by Mona Mehas
Content warning – self-induced abortion.
Judy stubbed out her cigarette, the smoke curling in the air above the ashtray. Her best friend made another pot of coffee while her two little girls played on the living room floor. Their giggles brought a smile to her face. With Sue’s Ginny right in the middle, their girls looked like little stairsteps when they played together. Sue was twenty years older than Judy and had eight kids. Judy had wanted ten children, but Rose and Madison were her only two.
She lit another cigarette and studied her chipped fingernails. After ten years, sometimes they didn’t need words. No one in her family understood Judy the way Sue did. Her sisters were so laced up she’d quit confiding in them; her brothers’ wives were even worse. There was no use talking to her mother about anything personal. Judy’s mother believed Charlie was doing his duty.
Sue got out the oatmeal cookies she’d baked the day before, then took a few into the other room for the girls. She filled Judy’s cup with coffee and joined her at the table.
“You always wanted more kids.”
“Not like this!” Judy stirred sugar and milk into her coffee, the spoon clinking against the cup. “I have to do something.” Her hands shook less with the cigarette.
“You still have time to think about it. Have you told Laverne?”
“Hell no! I haven’t told anyone but you.” Judy scoffed. Her lover would run in the opposite direction if he knew he’d gotten her pregnant. “I can’t have this baby, no matter what. Charlie’s off fighting the Japanese or the Germans, and I’m carrying someone else’s baby. My family would disown me. My in-laws would take Rose and Madison; I know they would.”
Judy’s husband was on a ship somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Charlie hadn’t even been drafted. He’d volunteered to fight in that damn war, calling their daughters goddamned bitches on his way out the door.
“There are places you can go, but they’re expensive,” Sue said. “And dangerous. I’ve heard stories of women dying.”
Judy shivered, clutching her stomach. “You got anything stronger? I need a drink.” She put her head in her hands.
Sue opened a bottle of whiskey, put it on the table with two glasses, and then went to check on the girls. Rose whimpered, but they fell asleep in cookie crumbs, thumbs shoved in their mouths. Only two years old, Rose cuddled next to four-year-old Madison. Sue covered them with light blankets and returned to the kitchen.
“I appreciate you taking care of them,” Judy said. “Look how Ginny crawls up close to my girls, like sisters.” She wished she could have the baby growing inside her. It wasn’t big enough yet to make its presence known, but Judy knew it was there by the lack of blood in her panties and the tenderness of her nipples. Charlie had been gone six months, and she hated him for leaving the way he did.
“He always said it was my fault, having girls.” Judy liked how the whiskey burned its way down her throat. “That’s why he left, to get away from us, calling them that awful name.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” Sue sipped her whiskey but made a face. She opened a beer instead.
“Yeah, I told him he’s wrong, that it’s a man’s sperm that decides the sex of a child, but he cussed me and slapped me again, so I shut up.”
“I’ve had five husbands, and not one has ever laid a hand on me!” Sue shook her head. “Why do you put up with that?”
Judy combed her fingers through her hair. “What else am I going to do? Charlie won’t let me work. He won’t let me attend the church I grew up in, and he alienated the Elders. My mother thinks I decided to join his faith.” She poured another whiskey. “I quit trying to win her approval. I’ve been sowing my wild oats since he’s been gone, and now I’m paying for it.” She took a deep breath, resisting the urge to hold her stomach.
“I can’t think of this as a baby.” Judy lowered her voice. “I have to take care of it soon.”
“I wish I could give you the money to go somewhere.” Sue groaned. “How many periods have you missed?”
“Only one, and it hasn’t fluttered yet.” Judy’s breath was shaky. “I know you don’t have much more than me. I can’t borrow from my family without telling them why, but I need help.”
“There are other ways, but they’re even more dangerous than the butchers in the alley clinics.” Sue squeezed Judy’s hand. “You could die.”
“I’d die if my in-laws took Rose and Madison from me for having a bastard child while their son is off fighting a war.” She choked on her tears.
Sue gulped her beer and left the table. Judy stared at the glass in her hand, now empty. Facing the consequences of running the bars and sleeping with Laverne was more difficult than she’d imagined. Judy believed she was in love with him at the time, but she’d been foolish. She reached for the whiskey; her hands shook so badly she almost dropped the bottle.
When Sue returned, she laid two knitting needles on the table. Judy’s chest hitched. “What are you suggesting?”
“When I was in my twenties, before I had Johnny, I had a friend in your situation.” Sue finished her first beer and opened another. “She used a knitting needle to do what was necessary.”
Judy picked up one of the needles. The metal was cold and hard in her fingers. The thought of putting that thing inside her just about made her throw up, dropping the needle. It skipped across the kitchen floor, a tinny sound in its wake. Judy made herself small, trying to disappear into the chair.
“I can’t do that.” Her voice weak, Judy couldn’t stop staring at the needle still on the table.
“What are your alternatives?”
That was the problem; there were no alternatives. Judy didn’t trust anyone else with her secret. She’d known women who had a child without being married, but having a kid by someone other than your husband was different, less forgivable. Her family was from the deep South, where girls married young and started popping out babies early. She’d considered her life ruined when her parents moved her up North until she’d met Charlie. Her dad was the only one who hadn’t liked Charlie, and he was dead. He must have seen something back then, foreshadowing what Judy wouldn’t learn until after the wedding. Her husband’s self-righteousness and cruelty shone through within the first few months.
When the children woke from their naps, Judy cleaned the cookie crumbs from their rosy cheeks and put her girls in the buggy to head home. The walk was fast, about seven blocks. The breeze rustled through the trees while the sun broke through, casting afternoon shadows behind them. Tucked away under the mattress in the buggy were the two knitting needles.
Dinner for the girls was a blur. Chicken and mashed potatoes always made them happy. After dinner, Judy took them out to the small backyard and let them play with their dolls. Houses in her neighborhood were too close together. The fence separating her backyard from the neighbors’ ended at the siding. She longed for open spaces.
Judy got the girls in bed and sat at the table to write a letter to Charlie. She hadn’t heard from him in two weeks and wondered if he was still alive. After beginning with Dear Charlie, she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Judy had considered telling him she was pregnant and leaving him, but fear crept in. Her blood was cold in her veins; the ice collected in her brain and fingertips, making it impossible for her to write those words. She tore up her third attempt and threw it away.
The buggy was in the girls’ bedroom, so Judy tip-toed in. She rummaged under the mattress until she found both knitting needles and took them to the bathroom, hiding in the bottom of the cabinet.
What would happen when she shoved the cold metal needle deep inside her? Her babies were asleep in the other room. What if she died? She would need a plan before she put that foreign thing to use.
Judy barely slept that night. Certain of what she needed to do, her dreams were dark and twisted. In one dream, she floated in a bed of blood, Madison and Rose standing beside her, tears streaming down their cheeks. Judy sat up. She barely made it to the bathroom before vomiting.
In the wee hours of the morning, Judy decided to ask around for a weekend babysitter. With her girls safe in someone else’s care, she would have the weekend to herself. She fell into a fitful sleep, waking when Rose crawled into bed beside her. Before long, Madison was there, wanting breakfast.
Later that morning, she was in the backyard with the girls when her neighbor, Pansy, came outside to hang her laundry. Pansy was a little older than Judy and had no children. She’d watched Rose and Madison a couple of times.
“Mornin,’ Pansy.” Judy was already sweating under the morning sun.
Pansy smiled and greeted her. She cooed and laughed at the pretty little girls. “I wish I’d married and had babies.”
“Would you like to watch them for me this weekend?” Judy shuffled her feet. “I have a family thing that’s adults only.”
“Oh,” Pansy said, her voice lilting. “Well, that sounds fun. Are you going somewhere?”
“Um, I’m not sure yet.” Trapped in a lie, now what?
“Silly me! I just remembered I have a prior obligation on Saturday!” Pansy fanned herself with the morning paper. “I’m sorry. Another time?”
“Sure, thanks.”
Madison threw herself into Judy’s arms, causing her to flinch. Her breasts were so tender that the touch of her daughter’s head was a painful reminder of the new life growing inside her.
“Hey, Pansy! Do you have some free time this evening so I can run a few errands?”
*
After dinner, Judy changed into a sleek black skirt and pink sweater. She used just enough dark eyeliner to make her eyes smoky. Her red lipstick did double duty as rouge on her cheeks. She slipped into her black and silver flats and took Madison and Rose next door. Pansy gave her a sidelong glance, but Judy didn’t care. She kissed her daughters and left.
The sun was going down behind the buildings on the streets of her small midwestern town. One side street was lined with taverns Laverne frequented; they’d met in a bar called Bea’s. Bea was a friend of Judy’s; her family owned several businesses in the area. Judy went to the bar and ordered whiskey and water.
“You seen Laverne?” The bartender shook his head. Someone came up behind her and put their hands over her eyes.
“Guess who?”
Judy whirled around, almost spilling water down the front of her sweater, when she heard Bea’s voice. She smiled like she didn’t have a care in the world, but inside, she was jelly.
“I need a favor,” Judy whispered.
She carried her drink and followed Bea back to her office. It was messy as usual, but she sat on the only comfortable chair in the room. “I need someone to watch my kids this weekend.” Judy lifted her chin, projecting an air of confidence.
“The whole weekend?”
Judy tried to hold back her tears, but she was tired. Her confidence crumbled, her bottom lip trembled, she blinked her eyes, and the tears fell. She groaned and swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“What about your family?” Bea cupped her hand over Judy’s, who could only shake her head.
“You wanna tell me why?”
“No, it’s something personal.” Judy sucked in some air, her chest thudding.
Bea stared at her for a minute. “Alright, I’ll ask my younger sisters. Would they come to your house?”
“No!” Judy shot up from the chair. “My girls need to be gone.”
After staring at Judy for another minute, Bea picked up the phone on her desk and gave the operator her parents’ number. “My sisters live with our parents,” she said. “They can watch your girls at my apartment.”
Judy slowly lowered herself to the chair, her insides trembling. While Bea talked to one of her sisters, she realized she hadn’t asked how old they were or if they’d ever watched children before. None of that mattered. She wrapped her arms around herself and started rocking; the movement brought a strange comfort.
“It’s all set.” Bea hung up the phone. “Katie and Lisa will be at my place Saturday morning around ten. They’re excited about babysitting. High school keeps them pretty busy.”
Judy stood, her shoulders limp. “Thanks. I’ll pick them up Sunday evening if that’s okay.” Her drink was still on Bea’s desk. She downed it, then at the last minute, took a pencil and paper from the desk.
“Here’s a number for a good friend.” Judy scribbled Sue’s name and number on the paper and handed it to Bea. “Call Sue if I’m not there by eight Sunday night.”
“You’re worrying me.” Bea put the slip of paper in her pocket.
“I’ll be fine.” Judy straightened her skirt and reapplied her lipstick. It was difficult to keep the red from smudging with her hands shaking.
*
The next two days moved slower than any other two days in Judy’s life. Her moods changed from hour to hour. Sometimes she cried like a baby at what she had to do; other times, she breathed heavy sighs of relief for having friends who would help her and the strength of will to do what was necessary. Never once did she waver on her decision to end the pregnancy.
On Friday evening, Judy left Madison and Rose with Pansy and went to the liquor store. Alcohol would fortify her strength and sterilize the knitting needles.
Saturday morning, she walked the eight blocks with her daughters in the buggy to Bea’s apartment. Judy had never met Bea’s sisters before. They both were tall and blonde, with brown eyes. Lisa and Kate took the girls to the fenced-in patio after Judy kissed them goodbye. Their overnight bags were in the buggy.
“Whatever you’re doing, stay safe.” Bea squeezed her hands.
“Sunday evening,” Judy said, then left.
The walk home was slow. If there were clouds or sun or traffic or other people, Judy didn’t notice. Her head was somewhere else, not attached to her body. Her feet didn’t touch the sidewalk. When she walked through her door, she wondered how she’d gotten there.
Judy threw herself onto the couch and opened the whiskey. Not bothering with a glass, she chugged from the bottle. After all, that’s why she’d bought the damn stuff, to get soused. That and the other thing. Why the reservations? She’d planned it all out -- the knitting needles were in the bathroom, she had the whiskey, the kids were cared for – what was her problem?
Then it hit her. Judy wasn’t worried about ending the pregnancy. She remained steadfast on that. No, Judy was afraid she’d orphan her daughters. If she botched this and died and Charlie died in the war, his parents would take them. Even if Charlie lived, his parents would raise them. He didn’t want goddamn bitches. He’d already made that clear.
She couldn’t die. She wouldn’t die.
Judy picked herself up from the couch and staggered into the bathroom with the whiskey bottle in her hand. She stripped naked, took the needles out from under the cabinet, and poured whiskey over them in the sink. Then she sat on the toilet, a knitting needle in one hand.
Aiming the knitting needle, her hands shook so violently that she dropped it into the toilet. Judy sobbed, loud, long, exasperating sobs, heaving until her chest hurt when she breathed.
She got up and leaned over the sink. Her head dropped to her chest; her throat ached from crying. She grabbed the whiskey bottle and drank what was left. The other needle was still in the sink. Judy picked it up, her grip firm, and sat back on the toilet.
This time, she did not shake. Using both hands, Judy placed the knitting needle just right. Then she plunged.
Lightning and fireworks shot through her body, white, hot, searing pain. Judy crumpled and screamed until her throat was raw and her ears popped. Then, the pain was gone, and blackness came.
Judy was light, filmy, floating in the air in the bathroom, watching. Her body was limp on the toilet. Her head hung down; her wavy brown hair hid her face. An empty whiskey bottle lay in the sink. A whoosh of air jerked her back.
Reunited with her body, her neck cramped, and her stomach screamed. She slipped off the toilet onto the floor. Grabbing onto the seat, she managed to pull herself up to her knees, every movement excruciating. Judy squeezed her eyes shut to keep from seeing what was in the toilet before she puked.
Turning away from the bathroom, Judy crawled to the kitchen. Mumbling and cursing, she pulled herself up to the sink, grabbed a glass, and turned on the faucet. After a few sips of water, Judy curled into a fetal position on the rug before the darkness descended.
*
“Judy.” Sue shook her shoulders, saying her name. She had a blanket over her nakedness. Shivering, Judy opened her eyes and pulled the blanket up to her chin.
“I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Judy shook her head, holding the blanket tighter. “No! I’m alive. I’ll be fine.” With every ounce of strength within her, she sat up. “My girls?”
“They’re still with your friends, but I’ll keep them tonight. Let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.”
She stood, leaning on Sue, and washed up at the kitchen sink. When finished, Sue helped her into her bedroom. Tucked in with a sandwich and glass of water on the bedside table, Judy could finally breathe.
*
Judy recovered from her harrowing experience, never telling anyone until decades later. Charlie survived the war, but their fighting intensified over the next several years. Her heart came alive again when she had a daughter by cesarean section before they divorced. Charlie married his long-time girlfriend and fathered three more girls. After the birth of each one, Judy laughed.
***
Mona Mehas (she, her) writes from the perspective of a retired disabled teacher in Indiana USA. A pushcart nominee, her work has appeared in over 70 journals, anthologies, and online museums. Her chapbook, ‘Questions I Didn’t Know I’d Asked’ is available from Amazon with a second book due in July. Mona is querying agents for her first novel.
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