Jodi's Journey (17 page)

The doctor scratched his chin, as though
studying what she said and wondering if it was true. He got up and
moved around the room distractedly. “So…what do you want with
me?”

“I want to be rid of this child…” she
answered incredulously.

The doctor flopped down in his office chair
as though he could no longer stand, as though she had shocked him
so badly he had to sit. Then, after a long moment, his face screwed
up into a decided frown as she leaned against the arm of another
chair and waited for his answer. The look on his face was
unrelenting.

“How do I know that's what happened?” He eyed
her suspiciously. “You waltz in here, a complete stranger, and say
something so heinous. I don't recall seeing you about.” The doctor
fumbled with some papers on his desk, as though suddenly very
busy.

“Of course you haven't, doc. I'm from Round
Rock area. Besides…what do you think happened? What difference does
it make? Even if you don't believe me, I want to be rid of this
baby,” she wailed miserably. “I can't have his child…he's such a
no-good, a piece of white trash. I won't have his child. And if he
finds out I'm with child…there's no telling what he'd do.”

“What about your folks? Could they take the
child in?” he asked, looking over his glasses at her.

She hung her head at first, then shook it
vehemently. “My folks are dead. There's no one. And I won't have
this child. Can't you give me something? Something to make me…you
know?” Her voice rose in desperation.

“Now listen here.” The doctor threw back his
shoulders with an indignant stare, his voice striking just the
perfect tone to her arguments. “I'm a country doctor. I don't have
any fancy medicines to try on you, and I wouldn't anyway. Why that
would be this side of murder. It would be murder. A doctor can't do
these kinds of things and call himself a doctor. No, I can't do
this for you. I’m sorry. You'll have to find someone else or some
other way.”

“Sorry? That's not good enough, doc.” Her own
prickly determination made her draw breath. She silently wished it
was dark so she could hide her humiliation. But it was her cross to
bear. She didn't like or want to approach this doctor, a stranger,
and tell him everything. She didn't want to get rid of the child
this way, but there were no choices. Why couldn't he understand?
She had to make him see how desperate she really was. “Oh please,
you've got to help me. You're my last chance. I hate to beg…but
please, you've got to help me. Don't you see? Can't you
understand?” Her tears streamed down her face now as she tried to
make him understand her plight. “I was raped. I was a virgin, doc.
No one had ever touched me, doc. No one. Now I come here and you
tell me you can't do anything after I confided in you. I told you
the truth. Now you are throwing murder at me as though I'm the
guilty one. I'm the victim here.” Her tears spoke of her honesty as
she fought her own demons. She thought surely a doctor would
understand. “I'm the one defiled. It's the Devil's child, don't you
see? You've got to give me something,” she cried aloud.

“There's no such thing as a Devil's child.”
The doctor hung his head, and his deep set eyes seemed to be
searching his own soul. As though he needed her to suddenly
understand his position. “Child…” He shook his head with
indignation and shame for them both. “I understand your plight.” He
searched for the right words; his understanding voice belied his
own emotions in the matter. “I've seen a few in the same situation
in my lifetime, believe me. Age alone will do that. And I'm sorry
you have no kin to turn to.” His voice was gentle, tender, caring,
but firm. “But what you're wanting is beyond my capabilities.”

“How can you say that? You are a doctor!” she
cried out with disbelief. “I've read up on it. They have some kind
of medicine that can make a woman…”

“Yeah,” he sighed wiping his mouth as though
he had spit out acid words. His expression was one of deep sorrow,
his eyes pleading with her to understand. “They can also kill you.
I've seen it happen. First time I've been able to speak of it in a
long while, but I've seen what that stuff does.” He stared at her
for a long while. Then he explained carefully. “First the woman
cramps, badly, so bad she curls up into a ball and wails to die.”
He seemed to watch her expression as he spoke. “Then she vomits, so
much so you'd think she'd bring the child up that way. Then she
burns and feels her insides turn to fire. And
sometimes…well…sometimes she dies, too.”

“I'll take my chances. Give it to me,” she
insisted, pulling her gun from inside her shirt as though that
action alone would make him comply.

He looked stunned at first, and then with
iron patience, he shook his head yet again. As though he couldn't
believe what she was asking or doing. The doctor looked at her with
a serious concern, his own stubborn determination fighting hers. “I
won't. I can't.”

“Then I'll find it myself. It has to be
here,” she cried, pushing the revolver till it opened his cabinet.
Rummaging through his medicine cabinet, she didn't find anything
that looked like it might help. She was clueless as to what she
needed. Oh, she knew a few of the names of the herbs and things,
but there was nothing like that in these cabinets.

“Which one is it?”

He shook his head again. He rolled his
shoulders and got up to look in the cabinet, putting the small
bottles back in a row as he had them. He continued, “I don't have
any, not any longer. I'm trying to tell you…the last time I had it,
the woman died. Don't you understand it? She died. I threw away
what was left. I'll never use it again, no matter what the
circumstances. I wouldn't have given it to her, but she was an old
friend. She begged me for it. She had twelve kids. She wasn't even
thirty years old. Her husband had gotten her in a way every year of
her adult life. She was sick, sick of bearing children, caring for
them and doing for him. They could barely support them all. He
wouldn't leave her alone; he wanted more children. All to help run
the farm…dern fool man wouldn't use withdrawal.”

Jodi looked at the old doctor for the first
time with understanding. It had never dawned on her what a man like
this might have seen and gone through. It saddened her, too. When
she first walked into his office, she hadn't cared about what he
looked like, or who he was, but now, while she listened to his
heart, she saw the man. Sometimes seeing a person for what they
were made you wake up. He was bent and slight of form, his hair was
thinning, and he wore glasses. Not many men had glasses, but the
doc had them. His face mirrored the agony of that story. He wasn't
lying. Jodi felt a panic growing inside herself. She had to end
this, here and now. She had to! But she knew from the look on his
face, and the slump of his body, that this man would never give her
anything.

“Then operate. Take the baby from me,” she
cried to him.

“I can't do that.” He looked at her as though
she'd lost her mind completely. “I took an oath to preserve life,
not take it. God help us both. It's also against my religion and
should be against yours,” he said in a finality she understood.
“When was your last monthly?”

“Three and a half months ago,” she wailed
miserably.

“Your monthly, is it regular? Can you depend
on it?” He seemed almost anxious for her answer.

“Most of the time, but three months, doc,
without a monthly.” She gestured and frowned at him.

“Yes, then you probably are pregnant. Have
you been sick?” He kept asking questions, as though to stall her
next question.

“Almost every morning,” she replied.

“Have you had a quickening?”

“What's that?” she asked. Apprehension spread
through her like wildfire.

“Has the baby moved inside you yet? Have you
felt it?”

“No…” A growing uneasiness made her stare at
the doctor.

“That is good news. There are laws about
these things, you know. If you've had no quickening and you abort,
then you are safe from the law, but once the child moves, then it
is a living human, and against the law to abort it. Do you
understand?”

“Yes, so give me something now…”

“Have you read up on it at all?” he
questioned.

“I have….some. Got that fella Hall's book,
The Mother's Own Book and Practical Guide to Health; Being a
Collection of Necessary and Useful Information. Designed for
Females Only. My cousin sent it all the way from New York.”

“There are some who know exactly what to
give. Have you tried Black Cohosh, Rue, Tansy, any of those
ingredients?”

“What I could get hold of. It wasn't easy. I
didn't have any instructions on how much to take of it. Maybe I
didn't take enough. I don't know. But it didn't do anything either
except make me sick.”

“I see. Nothing happened at all?”

“Just really sick, doc.”

“You probably didn't take enough then. It
must be steeped like tea, and sipped. No matters…tell me…did you
douche? After it happened?” He seemed to grasp at every question,
as though maybe together they could find an answer for her. Deep
down, she knew the doctor wanted to help her, but he was more or
less refusing because of his own religious conviction. She
understood it, felt nearly the same, but she couldn't live with
this pregnancy.

The very word made her turn red. How could
she stand here talking to a complete stranger about such things?
Even if he was a doctor, this was too personal.

“Look, doc, I was raped,” she cried. “You
don't think I just laid there and let him, do you? I was beat up,
doc. Left for dead. My foreman found me, took me to my bed and I
laid there for days before I could raise myself up. I don't own a
syringe and couldn't get into town to try and find one. I'd have
been too embarrassed to ask the general store lady for one. My
cousin is the only one I could turn to. I just got the book last
month and I read every word of it. Although there were parts of it
I truly didn't understand, there are those that can help. But how
do I find them? Doc, I wasn't married and I figure only married
women would have syringes. I confess, I knew very little about
these things…before. But now, I've studied on it, and know what I
should have done. It's too late for most of it. I need help…that's
why I came here. You were my last hope.”

“Did you report this to the sheriff or
marshal?” the doctor asked, putting his glasses back on and
studying her face.

“Don't have one where I live. It isn't even a
town really any more. The bank closed down, the mill run down.
Besides, no one wants that job anyway.”

“So this fella got away with it?” He peered
at her over his glasses.

“Yes, he got away with it, and has threatened
to do it again. He has no idea that I'm in this way, doc. And I'm
not about to be telling him. If he comes at me now, I'd not tell
him. And if I had the advantage, I'd blow his sorry head off.
Wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he could make a
child.”

“No, I don't suppose you would.” He nodded,
his voice indulging her. “It's advisable for you to keep a syringe
on hand, especially if this man comes back. I'm going to give you
one.” He fumbled in his cabinet for one, and then he started to
hand it to her.

She really wished he wouldn't say that word.
It sounded….vulgar. “I don't want it, doc. I am not planning on it
happening again. I'll kill him first.”

“You got anyone to protect you?” He scratched
his head.

She frowned. “Yeah, maybe…now.”

“If this man comes back, you report it to the
first lawman you see, do you understand? One must not let these
kinds of things happen. I feel for you, girl, I do. But I can't
help you. Your best bet is to find an old Indian woman around these
parts. I hear tell they have something that might help. The Indians
always have had something, but they don't go around sharing that
information much. “

“An Indian?” she gasped. “Oh God, what
next?”

“You say you aren't from around here. Then
how'd you get here?”

“I'm movin' a herd of cattle through to
Kansas.”

The doctor’s eyes widened. “You are on this
drive, personally?”

“Yeah, why?” Her eyes rounded as if she had
said something that might help him.

“The drive alone might do it. Horse riding
isn't for ladies in a way, you know. It's quite possible that you
could lose the baby naturally, on a horse.”

“Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll get throwed…” Her
eyes became big pools of tears.

“Now see here, young lady, I'll have none of
that talk. Why, you could find a man and marry and raise that
child.”

“Look, doc, I came here to get rid of this
kid. I've read about different kinds of mixtures working…”

“Sometimes. Not all the time. Are you willing
to die trying?” he asked.

“Yes…I am.” Her voice held a desperation he
seemed to recognize. His brows lifted, his frown slid slowly away,
and tears were close to falling as he looked at her again.

“Well, I'm not…” He frowned at her, and stood
staring for a long moment. “First of all, you have to have the
right mixture of herbs. You make a boiling pot of water and pour it
over them in a jar and set the jar up for a while. Then you sip it.
You can sip it for 4 to 5 days if you want. It is best taken a
little at a time. Otherwise you might cramp severely. Then you will
start to bleed and abort the child, but only if you have the right
mixture and take it correctly. It isn't to be gulped down at one
sitting. And still it is only thirty percent to eighty percent
effective. It can cause extreme nausea. And all this has to be done
before the quickening.”

“I thought doctors were here to help people,”
she sighed as her gun lowered and her head sank. The grief she was
feeling seemed to spill forth.