The town is only one mile square with a main road that dips as it moves south, then rises five miles later to another hill. Looking back from there, the court house can be seen exactly centered on the hill top. In spring, the marble columns seem to float on the trees, lording it over the town now hidden in the foliage. Two blocks behind the courthouse, on a treeless corner, sits the First Baptist Church. A grey stone building, surrounded by high black fence; it is the real center of justice and judgment.

It is not easy to tell your mother that you are pregnant at any age. It is harder when you are fifteen and the deacon�s daughter. But somehow Marian had managed that much. After a few �Lord, Lord-s�, her mother, Mrs. Moffet got down to business.

�Whose is it?�

�Oliver�s�

�Y�all wanna� get married?�

�He don�t. Said I oughta� get rid of it. �Sides, Daddy�ll have a fit, he finds out.� Her tongue flicked over pale, flaky lips at the thought of her father�s reaction: endless preachin� and prayin�.

�Stop licking your lips. How you let this happen?� The mother tugged at the lopsided dress that struggled to cover her rear, then lowered herself onto the sofa and sank in.

�Jus� happened. You gonna� help me?�

Mrs. Moffet studied her daughter�s red-brown face, smooth except for the pimpled forehead. This day had been coming for a long time. The girl was big-legged and big-chested. Men would always be after her. Wasn�t her fault. �Guess there ain�t nothin� else to do. Your daddy in the church an� all. Just don�t say nothin� bout this to nobody.� She rocked back and closed her eyes. The red velvet couch creaked on its spindly legs.

Marian flipped the pages of a comic book while her mother thought things out. After a few moments, her mother opened her eyes and leaned forward. �I know somebody in Sharon Hill to do it. A lady. You take off school. We�ll tell your daddy Aunt Ethel�s sick an� needs you t�help out a while.� The case closed, she struggled up from the couch.

Marian looked up at her. �When I-m goin �?�

�Tomorrow.�

Marian looked back at the comic in her lap and went on reading.

She took the morning bus to Sharon Hill. The lady lived walking distance from the bus stop. Marian found the place easily. It was a brick row-house with an enclosed porch. Worn green shades covered the unpainted windows. The lady, Miss Gladys, was younger than Marian expected. The girl wondered how her mother knew this woman in shiny goldish loungewear that nearly matched her light brown skin and testified to the lucrativeness of her business.

�You, Marian?�

�Uh huh. My mother called you?�

�Yeah, come on in.� Miss Gladys led the way to a back room.

Inside, Marian looked it over. A wooden chair, an army cot with a bare mattress and an old metal cabinet furnished it.

�Sit down.� Miss Gladys waved toward the chair. �I got some stuff to do first.�

 

Marian sat. There was nothing to say. From the cabinet came a long red rubber tube with a wire hanging out the end, a pair of gloves and a pile of newspapers. The woman covered the mattress with layers of paper, tucking it under the edges, then turned back to the girl.

�Take off your pants and your shoes. You can keep your socks on, if you want. Then lay down over here.�

Hesitating for the first time, Marian asked, �Will it hurt?�

�Yeah, but you�ll live� Hurry up, now!

Undressed, Marian lowered herself gingerly onto the cot. She held her legs together tightly as she stretched them out. Miss Gladys put on the rubber gloves.

�Move your legs - open!�

Marian saw the wired tube in the gloved hands. She opened her legs. Miss Gladys bent over and pushed the trembling thighs wider with one hand. She felt the girl�s stomach with her palm for a second, then with a practiced finger probed the vagina. Marian turned her head aside and closed her eyes. Quickly, Miss Gladys withdrew the finger and replaced it with the tube. Marian sucked in a breath.

The woman straightened and stepped back from the cot. �That�s the first part. You stay here. I�ll be back.� She left. the room, shutting the door behind her.

Marian lay on the bed, relieved that her father would not find out. God knows she wasn�t the first girl to ever get pregnant. She chuckled to herself, �God knows, but Daddy doesn�t.� She thought back to the night she had sneaked out with Oliver. Smiling, she fell asleep.

When she awoke, it was night. In the dark, she did not remember where she was. A sudden cramp in her stomach refreshed her memory. The door opened. The light was switched on. Shielding her eyes from the glare, she saw Miss Gladys with a glass.

�Something for you to drink - a laxative. You feeling anything? Drink it all.�

Marian sipped from the glass and grimaced. �My stomach hurts.� She gulped the rest of the liquid without breathing.

�Good. That means you�re started.� Miss Gladys took back the glass. �I�ll be back in an hour.�

When she was gone, Marian tried going back to sleep, but the nagging pain inside kept her alert. The un-shaded light bothered her eyes even when she shut them. A muscle in her leg tightened. She shifted on the cot, but the movement made her foot cramp. She decided to stay still. When her back began to ache, she tried to sit up.

Pain knifed across her stomach as if something were being torn away. She struggled for breath and lay back down on her side, pulling her knees toward her stomach. The calves of her legs hardened. She tried stretching out. This made her feet cramp. Feeling something wet, she touched her inner thigh. When she raised her hand, it was bloody.

Vomit rose in her throat. Gasping for air, she swallowed hard to keep it down. Contractions began. She rolled from side to side, holding her arms across her stomach, moving her legs, trying to find a comfortable position to lay in, but no matter what, the pain got worse. Fear wrenched tears from her eyes. She tore off a piece of the paper near her head and wiped her nose, now dripping and mixed with her sweat. She felt hot. Finally, not able to think of anything else to do, she screamed.

Miss Gladys appeared in the doorway. �Guess you�re ready now. It�ll be over soon.�

Marian prayed for something to kill the pain. Miss Gladys examined her. The wire was yanked from the tube. Marian screamed again.

�Listen, Marian. I know it hurts, but you can�t let the whole world know what�s happening. No noise!�

Her faced streamed with tears, struggling to stifle her sobs, unable to speak, Marian nodded.

Miss Gladys examined her again. Only this time, a worried look replaced her previously confident attitude. �Something�s a little wrong. It�s not coming out right. You�re pretty far gone. More than your mother told me. I gotta� turn it around. You�re gonna have to hang tough.�

Marian�s fear gave way to stark terror. God. was punishing her after all.

Miss Gladys went back to the cabinet and took out some rolls of gauze and tape. She stuffed Marian�s mouth with the gauze and taped across it.

Marian hoped to pass out.

Pushing outside the girl�s stomach with one hand and inside with the other, Miss Gladys grappled for the head of the fetus. Muffled moans oozed through the gauze. Perspiration dripped from the woman onto the girl. Blood soaked the newspapers until with a jerk, the soft, pulpy, mass was pulled free. Marian fainted. When she awoke, it was morning. She felt tired and weak. Snow had fallen outside during the night.

Miss Gladys brought her a bowl of oatmeal. �You got to eat to get your strength back,� she said. �You go home tomorrow. Next time be more careful.�

�I ain�t goin� through this again, Marian answered emphatically. If there�s a next time, I guess my daddy�ll just have to fuss.� She looked out the window at the snowy branches and thought about spring coming.

There are no trees around the First Baptist church. No one notices this because the hedges inside the fence are thick and high. By June, the leaves on the bushes are woven into a dense curtain that separates and shields the church from its surroundings.

Late on a June night, Marian eased through the gate into the church yard. She was not surprised when the preacher�s son, James, stepped out to meet her.

�Hey, Marian.�

�That you, James?� She squinted into the shadows.

�Who else?� James laughed softly.

�I don�t know,� Marian answered seriously with a frown.

�Aw, come on. I was kiddin�. I got the keys. Let�s go.� He led the way to the church door and unlocked it. The pair stepped into the inner darkness. With exaggerated tiptoeing, they made their way toward the front.

�You still giving me some ,Marian?�

�Said I was �didn�t I?�

Smiling, then hugging, they squeezed into a side pew. In a tangle of arms and legs, the next spring�s crop was sewn. Across the street from the church, Deborah Moffet was born at home in March.

BlackCommentator.com Columnist Suzanne Brooks is the founder and CEO of International Association for Women of Color Day and CEO of Justice 4 All Includes Women of Color. Click here to contact Ms. Brooks.