just fifteen thousand people living in a dump in the middle of Ohio,
which is just another, bigger dump.” “I like it.” “I don’t.” aBut
what do you expect to find in California?” “Are you kidding There’s a
million opportunities out there for a guy with a lot on the ball.”
aBut what do you expect to find there for you?” she asked.
He didn’t understand what she meant, he didn’t feel her slip the needle
in. “I just told you, baby. In California, there’s more opportunities
than anywhere else in the world. Los Angeles. That’s the place for
me. Hell, yes. A guy like me can go real far in a city like L.A.”
“Doing what?” “Anything.” “Such as?” “Absolutely anything.” “How
long have you been planning to go to L.A.?”
Sheepishly, he said, “For about a year now.” “You never told me.” “I
didn’t want to upset you.” “You were just going to quietly disappear.”
“Hey, no. No, I was going to keep in touch, baby. I even figured
maybe you’d come along with me.” aLike hell you did. Jerry, you have
to pay for the abortion.” “Why can’t you pay for it?” He was
whining.
“You had a job last summer. You’ve been working weekends just like
me.” aMy mother controls my savings account. There’s no way I can
withdraw that much cash without telling her why I need it. No way.”
“sO tell her.” “God, I can’t. She’d kill me.” “She’d scream a lot,
and you’d probably be grounded for a while.
But she’ll get over it.” “She won’t. She’ll kill me.” “Don’t be
pid. She won’t kill you.” “You don’t know my mother. She’s very
strict. And she’s . . .
mean sometimes.
Besides, we’re a Catholic family. My mother is very devout. Very,
very devout.
And to a devout Catholic, abortion is a terrible sin. It’s murder. My
father even does some free legal work for the Right-to-Life League.
He’s not so fanatical about religion as my mother is. He’s a pretty
straight guy, but I don’t think he’d ever approve an abortion. And I
know my mother wouldn’t. Not in a million years. She’d make me have
the baby. I know she would. And I can’t. I just can’t. Oh, God, I
can’t.”
She started to cry.
“Hey, baby, it’s not the end of the world.” He put an arm around
her.
“You’ll come through this okay. It’s not as bad as you think. Life
goes on, you know.”
She didn’t want to lean on him for either emotional or physical
support. Not on him, of all people. But she couldn’t help it. She
put her head on his shoulder, despising herself for this weakness.
“Easy,” he said. “Take it easy. Everything’s going to be just
fine.”
When the tears finally stopped flowing, she said, “Jerry, you’ve got to
help me. You’ve got to, that’s all.” “Well . . .”
Jerry, please.
“You know I would if I could.”
She sat up straight, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief.
“Jerry, part of the responsibility is yours. Part of–” “I can’t,” he
said firmly, taking his arm away from her.
“Just lend me the money. I’ll pay you back.” “You can’t pay me back
in just two weeks. And I’ll need every dollar I’ve got when I go to
California the first of June.” “Just a loan,” she said, not wanting to
beg but having no choice.
“I can’t, can’t, can’t!” He shouted like a child throwing a tantrum.
His voice was high, screechy. “Forget it! Just forget it, Amy! I
need every penny I’ve got for when I get out of this stinking town.”
Oh God, I hate him!
And she hated herself, too, for what she’d let him do.
“If you don’t at least lend me the money, I’ll call your parents.
I’ll tell them I’m carrying your child. I’ll put the heat on you,
derry.”
She didn’t think she really had the nerve to do something like that,
but she hoped the threat of it would make him be reasonable. “God help
me, I’ll even make you marry me if that’s the last resort, but I won’t
go down alone.”
“What do you want from me, for Christ’s sake?” “Just a little help.