A Sorority of Angels (25 page)

“What’s the difference? You haven’t left me smiling in weeks. No reason why tonight should be any different.”

“I’m tired of fighting. I’ll get the check.”

“We’ll split it,” Alise offered.

“You’re ridiculous again, Alise.”

“You pay your share, I’ll pay mine. I insist. I am independent of you.”

“Will that make you feel better? Pay your own way.”

The check came. “How much is the check?” she asked.

“With tip, eighty dollars.” She passed her share to him. Ali accepted the money saying, sarcastically, “Why don’t you be a sport and pay the whole thing?”

“Up yours.”

Alise floated in a world different from his when she stood and weaved around the tables to the front. She meandered ahead and waited by the door for him.

Her hands vibrated, thoughts numbed and traumatized from her posture and position. She ended the relationship. Did she do the right thing? Would she have the baby without him? Will he walk out of her life? Did he see through her? Doubt and insecurity dried her positive flow, about to walk a tightrope high above ground without a balance pole or a net.

Alise weaved into indecision when he said as he caught up, “Okay, let’s go.”

Outside, they looked at each other in confusion at this new and awkward moment. The night air failed to help in changing their mental pall. Their meeting would end soon.

“Are you certain I shouldn’t walk you home?”

“I’m positive and the area is safe. I need to be alone. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He looked disappointed.

She hesitated from turning away then leaned over to kiss his cheek, and did. Her heart raced, fingers clutching his jacket to stop trembling. She pressed closer and kissed him tenderly on the lips.

She stepped back and looked at him with pleading eyes then kissed him again.

“Ali?”

“Yes?”

“Please take me home.”

Ali possessed her, owning her body and soul. He wrapped her in a small package placing it on his shelf to open and close to play with and put away whenever it pleased him.

He slept over that night leaving at seven in the morning. She clung to him all night as they slept; afraid he would leave forever. At eight o’clock, she called Laura.

“This is Alise.”

“Good morning. Did your evening go well? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m calling to say I’m going for the abortion.”

“Oh.” Laura’s disappointment showed.

“Can you still go with me? I’m shaking.”

“Whenever you say.”

“Can we go today? I have the courage.”

“I’ll take off from work. I’ll have to call and see when the clinic can take you.”

“I didn’t think about calling. I’m confused.”

“They may not be open at this hour. That’s your final decision?”

“No way will Ali have me with the baby.”

“You’re convinced it’s the best thing all around?”

“It’s the best thing.” Alise lacked conviction.

“Okay, you know best. I’ll call you after I talk to the clinic.”

“Where is it, by the way?”

“On East Sixtieth Street, the Midtown Women’s Clinic, a member of New York Abortion Clinic Services. I’ve checked them out if you decided to go ahead. And it’s safe and with competent medical care. They also told me about abortion pill RU486. I can explain the procedure as explained to me.”

“Do that later. I’m not receptive now. I cried for an hour.”

“I’ll call you later.”

“Thanks a million for being a friend.”

Alise’s eyes streaked red unable to cry anymore. Crying could never change matters. Last night proved she needed to live with him, refusing to yield her dream. He had become an obsession. The analysis came down to obsession as she impatiently waited for Laura’s call that came at eight-thirty.

“We have an appointment for eleven o’clock. That’s the earliest they can take you.”

“What happens now? Do I stay overnight or what?”

“You go in and out the same day. You have to take blood and urine tests. The abortion takes from two to three minutes. You’ll be there for four or five hours.”

“Do I have to stay awake?”

“If you prefer they can put you to sleep with an intravenous injection. They place your legs in stirrups like having a baby then perform the procedure, or take RU486, a nonsurgical procedure which can be used in the first sixty-three days of the first trimester either in pill form, by injection, or liquid form.”

“Fine. We’re on.”

“I’ll come by then we’ll take a cab. About ten-thirty?”

“Make it ten. I’m going to need moral support.”

Alise decided to walk. They left earlier.

“It’s not the end, Alise. Abortions are a simple and common procedure today.”

“I’m not worried about the operation. I’m about to kill my baby. That’s what’s clawing at me. The problem is I’m doing it for Ali, not for me. I hope I’m doing the right thing.”

“That’s for you to judge.”

“What would you do if the same happened to you?”

They crossed 56
^th
Street and First Avenue. A Montana sky continued to favor the city.

“I’d also have mixed emotions if the man involved wasn’t interested. If it happened with Adam, he’d jump for joy knowing I wouldn’t hesitate to marry him. Your commitment would be twofold, a major responsibility and financial burden, a major sacrifice. I don’t know what to say to justify your decision.”

Fright came to Alise as they walked closer to 60
^th
Street. She tensed when they passed beneath the droning 59
^th
Street Bridge and reached 60
^th
Street then turned left towards Second Avenue.

The Midtown Women’s Clinic occupied a four-story townhouse in the middle of the block. Its white facade and sign on the door were clues of a medical establishment.

From the corner, they saw two men by the clinic trying to persuade two women going inside from going, tormenting them. The one wearing a brown suit and glasses carried a sign proclaiming, ‘Stop the Killing of Innocent Children.’; Right to Lifers.

“Don’t kill your baby,” the other one, wearing jeans and a blue shirt, shouted. He had a groomed beard.

“Don’t kill your baby!”

The two women entered the clinic guilt ridden. The two men saw Laura and Alise. They waited ready to pounce on anyone coming to the clinic. When apparent the women would abort by heading for the door, they attacked.

“Don’t kill your baby!”

The other man jumped in front preventing entry.

“Get out of our way,” Laura said adamant.

“Save your baby’s life. Here, take these pamphlets.” Laura accepted one to end his aggression. “Your baby has as much right to live as you. Don’t kill him. Please.” He turned to Alise. “Please you must stop her. Look at these pictures.” He pointed to a colored picture of discarded fetuses with bold lettering, HUMAN GARBAGE. “Her baby isn’t garbage. It’s murder, immoral. Please give your baby a chance. Let him live!”

Alise was shaken. The other man, less aggressive, approached.

“Ladies, please don’t be alarmed. We want only to defend your child. We believe he has a right to live, and your baby has a right to a full life. Please read the pamphlet before making your final decision. We know you made the decision to kill him, why you are here, to become a murderess. We are making a last minute plea for your unborn child. He has no one else to protect him.”

He has no one else to protect him.
The words repeated in Alise’s head.

“Thank you,” Laura replied, trying to appease them. “Thank you for your concern, but we already decided. Please let us pass.” She grew angry when they didn’t budge. “Move shit! Abortion is a woman’s issue. Stop trying to control us with your backward self-serving male stupidity. You’re a Neanderthal, a mindless asshole farting through his mouth. Only women should decide the issue.”

They stepped aside.

“You’ll regret it. You’ll regret it forever.”

They abandoned Alise and Laura when their attention diverted to a woman headed in their direction. Alise remained shaken. Laura put her arm around her.

“Are you all right?”

Alise nodded. They entered the foyer and reception area. Behind the receptionist, a nurse, a five part series of diagrams explained the menstrual cycle. Seven women waited in the waiting area.

Alise approached the desk meekly. Laura strode ahead and registered Alise. Then they sat and waited with the others. The girl next to Laura with freckles and long straight hair looked at her and Alise then their stomachs to determine if both were pregnant. Her curiosity overwhelmed.

“Are you both undergoing the procedure? That’s what they call it here. The procedure.”

“No,” answered Laura.

The freckled girl started saying something about how simple the procedure was. She had been through it before and on and on.

Alise deafened, absorbed in the pamphlet, eyes glued to the pictures. She turned nauseous. Under the words, HUMAN GARBAGE, she read, ‘Did you know this is how big you were when you were only eleven weeks old? From then on, you breathed [fluid], swallowed, digested and urinated. No new organs began functioning after that. You just grew more mature.’ Alise turned the page to more appeals and more pictures.

Laura was involved with the girl next to her who insisted on talking. “I’m nearly three months already. I waited too long, but I was scared shit, you know, though I’m an old pro at this.” She chewed gum.

“Did you come alone?”

“Yeah.”

Laura reasoned the gum chewing and incessant talking were nervous decoys. Laura detached from the girl to talk to Alise, to divert her from the pictures. She turned in time to see Alise running out the front door.

Laura thrust from her seat and caught up to a running Alise on First Avenue after her calls to wait were unheeded. The man with the beard hollered after them.

“We praise you on behalf of your child! You saved your baby!”

Alise stopped running, and sat on a stoop step and cried. Laura caught up.

Laura sat next to her and extended comfort. She ignored curious pedestrians.

“Oh, Laura, I can’t do it. I can’t!”

Laura let her cry on her shoulder.

“Let’s go home. You have time to think about it.”

Alise stayed home the next day and day after refusing to answer the phone or turn on the answering machine encasing in a gloomy environment, a shroud of doom and fear, afraid to see or talk to Ali. She heard him knocking and calling from outside the door the last two mornings. She caged herself.

Laura panicked when calls to Alise rang unanswered. On the second day during her lunch hour, she visited Alise’s apartment, knocked, and then called her name several times. Locks clicked, a chair rattled, and the door opened. Laura winced on seeing her.

“You look like hell.” Alise nodded. Laura entered and closed the door. “What’s the matter with you? You dove into seclusion feeling sorry for yourself?” Alise sat distraught on the sofa. “Snap out of it. Come on!”

“I don’t know how to face him.”

“You haven’t told him yet?” Alise shook her head. “Is that why you didn’t answer the phone?”

“Did you call me?”

“At least six times.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how to tell him. He came to my door but I wouldn’t let him in pretending I wasn’t in.”

“Tell him. What’s he going to do, kill you? Tell him you’ll schedule for next week or the week after.”

“I’m sure he’s worried as I was.”

“Your comment is unrealistic. Face up to him with the truth.”

“No, I can’t face him.”

“Then I’ll tell him.”

“No!” Panic filled the reply.

“You’re absurd. Don’t run from the problem.”

“I’m going to lose him.” Alise wore a crazed fright, a trembling insecurity.

“No you won’t. Have the abortion later.”

“I don’t know if I can go back.” The phone rang. They exchanged looks knowing Ali was at the other end. Laura approached the phone. “Don’t answer!” Alise yelled. Laura froze and watched the phone ring until silenced.

“You’re in bad shape, Alise. If you stay in this apartment by yourself you’re going to go crazy.”

Alise regained control. “If I lose him I’ll go back to being a prostitute.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“No. I’m going to need money to support my baby.”

“Support your…no abortion?”

“I won’t kill my baby.”

Laura collapsed in the chair opposite Alise.

“I’d better sit on that one. Good. Have the baby. I’ll help you as much as I can. I’ve extra money.”

“You mean it?” The future brought a grin to Alise’s distant thoughts. “Oh, Laura, wouldn’t it be great? I want to be a mother.”

“Sure, but you should tell Ali. Stand up to him with conviction: no games, no bullshit. I’m having this baby and that’s final.”

“And then I’ll give him the finger and say – Up yours!” She was excited.

“Right.”

“I can’t.”

“Let me call him. If you want, I’ll go with you. We can face him together.”

“No, no. He’ll never tolerate the meeting.”

“Does he know I know?”

“Yes, I told him.”

“What’s the problem? I’ll be the mediator.”

“It’s best I face him alone.”

The phone rang.

“Shall I answer, Alise?” Ring. “Well?” Ring. “Answer me.” Ring.

“Okay.”

Laura lifted the receiver. “Hello.”

The voice was alien to Ali. “I must have the wrong number. Alise?”

“This is Laura Johnson.” Alise signaled – I’m not here. “Alise is in the shower. Hold for a minute. Who’s calling please?”

“Ali.”

“Hold on, Ali.” She repeated the name for Alise’s ear. Laura covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “Come on.” Alise never budged. Laura stalled then said, “Hello, she’ll be right with you. I hope you didn’t call earlier. We just got in.”

“I did. I’ve been calling for a few days.”

“She came down with a fever after going to the clinic. I brought her to my place to care for her. She’s fine now. Hold on. She’s coming.” Laura covered the mouthpiece. “You have an excuse. Tell him you got sick there and had to leave. That you’ll go back in a week or two. Buy time. Will you come on? Be bright and positive. Don’t let him know he’s got you against the wall.”

Alise approached, accepted the phone, inhaled a deep breath, and emoted a smile.

“Ali?”

“You scared me to death.”

“I did?” He inspired happiness.

“Why didn’t you call? You should have told me where you were. I came to your apartment and pounded on your door. I was scared never knowing what happened to you.”

“I didn’t think you’d react that way.”

“How did you think I’d feel? Or say – Good, she vanished from the earth? Can I see you? How do you feel?”

“Much better thanks to Laura.” She smiled at Laura to signal all was right. “Why don’t you come over?”

“I’ll be right there.” They hung up.

“He’ll be right over. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“I knew you could handle him. Being shut in creates depressing feelings. Sounds like you won’t need a mediator.”

“I’ll be all right. Thanks for the excuse and concern. I love you. Ali’s defense minister arrives next week. Can we double date one night – you know…dinner or something? I understand he’s handsome.”

“I don’t dare look at another man at this time until I pacify Adam. I want to meet him though, maybe in a few weeks after I spend at least two weekends with Adam. I love, love him, the possessive bastard. Okay, in two weeks?”

“That’ll be fine.”

“What’s his name?”

“Fateh Kabani.”

“I know about him. I’ll join you after I soothe Adam. Kabani is a potential warmonger, the perfect Achilles Heart candidate for discussion. You should work on him and include poverty and hunger.”

“That goes without saying. I feel good again.”

“Change your thoughts and you change your life. I’d better go. Go put a new face on and brush your hair. Look good for him.”

“I’ll have him melting at my feet.”

Alise looked forward to seeing Ali. Laura was pleased for her but doubted Ali’s motives.

When Ali entered the apartment, he hugged Alise off her feet.

“I can’t tell you how much I worried.” He kissed her long and hard and squeezed. “Are you all right now?”

She kissed him. “Never felt better. Come, let’s sit.”

She led towards the sofa. He yanked her back into his arms, forced a long kiss that signaled – Let’s go to bed, a familiar signal.

She clasped his hand and led him into the bedroom.

“My mind goes into a different dimension when we make love,” Alise sighed.

They lay in bed looking at the ceiling, holding hands, exhausted. Their lovemaking had more passion than usual.

“Does that happen to you, Ali?”

“I never thought about loving you that way.”

“Did this time feel different to you?”

“I always feel like the first time. I enjoy your intense passion.”

Now that he was loved and contented, she thought the moment perfect to tell him.

“As Laura told you, we had an appointment at the clinic the other day. I wasn’t feeling well and the nurse told me to come back later.” The lie came out fast.

“What’s the problem? Next week or the week after then.”

“For a moment I thought different. That differs from what you wanted the other night.”

“I did want the abortion right away, but now…just as well. I missed you at the office. Kabani arrives on Monday. He’ll stay in New York for two weeks, leave for Washington for a week then return for another week, maybe. Wait until he leaves for Washington before you return to the clinic. This way we can entertain him as we should or as I should. The office needs you. If you go to the clinic you may be unable to work or socialize.”

“Abortions aren’t like giving birth. You’re up and around the next day. It may mean we can’t make love right away. How are you going to survive?”

He leaned over and kissed her.

He kissed her again.

She pulled away suspicious.

“How do you plan to entertain him?”

“We’ll go to the theater a few times, dinner at his place one night, and various ambassadorial socials. I’d like to find a date to occupy him evenings. Then we don’t have to act as chaperones.”

“Where do you get this date?”

“I don’t know. Do you know anyone?”

“I don’t know anyone who’d sleep with him. I asked Laura Johnson to join us for dinner one day. If satisfactory, I’ll schedule her.”

“Don’t you have friends who won’t mind having fun with him? I can’t ask just anyone. You know that. Discretion is priority. After all, he’s important to my career.”

“Are you hinting I volunteer?” He didn’t respond. “Ali?” She sat up abruptly. “Answer me. What did you mean last week when you said I should be friendly and sociable to him?”

“Calm down. I’m too jealous to share you.”

Ali pulled her close and she rested her head on his chest facing away from him. Alise didn’t believe him.

She turned to face him. “Maybe he’ll find his own companion.”

“I doubt he’ll have time.”

“Why do you feel you have to run his love life?”

“It’s good politics. Women are more memorable than routine diplomatic visits. If I take care of him, he will remember. He couldn’t care if I planned a thorough and comprehensive itinerary. He expects that. He’s the future in Syria. And I don’t want to miss any opportunities that will benefit you and me.”

“Then we’ll have to find a companion.”

“Where?”

“How about someone in the office?”

“They’re all pigs or old. We need someone beautiful and intelligent.”

“Don’t worry. By next week, someone will turn up.”

“I don’t see how or where.”

“Find a discreet professional. Plenty of top services in New York.”

“I won’t sleep nights.”

“We don’t tell her who he is.”

“She may see his picture in the papers. Blackmail or something may happen then I am out. No good.”

“I can act friendly but no sex. I’ll give him the warm glances and soft touches when he’s around. I can turn him on to me, as far as I’ll go.”