thinking it would be just like always? Just another fun afternoon in the backseat? As she watched him look out into their secluded thicket, she felt a twinge of hatred. His smooth bright face looked so relaxed, so rested. His lips curled into an easy smile; not a hint of red anywhere in his eyes. Suddenly the injustice of it all overwhelmed her. Was she the only one who had to cry? She curled her feet underneath her, shrinking into an even smaller ball. All the way to Lover’s Cove she had been trying to string together the right words, the right way to tell Skip. She had tried to think how she could soften it, how to make it easier. Now, she didn’t want to make it easy.

  “I’m pregnant,” Becky said, so matter-of-factly it startled her.

  Skip spun around, jamming his knee into the steering column. “What?”

  “I’m pregnant.” She stared defiantly at him.

  “How? How did that happen?”

  “How should I know! Maybe that emergency stash of yours was just too old or maybe it was defective.”

  Skip’s face reddened. “You know, Becky, that’s not fair. You’re putting all this on me. You could’ve taken some responsibility, you know. You could’ve taken the pill or something. Why did it always have to fall on my shoulders?”

  “This is a rather silly argument now, don’t you think? I mean, it’s done.”

  “What are your plans?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, Becky, come on. What are you going to do about…about the pregnancy?”

  Becky could feel the tears begin to well up. “I don’t know. I thought we should discuss it.”

  “What’s to discuss? It’s your body, it’s your choice.”

  “Now isn’t that a nice little cop-out!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s your baby too.”

  Skip began rubbing the knee he had just injured. “It’s not a baby yet, Becky, it’s just tissue. And I don’t think we should let a little tissue ruin our lives, do you?”

  “So you’re saying I should get an abortion?”

  “It’s the sensible thing. Neither one of us is ready for marriage, and we both have college to think about.”

  “I don’t know if I can handle an abortion. It scares me, Skip, and deep down—”

  “You do what you want. Okay? But if you’re asking me for advice, I’m telling you you’re crazy if you don’t get an abortion. You can’t seriously be considering having this kid? How are you going to support it? I can’t help. Even with the scholarship, I’ll have to work part-time. You’re not thinking straight at all.”

  Becky slumped against the seat. “I guess not.”

  “Tommy’s girl went through this, and she’s all right. Nothing happened to her.”

  “Loraine had an abortion?”

  “Yeah. Remember when I told you he was having all that trouble with his dad? Well, it was really Loraine. Tommy made me promise not to tell. Loraine didn’t want an abortion either. She wanted to get married. But Tommy finally talked some sense into her and everything’s fine now. She had it and she’s okay.”

  “But Tommy and Loraine have split up.”

  “That’s my point. It shows you how wrong Loraine was. She wasn’t ready for marriage and neither was Tommy. Now she’s dating another guy, and it’s better for everyone. Everyone’s happy. See how things work out?”

  Becky closed her eyes. She felt utterly exhausted.

  “When this is all over, you’ll see that you did the right thing for everyone.” Skip leaned closer and put his hand on her ankle. “I’ll get the name of that doctor that did Loraine, then we’ll put this all behind us.” His hand slid up her leg. “If you want, I could help you relax a little.”

  Becky uncurled her leg to push his hand away, but kicked his injured knee instead.

  “What!” Skip said, rubbing his knee. “What did you do that for?”

  Becky just looked at him and said nothing.

  “Man, that hurts! And the playoffs start this week. Coach’ll be mad if I’m not out there giving it my best.”

  “I’m sorry. It was an accident,” she said weakly.

  “Sometimes, Becky, you’re so careless.”

  “Did Skip give you the name of that doctor yet?” Paula asked, lounging on her yellow Laura Ashley-ensembled bed.

  “Yes.” Becky sat curled on the companion patterned loveseat.

  “Are you going?”

  “No. My dad said he doesn’t want me to go there. He said he has the name of the best clinic in Brockston and that’s where I’m to go.”

  “At least you have your dad looking out for you. You’re really lucky. A lot of dads wouldn’t be this helpful.”

  “I guess.”

  Paula rose from the bed, walked over to where Becky was sitting, and plopped down on the matching stuffed chair. “You don’t seem very grateful. I mean, your parents could’ve been really hard on you. I mean really, Becky, think about it. Most parents would’ve had a hissy fit. I still don’t know how you could’ve been so stupid.”

  “So what do you want from me? It’s done, isn’t it!”

  “You don’t have to bite my head off. I know your hormones are all messed up, but you don’t have to take it out on me.”

  Tears began running down Becky’s face.

  Paula got up and retrieved the tissue box. “Here.”

  Becky grabbed a handful and wiped her eyes, then blew her nose. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I feel so lousy, and all I do is cry.”

  “You’re pregnant
, that’s what’s the matter.”

  “Paula, would you think I was crazy…would you believe me if I told you I don’t want this abortion?”

  “You can’t be serious. You have your whole life ahead of you. You want to ruin it?”

  “I’m just so scared. I think about it all the time. I’m so scared.”

  Paula threw the box of tissues on the floor, then pushed them closer to the love seat with her foot. “I heard it was nothing. Just a simple procedure. Someone told me it was like scraping plaque off your teeth.”

  “You think so? I don’t know—”

  “Don’t think about it so much. That’s your problem, you think too much. You’ve always thought about things too much.”

  Becky laughed a sardonic laugh. “Yeah, except when it counted. Why didn’t I think a little more then?”

  Paula shrugged. “You notice how it’s always the girl that takes the fall? How come no one is asking Skip why he didn’t do a little more thinking?”

  “Yeah. It stinks.”

  “Just like this room.”

  “What?”

  “It’s so feminine, so predictable. It’s what you’d think a girl’s room should be. It’s the same as a girl acting a certain way, the way people expect her to act.”

  “You’re babbling, Paula.”

  “No, listen. I’m saying something important. It’s like a girl who lets her guard down, once, just once, because she’s so crazy in love with a guy. Then the guy turns out to be a jerk. But now everyone thinks she’s easy, because that’s what the jerk tells them. So when she’s with other guys, they start expecting things. Things she doesn’t want to do. But it’s out of her control now. Because it’s expected, you see. And she goes along, and that, of course, reinforces what everyone thinks anyway, and then there’s more expectations. It’s like you’re in a trap and don’t know how to get out. Are you getting what I’m saying?”

  Becky nodded slowly and handed the box of tissues to Paula when she saw her friend’s tears. “How did we end up like this?”

  Becky knocked softly on the door marked Guidance Counselor. It had taken her two days to get the courage to make an appointment to see Mr. Harding. She knew the kids all liked him and considered him cool, easy to talk to. She needed that. An adult who would be easy to talk to. An adult she could trust with her secret and maybe help her feel better about what she was planning to do. She didn’t know anyone other than Mr. Harding who could fit that bill.

  The door opened and a smiling youthful face peered out. “Come in, Becky. Come in.” With his hand he gently guided her in and directed her to take a chair. Then he took the one next to hers rather than going back to sit behind his desk. “Before you came, I checked your grades and saw that you’re doing very well. I also understand that congratulations are in order. You’re the only student this year to be accepted to Georgetown. Your parents must be very proud.”

  Becky bit the inside of her mouth. She just couldn’t cry. Please not now, not here. But even so, tears began to roll down her cheeks.

  Mr. Harding pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. He allowed her to cry and just sat quietly patting her shoulder.

  Finally, Becky looked into the kind, caring face. “I’m pregnant.”

  The way Mr. Harding bobbed his head up and down made Becky wonder how many times he had heard this. He rose quickly and went to his desk. “I understand. You don’t want your parents to know, but you need advice on who to see.” He opened a drawer and fumbled among the papers, then pulled out a card, walked back to the chair and handed it to her. “This is the best abortion clinic in town. If you need transportation, I can arrange it. And if you do it on school time, I can get you excused from your classes. Your parents will never have to know.”

  Becky stared horrified at her counselor. “You don’t understand. My parents do know. My dad…my dad has already made arrangements.”

  Mr. Harding frowned and sat down. “Then you’re right, I don’t understand, Becky. What’s the problem?”

  “I don’t know if I want an abortion. It seems wrong somehow. It seems—”

  “Now you listen, Becky. We’re not talking about a moral issue here. We’re talking about a procedure…just a little procedure. A little tissue gets scraped away. There’s nothing wrong about that. You’re making too much of it. You have to look at the realities. You’re young, unmarried, on your way to college and the rest of your life. Don’t you want the rest of your life, Becky? You owe yourself that.”

  “Yes, I guess—”

  “And Georgetown? How many kids get into Georgetown? That’s not an opportunity you can throw away.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “There are no ‘buts,’ Becky. You’re a smart girl with a bright future. If you don’t have an abortion, you’ll be letting yourself down and your parents too. What about them? You already said your father made arrangements. That means he’s in favor of you doing the right thing. You have to consider his wishes. This thing could ruin all your lives.”

  Becky pressed the handkerchief to her face again. Why was it clear to everyone but her what the right thing was? “Yes, of course,” she finally said. “Of course you must be right.”

  Mr. Harding sat back in his chair and nodded. “I am right, Becky, and time will bear me out. Years from now, when you look back on this whole thing, you’ll wonder why you made such a fuss.”

  6

  “CANON EDWARDS?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  “A friend.”

  “I ain’t got no friends.”

  “You’ve got a few.”

  “Say, who is this?”

  “I told you, a friend…actually a friend of a friend.”

  “You got somethin’ wrong with your mouth, mister? You sound funny.”

  “No…I’m…I’m just upset. This friend of ours…I can’t name names…but this mutual friend says I can trust you. She says you’ll know what to do.”

  “What friend? I told you I ain’t got…you say a woman gave you my number? Was it Maggie? Now why would Maggie go and give you my number?”

  “Because she thinks you can help me.”

  “Maggie wants me to help you?”

  “She said you would, that you’d know just what to do.”

  Thor could hear the sound of Canon lighting a cigarette, then heard him take a deep drag. After that, complete silence.

  “Canon? Are you there?”

  “Don’t know why I bother with these, just nails in my coffin. Prison does that. Gives you bad habits.”

  Thor heard Cannon fumble the phone, then make an irritating scraping sound. He pictured the ex-con smoking his cigarette in a small dirty room, gazing out a grease-stained window. Thor thought he heard the creaking of bedsprings.

  “Canon? Why don’t you answer? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “I’m in trouble and I need help.”

  “I ain’t in the habit of helpin’ people I don’t know.”

  “Well, Maggie thought—”

  “You just said we shouldn’t mention her name, so why you keep sayin’ it?”

  “Sorry. I’m upset. It’s my daughter…she was butchered at the Brockston Clinic. Dr. Newly did it. They say she’s not the first. She’s in bad shape. In the hospital now. They don’t know if she’ll live or die. I have money. I can pay you. I can pay whatever you want. Only you have to do something about those people there. You have to do something about Dr. Newly. You have to scare him or something—”

  “Why did you let her go?”

  “What? Well…I didn’t know she was going for an abortion. I only found out later, when the hospital called.” Thor heard Canon curse.

  “Don’t you people know nothin’? Don’t you know how to love and protect your kids and keep ’em out of the hands of monsters like this Newly fella?”

  “I’ve got money. I can pay you anything you ask. Only please, you’ve got to stop this monster
from ever doing anything like this again. Just name your—”

  “Let me call Maggie first.”

  “No! You can’t call her. Don’t you see, if you do you’ll make her an accomplice. And you don’t want to do that. Think of the Center, of all her hard work.” Thor could hear the phone being fumbled again.

  “Maggie never approved of the way I did things. Why should she tell you to call me?”

  “Well—”

  “Unless she does approve. You tryin’ to tell me that mister? You tryin’ to tell me that Maggie understands what I do?”

  “Well—”

  “I guess it’s possible. I mean, why would she tell you to call me? Course she could never tell me that, on account of the Center and all. The law would shut her down. Then what would happen to all those frightened, hurtin’ girls? Yeah, I guess she really must understand. If she told you to call, I mean. You got twenty thousand dollars?”

  “Well…yes—”

  “I know that’s askin’ a lot, mister, but after I do what I gotta do, then I gotta leave town and I’ll need me some cash.”

  “I’ll put it in a locker at the bus station, along with Newly’s schedule. I…I’ll do some checking and find out when he’s at the clinic. After you pick up the cash, I’ll expect you to do your part.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “What…what will you do?”

  “You leave that to me. I’ll do what I gotta.”

  “Well…all right. But I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Just scare Dr. Newly a little, maybe threaten him so he’ll leave town.”

  “You want me to do this or not, mister?”

  “Yes, of course—”

  “Then stop askin’ questions and let me be. I said I’d do what I gotta.”

  “Well, yes…okay, you handle it. I’ll need your address, though, so I can mail you the key to the locker.”

  Canon rattled off his address. “Just do me a favor. Don’t tell Maggie you talked to me. You’re right…we gotta leave her outta this.”