“Oh, no. I couldn’t. It’d be awful.” “Look, I know it won’t be
pretty. There’ll be all sorts of screaming and hollering and
namecalling. They’ll dump a hell of a load of guilt on you. It’ll be
an ordeal, for sure. But they aren’t going to beat you up or kill
you.” aMy mother might.” “Don’t be silly. The old bitch will rant
and rave and make you feel miserable for a while. But let’s not lose
track of what’s important here.
The important thing is getting your ass into a clinic and getting that
baby scraped out of you as soon as possible.”
Amy winced at the other girl’s choice of words.
“All you have to do, ” Liz said, “is grit your teeth and sit through
all the shouting, and then they pay for the abortion.”
“No. You’re forgetting that my family is Catholic. They think
abortion is a sin.” “They might think it’s a sin, but they won’t force
a young girl like you to ruin her whole life. Catholics get abortions
all the time, no matter what they say.” “I’m sure you’re right,” Amy
said. “But my mother is too devout.
She won’t ever agree to it.”
“You really think she’d be willing to live with the shame of an
illegitimate grandchild right there in her own house?”
“To hurt me . . . and mainly to teach me a lesson . . . yes.”
“You’re sure?” “Positive.”
They sat in glum silence for a while.
On the jukebox, Donna Summer was singing about the price she had to pay
for love.
Suddenly Liz snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it!” “What?”
“Even Catholics approve of abortion if the mother’s life is in danger,
don’t they?” “Not all Catholics. Just the most liberal ones approve
of it even under those circumstances.”
“And your old lady isn’t liberal.” “Hardly.” aBut your father’s
better, isn’t he? At least about the religious stuff” “He’s not so
fanatical as Mama. He might agree to let me have an abortion if he
truly thought the baby would destroy my health.” “All right. So you
make him think it’s destroying your mental health.
Dig it?
You get suicidal. You threaten to kill yourself if you can’t have an
abortion.
Act like you’re half crazy. Be hysterical. Be irrational. Scream,
cry, then laugh without having any reason to laugh, then cry again,
break things . . .
If all of that doesn’t convince them, then you can make a phony attempt
to slash your wrists, just a big enough cut to smear some blood
around.
They won’t be sure whether you botched it on purpose or by accident,
and they won’t want to take any chances.”
Amy slowly shook her head. “It wouldn’t work.”
“Why not?” “I’m not a good actress.”
Y’ll bet you’d fool them.”
“Carrying on like that, pretending . . . Well, I’d feel stupid.”
“Would you rather feel pregnant?” “There must be another way.” aLike
what?”
“I don’t know.” “Face it, kid. This is your best shot.” “I don’t
know.”
Y do know.”
Amy sipped her Coke. After a couple of minutes of thought, she said,
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll try the suicide bit.” “It’ll work.
Just as smooth as glass. You’ll see. When will you tell them?”
“Well, I had been thinking about breaking the news right after
graduation if I couldn’t find another way out by then.” “That’s two
weeks! Listen, kid, the sooner the better.”
“Two weeks won’t hurt anything. Maybe in that time I’ll find some way
to come up with the money myself.” “You won’t.” “Maybe.”
“You won’t,” Liz said sharply. “Anyway, you’re only seventeen.
You probably couldn’t get an abortion without your parents’ consent,
not even if you had the money to pay for it. I’ll bet you have to be
at least eighteen before they let you have one on your own say-so.”
Amy hadn’t considered that possibility. She simply didn’t think of
herself as a minor, she felt a hundred and ten years old.
“Get your head on straight, kid,” Liz said. “You wouldn’t take my
advice about the pill. Now get your shit together this time, will
you?
Please, please, for Christ’s sake, listen to me. The sooner the