Midge tucked her notebook and her textbook in her left arm as she climbed the stairs to second floor. She had dreaded this day for two weeks. It seemed strange to her that now that the infamous date had arrived she found herself calm and collected.
Mrs. Schank had planned a class debate for her third period social issues class. The topic was abortion vs. adoption. Two weeks ago the class had debated abstinence vs. responsible sex. The proponents of sexual activism were winning that day, hands down, and Midge had had no interest in adding her own two cents’ worth to the other side of the debate, despite Mrs. Schank’s asking, towards the end of the period, whether she cared to comment.
No, she hadn’t cared to. Nick was in the same class, and he had said nothing either. He wasn’t a class mouth, anyway, so when, just about three minutes before the bell, he raised his hand, it seemed to surprise even Mrs. Schank.
“Yes, Nick?”
Everyone turned around to look at him in the second to the last seat on the outside row. Midge remembered catching an involuntary gasp before anybody could notice. She held her breath in trepidation.
“As you all know,” Nick had said, with a wry expression on his face, “I’ve been down this road before. Everything was cool, and I was prepared. We were prepared.” He stole a glance around the room, his eyes meeting Midge’s for a split second in the sweep. “Sometimes, failed plans have no lasting consequences. That’s not the case with casual sex. Failed plans mean altered lives—permanently. So if you like a care-free life, you’re probably better off choosing abstinence.”
A hush had fallen on the room, and Nick started turning red. Midge remembered thinking how handsome he was, with his chiseled features, but far more appealing to her was his blunt manner totally free of cockiness or arrogance. She knew him well enough to know that he had purposed beforehand to make the comment, and that he’d waited until he felt the time was just right to speak out. With the red flush now encompassing his entire face, his essential shyness surfaced as he half-sheepishly concluded, “Well, that’s all I have to say.”
Mrs. Schank had then called for a quick, eyes-closed, hands-up vote. She reported eighteen in favor of abstinence and ten supporting responsible safe sex.
Now, two weeks later, Midge wondered what Nick would contribute—if anything—to today’s debate. Thinking back to those hard weeks finishing up her sophomore year when she felt so totally alone, she remembered the bitterness she’d felt towards Nick at that time when he’d done everything in his power to convince her to have an abortion. Even now, the idea of his wanting to withhold life from little Nicky made her jaw tighten. Well, if he said anything today, she was prepared to be as candid as he had been in the last debate. She had nothing to hide and a very precious life to defend.
“Bring it on, Nick,” she challenged, under her breath. She walked into the classroom and found her seat, noting that Nick hadn’t yet arrived, and he was always early to this class.
Just before the bell rang—seconds before, he sauntered in, dropping his books on his desk and seating himself nonchalantly. Midge was looking at Mrs. Schank while concentrating on Nick in her peripheral vision.
“All right, people. Are you ready for our debate?” There was a loud murmur of enthusiastic response. “Jake Palmer, would you please reiterate the rules before we begin?”
In a half-mocking, singsong voice, the young man repeated the rote-memorized rule. “No person can legitimately have the floor unless he or she can remain calm and reasonable as he spits out his opinion.”
“As he speaks his opinion,” Mrs. Schank corrected him, shaking her head but with a pursed smile on her face. “Julie Larson, will you please pick from the hat which side of the debate we’ll allow proponents to attempt to justify first?”
The girl pulled out a piece of paper and read aloud, “Abortion.”
“Good,” thought Midge. “At least we get the last word.”
“So who wants to get the ball rolling?” Mrs. Schank asked, looking expectantly at Blanche Midyard. Blanche had always been outspoken in her support of abortion, and she raised her arm, looking delighted to start the debate.
“A woman’s body is nobody’s business but her own. She should be able to terminate an unwanted pregnancy before she has a baby on her hands that she’s unable properly to care for. A crisis pregnancy means a girl never planned to get pregnant, and she shouldn’t have to alter her life because of something she never signed up for in the first place. It would be different if she’d set out to get pregnant; then she should take the responsibility for it.” Blanche smiled at Mrs. Schank, who smiled approvingly and asked for a comment from another proponent.
“Yes, Emily Torrez?”
“Well, it seems to me that when a couple’s just wanting to enjoy sex, they shouldn’t be inhibited by the outside possibility of becoming pregnant. If the girl happens to get pregnant, she should feel comfortable with just having an abortion without feeling guilty about it.”
“Yes,” interrupted John Dermoth, “If she gets pregnant, she gets an abortion and that’s the end of it. She doesn’t have to deal with being pregnant for nine months and then all the hassles of adoption before she can move on with her life.”
“For some girls, abortion’s not the best thing,” Emily spoke up, as if she’d never been interrupted, and Midge cringed, knowing she was probably referring to her. “Some girls would feel guilty, and they shouldn’t have an abortion. But for the ones who don’t feel guilty, abortion’s the best answer.”
“Anyone else?” Mrs. Schank asked.
“Yes, I’d like to say something.” Tanya Vanderbilt, ‘Mainbrain’ as she was nicknamed, spoke up. “You always hear that abortion is a ‘painful decision,’ right?” There was a general nod of agreement. “Well, I contend that it’s painful because we make it so by taking on guilt in the name of religion or traditional American culture. I think the time will come—I certainly hope so, anyway—when as a society in general we won’t be saddled with guilt in choosing our own personal courses. If we subscribe to evolution, abortion is just one aspect of the survival of the fittest. An unwanted baby equates to stress for the parent or parents as well as a difficult life—to put it mildly—for the child.”
“Tom Larson.” Mrs. Schank gave the floor to a laconic individual.
“I guess I just feel like it’s nobody’s business whether you choose abortion or adoption. People should keep their noses out of other people’s private business.”
“Well, Tom,” Mrs. Schank asked, “do you think our ‘nosiness’ is a result of religious and social tradition?”
“Yesss!” Tom replied, slowly but vehemently nodding his head.
“And that’s your opinion also, Ms. Vanderbilt?”
“It is,” Tanya answered.
“What about rape?” Mrs. Schank asked the abortion proponents.
Six or seven students immediately raised their hands, but Mrs. Schank called on Jim Uhling, who was not a regular contributor to class discussions.
“I don’t think any girl who was raped would want to keep the baby. She’s establishing a tie between herself and the rapist for one thing, which she probably wouldn’t want to do.”
“And every time she thinks of the baby, she’ll have a horrific memory to re-live,” interjected Blanche.
“Were you through, Jim?”
“I didn’t think I was,” Jim grinned, responding to the teacher, and everybody laughed. “A kid who’s a product of rape probably doesn’t have the best genes in the world, so someone’s in for a wild ride—either the mother or the adoptive parents.”
Todd Washington raised his hands, with a friendly grin on his face. “Hey, isn’t it time for the other side?”
“Yes, Todd, as a matter of fact, it is. Did you have a comment?” Mrs. Schank asked, smiling. Todd was a popular student who excelled on the track team.
“Yes, Ma’am. My nephew’s a ‘product of rape,’ but we ain’t used to callin’ him that.” There was a blast of laughter. “We gener’ly jes’ call him Lester.” More laughter. “Les is eleven come September. He’s never seen his dad, and I don’t know if my sister still has nightmares. She did at first. And I dunno how Les is goin’ to turn out. I just know he’s a good kid right now, and I’m proud of him; in fact, he’s about the nicest kid I know.” He paused and grinned. “My sister’s pretty fond of him, too.”
“Well, I’m sure there are always exceptions—wonderful exceptions, Todd. Thanks for sharing. Maybe I’ll have Lester in my class in a few years.” Mrs. Schank was very gracious in her comment, but Midge had a difficult time not taking offense at the condescending bias she perceived in her teacher.
“Another comment from the adoption proponents?” When no one responded, Mrs. Schank addressed the class. “People, didn’t you take notes on the prior comments so you could offer a rebuttal of some sort? What about Blanche’s introductory comments? Come on, now. I saw at least two or three of you taking notes. Remember, the purpose of these debates is neither to cement friendships nor to undermine them.” She looked around at the class. “What is the purpose, Joni Finegold?”
“To get us to think about social issues and help build confidence in being able to voice disagreement in a calm manner so we can learn from each other’s knowledge, experience, and feelings.” It was obviously a memorized statement.
“Precisely,” Mrs. Schank said approvingly, “and you get an A for memorization. Now are you able to put that statement into practice?”
Joni squinted her eyes in a look that said, “Hmm… I don’t know if I should say this.” She looked at Blanche, whom Midge knew was a close friend of hers, and tapped her fingers on her notes in front of her. “Blanche said a girl should be able to terminate a pregnancy before she has a baby.” She paused. “But she already has a baby if she’s pregnant.” There was a sound of agreement from several students. “And I agree that you shouldn’t have to alter your life for something you never signed up for, but you sign up for possible pregnancy anytime you have sex, don’t you? There’s no ‘fireproof safe,’ as they say.”
“And what are your views on adoption, since you’re on the anti-abortion side of this debate?” Mrs. Schank asked.
“Well, if you come up pregnant, and you can’t take care of the baby yourself, I think it would be less traumatic over a lifetime to have the baby adopted rather than aborted.” She glanced down at her desk and continued. “I think there’s a lot more chance of regret after an abortion than following an adoption. That’s just my opinion.” She shrugged her shoulders. There was a noisy assent from the pro-adoption proponents.
“How about Tanya’s comments? Would anyone care to make a rebuttal?” Mrs. Schank looked around the room and after a moment called on Howard Reilley, the class clown, who apparently had uncharacteristically taken notes and now glancingly reviewed them.
“Well, Mainbrain talked about how we shouldn’t be saddled with guilt in choosing our own ‘personal course.’ I just wonder—what if one person’s chosen personal course conflicts with another’s. As in, Joe Blow determines he’s going to rape Jane Doe—or murder Jane Doe’s boyfriend. Oops! Those old traditions get in the way—and that religion, too. As we progress as a society in our social evolution, will Joe Blow some fine day not have to deal with guilt? Or maybe the personal courses we choose will evolve, too, and Joe will only want to treat Jane like a lady and be best friends with her boyfriend.” There was a ripple of laughter, but everyone was intent on what Howard was saying. Midge thought to herself, “He’s a clown, but no bozo.”
Howard went on. “My point is this—(We do have to have a point, don’t we?)” He looked around and everyone on the adoption side broke into laughter. “What’s my point? Oh, yeah. My point is this. We should be able to choose our own personal course of action, unencumbered by guilt. But, that personal course of action can’t interrupt someone else’s course of action in a harmful way. Abortion definitely has a harmful effect on the baby. Adoption might too, but it’s a course of action taken to avoid harm to the child, not cause it.” He looked around and responded to the expectant faces all about him with a shrug. “That’s all.”
There was a round of applause cut off by Mrs. Schank’s held-up arm. “Does anyone else have a comment to express?”
Sue Ellen Rose turned to Midge and spoke in the brazen frankness for which she was known. “Midge,” she said, and one couldn’t deny the sincerity in her voice, for all her audacity. “What do you say? You’ve thought this over hours on end, no doubt. Why did you choose adoption over abortion?”
Midge felt her face flush, and wanted the pleasure of replying to Sue Ellen’s rudeness of putting her on the spot, but of course that was impossible. “Well,” she answered, vowing to herself that she wasn’t going to let one word fall from her lips that she’d not planned to say. “Well…”
“May I say something?” Startled, Midge stopped speaking. She knew Nick’s voice. She looked down at her desk and waited, preparing herself for the worst.
“Yeah, Midge thought it through. I wanted an abortion because I didn’t want to deal with all the repercussions of an embarrassing pregnancy. I tried to talk her into an abortion, but she walked away from me instead. Well, you all know she had her way and had the baby.”
Midge’s face burned and she fought back angry tears. She couldn’t believe Nick would do this to her.
“But I’ll tell you what. I know she hasn’t regretted having the baby—not for a moment. I’m the father, and I’ve never seen the baby, and I never went through all she’s gone through.” He looked over at Midge, and then directly at his teacher, punctuating each word. “I’m glad I didn’t get my way! I’m not sure I’ll ever see the child I tried—really tried—to have aborted,” he said sheepishly, his voice dropping down almost to a whisper. Then his volume picked up. “But I’m glad he’s alive and well and not dead. There’s always hope when a baby’s still alive—like Lester.” Nick turned to look at Todd. “My actions were pretty stupid, looking back on them. I’m glad Midge refused to abort the baby.”
The class was perfectly quiet for a brief moment before the bell rang and everyone scrambled to get books together. The time had flown as the students were caught up in the discussion of topics that at least potentially affected them all. Midge wiped her eyes and grabbed up her books, hurrying out to the hall. She was about twenty feet beyond the classroom door when she heard a familiar voice at her side.
“Midge…I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.” Nick’s voice was an urgent whisper. “That’s the last thing I’d want to do. But I wanted everyone to know how it was—that I was the one in the wrong.”
“It’s OK, Nick. I understand.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” Nick shook his head, still whispering. “It was a public apology. I’m dead sorry for the ass I was, and I… I hope you’ll forgive me. I’ve really missed you, Midge.”
There was a half-smile on Midge’s face as she pushed out a sigh through her nose. She couldn’t risk a vocal response, with her emotions on the edge as they were.
“Well,” Nick added, resignedly, “you can believe me or not believe me, but just for the record, I’m sorry. I went cheap, and I’m sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me—some day, if not right now.” He waited for a reply, but none came. “Well, I gotta get to English. Let me know if you ever wanna talk. I—I’ll be around.”
Nick strode on ahead, and Midge managed to find her locker and get to her own next class just in time for the bell. Her mind was in a whirr, and all of a sudden a kind of euphoria overwhelmed her. “Hey, Nicky,” she said under her breath. “Your dad’s not so bad, after all. He’s glad you’re alive, sweet baby.”