A Question of Rights

Written by Steve McGourty

With help from Charli McGourty

August 9, 2003

Bob and Sarah huddled together under their wind tugged umbrella as they ran across the drenched cobble stone street to the Pub; both of them were getting thoroughly soaked by the blowing rain.  The rustic exterior of their favorite watering hole offered an oversized green wooden door with a polished brass latch in the center.  The door was flanked by hand blown leaded colonial windows spanning the front of the historic building.  Reaching for the door handle Bob glanced up.  His face was instantly assaulted by stinging droplets as he once again saw the battered old sign hanging over the door, now swinging violently in the wind.  In the center of the sign was a faded painting of a shamrock surrounded by a rope tied into an intricate knot.  Some Old English lettering cresting above the rope knot proudly proclaimed “Finnegan's Pub” and under the rope it said, “Est. 1683.”  The establishment was just a block off campus and every time he saw that sign he wondered what past greats had also wasted away their youthful evenings in this Boston pub.

Passing through the ancient green portal they entered a room that seemed to reek with history from every exposed massive white oak beam running across the ceiling, to the fractured yellowed plaster on the ceiling and walls.  The atmosphere was only reinforced by the smell of gallons of spilled beer that had soaked into the cracks of the original unvarnished wood plank floor over the years.  Signed framed and un-framed black and white and color photos of famous past patrons hung everywhere, squeezed in between and on top of other unidentified historic memorabilia.  Intermixed with the memorabilia was a fair amount of currency from around the world tacked, pinned, and glued in place in no particular order.  On previous outings Bob and Sara had spent time scanning the walls and seen photos signed by long past students that had gone on to greatness.  They once shyly admitted to each other that they both hoped they could come back someday and put up a signed photo of themselves.

They stopped just inside the door to close the umbrella, remove their jackets and shake off some rain.  Bob put the umbrella in the stand by the door and helped Sarah get her coat off.  He hung his soaked jacket on the rack next to hers.   Taking his hand and leading Bob away from the drafty entrance Sarah maneuvered them past the sparsely populated small round tables in the front of the hazy room, past the bar and empty stools that filled the middle of the room, to the partitioned booths in the back.  Sarah was glad the booths were all empty, she had her pick.  Each of the four booths were bordered by oak pillars as wide as wine barrels; each pillar was carved in the shape of a mermaid. The wooden figures were unevenly shaded by hundreds of years of smoke, greasy fingers and more spilt beer.  All of the mermaids ample breasts were missing there formerly erect nipples.  Legend had it that love starved sailors had bitten them off one by one over the years.  An alternate legend claimed that the owners chiseled them off to be politically correct in the fifties.  Bob and Sarah had decided that both stories probably had some truth to them.  The nippleless ceiling high mythical sea createchers still managed to hold up the oak ceiling beams and hide back partitions separating each booth.  There was a knot free oak plank partition between the booths with the same intricately carved shamrock and Celtic knot design seen on the sign outside.  The darkly stained old wooden benches had been updated in the fifties with over stuffed green velveteen cushions that were probably starting to show their age in the early 70's.  The family that owned the bar only reluctantly let changes take place, and this included a reluctance to let too much electricity into the atmosphere.  Consequently, as had been true for the last three hundred years, the booths tended to be very dark even on sunny days.

Hoping to gain some privacy Sarah settled in a corner booth as far away from the other patrons as she could get in the small space.  Bob slipped across the well worn velveteen on the straight back bench facing her.  Before they had a chance to say anything to each other a waiter arrived.   They both ordered beers, then after a second thought Sarah told the waiter, "Fred, better make that a coke.  I have to study."  In mid turn he received his new order, nodded an acknowledgement and shot off to the bar.

Once Fred had left, Bob looked across the booth and lovingly surveyed the woman he adored sitting in the shadows.  Just able to make out her features he soaked in his favorite view for the last couple of years, Sarah.  She was slim and tall, young and beautiful, in this light her raven hair and black sweater combined to make her face appear as if it was a delicately carved cameo floating in charcoal ether.  Overcoming the fog of his love, he made sure he was looking Sarah in the eyes and then hesitantly asked, "Are you sure?"

With some sarcasm in her voice Sarah quickly relied, "Yes!"

Bob offered, "It must have been that night about two months ago.  You remember?  We left here really drunk and made love at your place, but forgot to, uh, you know.  We forgot to use a rubber."

Sarah had come to the same conclusion soon after she had missed her period.  She had said nothing to Bob about it until today, after she was able to confirm her suspicion with a positive pregnancy test this morning.  She could hardly see him in the shadows of the dark booth, but there was no mistaking the vortex he called his hair.  He had once told her that he was going for the Einstein look.

She drolly replied, "Yes WE did forget the rubber didn't WE." 

Although she was saying we, in Bob's mind there was no mistaking her tone.  He hoped that she was not trying to push all the blame for this on him.  After thinking for a moment he broke the awkward silence, grinned broadly and asked, "Have you told your Dad?  Is he coming for me with a shotgun?"

Sarah was un-amused with Bob’s attitude; in fact she was getting mad.  He was making jokes about this very serious situation.  "No, I have not told my Dad.  I have not told anybody but you.”

"Well what do you think WE ought to do about it then?"  He lowered his voice and added sheepishly, "Have you looked into getting an abortion?"

 She shot back, “There are other options you know.  I could have the kid and put it up for adoption."  She paused, pointedly stared through the dark and added, "Or I could keep it."

They were regulars at the Pub and both knew Fred the waiter from the numerous less tense hours they had idled away here.  When he returned with their drinks and a smile he asked what was up, but just got blank stares from them both.  After an uncomfortable pause Fred’s smile faded.  He carefully set the drinks down, and turned to leave.  He almost stopped in mid-turn thinking to offer them menus, but in the next half second thought better of it and left with a jerky kind of motion.

Bob took a sip of beer and with a foam filled mustache he picked up where they had left off, "You could do that?”  A small gob of beer foam fell into his shirt pocket just before he wiped his mustache.  “You could give up a baby for adoption?"

"I don't think so but it is an option."

"You don't think you can finish college and take care of a kid, do you?"

"Me take care of the kid alone, and go to school, no.  But, I thought I might have some help.  Where are you in this picture?"

"We have no money to live on now, how can we properly take care of a kid?  I have at least a year to get my Masters degree and you have even more.  I was planning on going on for a PhD, that's at least four or five more years of school.  We both work part-time jobs and have no health insurance.  It makes no sense to have a kid now, and we definitely can't afford it."  Bob knew he sounded insensitive but he also knew what he was saying was the truth.  “A kid now would force you to drop out of school at least one semester, if not more, and then how would we pay for the hospital bills or anything else?  Chances are that you will never get back in school once you have the kid, and I will probably have to drop out and get a real job before either of us completes our education.”  Almost inaudibly he slowly suggested, "I think the best option," quickly correcting himself, "OUR best option… is an abortion."

Sarah shot back, "Oh that is easy, so easy for YOU to say.  It's not your body!  I am not sure I want an abortion.  I am not so sure that it is the best thing for US to do at all." Sarah was getting very mad now and she was not sure why.  In the back of her mind she knew getting an abortion was the reasonable thing to do, but it bothered her that Bob had said it.  Where, did he get the big idea that this is his choice?

It was not hard for Bob to detect the anger in Sarah's voice and he was fighting to not go there himself, "So what do you suggest?" 

"I think we should keep it."

Bob reacted as if she had just slapped him; he bounced back in the booth and his head bounced off the oak partition, he did not notice any of his motions as his mind raced with this unexpected news.  He struggled to find the logic in this very emotional situation.  "WHAT?  Why now?  We can have all the children you want after we graduate.  Do you want to give up on college?  Why do you want to make your life, OUR life, so damn hard?  Why do you want to make the worst possible choice?" 

"Mostly it’s because I want to keep the child, but some of it is that I now feel that it is wrong to get an abortion!"  Sarah was not sure she was completely convinced of this statement but the powers of her motherly instincts, after only six weeks of pregnancy, were already kicking in.  “Would you deny me one of the fundamental joys of being a woman, to have a child?  How could you ask me to deny this fulfillment just because it was inconvenient for you? Trust me; it will be a lot more inconvenient for me than it will ever be for you!”  After a long silence and some uneasy glances through the gloomy shadows of the booth she became more determined that ever by his silence.  She took a sip off the straw in her drink, cleared her throat and boldly stated, "I just don't feel right about getting an abortion."

"I can't believe you said that.  We have talked about this and you have told me on many occasions it is the right of every woman to control her own body.  You have marched for the right for a woman to choose with your mother and me.  How can you suddenly feel differently?"

After a short pause she said, "Well, yes, at least for me, I do feel differently.  What other women do is up to them, but I don't think I should or even could get an abortion."  Sarah was trying hard to sound convinced as she continued, "Now that it is a real life decision and not a theoretical one I am not so sure I could go though with it.  It is our child.  I want to keep it.  How could you let me kill our child?"

"In the words of the Supreme Court, it is a fetus, not a child.  And, yes I could condone an abortion in our case, at this stage of your pregnancy.  I do not want a child now and I thought you didn’t either.  Getting an abortion is absolutely the right thing to do in our situation, and yesterday, I would have thought you would agree."

"Yesterday I might have, today I am not so sure.  Is it so wrong to want this child?"

"No, no, I want children too, but after we are married and out of school.  When we can afford them, when we can take care of them properly."

"You should have thought of that before you forgot the rubber!"

"YOU WERE THERE TOO!"  Bob had raised his voice enough that everyone in the Pub glanced back at their booth.  He slipped deeper into the booth's dark cover as he strained to regain control, "How are you not equally responsible for this?"

"OK, OK.  I don’t want to argue that little detail.  I really think I want to keep the baby and," she hesitated slightly then blurted out, "we should get married, now."

"Keep the baby and get married?  Do I get any choice in this little fantasy of yours?  You may not want to argue about it but you are making a decision that will affect both of us.  If you want me to take care of this child shouldn't I get some say in if we keep it or not?  And I am real sure that I get a voice in the marriage decision."  Bob was just as sure he was not prepared to be a father, especially this early in life.  He was only 24.  Christ, he was still in school. “You know as many other couples with kids struggling through college as I do, and you know, without exception, it is very hard to raise a child while in school.  It also bothers me a lot that suddenly you are changing everything on me.  Now you are talking about getting married!  Just a few weeks ago YOU decided not to move in with me because YOU weren't ready for that much commitment.”

"Well don't you think it is the right thing to do, to keep the baby, our baby?  And if we are going to have a baby together we should be married."  A little calmer now, Sarah tried to but could not understand Bob's anger; she had thought he would be happy to hear this news.  Sarah was very confused by his reaction.  This was his first child, how could he not be excited about it?  As for marriage they had always said they would get married after school, this just moved it forward a bit.   She was sure he just needed some time to adjust.  It was unexpected news. "We can adjust our lives.  People do it every day.   Is it really asking that much?  We both want kids, this is just changing the schedule a little."

"YES it is asking that much.  It simply is not the right thing to do.  Nor is it the right time.  I do not want a child right now and if you don't want an abortion we should arrange to give the child up for adoption.  Our old schedule was right, your new plan sucks.”  Bob did manage a smile after that last assessment. 

"I don't want an abortion and I don't want to give up the child.  I want to keep the child, I just don't feel right about giving it up!  You have to support me on this!"  Sarah was not sure if it was emotion, hormones or anger talking, maybe all three.  She searched for signs of comfort and compassion from the shadowy figure across the booth as tears started to run down her cheeks.

The dark figure leaned forward revealing a stern face she had never seen before, "Fine, don't have an abortion, but it only makes sense at this point in our lives to give the kid up.  You may want the baby, but I do not, and you are asking, no, telling me that I must live with your bad decision.  Look, if you want to keep the kid that is your prerogative, but you have no right to expect me to just roll over on this decision, not when there are much more reasonable alternatives that you are refusing to consider.  There is too much at stake here for me to let you ruin our lives."  Bob regretted taking it to such an extreme as soon as he had said it, but he was thinking that she needed to be shocked out of this irrational state of mind.

Sarah took the soggy napkin from under her Coke and tried to wipe the tears away while at the same time managing to smear mascara across both her cheeks.  She leaned forward, looked Bob straight in the eyes and in a firm but very determined whisper said, “I am keeping the child!”  She had not been sure of anything before speaking to Bob, but his callous disregard for this life that they had created just made her want the child all the more.  Someone had to protect the baby, didn't they?

"Then you are keeping it alone and without my help."  Bob felt like he was in a bad dream.  How could she begin to believe that keeping the baby was the right decision?  Even though he thought he understood why she felt the way she did, he hoped that being harsh with her would snap her back to reality, out of the hormonal glow of motherhood.  Just to make his point clear he added, "You want it you take care of it."

"Bull-shit, you helped make it and you will help take care of it."  Sarah was beginning to feel as if she did not know, maybe had never really known, the man sitting across from her.

"I also have made it clear that I do not want the child and there are still plenty of good options for how we can rationally deal with this situation."  Bob added firmly, "If you choose to keep the kid against my wishes that is clearly your choice, and your right, but I have rights too. You don't get to choose how I spend the rest of my life any more that I get to choose how you spend the rest of yours."

"The law says otherwise."  The tears had dried up now.  Sarah could hardly believe what she was hearing Bob say.  His mean-spirited attitude toward her and the baby had forced her to get her emotions in check.  She keep a steely glare on Bob as he spoke.

"The law is wrong if it says that you can make this kind of a decision for me.  I respect your right to do whatever you want with your body, and if need be, with the baby.  While you may not like it, you must respect that I have the right to a choice as well.  You are talking about putting me in a state of indentured servitude against my will.  That was known as slavery in another time.  I choose that I do not want the kid, why does your choice trump mine?"

Sarah thought about the question for a moment and then answered, "Because you gave up your right to a choice in this matter the minute your sperm entered my body."

Bob scowled at Sarah.  He really loved her and he had always hoped he would marry her someday, but he found her reasoning on this topic absurd.  "The only right I gave up when my sperm entered your body is the right to choose what you do with that sperm.  Our mutually agreed to act of intercourse does not grant you power of attorney over my future.  What you are saying is that you have total authority over your body but insist on sharing responsibility for its actions.  That is what we enlightened people call a double standard.  I will be glad to share responsibility, but then I must demand a voice in the outcome.  I really hate to put it this way but you have forced me into this corner.  If you give me no choice in this matter, then you can not expect me to share responsibility for your bad choice."

"You are twisting this all around. Yes, this is a question of responsibility, but it is about you being responsible for your actions.  At this point it is about biology, not political rhetoric."  Sarah was incredulous that Bob was playing a twisted logic game.  "This is not about logical arguments it is about us, it is about our child."

"I see, don't bother me with logic, just do as I say.  Ok, let’s leave logic out of it.  I will leave the real choice here totally up to you.  Which will it be me or the kid?"

"I choose both.  I want you and I want our child.  I can not believe that you are forcing me to make this choice.  Don't you love me?"  The tears again began to streak down her cheeks.

Bob reached out and offered his hand across the table which she gently enwrapped with both of hers; looking her in the eyes he tried to comfort her, "Of course I love you.  I will marry you tomorrow if that is what it takes to prove my love for you.  But I am sorry, we can not, and you should not, keep the child.  Not at this time!  I just do not understand why you are choosing to keep the kid.  We have talked about this.  It is absolutely the wrong choice for us at this point in our lives.  I will not let you ruin our lives just to affirm your right to make a very bad choice.  On top of that, I will never allow you to dictate my life.  Would you accept me telling you that you have no choice in the matter, that you MUST get an abortion?  Of course not, nor should you."  Bob squeezed her hand and added as gently as he could, "Please, give the child up, for us, for our future."

Sarah admitted to herself that Bob did have a point, she would never accept Bob having the final say about her future or her body, but this was different.  “You made the choice to make love to me and now you must accept the consequences.  How can you be so cold and unemotional about this?  How can you not want to support me on this, to support me in my greatest time of need?”  After a short pause, with no emotion in her voice at all she added, "I want the child and I think I want you to be its involved Father and my Husband, but if you can not agree with me on this I WILL hold you responsible for child support."

"So you will not budge.  It's your choice and if I do not do as you demand you will send the law after me.  And I thought you loved me, it appears all you really want is total control over my life.  I will not allow it; I do not accept that you can impose this life altering decision on me.  You choose to keep the kid; you choose to boot me out of your life.  Are you ready for that?"

"No, I want you and the child in my life.  I love you, but you can not force me to give up this baby, our baby."  Again she could not hold back her tears as she pleaded, "Don't ask me to make this decision.  Don’t do this to me… to us." 

"It sounds to me like you have already made up your mind.  You are saying that this decision is yours to make and mine to blindly comply with.  That is flat out wrong and you would never tolerate being treated like this.  Nor will I."  Bob slid out of the both, stood up was about to walk off but turned and leaned on the table with both hands.  He looked down at the woman he still loved more than anything else in the world and said softly, "Tell ya what, why don’t you take a week to think about it.  If and when you come to your senses call me, I will be very supportive."  Standing erect he pulled a 10 from his pocket and threw it on the table.  He then turned and walked to the front of the Pub, put on his still damp jacket, reached for the umbrella, but left it.  Opening the door and stepping out he was once again in a torrent of blowing rain.  He never looked back.

Sarah sat alone in the dark corner booth quietly sobbing as she came to grips with the fact that she had just watched the man she loved, the father of her un-born child; possibly walk out of her life forever.  They had reached an impasse; they both knew they were right, and neither was willing to waver.  She could not help but wonder if being right about having and keeping this baby was worth the price she would have to pay.