October Breezes (21 page)

Although Tyler's hurting me had given me constant nightmares I couldn’t shake, I’d never dreamed I'd get pregnant.

Three positive tests later, my future took a drastic turn. With shaking hands, I shoved the tests into a plastic sack and buried then in the bottom of the trash. I'd hoped to leave the past, but it refused to stay put. I knew I would never be able to leave the past. It would folow wherever I went.

Often before showering, I'd look at my flat stomach, trying to imagine there being a baby inside, but I couldn’t. Every time I almost saw the face, I remembered Mom’s conversation with my dad. I didn’t want to be sent away, not now, when Warren and I were finaly getting along. And I didn’t want to shame my mother.

With the Internet as my silent research partner, I located a few nearby abortion clinics, and from a pay phone, I caled to find out how much it would cost to fix this. Once I knew, I checked my colege fund balance. There was enough to end the nightmare I faced, but every day part of me ached worse, and when at last I forced myself to make an appointment, I cried, even as the secretary told me I wouldn’t be able to come by myself. Someone would have to drive me. Numbly, I promised I'd take care of it.

That night, I sat in the bathroom as Mom and Warren watched a movie. The heated water turned my skin pink beneath the surfaces of the bubbles. On the side of the tub, I looked at the razor blade I'd set there. I picked it up and lightly tracked it across my skin, trying to translate what that pain would feel like. I listened to Mom’s voice mingling with Warren's, and I marveled at how their world had remained so intact when mine had shattered. “You can do this,” I told myself, but then added, “Because you have no choice.” Shaking my head, I drained the tub, dried off, and shoved the blade back into the cabinet, disgusted.

Although my appointment was two weeks away, I worried about the transportation issue. I’d never realy had many friends to begin with, and the one I’d trusted most wasn’t speaking to me.

Asking Mom or Warren to drive me to an abortion clinic was out of the question.

However, the answer to my problem appeared one morning before school as Bethany sorted through her books at her locker.

Closing my locker, I ambled toward her. “How’s Devin?”

Bethany shoved one book into her locker and closed it.

“He’s definitely seen better days. At least he'l be back in school next week. Kelin's parents didn't press charges, which sure surprised me."

I clutched my books to my chest. “I guess you two don’t get to see each other much these days.”

“We aren't going out, Skye. We're just friends.” She started walking, and I rushed to keep up.

Taking a deep breath, I asked, “Is he stil angry at me?”

She stopped short, giving me an incredulous look. “What do you think?”

The bel rang and, as desperate as I was, I grabbed her arm. “Look, I know we don’t realy know each other, and you’re probably furious about Devin—”

She puled away. “Whatever is between you and Devin stays there. Leave me out of it.” She started to walk away.

“Bethany, I need a favor.”

She faced me. “Which would be?”

I took two steps to meet her. “I need a ride to and from some place next Friday.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Where?”

“The Mayvile Clinic.”

She shook her head. “That’s not an answer, Skye.”

Cringing, I realized she knew about my secret. “It’s the only answer I have, trust me.”

She looked down the hal and frowned as Becca and Tyler sauntered toward us. “Have you tried teling anyone?”

I shook my head. “No. My mom is just now getting over the fact that I lied to her, and she threatened to send me to live with my dad if I messed up again.” I brushed the hair from my eyes.

“Look, you don’t have to stay with me. You just have to drop me off, and I can cal you to pick me up.”

Becca and Tyler walked past, both of them staring at me and laughing. “Hey, Skye, how’s it going?” Tyler asked, patting my arm. I tried to dodge him, but he anticipated my movement and touched me anyway.

Bethany waited until the two of them passed before responding. “Look, Skye, I know you think this is your only option, and I’m sorry for that. But I don’t agree with it, and I don’t want to be a part of it.”

“I’l take you,” a quiet male voice said. Jimmy stepped toward me, his hands deep in his jacket pockets as Bethany walked away. “Not that I’m advocating what you’re doing, but I understand why. Does your mom know?”

I shook my head. “She’d kil me.”

He puled out a scrap of paper, scribbled his phone number on it, and handed it to me. “Cal me tonight to tel me what the plan is.”

I took the paper as tears pricked my eyes. “It’s not that I want this, but I’m pretty sure if my mom finds out, she’l send me away. Maybe I deserve that—”

“Tyler deserves to be locked up, Skye. He raped you. I’l be glad to help you put him there. This isn’t your fault.” He reached into his pocket and puled out something smal. “By the way, I have something of yours." I held out my hand, and he dropped the locket Devin had given me into my palm.

"Where did you find this?"

He shrugged. "My car. I was vacuuming it out and there it was, hidden in the seat." He closed my finger over it. "The clasp is broken; it must've falen off that night." He pointed to his class. "I've got to go."

I nodded woodenly. "Thanks." Walking back to my locker, I slowly uncurled my fingers to reveal the heart-shaped locket I had never expected to see again. Knowing I couldn't wear it anymore, at least not until it was repaired, I set it on the top shelf and closed the door to go to algebra.

Although a major weight had been lifted, for some reason I didn’t feel any better about the future. I just kept teling myself the sooner it was over, the better.

* * *

As sleep refused to come, I stole from my room, thinking about getting a snack. Heading out the door, I overheard Mom speaking to warren, and I stood in the halway, listening.

“…has probably learned her lesson. What do you think?”

Mom asked Warren.

“She a great girl, even with her mistakes, and yes, I think she’s learned her lesson.”

“I’m glad the you two are getting along so wel,” Mom said.

I peered around the corner and saw Mom resting her head o n Warren’s shoulder. She wore such a calm expression as her hand splayed against his chest. “You’re realy good for her, you know that? How did you get her to give you a second chance?”

Warren picked up his wine glass. “I asked her to judge me on what I did, not what her father had done. He took a sip of wine.

“Maybe this isn’t my place to say, but her father was a fool for walking out on you both. I adore you.” He kissed her nose.

Mom giggled. “I know.”

I swalowed hard and edged along the wal to my room.

Although I lay down on the bed, I stil couldn’t sleep, and the night slowly unfolded into a constant flow of memories leading to this choice.

* * *

‘professional day,’ I pretended to sleep until she left. Then I rushed around like mad to get ready. By the time Jimmy drove up, I already waited for him on the porch.

I slid inside his car. “Am I late?” he asked, looking at his watch.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re on time.”

He grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the glove box and put them on. "The glare off the snow is kiler this morning." He started driving. “You stil okay with this?”

I laid my head against the seat and thought,
I’ve never
been okay with it.
Instead of saying that, I replied, “Yeah.”

“Sure you don’t want to go to the police?”

“I’m sure.” I started shaking and shoved my hands deep into the folds of my jacket. “I’m just scared.”

He puled the car over and gently took my hand. “I know you are, but you don’t have to do this. I’l come with you to tel your mom if you want.”

I shook my head franticaly. “No, I have to do this."

“Al right.” He started driving again. “I guess we’d better head off.”

When we puled up to the clinic's entrance, I took a deep breath. “Here goes,” I said. “Did you bring your cel phone so I can cal you after…it’s done?”

He shook his head. “No. I didn’t plan on leaving.”

I opened the car door, grateful he would stay, but even so, my defenses crept up. “You don’t have to.”

“I know.” He stepped out of the car and walked beside me. “But I figured I should stay just in case.” He stopped before the door and turned one last time. “Skye, are you sure? You have other choices.”

I folded my arms across my chest, trying to stop shaking.

“I’m sure, Jimmy.”

“Okay.” He opened the door and folowed me. I checked in and gave the receptionist the cash to cover the abortion before filing out the paperwork. As I sat in that hard-backed chair, the trembling grew worse, and I baled my hands into fists. To my surprise, Jimmy slid one hand over mine. "Easy does it," he whispered.

I looked up. His worried smile met my gaze. “Did you ever wonder how you ended up some place so different than you meant to go?” I asked, looking around the room at lots of girls, both younger and older than I was. I wondered what had happened to bring them here?

“Yeah,” he agreed, “not quite the same thing as you’re going through, but I have.” His fingers stroked my hand.

“Somehow it’s going to be okay again, Skye. Just not right now.

Maybe not for a while.”

“Skye Wiliams?” A nurse holding a clipboard appeared in the doorway.

Jimmy squeezed my hand. “That’s your cue.”

Swalowing hard, I nodded. “Guess so.” I forced myself to stand on wobbling knees.

“I’l be here.” Jimmy said, grabbing an issue of
Sports
Illustrated
.

“Thanks.” I folowed the nurse down a long hal with lots of closed doors. At the first open one, she gestured me inside and pointed to what appeared to be a hospital gown on the examination table. “Change into that. Remove everything except your socks.”

She set her clipboard down and headed to the door. “I’l be back.”

It didn’t take five minutes to get undressed and into that gown, and the minute I had changed, I started shivering, wel aware of how cold the room felt. I noticed what appeared to be a strange television monitor right beside my head, and I wondered what it was used for. A few minutes later I didn’t have to wonder as the nurse and a doctor came in. The nurse squirted some cold gel on my stomach and then applied a strange paddle to my stomach and moved it around. The screen suddenly changed to a picture, and I looked at the doctor.

“This is a sonogram. We’re checking for complications.”

She focused on a smal oval, and the doctor nodded. “Measure it.”

The woman placed the mouse arrow on various places and printed out pictures she handed to the doctor. He nodded. “Based on the date of her last cycle and the size, she’s twelve weeks. Prep her.” He walked out as the nurse wiped the gel residue away. Then she reviewed the information I’d given the receptionist, confirming I had no health problems.

The next thing I knew, the nurse puled out a bag of fluid.

“I’m going start an IV so we can give you a dose of anesthesia.

Once that happens, you’l fal asleep, Skye, and you won’t remember the procedure. Okay?”

I swalowed hard and let her stick my arm. At first, she didn’t find a vein and prodded a bit, then she drew the needle out, leaving only a thin plastic cord beneath my skin attached to tubing.

She taped it down. I tried not to think, to feel, al the while wiling the blackness to come as I wished I could forget the last couple of months of my life. Then the blackness swept everything away.

“Skye. Can you hear me?”

The blackness swirled, and I wanted to stay in its warmth.

“Skye, it’s time to wake up.” Someone shook my arm.

“I’m tired,” I said, trying to rol to my side.

“I know. But you need to wake up.”

Sensing she'd keep prodding me, I forced my eyes open.

“Where am I?” Everything blurred together, and my body felt like it wasn't grounded. I kept blinking, trying to clear the haze.

“You’re in recovery. How do you feel?” She guided me to a sitting position.

“Funny. The world is blurry, and my head feels like it’s wrapped in cotton.” Even forming words took effort, as my mouth had dried out. "May I have a glass of water?"

She patted my shoulder and nodded. "I'l be right back."

She returned with a styrofoam cup. “What you're feeling is the anesthesia. It has that effect.”

I took a sip, trying to accept my blurring vision with headache as normal. “How long have I been out of it?”

“About thirty minutes.” She picked up the clipboard and scribbled on my chart. “You didn’t want to come back.”

I took a deep breath and thought,
Why wouldn’t I want to
be anywhere else except here?
“Is it done?” I tried to keep my voice even, unaffected by the darkness consuming me.

Frowning, she peered into my eyes, and I knew she wondered what the right answer was. Finaly, she nodded. “The reason you came here is finished.”

I blinked hard, trying to focus on her features, but I couldn’t. I thought of that speck which had appeared on the computer before this, and emptiness pressed me. “When can I go home?”

She flipped through my chart. “In a few minutes. Your vitals look good. If you remain stable for the next half-hour or so, we’l go over your instructions, and your friend can take you home.

How do you feel?”

I rubbed my neck. “Tired.”

“That’s normal, too.” She pointed at my clothes. “If you feel up to it, you can get dressed.” She headed toward the door.

“Do you need any help?”

“No.” I wrapped my arms over my abdomen and waited.

Once the door had closed, I puled off the gown. As I dressed, I almost lost my balance but managed to stay upright. Nausea assaulted me. “Oh, God,” I whispered. “Help me.” My fingers fumbled, stil struggling against the lingering effects of the anesthesia.