Subject: pour your heart out
kia,
no one else reads my mail. how about yours? would u rather we met in person, or talked on the phone?
T.O.Y. = thinking of you
justin
From: Kia
To: Justin
Date: Jan. 11
Subject: Re: pour your heart out
justin,
it’s ok. my parents respect my privacy. they think they’re the perfect parents, remember? lol.
so here it goes. (i’m taking a deep breath here.)
i’m an idiot.
i hate myself and ...
i’m pregnant.
there, I said it. funny thing tho, i don’t feel any better yet.
kia (IBK)
From: Justin
To: Kia
Date: Jan. 11
Subject: no more put-downs!!
ok, you’re pregnant. it happens. you’re in shock, i understand, but you’re not a bad person and u’re not a stupid person. i don’t want 2 hear anymore of that kind of crap, ok? u’re just pregnant. so, give me some more details. who’s the guy? u don’t have 2 answer that but tell me this — is he there for u? have u talked 2 a doc, your parents, the rev? i can borrow a car most evenings. why don’t i come over so we can talk face 2 face or we could go somewhere?
T.O.Y.
justin
IBK? what’s that?
From: Kia
To: Justin
Date: Jan. 11
Subject: Re: no more put-downs!!
justin,
it’s ok. e-mail works — i don’t want 2 take any more of your time. the guy’s name’s not important — he’s a jerk. (i figured that out just a little 2 late!!!) i’ve talked 2 a doctor, had a lab test, it was confirmed. i’ve got an appointment for counseling the day after tomorrow. i can probably get the “procedure” to “terminate the pregnancy” (that’s what they call it) next week. i just want to get it over with. my parents don’t know. they’re cool, they wouldn’t freak or anything, but ... i just don’t want them 2 know. they’d be so disappointed in me. i haven’t even told my best friend. i’m 2 ashamed of myself. you’re the only one I’m telling. lucky u! so, as u can see, everything is taken care of. (so why do i feel so horrible?)
kia
(IBK = Idiot Behind Keyboard)
From: Justin
To: Kia
Date: Jan. 11
Subject: I’ll be there
kia,
it sounds like u are being responsible. u always did seem older than u are. i’m sorry you’re feeling horrible. i want u 2 tell me what day ‘the procedure’ is being done. i’m going 2 swap days off work if i have 2 so i can come with u, and i won’t take no for an answer, unless “he” (the jerk) is going with u and you’re comfortable with that. i won’t interfere if that’s the case. otherwise, i’m there, got it?
are you volunteering at the home tomorrow? will I see you then?
hugs
justin
From: Kia
To: Justin
Date: Jan. 11
Subject: Thank you
i’ll b there tomorrow. talk to u then.
kia
Kia walked into the sunroom of the seniors’ home. It was hot, stuffy, and the human smells mixed with the sharp odor of cleaning solutions made her stomach roll. She felt faint, and quickly pulled her sweater off. There was a dozen or so seniors sitting in the room, some napping in their wheelchairs, some staring out the window, and a few sitting in groups. She spotted Justin. He was perched on the edge of a table, talking to a shriveled old man in a wheelchair. There was a blanket over the man’s legs, an oxygen tank strapped to his chair, and a clear tube running up to his nose. The old man tilted his head back and gave a hearty laugh at something Justin said. Kia was amazed that such a loud sound could come from such a frail body.
Justin spotted Kia and quickly crossed the room and pulled her into a huge hug. The gesture overwhelmed her, and she had to wipe her eyes when he let her go.
“I think your gang is waiting in the parlor for you,” he said, smiling down at her.
She nodded. “You haven’t changed the name of that room yet?” she teased half-heartedly. The smallest things had been irritating her lately. “Couldn’t we call it the music room?”
“Call it whatever you like, Kia, as long as you keep playing the piano. Your visit is the highlight of the week for many of our residents.”
Kia nodded, feeling slightly guilty that the only reason she kept coming was to earn the community service points that she needed for school.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Lousy.”
“Then I’m extra proud of you for coming today. And you’re coming to Youth Group this week, right?”
She nodded.
“Okay, then let’s go. Time to astound them with your talent.” Justin walked her down the corridor and pushed the door to the parlor open. “Ladies and gentleman,” he said, stepping into the room and winking at the only man present, “may I present Kia Hazelwood, pianist extraordinaire, returning to Willows for a repeat engagement. Let’s show her a true Willows welcome!”
The assembled group of senior citizens clapped, while Kia, blushing, stepped up to the piano. She pulled a book out of her bag, placed it on the piano and pushed up her sleeves. She began to play and quickly became lost in the music. Playing one song after another, she paused only long enough to turn the pages in her book. She didn’t make eye contact with any of the seniors, nor did she acknowledge their applause. She was determined to do her job and get out of there. After half an hour she closed her book, quietly thanked the audience and started toward the door, but she felt a hand reach out and grab her arm as she tried to leave. She looked down, appalled to see that the hand grasping her arm was gnarled and misshapen. She looked into the eyes of a woman in a wheelchair, and was startled to see tears glistening in them.
“That was lovely, Kia. You are a fine pianist.”
“Thank you.” She smiled politely, pulled her arm away and tried again to leave.
“You played with a lot more expression today,” the old woman continued.
Kia turned back to her, surprised. “I did?”
“Oh yes. It was like you dug way deeper, discovered the emotion in yourself and expressed it in your performance. You didn’t just play the notes.”
“Huh.”
“And you also chose a more somber selection today,” she said, her eyes probing Kia’s.
“Really.” Kia looked away. “I wasn’t aware of that.”
“My name’s Grace,” the old woman said, stretching out her hand to shake Kia’s.
Kia hoped Grace didn’t see her recoil at the sight of that hand again. She gently held it and allowed Grace to shake hers.
“I used to play the piano too,” Grace continued, “though not nearly as well as you.”
Kia knew she must have looked surprised, because Grace laughed and carried on.
“My hands didn’t always look like this, dear,” she said. “In fact, I used to be rather proud of them. I had long slim fingers, much like yours.” Her eyes took on a faraway expression.
Justin came into the room at that moment, to Kia’s relief. “Ah, I see my two favorite ladies have met,” he said, placing his hands on Grace’s shoulders.
“Yes, Justin, I was just telling Kia that she played particularly well today.”
Justin nodded. “I bet Kia needed a compliment today too.”
“It wasn’t just an empty compliment, she really did,” Grace insisted. “And she created a very melancholy mood. It brought tears to my eyes.”
“Good music always makes me cry too,” Justin said, smiling gently at Grace. “So, did you two introduce yourselves?”
&n
bsp; “We did,” Grace answered.
“But did you tell Kia your nickname?”
“Oh Justin, of course not.”
Kia watched as Grace’s pale cheeks flushed.
“Well, Kia,” Justin said, “we call Grace Graceful, just because she is.”
Kia couldn’t think of a more inappropriate nickname for a woman who looked like she was crippled with arthritis, but she smiled and nodded anyway. Grace was shaking her head at Justin, but she was smiling too.
“I’ve got to go, Justin,” Kia said. “Nice meeting you, Grace. I’ll see you next week.”
“I’m looking forward to it, Kia. Perhaps by then you’ll be feeling better and ready to play some more upbeat music again. Get us dancing in our chairs.”
Justin and Grace both laughed at the expression on Kia’s face. “Music is like poetry,” Justin said. “Through it we glimpse the soul.”
So, Kia thought gloomily as she headed out the front door, maybe people really could see what was happening to her.
It was a depressing thought.
Kia’s stomach lurched when she entered the kitchen. The smell of meat cooking was nauseating; the thought of eating meat was worse.
“Hi, hon. How was your day?” Her mom looked up from the onion she was dicing.
“Fine.”
“That’s it? Fine?”
“Yep. That’s about it.”
Her mom went back to her onion. “Well then, could you throw a salad together for me while I finish this spaghetti sauce?”
“I suppose.” At least her mom wasn’t cooking one of her weird Filipino dishes. It was a constant battle. Kia and her sister, Angie, insisted on eating western food, but their mom wanted them to appreciate the customs and food of her “home,” a small village outside of Manila where she was raised.
Kia rifled through the fridge, looking for things she could put in a salad. When she removed the lettuce she spotted the dill pickles. Sandwich Stackers, the label said. Putting the salad makings beside the sink, she went back to the fridge and pulled out the jar of pickles. She took a fork from the cutlery drawer and stabbed one of the pre-sliced dills. She popped it into her mouth, then speared another one.
“How was the French exam?” her mom asked, glancing up from her chopping again.
“Not bad. I think I did okay.”
Her mom nodded. “And your report on Of Mice and Men? Did you get it back yet?”
“No, not yet.” Kia stabbed another pickle. “Is it okay if Shawna comes over to do homework tonight?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. How come I haven’t seen Derek lately? Isn’t his family back from their Christmas vacation yet?”
“Yeah, they’re back. But I’m not seeing him anymore. He’s a jerk.”
“Oh.”
Kia knew by her mom’s wide-eyed glance that she wanted to hear more, but she’d never ask, and Kia wasn’t going to enlighten her. Kia continued eating pickles, unaware that her mom had suddenly stopped chopping and was watching her.
“Kia, the last time I ate so many pickles at one time was when I was pregnant with you.”
The fork froze, mid-stab. Kia retracted it from the jar with a weak smile. She noticed the puzzled expression on her mom’s face. “I guess that’s why I like them so much.” She flushed. “I mean, because you ate so many when you were pregnant with me.” She screwed the lid on the jar and put it back in the fridge. She glanced at her mom again, fully expecting to find her still staring, but was relieved to see that she was now pressing garlic cloves into the spaghetti sauce.
week 8/40
~ the trunk is straightening out
~ the elbows bend
~ spontaneous movement begins
~ size of a chicken egg
Jan. 13
Two hearts beating ...
Inside of me.
Are they in unison
Or does each have its own rhythm?
“What a lovely surprise to see you.” Jade, counselor at the Planned Parenthood Center, reached across her desk to grasp Derek’s hand after shaking Kia’s. “So many teenage girls come alone, or with their mothers.”
Jade was a black woman with an enormous, booming presence. Her cropped hair was graying at the temples and she wore flashy, dangling earrings. A thick gold ring pierced an eyebrow, and a dozen or more bracelets tinkled on her arm whenever she moved. Kia liked her immediately.
“I look after my own business,” Derek said, dropping into a chair beside Kia.
“That’s how you see this?” Jade asked him, her eyebrows arched. “As your business?”
“What else is it?”
“Well, let’s talk about that.” Her deep brown, long-lashed eyes settled on Kia. “You’re here because you’re pregnant and you want to discuss your options.”
“She knows what her options are,” Derek interrupted. “She’s here because she had to come here to book an appointment for an abortion.”
“Is that right, Kia?” Jade asked.
Kia shot Derek a look, but then turned and nodded at Jade. Dr. Miyata had urged her to get a counseling appointment as soon as possible, so she’d phoned the Planned Parenthood Center, the appointment was set, and Derek had reluctantly agreed to drive her.
“Terminating your pregnancy is not your only choice, Kia.”
“I know that,” Kia answered.
“Can you tell me why you think it is the best option for you?”
Kia glanced at Derek. She was just about to answer when he interrupted again.
“Because she’s only sixteen! What other option does she have?”
“Many girls choose not to terminate their pregnancies, Derek. Some of them put their babies up for adoption, and many others keep them.”
“Well, they’re just stupid!” he spat. “Kia wants to get an abortion and get this over with.”
“Okay, Derek,” Jade said quietly, “I think I now know exactly what you think Kia should do. Now I need to hear Kia’s opinion.”
Derek slumped back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. He stared out the window.
“Kia,” Jade continued quietly. “Before you got pregnant yourself, how did you feel about abortion?”
Kia considered the question carefully. “Well, first of all, I never thought it was something I was going to have to face. We used birth control.” She glanced at Derek. He pointedly ignored her. “But I was assigned the pro-choice stand in a debate we had in my sex education class.” She shook her head, remembering. “It was weird. By the time the debate was over, everyone was all emotional, even though we were given our positions.”
Jade nodded. “It’s a controversial topic.”
“But I guess I believe every woman should have a right to decide for herself what to do.”
“Okay,” Jade nodded. “And Derek tells me you’ve chosen abortion for yourself. Can you tell me why you feel that is the best choice for you?”
Kia glanced at Derek again and found he was now staring at her. She tried not to let him intimidate her, but it was hard. “I guess,” she stammered, “it’s like Derek says: I’m too young.”
“What’s wrong with being a young parent?”
“Well, I want to go to college ...”
“You still could.”
“But it would be way harder, financially and everything.”
“That’s true. Any other reason?”
“I still want to party with my friends.”
“And you think that if you were a parent you wouldn’t be able to do that?”
“That’s right.”
“Okay, that’s valid. Anything else?”
Kia was keenly aware that her answers were sounding pretty lame, if only to her own ears. But she continued. “I don’t want to disappoint my parents. That’s a biggie.”
“They don’t know?”
“No.”
Jade nodded sympathetically. “So that’s why continuing with the pregnancy and choosing adoption isn’t a good choice for you?”
&nb
sp; “Uh-huh. And anyway, it would be way too hard to give up a baby.”
“So,” Derek said, looking at his watch. “I’d say those were pretty convincing answers, wouldn’t you, Jade?”
Jade ignored Derek. “Anything else, Kia?”
Kia regarded Derek. Inspired by Jade’s ability to ignore him, she decided to add one last item to her list. “And when I do have a baby some day, I want to have it with someone who loves me,” she said, meeting Derek’s startled gaze.
“Sounds like a good plan,” he said coolly. Then he turned to Jade. “So, do you make her the appointment?”
Jade nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure about your decision, Kia, you now have two more choices. You could have the procedure done in a hospital where you would be put under a general anesthetic. In other words, you’d be put right out. You wouldn’t remember a thing. Or your second option is to go to a clinic where a local anesthetic is used, and you’re awake throughout. This is a little quicker, and the recovery is easier as well.”
“The clinic, I think,” Kia said. “I’ve never been put right out before. The thought of it gives me the creeps.”
“Okay, then I’m going to give you some pamphlets to read while I go and see about setting up an appointment for you. You have to know exactly what is going to happen, and sign a permission form, indicating that you understand the procedure. Any questions?”
Kia shook her head and began to read the pamphlets.
Jade was back a moment later. “How does January the eighteenth sound?” she asked.
Kia looked up from the paper in her hand. She swallowed hard. “Fine, I guess.”
“Are you finding that material a little hard to read?” Jade asked quietly, studying Kia’s face.
She nodded. “A little.”
Derek cleared his throat impatiently.
“But I’m okay,” she added.
Jade handed Kia some more paper. “The directions to the clinic are in here, as well as the permission slip you need to sign. If you have any questions at all, either of you,” she added, including Derek, “please don’t hesitate to call.”
Dancing Naked Page 3