Long Blue Line: Based on a True Story

by E. McNew

  The party concluded with Josh and I locked in his bedroom. He turned on one of my favorite songs. He was intensely looking into my eyes as if he were silently expressing his feelings of his instant love.

  When the party died down and the light weights passed out, Josh walked me home. I lived about a half mile down the road. I was excited to know that he lived so close to me. That would make it easier for me to pursue him. He led me up the two wooden steps to my front door. It was an awkward moment. I didn’t know if he wanted to kiss me goodnight or just see me off like another meaningless girl. Before I could think much more about it, Josh wrapped his long arms around my waist and told me that I had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. He called me sweetie before kissing me and saying goodbye. This was the first time a man had spoken to me with such sincerity and respect. To add to my admiration for him, I was delighted to learn that he was a clean, passionate kisser. I could not stand it when a gorgeous guy was a sloppy kisser. It truly gagged me when a date completely ruined the entire outing with a slimy tongue. Definite deal-breaker. I didn’t have to worry about that with Josh.

  I immediately developed strong feelings for this guy. He treated me as if I were a grown woman - something I had wanted to be for so long. I was sick and tired of other people thinking that they knew what was best for me. I wanted to be ahead of the game. I wanted to have more than any other girl my age, even if it meant finding it in an outrageous way. Josh made me feel like I had a chance to become an adult sooner. I stumbled to my room and fell asleep with a smile.

  I woke up the next day to a knock at my door. Josh casually walked in and started chatting away. Ok, good…he still likes me, I thought. I was slightly taken by surprise with his sudden visit, but I wasn’t complaining. I was happy to see him, and I was sure that my mom would like him too. I was right. He fit perfectly into our family. Right away Josh was great with helping out around the house when he visited; he raked up pine needles in the backyard, and he loved to cook when anyone in the family was hungry. Josh was very talkative and made a great first impression. He was skinny as well as tall and always dressed in a plain white tee shirt and jeans. I couldn’t believe this handsome and mature guy wanted me. No other boy in our grade had facial hair and a deep voice like he did. I was happy to have successfully found a man. Being with Josh lifted my self-esteem and gave me the confidence I had been lacking. He made me feel like I was worth it. Josh made me feel loved and adored and wanted. I felt as if I were finally whole and needed by another person.

  Our first serious conversation came after the first time we had sex, which was introduced by him. It was the age factor. I assumed that because he was a senior he would be about 17 years old. He told me he was 19. I wondered if he was a little too old for me, but I quickly erased the thought from my mind. I was nervous about telling him how young I really was. I decided to do some rounding. I boldly told him that I was fifteen. I was still two months away from that but, in my teenage mind, it was close enough. He sighed with relief and said that he was hoping that I was at least fifteen. I ended up telling the truth a few weeks later. By that time, he was already hooked and had said the “L” word so there was no turning back.

  We were together every day for every possible minute. Our young relationship never felt young, it always felt mature. I was in love with Josh. The vision that blasted through my mind of the day we met never vanished. It became more vivid, and as we spent more time together, I began to build ideas off of it. He carried himself as if he were my husband - the husband that I wanted. He made me breakfast, gladly catered to my every need, and frequently spoke of our future together. We had our fights, but he wrote me love letters. His spelling was horrible, but I easily looked beyond that. He constantly showed me small acts of kindness, and often, the small acts were what meant the most.

  Officially a couple and coming up on our 5 month anniversary, Josh walked me to the chain-linked gate that began the path to my first day of high school as a sophomore. He kissed me and said he would be waiting there for me at the end of the day. As I approached, my friends gave me a look of curiosity and slight confusion. They never thought that I would take a one-night-stand so seriously.

  I attended my scheduled classes and could hardly wait for the last bell to ring. Sure enough, Josh was waiting for me at the gate. He had a turkey and cheese sandwich in his hand, knowing how hungry I would be by the end of the day. He always stayed true to his word and had my back, and that made me love him even more.

  Later that evening, my oldest sister, Lilah, stopped by the house. She had been cleaning her apartment all day and wanted me to help watch my 2 year-old niece, Summer. Lilah had left home about a year earlier. She and my mother had gotten into some battles over some serious and some not so serious issues. The house had become much more peaceful with Lilah at a distance although I occasionally missed her quirky humor. She had met a man the night before while out with her friends at the casino, and he wanted to take her out again. She spoke of Huey like he was a true keeper. He was even a doctor! Gross. He must be like thirty something! I thought. Why my twenty-one year old sister was attracted to this older man I’ll never know. I was later to discover he was in his 50’s!

  “I have school tomorrow and I have to do homework. I want to hang out with Josh tonight too,” I told her. She looked disappointed but was understanding. She called the house about an hour later. “Huey says he’ll pay you to babysit, and you can just hang out with Josh at my apartment,” she said. “Ok, I guess that works,” I replied, trying to conceal my excitement.

  I was extremely happy about this new babysitting gig. I knew that Josh and I could spend more time alone, and I wanted to see what it was like to spend time with him in an unsupervised environment. It turned into an every weekend job. Lilah and Huey spent their nights at clubs playing poker. Lilah sometimes didn’t return until ten in the morning. I would tell her that Josh had left when it got dark and that he slept at his own house and he would only come by to visit and bring food. Eventually Lilah gave in when I played the “scared” card. Eventually I assured her that Josh would sleep away from me on the floor. That was partially true - at least until Summer fell asleep. As soon as we heard Lilah rustling with her key to unlock the front door, we practically threw each other in the opposite direction. We just couldn’t stay off of each other. Josh and I were becoming very serious, very fast, and on a totally new level.

  Not long into the school year, my health class teacher, Mrs. B., announced that it was time to take home the simulated baby dolls for our 100-point assignment. I had seen other students walking around with these dolls, and I always thought that they looked so pathetic. I thought this would be more of an embarrassment than anything. A week later I was waiting in line at the end of the school day for my doll to be issued to me for the weekend. It was pretty awkward accepting a fake baby and being expected to hold and treat it as if it were real. I was issued the only black baby in the classroom. It was a little boy, plastic penis and all. When I picked up the baby, the first thing that I noticed was that it was actually heavy. The baby probably weighed about eight pounds. The second thing I noticed was that it smelled so good. It smelled like baby powder, clean and fresh. The teachers must have cleaned it and doused it with the baby powder to give it a more real effect. I think I named him too - probably something similar to Josh Jr. I would have to explain to Josh that Jr. was born with a very rare genetic makeup. Nonetheless, he’s our precious son! I laughed to myself.

  As a child, I had periodically adopted a variety of baby animals so I figured that it couldn’t be too difficult to deal with this doll that wasn’t even real. One of my first pets was a tiny mouse that I stole from the pet store. I stole Rupert out of fear that he would be fed to a snake and I wanted to spare him. Merri told me that there was no way he would survive because he was just a few days old. I took this as a challenge and spent my last twenty dollars on a small cage and cedar. I set lit candles next to Rupert’s small cage every nigh
t for the first week to help keep him warm and cozy.

  Rupert kept me company for the next six months. After coming home from school one snowy day, he was dead on my floor and torn to shreds. The family cat, Astro, (I called him Ass for obvious reasons) had ripped my little friend to pieces. I became hysterical and ran downstairs to my mother who then asked my pet-expert sister to clean the mess. She did - with no argument. I think she felt bad for me.

  Over the weekend, I took care of my “baby” when it cried. I had been instructed to insert a key into its back to calm it down. This baby simulator put ideas into my head that caring for a baby would be as simple as turning a key. I quickly started to enjoy carrying the baby around and pretending that I was a mommy. I wanted to practice, and I wanted my doll to be real. After I turned my doll into class the next week I became much more interested in my health class. I wanted to learn more about babies. However, I failed the assignment miserably. Apparently I hadn’t woken up to calm his little butt down on numerous occasions in the middle of the night. Oops. It was freckin’ 3:00 a.m.! I thought to myself, as I stared at my big, red “F.”

  It was about 6:00 o’clock on a Friday night, and as if we were already living together, Josh and I were making my niece, Summer, a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner. Lilah was, once again, heading out with her doctor boyfriend. I had finally met Huey - grey hair and all. He was oddly friendly, but I still thought he was way too old to be dating my sister. It grossed me out, but I loved Lilah and wanted her to be happy. It was just another babysitting night and Josh was getting bored. He invited his older brother, Jed, to come over with his fiancé and their six-month-old baby. I had expected both of them to be at least in their early twenties. Jed was 21, but his fiancé was only 16. Dawn was a really nice girl, and she seemed like a very happy mommy too. Her little baby girl was the cutest thing I had ever laid eyes on.

  As I was listening to Dawn talk about the new neighborhood she and Jed were living in, an idea exploded in my mind like a rocket blasting into the night. This was the best idea I had ever come up with! As Dawn was talking, I attentively nodded and smiled while I excitedly thought to myself, I’ll have my own baby! My mom will have no choice but to kick me out, and we can be our own little family! Jed and Dawn made it look so easy. It almost looked fun. I didn’t really want to be kicked out of my home, and I definitely didn’t want to upset my mom. Unfortunately, there was no way that I could have seen that far into the future. I assumed that it would be a minor conflict and forgiveness would surely come sooner than later. My newly acquired vision was that of my new family living together in an adorable little apartment. I saw a happy baby and a husband that worked hard every day to support us. I was a happy housewife wearing a polka dot apron and making cookies with the new offspring. It was the perfect fantasy.

  I wanted to be an independent adult so desperately. I wanted to get married and have babies and live in that adorable house with no parent to answer to. I just wanted to grow up. I wanted to make my own choices, and have those choices respected. This new idea quickly became an obsession that would change the course of my entire life. I started spending my days coming up with ideas to expedite my goal of becoming pregnant. I first searched online.

  At the age of 15 I learned about fertility and the science behind it. I researched different tips and methods for “TTC,” or trying to conceive. I was very secretive and subtle about this mission. I printed out a chart to track my periods so I would know when I was ovulating, and hid the chart under my bed. I started taking my basal body temperature and drinking cough syrup with expectorant that was rumored to help. I had a plan in case I was caught or questioned about anything: the thermometer and cough syrup were under my bed because I felt like I was “getting sick.” No one can argue with that, I thought to myself.

  I started eating a ton of broccoli. The folic acid in broccoli was supposed to help prevent serious birth defects. I drank extra water and tried to avoid drinking alcohol. I was preparing my body for what I knew it could handle. I was treating this as an adult. This preparation only motivated me to go to any length to make this baby a reality.

  I became obsessed with finding more stories about getting pregnant. I found reality shows on television that documented couples having a baby for the first time. My small 14” television set had a timer, and I set it to power on every morning at 9:00. I had to have all of the information I could possibly get. I researched the subject with true diligence. These couples on the reality shows were much older than I, but that was never considered.

  I watched a movie on one of those Women’s Network channels about a fifteen-year-old girl who accidently became pregnant. I watched the movie intensely; nothing in the world could have disrupted my attention. See, I tried to rationalize that it’s not all that bad. It happens all the time! There’s a movie about it! It’s not like I’m only thirteen or something. I had concluded that fifteen was the earliest acceptable age to have a baby. This movie did not scare or intimidate me; it gave me even more ideas and desires to become pregnant. It was a glamorous thing from what I could tell. I was already mature and grown up enough to make my own decisions. I was sure of it.

  After watching show after show and browsing the web for hours on end looking for ways to become pregnant, I went to the storage shed in my mother’s backyard where Lilah had left Summer’s baby items from when they both lived at home. Lilah had become pregnant when she was a senior in high school. I was only eleven at the time and I was so stunned I could hardly reply to my mother when she announced it.

  The only words I could mutter in response were “Lilah had sex?” I was just about insulted. I look back now and realize that I was probably mostly let down. My big sister was supposed to stay perfect forever. She was very popular and had the funniest sense of humor. She also had a true innocence about her, and I was confused how a person could hide such a big thing. Sex, to an 11 year old, is a completely foreign topic that does not have any immediate reality to it. I thought that I would, for sure, wait until I was at least 30, or possibly never even take part in such a thing at all. I honestly didn’t even really understand how it worked.

  I wanted to see what I could find in the shed to prepare for my baby. I hauled an entire crib and a mattress up the stairs into my messy closet. For days I looked through and sorted bags and bags of baby clothes. My mom and sisters hardly noticed what I was doing. If they did notice and ask, I would explain that I was just doing some cleaning because the shed was a mess. I did tell them the crib mattress was in my room so that Josh didn’t have to sleep on the hard floor for the nights that he was too tired or drunk to go home. Josh occasionally spent the night at our home once my family grew to love him. The rule was that my bedroom door remained open and he slept away from my bed on the floor. We were more excited about the fact that we were trusted enough to do this rather than actually spending the night together. On weekends Josh was usually either too drunk to walk home or arguing with his alcoholic mother. We were patient enough to reserve most of our inappropriate contact to times when we knew we would not be caught.

  Josh pedaled up on his bike when I was outside folding baby gowns and sorting through items that I didn’t want and would donate. I neatly folded up the baby outfits that I found to be acceptable, put them in my purple duffel bag, and hid it in my closet. Josh looked at the tiny pink dresses and socks. “We should have a baby, that would be so cool!” he said, half kidding. That gave me butterflies and encouraged my quest to become pregnant.

  By the end of summer vacation, Josh was out of high school and working at an oil-change auto service station. I had not told him my plans. There were times that he mentioned how awesome it would be to have a baby, but nothing direct. I took his indirect comments as approval. Josh was never concerned with using condoms or birth control.

  I began to plan our future together as parents. I would occasionally look at the local classifieds to see the rental rates for apartments. I constructed a budget for us but neglected
to take into consideration utility bills, auto insurance or medical insurance…pretty much everything important. I took pregnancy tests from the local department store every month for four months. They always came back negative. But I am doing everything right! I would say to myself.

  Giving up on getting pregnant after several negative pregnancy tests, I decided that I would not take another one until my period was at least three days late. I was sick of being disappointed when the tests came back negative.

  School was tiring, and I was getting sick of waiting to be free to move out of my house. I became desperate for a break. I wanted to spend even more time learning about becoming pregnant, and my forced education was getting in the way of that. I decided that I could probably get at least a break for a week from school if I could find a way to get suspended. To make that happen, I waited for the perfect moment to start a fight. I picked a fight with a girl in my grade. She had it coming though. The night before, she was sending messages to me online. “Your head is way too big for your body. Pick up a fork, stab it with food, and put it in your mouth. Everyone knows your anorexic.” She taunted me until I just had to get off of the computer. I didn’t even know she hated me in the first place. And yes I was skinny, but I sure as hell ate my food! This girl was now my perfect target and at the perfect time. She called me a bitch in the hallway after the lunch bell rang. I dropped my books and attacked her. From stories I heard after the fact, I pushed her about 15 feet down the hallway. I was mad and ready to be suspended. The fight lasted only a few minutes, but there weren’t any school employees who witnessed it. I was bummed. I ended up getting Saturday school once word of the fight spread to the teachers. My plan had backfired and I was pissed. The girl I beat up came to school the next day with a considerably bruised face. I couldn’t get myself suspended on purpose, even if I tried. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m by no means bragging about this fight. It was stupid. It was a desperate attempt to find my education by other means, even if only for a week.