by Colora, R.
I wait until the morning to return Michael’s call.
“I need the money for the abortion, Michael, and I’m going to need a ride to and from the clinic. I made an appointment for tomorrow,” I say into the phone.
“Well, I can give you the money, but I can’t drive you. It could get back to my parents that I was seen outside the clinic.”
“What if it gets back to my parents, Michael? Don’t you think they will be equally upset?”
“Okay, I will drop you off and then pick you up but I can’t wait with you.”
I close my eyes because at this exact moment I realize I wasn’t ready for the consequences of sex which meant I wasn’t ready to have sex to begin with.
Looking at the website, it says that I have to inform a parent, but I’m not really sure who I can tell. I walk to Percy’s house where her mother Maggie is cooking dinner,
“Maggie,” I say. She is startled and drops her spoon,
“Hey, Katherine, what brings you around?” she asks with a jovial smile.
“Aunt Maggie, I’m in trouble, and I can’t go to my parents.” I see the look on her face like she knows the next words that are going to come out of my mouth. “I’m pregnant, and I need a parent or guardian to know I’m having an abortion, but I can’t tell my parents. They will be so disappointed.” I start to cry, and my aunt moves me over to the table.
“Are you sure you want to have an abortion? Is that asshole boyfriend forcing you to?” She is angry, and I see the vein in her forehead starting to pop out.
“I don’t know, Aunt Maggie. I don’t know anything. I’m scared, and I’m dealing with this alone.” I'm crying so hard now I'm having trouble catching my breath “He told me he will give me the money to get rid of it, but that he won’t go with me. He said he would drop me off and pick me up.” Maggie sits in the chair next to me. “He is leaving for college tomorrow, and he didn’t even tell me. He said he was going to call me once he got there. Michael has changed so much in the last couple of months. He started hanging with the wrong crowd and was drinking, and I think he was doing drugs.” I wipe my nose with the sleeve of my shirt.
“Call him and tell him to bring the money in an envelope to the Denver Diner in one hour and that I will be meeting him. Tell him you don’t need a ride, that you have it worked out.”
So, I do. I call Michael and let him know to meet my Aunt Maggie and how much the abortion costs plus the medication I will need after. I wait at my Aunt Maggie’s house while she drives to meet him, and she comes back with two envelopes. One with double what the abortion cost and one is a letter from Michael. I take the letter and tear it into a hundred pieces. Everything Michael Kerrigan had to say to me he said in his room yesterday.
It’s the morning we arrive at the clinic, and there are protesters outside trying to hand me pamphlets and yelling at me that this doesn’t have to be my choice. They are holding awful signs and have shirts on with pictures of dead babies! My Aunt Maggie pushes through the throng of people, and we finally make it the reception area. She tell the receptionist that she is my mother and because of the resemblance they don’t question it. I fill out the forms, and my aunt sits next to me holding my hand while I wait for my name to be called.
Walking into the first room through the double doors the nurse brought me through, she takes my vitals and has me take a pregnancy test. They sit me in a little office, and I wait for the lady to come with my paperwork. It’s much colder back here than out front, and I can’t seem to stop my teeth from chattering while she asks me a whole bunch of questions. When she finishes the paperwork, I ask about payment, and she explains that the paperwork I filled out qualifies me for a free procedure. I walk back into the procedure area and see chairs lined up against the wall. Some of the occupants look off in the distance, lost in their own grief; some girls look unaffected lying back listening to music or reading books or magazines; others are crying. I’m not sure if the tears are from physical pain or emotional.
“Please come this way,” the nurse says. “We need to do an ultrasound to determine how far along you are. If you’re under nine weeks, you can choose to take the abortion pill but if you’re over nine weeks, then you need to have an in-clinic surgical procedure.” I can feel the panic starting to set in. The nurse takes my hand. “Listen, you haven’t made any decision yet. You can walk out of here right now if that’s what you want.” I nod but don’t respond. I just sit on the examining table in silence. The nurse instructs me to pull my shirt up, and she squirts some kind of gel on my stomach; it’s really cold. Slowly, she moves the wand around.
“You look to be about sixteen weeks so if you wanted to proceed today it would have to be a surgical abortion. I can explain the procedure, we have a coach that can come in and hold your hand while you have the procedure,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. I look at the small dot on the screen and then she turns a dial, and I hear it: I hear my baby’s heartbeat, and everything becomes so clear to me.
She goes to turn it off when she sees the tears running down my face, but I grab her hand. “Please, I just want to hear it a little longer.” I reach my hand out and touch the screen. She is clicking buttons, and I see pictures coming out the side of the machine. I don't even ask for them, I just snatch the pictures from the machine and grip them for dear life. I want to remember this moment; I want to remember the moment I stopped living for me, and I started living for my child. I look at the nurse and start getting off the exam table.
“I’m not doing it, can I please go?”
She smiles. “Yes, let me get you cleaned up and you can go. You have a few more weeks if you change your mind,” she adds.
“No, I know I want my baby even if no one else does. Thank you for being so nice,” I say before running to the waiting room.
I see my aunt Maggie, and when she sees me, she cries, “Oh, sweetie, I’m so happy you didn’t go through with it. It’s going to be hard, but you have me to help, and I will go with you to tell my brother and your mom.”
We walk out, and the protesters are still outside.
One of the protesters, a young girl, yells, “Why did you change your mind?”
“It wasn’t because you were protesting,” I yell back. “You’re making it harder for those girls and women in there. They come here scared and alone. They are about to make a really hard choice and people yelling at them and calling them baby killers isn't the way to get them to see your point. What you’re doing to other women is a real bitch thing to do!” She is shocked at my outburst, but my Aunt Maggie just pulls me to her car.
I wait for my parents to get home; Aunt Maggie and I are sitting at the table when they arrive. Quickly, I tell them everything: how Michael and I have been having sex for the last six months, how I found out I was pregnant, everything that happened and what was said between Michael and me. My father is upset his sister chose to take me instead of telling him, but my mother tells him Maggie did the right thing. My father is furious and wants to call Shamus Kerrigan right now and tell him about his son, but I remind them that the Kerrigan's own Denver.
“I’m telling Michael I had the abortion,” I say to my parents and Maggie. ”He doesn’t have to know about the baby. The people here gossip among themselves but never put our business out off the reservation”. I look my parents in the face. “I know you’re going to tell me I’m wrong, but I don’t want the Kerrigans coming in with all their money and power trying to take this baby away. Please understand.” My dad gets up and dials Michael’s number that has been on our refrigerator for the last two years
“No, it’s not Katherine,” my father says into the phone. “She had the abortion, and you are not to contact her ever again. Your invitation to our land has been rescinded, and if I ever find out you attempted to get in touch with my daughter I will call your parents and then I will tell everyone who will listen how you handled this situation. Am I making myself clear, Michael?” After a beat, my father hung up.r />
“I will call a council meeting I will let everyone know that business with the Kerrigans is to be terminated immediately and that the Kerrigans are prohibited from being guests on this Reservation. I won’t tell them why, but they will figure it out. You have the next six months to get your GED and then you have six months after the baby is born to enroll in college. We will figure everything out. I’m angry you didn’t come to me, Katherine, I always thought we had the kind of relationship that you could come to me if you were ever in any kind of trouble.” My father stood up and left the room with my mother following behind him not saying a word.
“Katherine, honey,” Maggie’s voice breaks my focus. “Pack a bag for a few days, and stay with me. Just give them a little while to process what has happened. Everything will be fine.”
I walk up to my room, and as I start packing, I notice all the pictures of Michael and me, and I start tearing everything apart. I run back downstairs and grab garbage bags. I fill them with stuffed animals and cards and deflated balloons; pictures and love notes; everything goes into the trash, and I close my door. I don’t say anything to my parents as I walk with Maggie out of the house. I broke my parents’ trust in me. I have to work on getting that back and have to work on putting Michael Kerrigan out of my mind and out of my heart.
Chapter 3
Michael
Katie showing up at my house without calling is strange. In the two years we have been together she has only been here a handful of times; we spend the majority of our time at her house or hanging out around town. I was planning on calling her later today to tell her I got accepted into Dartmouth. I know she is going to take it hard, we talked about it and at first I thought I would stay here and go to DU then she would join me two years later, but then the letter came telling me a spot had opened up at Dartmouth. How can I not go? It wouldn’t be fair to Katie to ask her to wait for the four years I will be away at school. So as hard as it’s going to be I’m going to tell her I want to take a break. I want to go to college and experience everything college had to offer: parties and girls.
I guess you can say I was a late bloomer. I was tall and awkward with braces and glasses. My skin was bad. And I had red hair. It wasn’t until this last summer that I started hitting the gym with my brothers, and my six-foot-four frame filled out with lean muscle. The braces came off last year, I got Lasik, and my skin cleared up. People always used to say Katie was out of my league, but I think we match now. We still look like an odd couple since she is petite and curvy in all the right places with dark hair and brown eyes. Her eyes are dark, but in the light they sparkle. She has dimples on both cheeks like I do, but hers are higher on her cheekbone, and she has skin that looks tan and healthy. I know I’m the only one for Katie when I’m done with school. I will come back, and we can get back together.
The last couple weeks she has been nagging me about my drinking and now she thinks because I take a pill here or there I’m some kind of drug addict. Sometimes I just need to loosen up, and the pills help me to do just that. Then she says the words that rock my world off its axis. Hearing Katie say she is pregnant causes my world to stop; I feel all the air get sucked out of the room. I know if my parents find out they will make sure we get married. I see how unhappy Liam is at times. While his friends are still single and dating, he has a wife and a son to take care of. I don’t want that for myself or Katie; we are just kids with our whole lives ahead of us. The minute I tell her to have an abortion I know I lose her. The look she gives me tells me I crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed. It isn’t even a look of shock; it’s a look of disgust. When Liam speaks from the door, I know I am going to have to tell my parents; he won’t keep this from them.
I don’t hear from Katie the rest of the day. The next day she calls and tells me she made an appointment, and I am so relieved we are dodging a bullet. I don’t want to fight; I don’t want our last conversation to be an argument. We had two good years together; I don’t want it to end badly. When she calls back again after I said I wouldn’t go with her to the abortion, she tells me she has a ride and to deliver the money to her aunt at the Diner in an hour. I go into my sock drawer and pull out two thousand dollars. Sitting at my desk, I write her a letter. I know it won’t make up for what is happening but if I could just explain…
Katie,
I know you are upset with me now, but I’m sure you will see this was the best for the both of us. We are so young and have so much life to experience. Maybe when I come back for Thanksgiving, we can meet and talk. I don’t want to break up on bad terms. I do love you, Katie; you were my first love. But, I am eighteen years old and don’t want to be a father or a husband right now. I hope you can forgive me.
-Michael
I seal the envelope with the money and seal the envelope with the letter when I see Liam standing at my doorway again.
“You know you’re making a mistake,” he says to me.
“No, Liam, you made the mistake. You gave up your life for your high school sweetheart and a baby. I’m not making the same mistake. I want a life; I want to enjoy college. I watch you walk around here miserable because you didn’t have a choice with Rose, and I’m sorry your life sucks but I’m going to Dartmouth, and no one and nothing is standing in my way.”
“First thing, little brother, you don’t know shit about Rose and me or our marriage, and if you ever call my son a mistake again, I will break your fucking face. Second, this is going to come back to bite you in the ass because the shit you try and bury and keep under wraps is always the stuff that gets exposed first. Katie is a sweet girl and what you just did to her, what you asked her to do, is really fucked up and you have to live with that so go have fun at college with your parties and girls but remember you traded your baby for all that.” As he walks away, I hear the front door open and slam shut, and I can hear his car starting and then fading as he drives off the estate.
Katie’s Aunt Maggie was always my favorite member of Katie’s family; she was funny and easy going. When I pull up to the Diner, she meets me at my car.
“I don’t need small talk,” she said. “Just give me what you’re supposed to and go about your business.”
“Please let me explain.” I try to say more, but she throws her hand up.
“May you feel nothing but sadness, emptiness, and loneliness until you make your wrongs right. You will never be blessed with love and children until you atone for what you have done to a daughter of the earth. I curse you, Michael Kerrigan.” With those words, she got in her car and left.
I got a call from Katie’s house the day of the abortion; it was her dad. He tells me never to contact her again and that I am no longer welcome on tribal land. Hanging up, I sit on my bed and feel nothing but sadness.
I lie in bed and stare at my ceiling when my mom knocks to tell me everyone is waiting for me at the dinner table. I break down crying, and she calls my father in the room. I tell them everything and that I know I made a mistake, I should have stood by Katie, and I should have listened to her and come to them for help. My mother cried for me; she was upset that I would basically force Katie into having an abortion and my father just got up and went to call Katie’s father.
“Well, Michael,” he says with his voice filled with rage. “You have nothing to worry about. Katie terminated the pregnancy like you asked, her father said he will return your money, they don’t want anything from us and now forty years’ worth of friendship is gone because my close friend told me as long as he lives he will never forgive what the Kerrigans took from him. So finish packing. I’m sure you don’t want to miss any social mixers at your new school.”
“Shamus!” my mom yells.
“SHAMUS MY ASS, ELENA! He pushed a scared sixteen-year-old girl into killing her baby—my grandchild—so he could go away to college instead of doing the right thing and coming to us. He gave the girl two thousand dollars and told her to handle it! What would we do if it was Stacy? He wouldn’t even go with her! He told her
he would pick her up and drop her off! Is that the fucking son I raised? No, that isn’t, so I’m telling him to pack his shit and get the fuck out of my house. I hope he enjoys Dartmouth.”
I have never in all eighteen years heard my dad raise his voice or curse at my mom. This was all my fault.
“He’s our son, Shamus, he made a bad choice.”
“No, don’t baby him. Making a bad choice is streaking across a football field, underage drinking, maybe trying pot— those are bad choices. How many times have we had this talk with our boys? How many times have we told them to come to us?”
He says nothing else before slamming my bedroom door. My mom sits with me and says, “Maybe you and Katie can work this out.”
I shake my head, and the tears start again. “I broke up with her. I told her I wanted to experience college.”
“Oh, honey, you have made such a mess of this whole thing I’m not sure I can help you fix this, son.” She gets up from the bed and walks to the door. “Finish packing, your flight leaves early in the morning, I can’t tell you everything will work out, only time will tell, honey.” My mom closes the door behind her and even at eighteen I know I destroyed my life and my happiness with a few simple dumb words.
Chapter 4
Katie
I scream. It’s pain like I have never felt before. It feels like my insides are being ripped apart. I roll off my bed and hit the floor. The light turns on, and it’s my parents.
“Joseph,” my mom says, trying to remain calm but I can see the panic in her face. “I need you to get the car the baby is on the way.”
“Mom, what’s happening? I can’t handle the pain,” I say, panting. “Mom, please help me.”