The Sneakers (A Catholic Novella)

2007-07-29T09:19:00.000-07:00

Prologue: The Thrift Store
Chapter 1: Vicki
Chapter 2: Stupid pill
Chapter 3: Maze
Chapter 4: Shocks 'n Struts

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The Sneakers (A Catholic Novella)
Copyright 2007 Timothy P.Collins
All rights reserved.

Prologue:The Thrift Store

2007-07-29T08:05:00.000-07:00

"Man, it is sum kinda' hot outside," EZ popped the top of his Moxie and chugged half of it down in one long gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when he was finished.

"Now Ezekiel, don't you be such a slob. Hep me get this stuff up here an' go through it."

Ezekiel's real name was Ezekiel NMI (for No Middle Initial) Zook, but everybody had called him EZ for as long as he could remember, his whole life, probably. Everybody, that is, except his Great Aunt Theodosia, who ran the World Famous Downtown Thrift Shop in Bangor, Maine with an iron hand, employing her nephew to do the heavy work. She called him Ezekiel. EZ hated this. However, even though EZ towered over his great aunt he never, not even once for only an instant, considered asking her not to. Plus, times were a little tough, and Theodosia paid him good gas money to run his truck all over town, picking up stuff for the thrift store. EZ loved driving his truck.

"Aw, c'mon, auntie, it a hunnert degrees outside." EZ began heaving boxes up on the counter while his aunt pulled them open and rapidly began unpacking them.

"Ezekial, it's not that hot. Quit gripin'." Actually, it was in the mid 90's, and the shop, like many older buildings in central Maine, had no air conditioning. However, the really hot weather generally only lasted for a couple of weeks in mid summer, and it always cooled down in the evenings.

"Lotta junk," she mumbled to herself as she screened the contents of the first box. "This is garbage." She tossed a tattered shirt into the waiting trash receptacle without a second glance.

"Laundry." A pile of clothes flew over the old lady's shoulder into a large laundry hamper, saved from the fate of the first shirt.

"Yes'm." EZ nudged a couple of pieces of clothing which had landed on the edge of the hamper with his foot, so that they fell all the way in.

"Kay. That's it for this box." She deftly swiped at the sides of the box with a box cutter, and it collapsed obediently into a flat pile of cardboard. "Recycle." Swish, the stack of flat cardboard slid off the counter apparently of it's own volition into a waiting hand truck. "What'cha got here?" Theodosia gazed at the line of boxes and bins EZ was heaving up off the floor onto the counter. "Pull yoor pants up, Ezekiel Zook!"

EZ snapped to attention, simultaneously pulling his dirty jeans up over his generous belly, and hitching up his thick leather belt with the cowboy hat buckle. They didn't have too many cowboys in Penobscot County, of course, but EZ liked the belt which he'd found in a box he brought to the shop. Besides, it helped with his pants. Those pants, they tended to ride a little low in back when a man was workin' hard. Auntie just didn't understand...

"We need some shoes, we're short on 'em. Gimme a shoe box, Ezekiel."

EZ heaved a bin full of shoes up on the counter, being careful about the arrangement of his clothing.

"Work boots. Good shape, kinda' dirty though..." the old lady looked them over carefully, peering inside and sticking her hand in all the way to the toebox, feeling around with her fingers. She nodded, satisfied. "Steel toe guards. I like that. Laundry." The boots sailed into the hamper on top of the clothes. EZ groaned inwardly, because footwear had to be cleaned off by hand.

"Wingtips?" Theodosia turned the black and white leather shoes round and round, over and over, studying them inside and out. She repeated the interior examination with her fingers, and checked the stiff laces. Then, she took a careful sniff, and made a face. "These things must be fifty years old. Somebody cleanin' th' attic, I suppose."

"They's nice, though, auntie. Put 'em on th' shelf. Sumbody'll want 'em."

Theodosia eyed the shoes doubtfully. "Perhaps. We'll let 'em set up there for awhile an' see what happens."

EZ rooted through the bin. "Look. Here's baby shoes."

"Toddler shoes," Theodosia corrected. "Look, they're little sneakers. Aren't they cute?"

The shoes were little blue cloth sneakers with white soles and broad, flat white cloth laces. Perfectly matched, each sneaker had on it's side over the ankle a little red sailboat in a round white background. They looked as if they had never been worn.

"Practically new. For a little boy. A little baby boy, mebbe a year or so." Theodosia looked the sneakers over carefully, inside and out.
"I wonder why they ended up here," EZ mused. Now, EZ wasn't given to musing in general, but there was something about the little blue sneakers which struck him. Somehow, they seemed like they had a story.

"Y' never know," Theodosia said quietly as she placed the little shoes side by side on the edge of the counter. "Y' just never know."

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Chapter 1: Vicki

2007-07-29T07:10:00.000-07:00

Vicki Kelly felt the seconds ticking off as she stared into the tiny plastic well. Slowly the little blue cross on the white background became clearer, brighter. Vicki groaned.

"Charlie." No answer, though she could hear that the TV was on out in the living room. NASCAR. Charlie was asleep on the couch, mouth open. Vicki sat down next to him, clicking the TV off with the remote.

"Charlie." She gently kneaded his belly.

"Huhnnh?"

"Charlie, we need to talk."

"Is it time t' go t' work?" Charlie fumbled around for his watch.

"No. Sweetie, c'mon, set up for a minute. This is important."

Charlie rubbed his eyes, groaned, and sat up. He glanced at the blank TV screen with a quizzical, slightly irritated expression, and then glanced at his watch. He didn't have to go to work for two hours yet.

"OK," he grumped, "I'm up. Now what is it?"

Vicki took one of Charlie's hands in each of hers, held them gently, and looked into his eyes. "Charlie, I'm pregnant."

Charlie was silent, his face a blank.

"Charlie, did you hear me?"

More blank stare. Then his eyes began to focus slightly. "Uh huh. I heard you. Pregnant."

"Yeah. Pregnant."

Charlie's mind seemed to resume functioning. He looked at Vicki. "How do you know?"

"Well," Vicki said shyly, still holding Charlie's hands but staring at her knees, "I was, you know, a little late. So I got one of those drugstore test kits..."

"How good are those things?" Charlie seemed annoyed now, a bit frantic.

"Pretty good, I think," Vicki remained calm. "I mean, if they're positive, I think they're pretty good." Something caught Vicki's eye and she gazed out the window. Snow! It's starting to snow! And it's not even Thanksgiving! Vicki had loved the snow ever since she was a little child, and the first snowfall of the season always excited her. She had grown up in the coastal town of Potter's Cove, Maine, and could remember the days when it had been a hard, somewhat poor working town, it's waterfront littered with dead and dying chicken processing plants and the old Lighthouse Seafood factory. For all of it's decrepit waterfront, though, Potter's Cove was a town of great natural beauty, sloping steeply down to the body of water with the same name, which in turn immediately opened into the Penobscot Bay. About the time she was a teenager, this natural beauty was discovered by wealthy folks from away; magically the old chicken plants disappeared and million dollar homes sprang up in their place, raising property prices and taxes at the same time. Now, like most of the local kids who had entered young adulthood with only a high school diploma and a couple of courses at the community college, Vicki could no longer afford to live in the town of her childhood. So, she lived with her boyfriend Charlie in a dingy duplex a few miles outside of town, up on Route 116. It wasn't so bad; the building was off by itself, with some woods and fields around; now those fields were beginning to have the first tinge of white as the snow came down. Granted, by the time April came around and mud season finally staggered in she was usually a bit tired of snow, but that never detracted from the excitement of the first snowfall of the year. The momentary excitement of this first snowfall, though, was instantly doused by the reality of the positive home pregnancy test, and the look on Charlie's face.

Charlie shook his head like he was being bothered by a fly. "I thought... what about the stupid pill?" Now he was angry.

"The stupid pill didn't work, that's what about the stupid pill. It happens. I didn't forget to take it if that's what you mean!" Vicki was angry now, too. When the test had turned positive, Vicki's first emotion was joy. A baby! But the joy was evanescent; quickly suppressed like the joy about the snow by the immediate realization: Charlie isn't going to like this. Then, there was school to think about. If only we were married, the thought snuck out from somewhere in the back of her head, things would be different. Stupid pill.

"Don't you have to get a blood test or something?" Charlie was talking, and she hadn't even realized it. "Don't they do that at the crisis pregnancy clinic? Isn't that where y' go?"

"I think I just go t' my regular doctor. Charlie, this is new to me. I've never been pregnant before."

Vicki sat on the couch and looked at Charlie. Charlie, sitting on the opposite end, looked back. Here we are, thought Vicki, staring at each other. This could go on for awhile. I can see the gears turning inside his head, but what is he thinking? Vicki felt her stomach churning as conflicting emotions, things she couldn't name, bubbled around in there. She imagined a big pot, a kettle, boiling, bubbling, steaming as different things she could just barely see came to the surface and then dove back down into the roiling stew. One thing kept coming up to the surface time after time, and to it she could give a name. Fear. I'm afraid. Why? Vicki puzzled over this even though she knew she was afraid. It's not like I'm going to die or anything. I'm only a little bit pregnant. Vicki smiled to herself in spite of it all. An absurd situation, and an absurd response. Charlie was still staring at her: he rubbed his chin, and cleared his throat.

"Will he, you know, the doctor, I mean. Will he do, you know... do an abortion?"

Vickie stared at Charlie. "Abortion?"

"Uh, yeah," Charlie became sarcastic. "Y' didn't think we were gonna keep it, did ya?" The sarcasm had turned to incredulity.

Tears were welling in her eyes. "Keep it? I... I don't know. Charlie..." She looked at him like he was a stranger, and suddenly realized that she had never felt so alone.

"Vicki, what are you thinking? You're twenty years old," Charlie was standing now, pacing. "What about school? You're th' one who wants t' go to law school. You can't have a baby and do all that! How're you gonna take care of it?"

"What's this you stuff, buster?" Vicki didn't know if she should cry or scream; she wanted to do both as her world, such as it was, began to unravel. "It's your baby too. It didn't just appear in there, y' know."

Charlie stopped pacing, and pointed a finger at Vicki. "Now you just wait a minute. You're the one who was taking the pills. You're the one who said you wouldn't get pregnant..."

"I never said that!"

"Everybody knows that's why ya take th' stupid birth control pills! T' not get pregnant!" Charlie was pacing again, glowering. Vicki thought smoke was going to come out of his ears. "Look. You have your whole life ahead of you. You can't mess that up with a baby."

A thought hit Vicki like a brick. She glowered back at Charlie. "This is all about you, isn't it? You could care less about me, or the baby. All this whole life ahead of you jazz, it's you you're talking about, not me. You have your whole life ahead of you. Well, buster, is it supposed to be with me, and this baby, or without us? Whadaya say, buddyboy?" Vicki was nearly frantic. Heck with the neighbors. Charlie looked shocked, but then so was Vicki. The thoughts, the words hade come out unexpectedly, without any prior thought on her part. Am I going to keep this baby? How?

Her whole life ahead of her, and at that moment a breath of clarity entered the kaleidoscope of confusion wheeling around in her head. A couple of basic facts stared at her from behind her eyes. First, she'd made a baby with a guy she shacked up with. Second, she'd never even thought about the possibility of getting married, of what they were doing living together, or anything else. She just did it because all her friends were doing it. And finally, now they'd made a baby, and the first thing the creep said was go get an abortion. Yaaah! Vicki jumped up off the couch, tears streaming down her cheeks, and ran out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her. Charlie could hear her steps as they echoed down the stairwell, and out the front door. Stupid pill.

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Chapter 2: Stupid Pill

2007-07-29T06:40:00.000-07:00

Vicki stopped her aging Saturn at the rise of the old bridge abutment, shut off the motor, and rolled down the window. The cold air hit her, reviving her, and she watched with happiness as snowflakes danced in through the open window and around the steering wheel. Vicki listened to the silence, almost hearing the snow, gentle, falling, falling, in the calm, darkening late afternoon. She had played in this place as a child, on this little abutment that once upon a time, maybe a hundred years ago, had been the beginning of a railroad trestle for the old Bangor and Aroostock Railroad. It was a pretty place, quiet and peaceful, looking out across the river at the head of Potter's Cove, the steeply sloping pine covered hills leading down to the mud flats, exposed now at low tide. To the southeast, the cove opened rapidly into the broad expanse of Penobscot Bay, and off in the far distance was the silhouette of the island of Isleboro; a vague, long low dark hump in the gloomy haze. Here she had played as a child; here she came when her parents had divorced while she was still a young girl, and here she was now, watching the thickening snow turn everything white against the grey background of the sky. Stupid pill.

Why, Vicki wondered, were things like this? She watched the snow, and thought about her life. After her parents had divorced, her dad had moved away and Vicki had lived with her mom through high school. Money was always tight, and prices were rising in Potter's Cove as Vicki grew up. Somehow her mother managed to make ends meet, pay the rent, keep the electric on, and have food on the table, even if it frequently was macaroni and cheese (three packages for 99 cents). Noodles, macaroni and cheese, and her mother always looking tired, haggard and slightly worried; these were Vicki's main memories growing up. But she and her mother had talked when Vicki was young, they had some good times, and laughed. As Vicki grew older, though, they talked, and smiled at each other, less.

Vicki had run around in high school, heck, she'd started running around in junior high school. Everybody did. It seemed to be expected, nobody said not to, the teachers never talked about it. Vicki had known girls who were much more wild than she had ever been. Did any of them get pregnant? Have they have abortions? She knew it happened; and she knew you had to go pretty far away, down to Portland, to get one. They didn't even do them up in Bangor, and Bangor was pretty big.

After Vicki graduated from high school, she started working full time, various jobs around town. Her mother moved away, seeming to be glad to be free of her and of Potter's Cove. Vicki started taking some course at the community college, and decided she wanted to go to law school. She didn't really know anything about law school, but it gave her a goal, something to work towards. She met Charlie in a bar one night; he was up with a construction crew working on the big houses and condos and retirement villages being built all over the Penobscot Bay coast. Good looking guy, seemed to like her, and before she knew it she was moving in with him. Everybody does it, she'd thought, and you can split expenses. Like having a roommate but much more fun. Vicki grimaced as she remembered that rationalization: much more fun. Yeah, it was fun, until the stupid test turned positive.

Do I feel anything for him? Is he just a roommate? Vicki's head swirled like the snow swirling just beyond her windshield. She thought about the wall of loneliness she'd just encountered back there in the apartment, the feeling that she existed in her little universe, and Charlie in his, and all they shared were the rent and the utility bills. And bed. It didn't seem right. She felt like she and Charlie had become more intimate, more entangled in each other's lives, simply by virtue of the fact that they did live together, did share a bed. How could it be otherwise? But she knew her girlfriends from high school would laugh at her. He's just a guy, they'd say, take what you want and leave the rest.

What about the baby? she asked her friends in her mind.

There's no baby, the voices said. Babies lie in cribs, say 'goo-goo' and stuff. You've popped positive on a drugstore pregnancy test. You're just a little bit pregnant. Happens all the time. But what's you've got in there isn't a baby, it's a growth, it's like a wart. It looks like a fish and it's yucky. Besides, do you really want a baby? Babies squall and keep you up at night and mess their diapers. How are you gonna work and have a baby? Who's gonna take care of it? Get over it. You're a good lookin' girl, you've got your whole life ahead of you, go get the abortion and move on.

"But I don't want to move on!" Vicki suddenly realized that she had shouted out loud the words to the falling, swirling snow. Great! Now I'm losing my mind. Vicki looked around sheepishly to see if anyone were near, but there was only the silent, swirling snow. She moved the seat back just as far as it would go, and leaned back, and looked down at her belly. Flat as ever. She pushed gently, just below her navel. Don't feel anything. But, I wouldn't be able to see or feel anything anyway, not this early, would I? But, wouldn't I feel sick or crave pickles or something? She didn't know. Maybe the stupid test is wrong. Maybe I'd better settle this before I freak out anymore.

Vicki slid the seat back up to her normal driving position. Outside, the snow was thickening and evening was coming on, and a faint rim of white had appeared on the windowsill. She blew on it gently, scattering the snowflakes. Maybe I'm not pregnant and this is just a false alarm. Momentary relief gave way to another thought. If you're not pregnant, Vicki baby, what will you have learned out of this little adventure? Vicki considered this for a few moments. If I'm not pregnant, I can't just go back to the way I was, I mean, with Charlie. Can I? Something is happening to me. She remembered the emptiness she'd felt, and the high blank wall she'd met in Charlie's eyes. Something's happening, something is way wrong, broken bad, in my life. I can't just go back to living with him, even if I'm not pregnant. Especially if I'm not pregnant.

And suppose you are pregnant, her mocking self asked, what then?

Irritated, Vicki twisted the ignition key. Let's just take this one step at a time.

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Chapter 3. Maze.

2007-07-29T06:30:00.000-07:00

The nurse midwife paused before opening the door to the examining room and, pulling the outpatient folder out of the little plastic box on the wall, she flipped it open and scanned the cover sheet. A little box in the upper right hand corner of the sheet was labeled, "Reason for Visit." In it was the phrase, neatly handwritten by the office secretary, "Positive pregnancy test." The midwife glanced quickly through the chart. Long time patient, no real medical problems... Pap smears, birth control pill prescription renewals. Not much else. She gave a light knock on the door, and went in.

"Hi, Vicki, I'm Marla, the nurse midwife here at the office. How're you today?"

Vicki was sitting on the exam table, legs swinging over the side. She had not been told to change into an exam gown, so she sat there in her street clothes, swinging her legs back and forth. She studied the midwife, who was older, in her forties, maybe. Her eyes moved to the woman's wedding band, and then flicked back to the woman's face. Vicki didn't remember seeing the midwife before, but then, she didn't come to the doctor's office very much.

"Hi. Okay, I guess." Vicki kept swinging her legs.

The midwife pulled up a stool. "What can I do for you today?"

Swing, swing, the legs went back and forth. Vicki studied the way her kneecaps moved up and down with the motion. Then she said abruptly, "I have a positive pregnancy test."

The midwife's hesitation was nearly imperceptible. "Right," she said, looking again at the lab report paper clipped on the inside of the chart. Her clinical instinct told her to go slowly; after all, this patient hadn't scheduled an OB intake visit, as patients usually did when they found they were pregnant. "The one we ordered for you to obtain prior to your visit is positive. It's something the front desk does, helping you get the test ahead of time, to expedite the process."

"Yeah. So, I guess that means I'm pregnant for sure."

"That's generally what it means." Marla crossed her legs, deciding how to best move the interview onto a more fruitful path. "It's good enough for us to schedule the OB intake screen, go through the question list, and set up the first OB visit. Is that," Marla spoke carefully, "what you'd like to do?"

"But, I was on the birth control pill," Vicki said, ignoring the question.

"Did you miss any?"

"No. Honest. I'm really good about it. I didn't want to get pregnant."

Now we're getting somewhere, thought the midwife, mindful of the complexity of the emerging problem as well as the limited time she had to discuss it. Aloud, she said, "Birth control pills do fail from time to time. Any form of contraception can, even if practiced perfectly. What is it you'd like to do, now that you're pregnant?" Often the direct approach was the best.

"I don't know."

Bingo. Marla sat quietly in the silent room, an open, friendly expression on her face. After a pause, Vicki continued.

"I really don't know. I'm not married, I can't afford a baby, my boyfriend doesn't want it. He said..." Vicki stopped swinging her feet. She had become aware that she was banging her heels against the metal side of the table. "He said I should get an abortion."

Marla let the word hang in the air, dissipating through the room for a few seconds. Then she asked, "Is that what you want to do?"

Vicki just stared. The midwife continued gently. "Vicki, I understand your problem. It's not that uncommon, you know. You really have three choices. You could have the baby, and raise it yourself. You could have the baby, and put it up for adoption. We can put you in touch with agencies that would assist in that. Or, you could have an abortion."

"I don't know if I could put my baby up for adoption."

"Many young women in your position say that. Paradoxically," Marla continued gently and carefully, "sometimes the same young woman in a hard situation like yours who says she wouldn't put her baby up for adoption because she thinks it would be cruel, does choose to go through with an abortion."

Vicki thought about that for a moment. Her eyes were damp, glistening, but no tears came. She looked at Marla. "I guess that doesn't make much sense, does it?"

"No, it doesn't. Leastways, not to me. Vicki, do you want an abortion?"

"I... no. No, I don't want an abortion. You're right, it doesn't make sense. I don't see how I could part with my baby, put it up for adoption. It would be so hard for me. But, it would be the right thing to do, if... if the choice was that or abortion." Vicki gave a little nervous giggle. "I've been thinking about this. I really have. I even came in here mostly to ask for a referral, you know, to find out where to go to get one. An abortion, I mean. But every time I tell myself that's what I intend to do, I just... I just know that's the wrong thing to do. I just know it," she repeated. "It presses on my heart."

"Vicki," Marla leaned forward, "it's okay to want to keep your baby. That's a good thing, not a bad thing. I'm certainly not going to talk you out of it. But we need to discuss a few things. It will be hard, being pregnant, a single mom. Do you have any family here?"

Vicki shook her head. "No. I grew up here. But my folks are divorced, they've both moved out of state. I dunno why I stayed, I guess I just like it here."

"No brothers or sisters? Uncles or aunts?"

"No. Just me."

"How about your boyfriend?"

"He's the one who said I should have the abortion. I... " Vicki made an empty gesture with her hands. "I don't think he's gonna want to help very much. We're not very close. I don't know. I guess I don't know a lot of stuff." She gave another nervous little laugh.

"Where do you live?"

"With him. Up on 116. But... I think I'm going to be moving out."

"Where?"

"I dunno." Vicki had been looking at the floor; she suddenly looked up and smiled, but a genuine, gently mirthful smile. "Like I said, I guess I don't know a lot of stuff." Then, without really thinking about it, she blurted out, "Marla, do you think I should have an abortion?" Why am I asking her this? She's a complete stranger. But then, maybe it's okay. She's a doctor, after all, or a nurse midwife. Vicki wasn't real sure of the difference, but figured it didn't matter much.

Marla smiled back. "Vicki, I'm not supposed to make a recommendation one way or the other. I don't know about the legalities of it, but I know that the policy of this office is we're supposed to be neutral, and help with whatever choice you make. I'll tell you this, though." She looked slyly at Vicki. "I'm about to be a grandmother."

"You? You don't look that old. I mean..." Vicki looked a little embarrassed.

"That's alright. And, y' know, one's definition of old changes as one gets older." Marla thought about this for a moment. "Anyway, I'm about to be a grandmother, and my daughter - she's back in Massachusetts where we came from, my husband and I moved up here not too long ago after he retired - she's not much older than you."

"Well, that's nice. Congratulations." Vicki gave a little shrug, and looked at the floor. Why is she telling me this? I could care less.

"Vicki." Vicki looked up. Marla was still smiling slightly. "Vicki, I'm very thankful my daughter is having her baby, even though she's not married." Vicki raised her eyes. "Sure, I raised her to not fool around before marriage, my husband and I are pretty old fashioned that way. But she did, and now she's pregnant. You know what she told me, Vicki?"

Vicki shrugged, but she was listening.

"She told me she was sorry she made a mistake. But, she wasn't going to make the mistake worse, that she wasn't going to punish her child for the mistake she made by killing it. That's exactly what she told me"

"What's she gonna do?"

"We're not sure yet. She hasn't ruled out the possibility of adoption. She's just not sure yet. But, she says she knows she's not going to have an abortion, and the farther she's gone in her pregnancy, she more sure she's become."

"That's how I feel. The more I think about this, the surer I become. I just can't bring myself to have the abortion, even though it seems like it's the easier way. Having the baby is so frightening. I feel like I'm so alone." Vicki sighed. "I don't feel like I'm getting anywhere with this."

"That's because you're undecided as to what you want to do. I know it's a hard decision, and things seem pretty overwhelming right now. And, from what you've told me, you are pretty much alone. You're being realistic."

Vicki gave a wry little laugh. "So, being realistic, I should have the abortion, and get on with my life."

"No," Marla shook her head. "No, that's not what I mean at all. I mean this: you have a new life growing inside of you. You are responsible for that life." The midwife thought for a moment about her employer's "neutrality" policy. Well, she thought, it's not very specific. "You have some difficult decisions to make, decisions about the fate of that new life. You need to face your reality, Vicki. That's not the same thing as saying you should have an abortion."

Vicki contemplated the cracks in the linoleum. Her legs started swinging.

Marla spoke softly. "You don't need to make this decision today. Vicki, do you pray? Do you go to church?"

"Naw. My folks weren't religious."

For a moment Vicki thought she saw something pass across Marla's face. Sadness?

"Well, you need to think about things really carefully. You have time. If you decide to keep the child, we can follow your pregnancy here if you want, and when it comes time for you to have the baby, I or Dr. Marden will deliver you. If you are thinking about adoption, we can discuss that, and put you in touch with some agencies that can tell you more about it. If you decide to abort the baby," the midwife's tone was neutral, "we can tell you where to go to do that. But Vicki," Marla looked at Vicki with kindness and a hint of sadness in her eyes, "I hope you keep the baby."

Vicki was silent for a moment. Then she slid off the table. She looked at Marla again. "Thank you," was all she said, and then she left the room

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Chapter 4. Shocks 'n Struts

2007-07-28T16:58:00.000-07:00

"So that was his reaction? Go get an abortion?" Johnnie snapped her chewing gum and tore open a Twinkie. She didn't really like Twinkies, and her jeans were getting a little tight, but they were the only thing left in the doggone breakroom machine.

"Yeah. He told me I had my whole life ahead of me, and blah, blah, blah. It was all about him, really. Not me. Not the baby. I gotta admit, though," Vicki looked lugubriously around the grubby breakroom of the Shocks 'n Struts Auto Parts Store, with it's dingy, painted cinderblock walls, tall dented trash can and crumbling bulletin board, "law school does seem a bit far off right now."

"Yeah. I guess ya gotta finish at th' community college first." Johnnie smiled slyly as she addressed this observation to the remainder of her Twinkie, which she then popped into her mouth. "Well, what do you want to do?"

"You mean, do I want to abort the baby? Oh, Johnnie, I don't know. I don't know what to do." Vicki tapped the table with her fingers. "Y' know what gets me? We've been living together for six months now, and it's like he's a stranger. A complete stranger. He didn't... I mean, it's like this is all my problem and he didn't have anything to do with it."

"Well, it is your problem." Johnnie dabbed the crumbs from her lips with surprising grace. She had to use the wrapper, though, because the paper towel dispenser was empty. Friggin' Harry's too cheap t' buy paper towels. Sheesh. "I mean, of course he's a stranger. You're just shacked up. You're not married or anything. Believe me, honey," Johhnie looked wisely at Vicki, "I know."

When Vicki had come to work at Shocks 'n Struts, Johnnie had taken her under her wing. We've gotta be friends, she'd said, were the only girls workin' this dump. Having grown up in Potter's Cove, Vicki knew a lot of the long time residents. New faces trickled into the town, though; and Johnnie was one of those, having moved down from Bangor. For that matter, Harry, the store's new owner, had just bought the place a year or so prior; he'd come up from, she wasn't sure, Portland or somewhere down south. Though she was only a couple of years older than Vicki, Johnnie seemed infinitely wiser, especially regarding men. She had, Vicki knew, just given her most recent shack up the boot. Can't find a job? I don't want you hangin' around. Or so Johnnie said she'd told him.

"Johnnie, have you ever been..."

"Pregnant? Oh. Lordy, no. This girl makes doggone sure that doesn't happen."

"Well, suppose you were. What would you do?"

Johnnie glanced at Vicki, and her usual swagger disappeared. She looked thoughtful. Vicki wondered if her eyes were glistening a little, but she couldn't be certain. Johnnie let out a little sigh, as if she'd come to an unexpected but important decision.

"Sweetie, I told you a little fib. I did get pregnant once, a few years back." Vicki sat quietly, waiting. "It was some guy I knew. I was just eighteen, and he was a bartender at a place where I used to hang out up. He was cute. So, I started going back to his place with him, y' know, after the bar closed." Johnnie smiled, a sweet, slightly sad smile. She's a nice person, thought Vicki. The realization came as kind of a surprise, a little treasure she'd encountered unexpectedly. Johnnie's a nice person.

Johnnie continued. "It became kind of a regular thing, goin' home with him every night after work. I told people he was my boyfriend. We even went to a movie once."

"Charlie and I went to a movie once. Can you believe it? That was before I moved in with him."

"I can believe it, honey. That was your mistake, y' know. Moving in. Anyway, this guy, well, after awhile I thought I loved him." Johnnie gave a little shrug. "So this went on for a little while, me hanging out at the bar, and going to his place after closing. We never talked about nuthin' really. I mean, nuthin' important. I never told him I loved him or anything."

"Did he ever say anything like that to you?"

Johnnie laughed. "Nah. He never said anything like that. Our relationship was, you know, just physical." Vicki giggled, and clapped her fingertips over her mouth. "That's OK," Johnnie continued, "I laugh about it, too. Better' n' crying. So, after a few months of this, well, I was pregnant. How 'bout that?"

"What did you do?"

"Hmmpf. I told him, of course. His reaction was, well, it was like Charlie's. Surprise, annoyance, like why're you tellin' me this." Johnnie's face became serious. "Right up front, though, he said he pay for the abortion. So, down to Planned Parenthood I went, and had the abortion."

"Did he go with you?"

"Nah. Didn't even ask. He paid for it in advance, though. Over the phone. He put it on his credit card."

"Then what?"

"Then that was the end of it. I stopped going to the bar, and stopped going home with him." Johnnie's eyes were full now, no mistaking it. "Y' know, my mother started me on birth control pills, when I was in high school. She took me down to the doctor, and got me a prescription. She never told me not to have sex. We only talked about it once. She said I was a beautiful girl, an' she knew I was gonna go out and do it. That's what she called it: doing it. She couldn't stop me, she said, but I had t' be careful."

"Well, would you? Not have had sex, I mean, if she'd asked you?"

"Maybe. I dunno. It never happened, she never told me not to, so I don't know. But if she'd said something like I just shouldn't do it, maybe if we'd talked about it, an' she told me why I shouldn't do it, well... she told me not to do drugs, and I didn't do them. Anyway," Johnnie wiped a single tear, "Vicki, I wish I hadn't had the abortion. I don't know what I would've done, maybe put the baby up for adoption. It was wrong, Vicki, what I did. I had that life inside of me, and I killed it. Me." Johnnie's eyes were dry now, and she searched Vicki's face intently. "But, y' know the other mistake? I shouldn't have created that life to begin with. Not the stupid pills, I mean..."

"You mean you shouldn't have had sex."

Johnnie laughed. "You're a smart cookie, you're learning, quicker'n I did. That's right. I shouldn't have had sex. Not with that guy, not with any guy, not unless we were married." Johnnie looked hard at Vicki, a penetrating stare. "Sweetie, can you believe it? My mother never told me that. I wish she had. My teachers never told me that. All they ever did was talk about sex. Sex, sex, sex, from the earliest I can even remember. You went through all those sex ed classes."

Vicki smiled, a wicked smile. "Yeah. It wasn't just the classes, though. Everything at school was about sex, straight sex, gay sex, oral sex, anal sex, birth control pills, birth control shots, rubbers on bananas, it's all you ever heard, it's all you saw, it's all you ever talked about. I sort of figured there really wasn't anything else to life, to the world, but sex. No wonder we were always charged up."

Johnnie laughed. "It's sure all I thought about. But you know what they did in my grandmother's day? They just didn't have sex until they were married and ready to start a family. And, they didn't talk about it all the time. They talked about other things, did other things. Imagine that." Johnnie shook her head with a laugh. "Imagine that."

"OK, ladies, lunch is over." Harry called from out front. "I need some help on th' counter, and Johnnie I need that power steering pump over t' A&J's soonest. Let's go now..."

Johnnie rolled her eyes. "The moron. I've talked to posts smarter'n him." The girls stood up, Johnnie bouncing her crumpled up can off the wall into the trashcan. She looked seriously at Vicki.

"Sweetie, I know what you're going through. I know what you're feeling. But you shouldn't abort that baby. I don't know what'll happen if you don't; it'll change your life sure. Mebbe you'll give it up for adoption. I don't know. But, sweetie, trust me. You have a heart. You abort that baby and you'll be sorry for the rest of your life."

Vicki nodded. "I just feel so confused."

"I know. But they're just feelings. Not important. It's not what you feel that's important, Vicki. It's what you do. You remember that."

Vicki gave Johnnie a hug. "Thank you, Johnnie. I need a friend."

"We all do." Johnnie patted her back. "C'mon, ladies," she mimed. "Lets get going."

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Copyright 2007 Timothy P. Collins
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