One sunny afternoon
 by Mike Hill

     It was a lovely day, bright and sunny, and Irene, the girl at my side,
the best of company.  We wandered down a side street, talking, heedless of the
world around us.  She told a joke as we walked into the church yard and
strolled  through the gardens.  We stopped at a fountain, its waters
glittering in the light.  A fine spray misted lightly over us as we paused to
look at one of the many brass plaques mounted among the tiles.  It was a
memorial to a kindly soul lost to a war we didn't understand, her brother
Paul.  A silent moment of respect for a friend and brother. 

     Tears rolled down her cheeks, and I held her close and led her away into
the rose garden.  At its gate we strolled past the statue of an unknown saint,
his upturned face a rough bronze casting, an advocate for the dead.  A green
patina of age gave him a timeless dignity.  We left him to his work and passed 
through the bright and fragrant roses across the lawn to the main street.

     "Do you want to cut class?" she asked, her face becoming serious.

     "You mean cut another class?  Let's just cut the entire day."

     She smiled; the world brightened.  "I was hoping you would say that."

     "Want to head over to the park?"

     "OK, but let's stop and get something to drink first."

     "Seven-Eleven's on the way.  We can grab some sodas there."

     "And a bag of chips to snack on."

     "Sounds good to me."

     "Did I tell you that my mom gave me birth control pills?"

     I wondered at that statement so lightly dropped into the conversation.  I
paused a moment.  She knew that I liked her.  Everyone knew I liked her.  I
just couldn't seem to pick a time and place to say it to her.  "No, you
didn't."

     The world dimmed as she grew serious.  "It's like she's giving me
permission to fool around."

     "I think it's more likely that she doesn't want you to mess your life up
by having a baby before you're ready.  Maybe she made that mistake at your
age, or perhaps she is afraid that you will.  It's the era of free love, you
know."

     "She had the talk with me."

     "I had the talk with my dad; thankfully it was short.  We were driving
home from the store, and he just started talking about it out of the blue. 
Man, was that ever awkward.  He wasn't comfortable with it and I just wanted
it to end."

     She stopped and tilted her head.  "I was making my bed when mom came in
and asked me to stop.  She sat on the edge of the bed and asked me to join
her.  'Men are after one thing,' was how she started.  She got all technical
on me, not that she used the words we would.  I hope she does better when my
little sister's turn comes."

     "Did you learn anything?"

     "Yeah, good girls don't do it on the first date. Then she gave me the
pills.  I guess those are for the second date and after."

     "Wow, I thought my dad was bad at this stuff, but that takes it."

     "At least it wasn't my dad.  He's been trying to marry me off."

     "Yeah?" I said as we resumed our walk.

     "He belongs to a lodge, and they had a father and daughter dinner.  Just
us teenage daughters so they check us out as marriage potential for the sons. 
One man tried to set me up with his boy, Tod.  'You're just what he needs, a
wife to settle his wild ways and give him sons.'  A snot-nosed brat that
belongs to the chess club and collects bugs.  But I have to go out with him."

     My heart skipped a beat.  "You going to go out with him?"

     "Dad wants me to.  'It's time you started thinking about marriage and
raising a family.  Besides, it's good business.  His father's an important
man,' he said."

     "That's barbaric!  This isn't the middle ages with arranged marriages."

     "Try telling my dad that.  He thinks women should stay home having
babies."

     "You know he doesn't like me," I said as we crossed the street and headed
to the 7-11.
                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     "He sees you as another boy trying to get me into bed.  'You should have
girlfriends and not hang around with horny guys like that,' he said when you
took me to the street fair.  I think he's just afraid I'm going to get
pregnant and he's going to have to pay the bill."

     "Could the pills have been his idea?"

     "I don't know, maybe.  He might have talked mom into it.  Or he might get 
upset that I have them and think I'm slutting around.  It's hard to tell with 
him.  I think I know where he stands on something and he surprises me," she
remarked as I opened the door to the 7-11 for her.

     "Cop pulling in," Monica the clerk announced as we headed to the sodas.

     "Coke?" Irene asked, ignoring the clerk's warning.

     "Root beer," I called while selecting a couple of ten-cent bags of chips.

     "Oh!  They have polish sausage."

     "I'll put the chips back."

     "Should I grab a couple for you?"

     "Nope, too spicy for me.  I'll grab a bag of nuts."

     "OK, meet you at the checkout."

     The cops were waiting at the checkout for us.  Monica sent a look my way;
I answered with a wink.  One of the cops stirred cream into the foam cup of
coffee he held.  His partner pretended to read a magazine.  I didn't believe
for a moment he was interested in women's hairstyles.  I added a packet of
mixed nuts to the collection and reached into my pocket for some money. 
"That's OK, I've  got it," Irene said and set a fiver on the counter.

     "OK, I'll buy the next round."

     She paid for our things and started to walk out the door.  The cop by the
counter moved to block our retreat as his partner with the coffee blocked the
door.

     "Shouldn't you kids be in school?"

     "We're cutting class.  We wanted some time alone together to work
something out without our friends getting involved.  You know how everyone has
to put their two cents in.  We're going to have to deal with them after school
lets out and really need a little time to ourselves before that happens."

     "The law states you have to be in school."

     "Yes, but we're young and in love and it's a lovely day.  We're just
being pretend sick for part of it."

     "He asked me to marry him," she confided.

     "Got down on his knees and gave you a ring?" one of the officers asked.

     "Cheapskate hasn't got the ring yet.  He wanted to wait until I said
yes."

     "I said I would buy one.  It's just that money's tight and I didn't want
to be stuck with an expensive ring," I pleaded.

     "At least you asked on bended knee."

     "I was trying to do it right.  I just didn't think it a smart idea to
borrow a couple thousand dollars to pay for a set of rings and get turned
down."

     "Set of rings?  You do know you buy an engagement ring first?" one of the
cops offered.

     I put on my best baffled look.  "Uh, an engagement ring?  Not a set of
wedding rings?  I've never done this before."

     "Don't you even think about saying yes until he gives you a ring.  Shows
he's honest and committed," the other cop offered in a fatherly way.

     "And don't make a habit out of cutting class," his partner said.

    "I told you so.  I said a ring was traditional and I want one."

     "Do right by her, son, and you'll never regret it," the fatherly one
remarked as he went out the door.

     "Now that was slick.  You two aren't even dating," the clerk said as the
cops got into their car.

     "He hasn't asked me," she said.

     "Well you haven't asked me either," I returned in jest.

     "The man should ask.  Like the ring, it's tradition.  Why haven't you
asked her?" Monica probed.

     Irene tilted her head.  "Yeah, why haven't you asked me?"
                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     A joking response died on my lips as I looked into her eyes.  I didn't
know what I was going to say, and a confession of sorts bubbled out.  "I like
you, Irene.  I guess everyone that knows us is aware of that.  I've never
tried to hide it; I even rehearsed the words.  I started to say them a few
times and lost my nerve.  The friendship we have is something special,
something beyond simply being friends.  I value that a lot more than I can put
into words.  I want to, but if it didn't work out I lose both a relationship
and a friendship.  I'm afraid of losing what I have with you."    

     She closed her eyes.  "Is that how you really feel about it?"

     I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "I may have put it badly but
yes, that's how I feel about it."

     She opened her eyes, the serious look on her face.  "Keith, will you
answer a question honestly for me?"

     "Sure, what is it?"

     "Would you take the risk if I ask you?"

     "I... Are you asking me?"

     "Everyone but you knows we're dating.  It's time we made it official."

     I seemed to be a bit dizzy.  "We're dating?"

     "Yes, even if you do shy away from the goodnight kiss."

     I wondered as I said, "You mean?  I... Yes, of course I would."

     "You may kiss the girlfriend," Monica laughed, and I did.

     Our lips parted and we looked in each other's eyes.  "Next time, put the
bag down."  Monica giggled, breaking the spell.  On the floor a pool of liquid
spread from a brown paper bag I had forgotten I was holding.  "Get some fresh
sodas; I'll clean up the mess," she added.

     We helped her tidy up and resumed our walk, hand in hand.  How had I
missed it?  Was I really that thick?  I had the urge to giggle.  I was high on
happiness and the blocks passed without notice.  We strolled through the park,
coming at last to the playground.  She hopped onto the merry-go-round and I
gave it a spin then jumped on.  The park spun slowly around us as we kissed. 
"Race you to the swings," she said when our lips parted, and we kicked up sand
on the way.

     In a corner of the park under a tall pine tree, we cuddled on a blanket 
made of newspaper.  We laughed, kissed and carried on as the day turned to
happy evening.  Twilight shifted to night and we cast our clothing aside.  For
a little while we held each other, caressing, kissing.  "I've never..." she
said.

     "Nor have I," I confessed.

     "We will find the way," she breathed... and we did.

     When it was over we lay in each others arms.  She rested her cheek on my 
chest, and the darkness covered my smiles.  For a while we lay snuggling under
the stars, then when it seemed we could no longer put it off we got up and
dressed.  "I need to stop at the bathroom," she remarked as we made our way 
through the park.

     The bathrooms were in a single building, men's on one side and women's on
the other.  A soft light glowed in the doorway, and I headed for the men's
room.  I stood by the women's room door when I had finished my business and
tidied up.  She joined me shortly, saying, "No newspaper next time.  I've got
a backwards headline across my tummy."

     We didn't talk much as we walked back to her house.  It was late but we
didn't hurry.  We walked slowly, holding each other.  "They're going to be
upset that I didn't call, but I don't think I'll be grounded.  Even if I am it
was worth it," she confided.

     "I don't think they are going to believe we were at the library."

     "I wouldn't dare try that.  I think I will say we saw the new Bond movie
with friends and I just forgot to call."

     "Better make it something they wouldn't see in case they ask questions. 
Um... 'Easy Rider' and 'I Want to Hold Your Hand' are playing at the
American."

     "With Tom and Susan.  They dropped us off at the church and you were nice
enough to walk me home."

     "Yeah, that's good, nice and simple."

     We turned into the church yard and walked through the gardens.  We
stopped at the fountain to share the news with Paul.  From an open door voices
raised in song floated out to us.  It seemed a good sign.  We passed through
the parking lot and crossed the street.

     I was high on happiness; I didn't want this night to end.  I wanted us to
keep on walking, walking forever under moon and stars, holding each other. 
But I knew it had to end in just a few short blocks, then a goodnight kiss,
and then the walk home.  There would be other nights, just as wonderful and
magic.

     "I was thinking we could go ice skating on Saturday.  We haven't been in
a while.  Maybe have dinner before we go," I remarked.  Bright lights suddenly 
blinded us, a motor roared, and she screamed.

                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     I pushed her out of the way and gathered myself to jump, but time had run
out and the fist of a giant slammed into me.  I remember little of what
followed: pain and confusion, a voice speaking to me from far away.  Gray,
grayer, black.  Voices in the darkness, pain.  Voices again, talking quietly,
a quality of light.

     I opened my eyes.  White and everything a blur.  Where was I?  My throat
was dry.  No, parched.  I felt... strange, weak.  Yes, that was it.  I didn't
want to jump out of bed and do things.  And I was becoming aware of aches and
pains, a stiffness of body that had never been present before.  The focus was
adjusting slowly, a bright area resolving into a lighting fixture.  More
stiffness became apparent as I turned my head toward the voices.

     Sparkles and ghosts, afterimages in my eyes.  I blinked them away and saw
my mother and hers talking together, Irene seated between them.  My father,
his head bowed as if in prayer.  "Water," I tried to say.  It came out a gasp. 
Heads turned toward me, then Irene was up and by my side.  "I thought you were
going to die," she said, and then, "I love you."  I tried find my voice but
couldn't so smiled and whispered the words to her.

     They were all up. most coming to stand by the bed.  My mother was calling
for the nurse.  I saw tubes and cables rising from the bed.  My arms seemed to
be strapped to something so that I couldn't move.  Questions, a rain of them. 
I nodded my head to let them know I was all right.  A confusion of voices.  My
eyes sought and found Irene.  I wanted to touch her, hold her, tell it was all
right.  I tried to lift my hand to assure her I was OK.  The fingers flexed
but the arm wouldn't rise.  My father stood by the bedside, tears in his eyes. 
Irene's mother, wearing a sad little smile, stood next to her, her hand on her
daughter's shoulder.  "He's all right; everything's going to be OK," she said
soothingly.

     A nurse came into the room followed by my mother and a doctor, and they
chased everyone from the room.  "Water," I hissed as the doctor conducted some
tests.  The nurse gave me water from a paper cup as the doctor consulted a
chart.  "Sip, just a few sips," the nurse urged.  The doctor waited until she
was finished and asked her to return to her rounds.  He seemed to be
considering what he was going to say.

     He moved over to stand next to the bed.  "I think the restraints can go. 
Are you aware of what happened?  You can nod if it hurts to talk."

     I shook my head weakly no.

     He seemed to consider this.  "You were struck by a car, drunk driver.  In
the accident you suffered some internal damage.  The left leg was broken, ribs
cracked and broken.  There was also trauma to the head.  Do you know your
name, address, the year?"

     I thought about it and knew these things, so I nodded yes.

     "Good, good.  There may be some damage, things you can't remember.  Some
of that will vanish in time, and the rest you simply will learn to deal with. 
Do you know who the young lady that was waiting in the room is?"

     I nodded yes.

     "Good.  We had to pin your leg and a couple of the ribs.  That's healed,
of course, and the scars aren't that bad.  You haven't recovered yet.  We need
to  build you back up.  Some physical therapy is necessary, and you need to
get used to solid foods and liquids again.  We can start the process tomorrow
if you feel up to it.  There are a few things you need to be careful of, but
we can discuss that later.  I have rather a delicate matter you should be
thinking about before your visitors return."

     "Healed?" I whispered.

     "Yes, the injuries are healed.  The medical term is a coma.  It means you
were asleep for an extended period of time.  Just about five months due to the
brain injury.  You're a lucky young man; some people never wake up from it. 
There is another matter we should discuss.  It is, as I have indicated, a
delicate one.  If you feel up to it, we can discuss it now."

     I nodded yes and rasped an "OK."

     "You are about to become a father, in about four months I should say," he
said and watched for my reaction.

     "You do understand?" he asked after a while.

     I nodded yes.

     "I'll check back on you after they leave.  We can unhook some of this
stuff and make you a little more comfortable then.  I'm sure you have a lot to
talk about, but don't stress yourself.  Nod when you can and speak little if
at all.  You can sip a little water, but don't swallow it.  If you need
anything, push the button," he informed me and then let the others come in.

     I nodded my understanding.

     There were many things they had to tell me, and I grew tired long before
they had finished.  Five months and it seemed the blink of a moment.  Irene
held my hand through it all until the nurse came and chased them all out.  I
was sleepy when the doctor came in and started unhooking things.

                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    A few days passed, and I had found my voice was feeling fitter.  Rods
formed a brace that helped support my leg, and a walker helped me move around
when I had to.  Irene came every day after school and sat with me.  At first
she did the talking and I nodded.

     I was waiting for the physical therapist when the door opened and her
father walked in.  I looked my watch.  It was a little after ten and he should
have been at work.

     "I wanted to see how you were doing and have a little talk with you.  How
are you feeling now?"

     "They tell me you brought me in and maybe saved my life.  I hear you came
most days until I recovered.  I wondered why you hadn't visited before."

     "Anyone would have done the same.  As for not visiting, well I been busy
and I wanted to wait until you were clear-headed so we could have a talk.  I
wanted it to be a private thing between us.  Tell me, how you are feeling?"

     I had a feeling what was coming.  "Not at all good, but they say I will
be as good as new in time.  I'd kill for a burger and fries.  They have me on
baby food now.  I suspect it's the baby you really want to talk about."

     He returned a weak smile.  "I'm sure you have noticed everyone is making
plans.  They expect you to get married, raise a family, finish school.  Have
you thought about what you want?"

     It wasn't what I expected him to say.  "I have been thinking about it. 
To give an honest answer, I feel I should do the honorable thing.  I don't
know where I will find the money or how I can finish school."

     "My insurance will cover the medical costs until Irene turns eighteen. 
That covers the baby as well for a couple of years.  And you are right in
thinking you can't hold a job and finish school while raising a family.  Of
course you will have the support of both families for a little while, until
you both finish high school and can get on your feet.  But I still don't know
what you want."

     "I'll do the right thing.  I'll marry her."

     He crossed the room and examined the bed.  "You spent five months in this
contraption after doing the right thing.  Who knows if you thought or dreamed? 
They tell me they don't know what goes on for sure.  You wake up and are told
you are going to have a child.  Everyone's making plans, my daughter in white
walking down the aisle after your first real date.  Is that the right thing? 
It is if you subscribe to the rules they want you to live by.  But is it
right?  I can't say what's right for you; only you can.  You have options:
abortion, adoption, to simply walk away from it all, or to do the right thing,
as you call it, and toss what future you may have in the trash."

     I was braced for a stern "You will marry my daughter," but this... I
didn't  know what to say.  He turned slowly and looked at me, his eyes
searching.  Was it his way of telling me he didn't want me as his son-in-law? 
Would I be a bad business risk to his family?  "What is it you want?" I asked.

     "I made a mistake once.  I did the right thing by her.  I was lucky it
worked out as well as it did.  We were older but not much wiser.  I wouldn't
undo that for anything, but I can't say it's right for you or my daughter. 
Right now she believes she's in love with you.  You may think you're in love
with her," he informed me, then took a deep breath.

     "Adoption is the least harmful of the options.  We put her in another
school, and the baby is given away.  You go on with your relationship and see
where it goes.  Or you can give away your rights and never see her or the baby
again.  You're off the hook, just walk away.  I don't believe in abortion, but
the option isn't mine and it may be late for a safe one.  I would argue for
adoption, and I think so will my daughter.  Last, you get married, the biggest
blessing or mistake you ever make.  Think it over and let me know.  I will
stand by you whatever you decide."

     I understood what he was saying, what he was offering me.  He was right. 
Nobody had even asked me; they had just started making plans.  I could walk
away from it, and if I did I was the wrong man for his daughter.  We could
stop it with an abortion, but it wasn't an option for me either.  Adoption let
me walk away in different way, finish school and see if this was really what
we wanted, if it was right for us.  Or I could walk into the trap, face the 
uncertainties, and maybe fail, destroying both our lives and the baby's.  I
was afraid of its all falling apart, of not being a good husband or provider. 
Those thoughts had haunted my nights.  I knew then what my answer would be.

     I looked him in the eye.  "I want to ask for your daughter's hand in
marriage.  I love her and wish to spend my life making her happy.  I know the
odds are against us, but we will overcome them.  Count on that."

     He shook his head and walked to the door, passed through it and let it 
close.  I couldn't help it if it wasn't the answer he wanted.  He would have
to accept that, I told myself.  Time passed slowly, then the door opened.  I
looked up, expecting my therapy session to start.

     It was her father, his arm around his daughter's shoulder.  He brought
her around to the chair next to mine and placed her in it.  "Despite all my
misgivings, you have picked the right man, my daughter," he said as he took
her hand and placed it in mine.

      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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