In light of recent events, I’ve decided to share a part of my novella about a woman faced with a decision. Needless to say, I was inspired by forewarned decision by the SCOTUS to federally ban the right to abortion. The years of debate leading up to this horrified me. So I had to write. Enjoy.
The best thing you can do to help a woman faced with such a decision is to give her what she needs.
One Day I hope to release the full story.
Abort: A Novella The Offerings Part 4
Lemons. Beets. Ground Cinnamon. Coconut. Papaya.
These were the first things on Faye’s list that Rachael needed to get. Rachael studied the note in secrecy. She kept it under her pillow the first night she received it. She couldn’t sleep much. She was kept up all that night with thoughts of blood and broken bones. Her heart beating in hushed pitter-patters of mice feet.
She debated between whether she should proceed as Faye instructed her, or simply call Faye and tell her to the deal was off.
Rachael wasn’t a killer. She couldn’t even bear to see a mouse snapped by a trap nonetheless throw that trap away. Those old metal pedal mouse traps may have gone out of style for more humane methods, but every once and a while Rachael would run into an elderly client who sore to the heavens by the method.
She felt sorry for the unsuspecting mouse. It was lured by promise of a sweet (or something savory like peanut butter) and while it feasted, it set in motion a hairpin trigger. Within seconds, what remained was carnage unlike the ravaged bodies of our worst wars. An oozing cracked skull. A body snapped into the middle. Something daggling from a trap that Rachael had to pinch between her fingers and close her eyes to discard.
Faye had said the potion was natural, powerful and painless.
Rachael was too far along for a morning after pill and she had already swore off hospitals and clinics. The less people knew the better. And anything was better than the thought of a broken, bloody-limbed baby.
Her home was too small for another life, she kept reminding herself.
She couldn’t bear going nine months with something growing inside her, like a tumor that sucked the literally life out of her. She wasn’t opposed to gifting that life to someone else, but they wouldn’t be the ones dealing with the toll it took on her body. She couldn’t go through all of it again.
Her body was still spongy and warped after Noah. Her money was spread too thin. Her home was too small. Her heart wasn’t taking any more visitors.
By morning, her thoughts were as clear and bright as the day. She plotted her next steps carefully. Noah was dropped off at day care. She had no time to discuss his recent school behaviors with his teachers. She told them she was already late for work, but that was a lie. She had called out sick that day. This time, it wasn’t an excuse to play horny teenagers with Freddie. That’s what got her into this mess.
Instead, she drove out of the city and pulled up to the nearest farmer’s market. No grocery stores for her. She couldn’t sum up the courage to step back into those just yet without her confidence crumbling.
She was on a secret mission. She walked about the fruit stands with her head low. She avoided eye contact. No one could know what she was doing. She kept the short list in her purse, and her purse was clutched tightly under her arm. No one was getting at her secret without a fight.
The whole ordeal lasted but a few minutes. She knew what she was after. Near the fruit and produce, the stand with the flies buzzing about and the street sticky with trampled fruit that rolled off the carts. She found what she was looking for. The fruit was so fresh she felt as if she had walked into a fruit cocktail, all syrupy and sweet.
Lemons. Beets. Ground Cinnamon. Coconut. Papaya.
She sniffed out the ripe fruit. She knocked on the coconut to make sure it was full. She had no idea what a papaya looked like. She never had one before. Up to that point, the most exotic fruit she had ever eaten was a mango. The vendor had plenty of mangos, but only had pre-cut halves of papaya. She hoped that would do.
At check out, she thought the vendor was looking at her funny. These weren’t just random ingredients. These were the base for something more sinister. Rachael threw a few bags of grapes into the mix to throw the vendor off her scent.
She paid with cash. She didn’t want to leave any trace.
Goldschläger was the next item on the list.
There was a liquor store next to the Farmer’s Market, but it was too close for Rachael. She drove to the next town over and pulled over at the first liquor store she saw.
Head low, she dashed inside the store quickly. Eyes were everywhere and you never quite knew who those eyes belonged to.
The bottle was behind the counter. She whispered her order to the attendant. He gave her a look; a look that made Rachael feel dirty and feel discovered. Someone had turned on the kitchen light in the middle of the night, and the roaches had to scurry. He made her feel that small with a mere look and pained smile.
The mission had to be aborted. She grimaced and ran out the store.
She sat in her car and waited for the tiny beating of her hushed heart to go away. She waited and sat with this feeling of being small in a big world; of being a mouse on a wheel and Fate was the one that had her caged up. She had been running and running all day, but was she really getting anywhere? Was she ever going to be free? Was this potion really going to work? And what the hell was all these ingredients for?
She allowed herself to open up and cry.