Amazing Grace

by Lesley Crewe

  The day I’ll never forget that year, is when one of my black friends gives me the rest of her can of Coke. I take it back to my room and ask my roommate if she wants a sip. She asks me where I got it, since Coke is a luxury, and I tell her Judith gave it to me. She refuses to drink from the can and tells me to throw it out.

  I never speak to my roommate again.

  Fortunately, the one thing I love is the learning. I read everything, and devour facts and ideas like they’re Aunt Mae’s ginger cookies. My professors love me and the feeling is mutual.

  One professor in particular. Mr. Roman teaches my psychology class. The man is undeniably handsome, but it’s his confidence that envelopes me and makes me feel like I’ll be special, too, one day.

  Our assignment is to re-enact the Second World War. Our class of one hundred is divided into countries and there are two or three trailers out behind the psych building that house the seats of our collective governments. Armed with knowledge about events after the First World War, we are given the task of trying to avoid another world war. All of us are certain that we’ll stop the war entirely, since we’re young, war is horrific, and we know better. We’ll show them.

  Our World War Two starts five years earlier. None of us can agree on anything and there are bullies on each team who refuse to budge from their almighty principles. Not to mention the guys shouting over the girls, because they’re so damn important and what do we know anyway.

  I’m close to hitting the emperor of Japan before I realize I need to retreat behind one of the trailers to cool down. As I reach for my matches to light a cigarette, Mr. Roman approaches and lights one for each of us.

  “So what do you think, Miss Fairchild?” He blows smoke above my head. “What did you learn today?”

  “That men are idiots.”

  He laughs. “You are a delightful creature, so different from the others.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I look at you I see truth. You don’t hide behind bullshit.”

  “Then I have a recommendation for your experiment. Divide it by sex and see what happens. My bet is the women will win every time.”

  He looks impressed and nods his head. “I think we should discuss this over lunch.”

  Lunch leads to more lunch and then dinners, and inevitably breakfasts.

  I have a secret now, and I hold it to my chest like a gemstone. The great Professor Philip Roman is in love with me. He picked me out of all the girls on campus. An educated man who listens to every word I say. He tells me I’m smart and impossibly beautiful.

  Now I understand love-making. It’s supposed to make you feel good, not bad. We meet in his small apartment when he can get away.

  “Maybe we could go to dinner sometime. Or a movie.” I’m naked on the bed, in the crook of his arm, smoking a cigarette.

  He takes a drag on his and pulls his fingers through my hair. “I want you all to myself. I can’t bear to share you with anyone.”

  That’s all he ever says. I sit up, annoyed. “At some point, we have to go outside.”

  Mr. Roman gives me a big sigh. “Do I really have to say this, Grace? I’m your prof. It would be bad form if people knew I was dating a student.”

  “If you knew that, why are you here with me? What kind of relationship is this? Are you ashamed of me?”

  “Darling girl.” He stubs out his cigarette and then grabs mine and flattens that as well. “Come here.”

  This always happens. He makes love to me and I’m helpless against him. Despite my annoyance, he’s like a drug. All my life I’ve run away from men and now I’m rushing towards one. Philip makes me feel wanted, like I have someone I can count on. These are the best days of my life. I have friends at the dorm, my boyfriend, and great classes. Everything is working out very nicely, for once in my pitiful life.

  And it gets better. I’m in social studies class, in the back of the room with my head beside the open window.

  The guy next to me says, “Got a headache?”

  I turn to him. “Yeah. How did you know?”

  “My whole life is a headache. I can spot one a mile off.” He grins and takes out a small aspirin tin from his pocket and offers it to me. “Take two.”

  I swallow the pills with a gulp of Pepsi. “Thanks…what’s your name?”

  “Aaron. Aaron Willingdon.”

  “Thanks, Aaron. I’m Grace.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re Amazing.”

  Now I’m suspicious. “Okay, how do you know that?”

  His brown eyes crinkle at the corners and dimples bracket his mouth. “I’m a spy. No, a friend told me. One of your cohorts from Old Eddy. Judith Reddick.”

  “I love Judith.”

  We’re still chatting when a TA we’ve never seen before walks into the room. She doesn’t look much older than us, with her checkered bell-bottoms and bandana on her head. She proceeds to sit in the swivel chair behind the desk in the front of the room.

  “I’m your substitute for the day. Open your books.”

  We dutifully open our textbooks and wait for further instructions, but that’s it. She spends the entire time spinning in the chair.

  Aaron leans over. “Lucy is in the sky with diamonds, I fear.”

  At first we smirk, then laugh and look at each other, wondering what we should do, but after a while it gets ridiculous. Aaron stands up, and he’s very tall. I’m not sure how he fit under the desk. He says loudly, “Well, comrades, I say we make a break for it.”

  He grabs my hand. “Let’s get some coffee.”

  The entire class follows our lead. For all I know she’s still spinning.

  Aaron and I head to a small coffee shop off campus. It never occurs to me to be worried about going anywhere with him. He has this big brother kind of feel. We settle in with our coffee and danishes.

  “So tell me about yourself,” he says. “You have a wicked look about you.”

  “Oh, I have the devil in me. Someone told me that once.”

  “I look at your big hazel eyes and auburn hair and see only angels flying here and there…through the air…a girl so fair…without a care…”

  “I love corny people,” I smile.

  “Then you’ll be enthralled with me.”

  Aaron and I become fast friends. He just gets me. I find myself telling him about the compound, something I never thought I’d do, but Aaron makes me feel safe. Even when I tell him terrible stuff, he never flinches. He will keep my secrets.

  But after a while I notice that he doesn’t say much about himself, or he’ll change the subject when I ask him a question. It’s annoying, but I can’t stay mad at him. He’ll make a goofy face or buy me a popsicle, or make me ride on the handlebars of his bike, both of us shouting at people to warn them, as we zigzag down the sidewalk.

  After a crazy session in bed one afternoon with Philip, I ask my psychology expert how to get someone to talk.

  “If they don’t want to talk, it’s damn near impossible. You could torture them I suppose, but somehow that doesn’t strike me as your style.” He kisses my hair. “Who is this person you want to know so much about?”

  “Just a friend.”

  “A girlfriend.”

  “No.”

  He looks down at me from above. “Are you seeing someone behind my back, you wanton woman?”

  “He’s a friend.”

  “You tell your friend to keep his hands off. You’re my property.”

  “I’m nobody’s property.” I push him away and get off the bed, grabbing my clothes off the floor.

  “Grace! I’m kidding!”

  “I have to go.”

  The next day a bouquet of red roses arrives at the dorm for me, with a small card. “I’m sorry. I love you. P.”

  I’ve never had a man give me flowers before. I sho
w them to Judith.

  “You got it goin’ on, girl. You better find me a man like that.”

  With all the distractions in my private life, my grades suffer for the first time since before my aunts found me. Aunt Pearl would have had a fit, and I feel like I’m letting her down. I can’t jump every time Philip wants me to meet him. Even Aaron takes up a lot of my time with his wonderful goofiness. I’m not sure when he goes to class. He makes me laugh like no one else, but I’m still no closer to figuring him out.

  We are weeks away from dispersing for the summer, my first year over. What to do with myself weighs heavy. Getting a temporary job and leasing an apartment for a couple of months is imperative, but what do I want to be when I finish university? The thought of going to classes forever seems preferable to making a decision. So far nothing has reached out and grabbed me by the throat. Some of the girls know already that they want to be pharmacists or doctors or lawyers, although the vast majority are hoping to snag a guy before it’s too late.

  Someone suggests social work and I actually shiver. My experience with social workers makes my stomach knot, but I do see from this vantage point that they were trying to help me. Trouble is, they never looked at it from my point of view. They were bossy strangers who never let me speak, or even if they did, they’d tell me not to worry and that everything would be fine. But I wasn’t clueless. I knew I should be worried and that things might not be fine and there’s no reassurance strong enough to push those thoughts away. It’s difficult to deal with a pissed-off mouthy kid all day, but my being rude and unco-operative was fear manifesting, and not giving me back my cat was unforgivable. I dream about Buddy still. It’s not knowing what happened to him that makes me sad. He must have thought I didn’t love him anymore. Nothing could be further from the truth.

  I’m working in the library on a paper for the end of term when Aaron happens by and sits opposite me.

  “Go away, Aaron. I need to finish this.”

  His lip goes down in an exaggerated pout. “Gee, thanks. I guess I’ll give you the good news later.” He starts to leave.

  “Sit down, you jerk. Just hurry up because I have to finish this.”

  “I’ve solved your problem.”

  “I have many. Which one are you referring to?”

  “Your lease.”

  “I need a really cheap apartment. You know that.”

  “This is very cheap. It’s at my place. I have a spare bedroom. You can spend the summer there.”

  I look up from my paper. “Thanks, but it will ruin our friendship. I’ll figure it out.”

  He says nothing, so I put down my pen. “You’re a very sweet guy and I appreciate your offer, but I don’t want to put you out. I need to stand on my own two feet.”

  Aaron leans back in his chair. His cheekbones stand out, like he’s lost weight.

  “Are you eating?”

  “Perhaps you could live with me and feed me like a baby bird.”

  “Or you could become a fashion model. With cheeks like that you’d make a fortune.”

  “Well, don’t say I didn’t offer.”

  “I love you, Aaron. Thank you for even suggesting it.”

  He pats my head before he leaves. It’s dark by the time I finish my assignment. Even though I won’t take up Aaron’s offer, it’s like a warm piece of coal in my pocket. If things get desperate, he’s around. Sometimes that’s all a person needs.

  A few days after that I’m not feeling very well and one of the girls suggests I go to the clinic to get checked out. It can’t hurt, I suppose, but I make sure it’s a woman doctor first. Dr. Lang listens to my complaints, my nausea and feelings of fatigue. She listens to my heart and takes my blood pressure and then asks me to lie down on the table. The minute she starts pressing on my stomach, I know. Even before she says she wants a urine sample.

  “Is there any chance you could be pregnant? You’re practising safe sex, I hope?”

  “I’m a fool.”

  “Your periods stopped?”

  “I guess so. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  She looks down at me kindly. “Are you not in the habit of taking care of yourself?”

  I avert her gaze. “Apparently not.”

  “The father is still in the picture?”

  “Yes. He’ll help me.”

  “It’s scary, but your body knows what it’s doing, as long as you take care of it. No drinking, smoking, or drug use. That’s imperative. See me regularly so I can monitor your progress. I’ll prescribe some prenatal vitamins.” She takes out her notepad.

  I want to die. “This isn’t my first baby.”

  The sympathy in her eyes goes away. “You have another child?”

  “No, I miscarried when I was fifteen.”

  “How far along?”

  “Three months.”

  “Do you have a mom? Or any female relative.”

  “No.

  Dr. Lang sighs and puts her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll help you through this.”

  It’s worse when people are kind to me.

  It takes me a while to find the courage to tell Philip. I’m not so naive that I don’t know that this is a potential problem, but I figure he’s a lot older than I am and is probably ready to settle down and start a family. This isn’t what Aunt Pearl had in mind for me, but I know she’d never throw me on the streets if she knew. Or maybe she would. She’d certainly call me a hippy-dippy; it’s like I never look far enough ahead to imagine the consequences of my actions. I’ve let myself down for sure, and this little baby who terrifies me. It might decide I’m a screwup, too, and leave me like the last one did.

  Philip and I are on our usual Tuesday night date. After pizza, we fall into bed and stay there. When he decides he’s had enough, he pulls himself up, leans against the headboard, and lights a cigarette. “Want one?” He holds out the cigarette pack.

  “No thanks.”

  He looks surprised. “Okay then. On a healthy kick are we?”

  “Sort of.”

  It occurs to me that Philip often smokes so he doesn’t have to talk. I’m guilty of that myself, but only with people I don’t know. Philip knows me better than anyone.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  He closes his eyes and inhales. “Sounds serious. Let me enjoy my ciggy.”

  I lay back down on the bed for a couple of minutes but he’s not in any hurry, which annoys me, and I get out of bed and get dressed.

  “I always know when you’re pissed off at me,” he chuckles. “You put your clothes back on. So why am I the bad guy now?”

  I’m fully dressed before I answer. “I’m pregnant.”

  He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and glares at me. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  His anger frightens me a little. “Is this a big surprise? That’s what we do. That’s all we do. Did it never occur to you that this might happen?”

  Philip pounds his cigarette into the ashtray and gets out of bed. “It never occurred to me that you wouldn’t take care of it.”

  “So because you won’t use condoms, I’m supposed to come up with another plan? I thought that meant you didn’t care if I got pregnant, that you might even be glad if it happened. You say you love me. This is what people in love do.”

  He struggles into his jeans. “You stupid little girl. Why did you have to be so stupid?”

  “What?”

  That’s when he takes a step towards me and holds his arms out like he’s explaining something to a imbecile. “I’m married with three kids already! Why would I want one with you?”

  “Married?”

  “Of course I’m married. Don’t pretend you didn’t know that. Everyone knows that.”

  “I assumed you weren’t married because you never told me you were. You chased me, remember? So that information was
your obligation, not mine.”

  “This isn’t happening. Do you hear me, Grace? If this gets out it will ruin my career. Surely you wouldn’t be that selfish.” He throws on his clothes on and jumps into his runners.

  “What about me?”

  He stops then and tries to collect himself. “You’re right. There’s you. You gave me such a fright I panicked for a minute.” He reaches over and takes me in his arms, stroking my hair like it might give him some special power. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

  He steps away and picks up his wallet on the bedside table. “Here. Here’s three hundred bucks. No, here’s four hundred, just to be safe.” He puts it in my hand. “Get an abortion, but please go to someone who isn’t going to butcher you. I can’t have that on my conscience. I’ve got to go. Put the key under the mat when you leave.”

  And he disappears out of my life forever.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  NOW

  I knew it would be bad. To learn that your father isn’t your father. My mistake was made long ago, when I didn’t tell Jonathan as soon as he could understand. My poor boy has gone white, his coffee forgotten long ago. He’s dazed, like I hit him on the head. That’s just what I did. Pounded him into the ground and uncovered a new reality that can’t possibly be real.

  “I’m sorry, Jonathan. I never should have gone along with keeping it a secret. Your father thought it would be best if you didn’t know.”

  “Go ahead, pin the blame on him. According to you, my real father gave you money to get rid of me. My pretend father lied to me my whole life. You ran away. What did I ever do to deserve such a nurturing group of people? Excuse me.”

  He’s a little unsteady as he rises from the armchair, and won’t look at me as he leaves the room.

  I get in the tub and brood until the water gets cold. Then I crawl into bed and stay there. Here’s hoping Jonathan can get a little rest.

  It becomes a waiting game. He disappears for about three days. I follow Linn around just for something to do, but I’m in her way. I spend hours at the movie theatre eating popcorn but have no clue what the films are about. On day three I find myself in front of Deanne’s apartment building. It at least is only two storeys up.