October Breezes

by Maria Rachel Hooley

  “Everything al right?” Jimmy asked from the other side.

  “Fine,” I gushed. “It’s al fine.” Tears burned my eyes and I told myself not to cry. This wasn’t the end of my life. I could start over. Yet, even as I puled my pants up, I could fe el more blood and some cramping. What did it mean?

  I washed my face, patted my hair into place, and walked into the halway. The cramping bent me over slightly. Jimmy grabbed my forearm. “You’re white as a ghost. You al right?”

  “I’m fine. There’s some bleeding.”

  He scanned my features. “You think you should see a doctor, Skye?”

  I straightened and puled away. “No, it’s okay.”

  “What if it’s not?” His eyes burrowed into me. “You could bleed to death.” He reached into his pocket for his keys. “I think we should go to the emergency clinic."

  “No.” I shook my head adamantly. I folded my arms across my chest. It wasn't much bravado because I knew if he wanted to, he could haul me over his massive shoulder and take me wherever he wanted, but I knew he wouldn't. “I’m not going. I’ve seen enough doctors for a month. I just want to go home.” I pushed the hair in my face behind my ears.

  “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  I laughed halowly, causticaly. “Don’t worry. My mom wil be home soon. I won’t be alone for long. Even if something does happen, it’s not your fault, Jimmy.” I patted his hand, and damned if I didn’t feel my eyes tearing up again. “You didn’t make this mess or pay to fix it. You just drove me.” I looked down the halway. “Now can you get me home?”

  “Sure.”

  We fel silent on the way home, and when Jimmy puled into my driveway, I offered a weak smile. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

  He returned the smile. “I’m glad I could help. I just wish it would have been under better circumstances that we got to know each other.”

  “Me, too.” I closed the car door and walked inside, relieved Mom hadn’t gotten home. My secret remained undiscovered. Jimmy waited until I’d unlocked the door and headed into the house before driving away. Once inside, I headed to my room. “Don’t think about it,” I whispered quietly, but I couldn’t stop.

  I could feel myself stil passing blood. No matter what, I wouldn’t ask for help. I’d made this choice, and no matter the cost, I wouldn’t tel anyone. I looked at the stuffed animals lying on my bed. One shelf held the books I’d liked when I was smal and the journals

  I’d kept for years. On one wal, I spotted the fabric-covered corkboard with pictures of Devin and me covering it. I plucked the thumbtack from a ninth-grade prom picture of Devin and me. Although the camera ha d caught us smiling, I remembered how much of a façade that had been. The anger had started that year as I kept trying to understand how my dad could just leave. The only conclusion I had reached was that I had driven him away. Since that photo, I had pushed Devin away too, constantly testing him to see how far I could go.

  The photo slipped and fluttering to the ground. Now I knew. He' d never forgive me, and it had been my fault. With trembling hands I picked up the picture and put it back. I swalowed hard, seeing for the first time how many good things I’d had, even without my father, and how I could judge him when I hadn’t even given the child who'd been inside of me a chance?

  This room, these things, this life belonged to someone else, someone who had died at that clinic. I leaned against the door, crying. The sobs punched me, and I slid until I hit the floor. I stayed there until I couldn’t cry anymore. Then I went to bed.

  * * *

  It was dark, so dark I couldn't see right in front of me.

  I tried to feel my way through the blackness, but I couldn't latch onto anything. Where was I? A bright light shone ahead, and I scrambled toward it. Darkness ended in a room so bright I had to shield my eyes. White walls, white floor, white ceiling. At my feet lay naked, broken dolls. One had lost an arm, another one a leg. One was headless. All were bloody Voices.

  “Is she out?”

  There was a stretcher in the center of the room, and my body lay upon it. A nurse leaned over me. I wore a hospital gown just as at the clinic.

  “Yes, Dr. Sims, she’s out. We can start.”

  “No!” I yelled. “I’ve changed my mind." But the me on the table didn't move, and she was the one they saw.

  To my left stood a monitor, and on the screen the lines jumped and dipped, making weird peaks and valleys before falling into a sudden flat line. The nurse's gaze jerked toward it. “Doctor, she’s crashing! We’re losing her.”

  He shrugged, pulling off his bloody gloves and throwing them into a trash bin. “She deserves it. Maybe we can save the baby.”

  * * *

  I jerked upright, shaking so hard my stomach clenched. Sweat glossed my body, and perspiration ran down my face. My stomach ached, but I figured I was al right—as al right as I was ever going to be. That baby was dead.

  Glancing out the window, I realized night had darkened the sky. I looked at the clock. 8:00. Mom had to be home. Maybe she just hadn’t bothered to wake me. I grabbed a tissue and wiped my face, but after the sweat was gone, my pale cheeks stil hinted at something amiss. I just had to hope she hadn’t seen it.

  Struggling to regain my composure, I ambled down the stairs and into the dining room. Mom sat on the sofa next to Warren. Although they had been talking in low tones, when I lingered in the doorway, Warren smiled. “Hey, Skye.”

  “Hi.” I shoved my hands into my pockets, crossed the room, and sat in the recliner.

  “Feel better after your nap?” Mom asked.

  I shrugged. “I was fine before my nap. What made you think I was sick?”

  She leaned on Warren’s shoulder. “You didn't look right, and you didn’t seem to want to wake up so I thought I’d just put your plate in the microwave.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I started toward the kitchen.

  “Skye, can we talk for a minute?” She waited until I joined them before looking at Warren and then back. “Warren and I are going to Las Vegas this weekend to get married, but we want your blessings."

  I felt a smile burst across my face. "That's great!" I gushed, first hugging Mom then Warren.

  "How do you feel about a trip?”

  I swalowed hard and smiled. “Mom, I’m happy you're getting married, but you need to spend the weekend with each other.” I raised my hands and said, “And no, I’m not planning anything wild or crazy. No one wil step in this house except me.”

  “Sure you don’t want to go?” Warren squeezed my hand.

  “We’d love to have you.” Inside, panic squeezed me so tightly it was hard to breathe. Why are you being so nice to me? I don’t deserve it. I’ll never deserve it again.

  I forced a wan smile as I squeezed back. “It’s not that I don’t want to go. But you both could use a Skye-free weekend.” I wrapped my arms around my abdomen, trying to stop trembling.

  “You al right?” My mom straightened and leaned forward, her smile waning slightly. “You stil seem pale.”

  “I’m okay.” I hedged toward the kitchen. “I’m going to eat, okay?”

  Mom nodded. “Okay. Have you seen Devin today? He came looking for you yesterday before you’d made it home, and I forgot to tel you.” She looked into Warren’s eyes and smiled. “I got… distracted.”

  Oh, God. I cringed, shaking my head. “No, Mom, I didn’t.” I took another step toward the doorway. “Maybe I’l cal him before I eat.” I turned and tried not to speed my steps, at least until I hit the foot of the stairway and then took the stairs two at a time, rampaging to my room. By the time I closed my bedroom door, the tears flowed, and I doubled over.

  Devin knew. That was what ha d brought him here.

  Bethany had told him. Perhaps he might have forgiven what I’d already done, but this—this was unforgivable, and I knew it. I drew my knees to my chest and leaned against the doorway.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Fr
om the floor, I watched night weave its spel and traced the path of dawn across my bedroom. Every time I’d start to drift off, I’d shake myself awake, preferring reality to the horrible dreams. By late morning, I’d forced myself to shower. Amazingly, I survived on auto-pilot. Of course, what I’d planned to do required me to feel, to talk about, to accept the reality I tried so hard to escape. I shrouded myself in a thick grey sweater and jeans as I headed downstairs. Although I’d expected Mom to be making breakfast, silence filed the empty house. In the kitchen, I spotted a note propped against the fruit bowl.

  I quickly picked it up an unfolded a message from Mom.

  She and Warren had gone shopping for their trip next weekend.

  With trembling hands, I refolded and replaced it, then I grabbed my coat and keys and headed towards Devin’s house. As I stepped outside, I surveyed the sky. Restrained snow puffed out the clouds.

  By tonight there would be more. A truck rumbled down the street, sprinkling salt on the snow and ice, turning the snow grey. Winter in Ilinois, gotta love it. The cold forced me to shove my hands deep in my pockets, and my breath came out in wispy funnels that dissipated on ascent.

  “Why are you doing this to yourself?” I whispered, shaking my head, already knowing what was ahead but unable to stop the train from wrecking.

  I have to. Maybe it won’t make any difference, but I can’t leave it like this. Approaching Devin's, I remembered al the times he'd helped get me out of the messes I’d gotten into. I clenched my teeth, realizing he had tried one last time, for al the good it had done. He couldn’t save me from myself anymore than I could.

  I looked at his car, and I thought of al the times I’d ridden with him, never knowing he’d loved me. How could he believe in me enough to offer himself to me.

  Swalowing hard, I forced myself to ring the bel. Please, I thought, Please, God, give me the right words. Don’t let me hurt anyone else.

  On the second ring, Devin’s mother answered. “Skye?”

  I nodded, “Yes, Ma’am. I know Devin is stil grounded, but I wondered if I could see him for a few minutes. It’s important, and it won't take long.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t see the harm in that. He’s been trying to mend his ways. I’l send him out—unless you want to come in.” She opened the door wider in invitation.

  I shook my head. “I’d rather just stay here, if it’s al the same.”

  “I’l send him out.”

  A couple of minutes passed before Devin finaly came to the door. At first, we just looked at each other, neither of us sure what to say. Finaly, I broke the silence. "Mom said you came by."

  "Yeah." He nodded curtly. “Why didn’t you cal me on Thursday? Bethany said you were in trouble.”

  I chewed my lower lip. “My mom didn’t give me the message until late last night. She’s been tied up with Warren and wedding plans.”

  Devin set his hands on his hips. “So what's going on, Skye? What kind of trouble?”

  I looked at his neck, trying to see if he stil wore the necklace but the tel-tale bump seemed absent. I folded my arms across my chest. “There’s no trouble, Devin.” I turned my back to him, trying not to cry. I chewed my lip so hard it bled. Any physical pain was better than this. “Nothing you need to get me out of. After al, you warned me, and I didn’t listen.”

  Frowning, Devin stepped out. “Damn it, Skye, you’re not making sense. What kind of trouble? It’s not like you’ve been seeing Kelin since the party….” He looked down, his voice dying away as he calculated days. “Tel me it’s not what I’m thinking.” A hard frown furrowed his forehead with worry lines.

  "Not anymore.” My tone sounded so normal. So autopilot.

  Devin grabbed my arms. “Tel me you didn’t. Tel me you stil have a choice.”

  I stood perfectly stil and averted my gaze. “I…can’t.”

  He slowly released me, one finger at a time. “You had an abortion, didn’t you?” He asked softly in a voice that implied no question before stepping back, his gaze burning through me.

  I took a deep breath, praying I could get through this.

  “I….” My voice trailed off.

  Devin’s eyes narrowed to slants. “You did.” He stepped back from me and his arms slowly lowered, his fingers curled in and straightened repeatedly as though he had no clue what to do with them.

  “It’s not like I had choices,” I finaly said in a raspy voice.

  I savagely jerked a strand of hair from my eyes and pinned it behind my ear.

  “Oh, realy.” He shook his head. “Did you try to talk to your mom? Or even me? I would have tried to help.”

  "It wasn't your baby. It was Tyler's, and God save the world from another of him."

  Devin, his face pale, shook his head slowly as if he were stunned. "I can't believe you slept with him, Skye. He's scum."

  A voice inside urged me to tel him the whole story, but I couldn't, not after going to so much trouble to hide it. I zipped my coat. “Besides, you didn’t want to talk to me anymore, and my mom wouldn’t have understood.”

  “Did you try, Skye?” he asked louder. “No,” he answered, pacing around me. “I'm angry, yes, and I think we both understand why, but that doesn’t mean if you’re realy in trouble I won’t help. Goddamn it, Skye, I came over yesterday because Bethany thought I was your last hope."

  “You told me you didn’t want to pick up the pieces.” I shivered despite my coat. “That’s why I didn’t tel you.”

  “And this was your answer?”

  I reached for his arm, but the moment I touched him, he glared at me. “No matter what I do, I can’t help you, Skye. Half the time you don’t want to listen, and the other half it’s already too late for whatever I might say.” He stepped back. “I don’t know you. The girl I knew wouldn’t have done this.” I started to protest, but he waved me to silent. “Look, you’ve made it clear you don’t want this friendship, and I’ve known al along you don’t want a relationship. But I can’t take this kind of push and pul. We need to go our separate ways.” He started to go inside.

  “Is that your idea or Bethany’s?” As soon as I’d spoken, I regretted those words, but I couldn’t take them back.

  He stopped dead in his tracks. “Don’t go there.

  Whatever's going on with Bethany isn’t a s important as what’s happening here.” He opened the door and stepped inside, leaving me in the cold. I waited, hoping he would come back out, but he didn't.

  My reasons for the abortion didn’t change what I had done. Perhaps if I’d told him earlier about the party, he would have listened and come to terms with it, but this after-the-fact revelation only made it harder for him not to judge me.

  Al the way home I looked at a world so different than the one I’d seen last week. I kept trying to find security in living down the road from my best friend, but he wasn't my best friend anymore.

  Our friendship, though incredibly strong, had never been unbreakable.

  I’d made it half-way home when I saw the red Camry that Bethany owned driving toward Devin’s. She must have seen me as wel because she stopped the car and got out. Although I heard her cal my name, I kept walking, trying to ignore her, at least until she ran and stepped into my path.

  “I’m trying to talk to you.”

  “Get out of my way.”

  She shook her head. “No, Skye. Not this time.”

  I shoved my hands into my pockets. “What do you want?

  You got Devin. Isn’t that enough?” I tried to brush past her, but she refused to let me by.

  “Devin and I are friends. If you two would get past this, you’d realize that.”

  My fingers clenched the pockets' insides. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, especialy since you helped him discover my…situation.” I rushed past her.

  “Maybe if you’d been honest, he could have helped you, but you didn’t trust him, did you?”

  I slowly turned. “It was never about trust, Bethany. Devin sees the world
as flawed but wonderful. Some flaws he can’t accept.” A tear spiled down my face, and I savagely brushed my hand across my cheek. “Congratulations, you figured out how to make him hate me. You won.”

  I started running, but no matter how far or fast I ran, I could never escape. Never.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Although I had prayed for a miracle to stop school before Monday, I would have settled for a natural disaster. As neither appeared, I dressed as usual. My reflection showed dark shadows beneath my eyes from lack of sleep. The nightmares stil came frequently. Lately, even watching television proved helish because of al the ads for baby food, diapers, toys, and everything else.

  Everywhere I looked I saw babies. I even found a story about abortion in one of my magazines, which I threw against the wal before crumpling the whole thing and throwing it into the trash. I couldn't face it.

  As I couldn't get out of school, I selected a navy sweatshirt from the Wildlife Preservation Federation and jeans, but these, too, seemed different, and I wondered if I looked different. Al these changes went back to the transformation to the person I’d become instead of the person I’d been.

  Perhaps I should have asked my mom for a ride to school, as it was ten degrees outside, but I didn’t realy want to be close to anyone, especialy someone who had an uncanny ability to read me.

  The only exception was when she was angry--the fury compromised her judgment. But right now, she'd have smiled, at least until the truth came out. Since I had yet to become a skiled liar, I didn’t want her around.

  So I walked, the whole time regretting not bringing gloves.

  When my skin turned red, I shoved my hands in my pockets. I arrived about ten minutes before the first bel, just enough time to stow my books in my locker. Before I shut the locker door, I peered into the mirror hanging on it, and saw someone in a letter jacket stood behind me.

  “Did you have fun at the clinic?”