Cassie sunk into the shadows of the pharmacy’s exterior wall. Just thirty minutes after sundown and Brookings was already shrouded in an obscuring darkness. She’d thought that by her second year living there, she would have adjusted to this less than likeable detail of life in South Dakota, but no.
Spotlighted under the fluorescent glow of the streetlight, her friend Dani was making emphatic gestures while yapping on about something their roommate had done. “Can you believe that?” they questioned.
It was Halloween, and a small mass of trick-or-treaters poured out from the doors they were loitering by. An elementary-school aged child dressed as a lion roared at them as they passed, and Cassie jolted back into consciousness. “Sorry, what did he do again?”
Dani sighed and put out their cigarette, twisting their boot this way and that against the snow-covered ground. Cassie watched, motionless, as Dani withdrew their boot, leaving a brown and black stain against the virgin snow. “Dude, what’s with you this week?” Dani asked.
Cassie didn’t know where to begin. She shoved her hands in her coat pockets and looked up to meet Dani’s eyes. “Listen,” she bit her lip and forced a smile. “I need you to do me a flavorrr,” she jested weakly, pulling out the sound of the ‘r’ in an attempt to add lightness to the situation.
Dani scrunched their face in confusion, sensing Cassie’s awkwardness. “I know you too well for this, Cass. What the hell is going on?”
Cassie exhaled and mustered up the courage to push the words out of her mouth. “I’m late, and I—”
“—oh, fuck.”
“I know, I know!” Cassie continued. “Who knows, maybe I’m just late because I’m stressed from the breakup, but point is… I’m late. And I need you to go in there and buy me some pregnancy tests because I don’t want to face that fucking judgmental cashier….” She pulled out a 50-dollar bill from her pocket and held it towards Dani.
They nodded, took the money, and pulled Cassie in for a hug. “You know I love you, right?” Dani said, pulling away and looking earnestly into Cassie’s eyes. They continued, “It’s going to be okay. You hear me?”
Cassie was nodding and fighting back tears. “This cold always makes my eyes water,” she lied and dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her gloves.
3 Weeks
She noticed that he had begun to swirl the wine in his glass. It was a rather sweet Zinfandel, and it clung to the sides of his pristine glassware in the same way that her lipstick had. They had only been seeing each other for a couple months, but this was a mannerism she’d noticed about him right away: Whenever he was convinced he was right, he swirled his wine.
Maybe it’s because he always thinks he’s right, she thought to herself. Or… maybe it’s because we’re always drinking? She took another sip of wine and placed her glass on the table with a clink of finality. Maybe it’s both.
“All I’m saying is….” He put his wine glass down and lifted both his hands above his head as if he were obeying a cop. “…the economy would go to shit.”
“I don’t think making college tuition free would prompt a huge economic collapse,” Cassie retorted. “I don’t see the economies of Norway or Germany or other countries with free college tuition barreling toward economic collapse.”
“Argentina,” he replied, grinning and lifting one eyebrow.
“Come on,” she pushed back. “There are so many other factors at play there. Look. All I’m saying—and you have to remember where I’m coming from here—is that making college tuition free would allow high-achieving students from economically disadvantaged situations the opportunity to attend college. What’s so bad about that?”
He was pouring himself more wine now. “Nothing’s bad about that. It’s just that that’s what scholarships are for! Make ‘em work for it. Isn’t that how you got through undergrad?”
That’s the only thing that even made undergrad possible, she thought. “Scholarships don’t always cover everything,” she said, and thought about the student loans she had had to postpone since entering veterinary school. When she considered the loans accumulating each month, like snow piling higher and higher atop the South Dakotan roofs, she felt about as weak as the top layer of surface hoar—pretty to look at, but easy to break. She sighed, “I guess I would just like to live in a society where the most qualified people, regardless of their financial situation, had access to higher education.”
He set his wine glass down and another clink of finality reverberated through the lofty apartment. “There it is,” he said, and leaned back in his chair to study her under a poignant gaze.
“There what is?” she asked, suddenly confused.
“You know, just because my family has the means to pay for my vet school doesn’t mean that I don’t belong here.”
“What?” she exclaimed. “What are you talking about? That’s not what I meant.”
“Yes it is,” he continued. “You know, I think you better leave.”
“But that’s not what I meant!”
He was already rising from his chair and walking across the glossy hardwood floors to open the front door and usher her out of his apartment and out of his life for good.
As she headed toward the door to collect her coat, she wrapped her scarf around her neck and felt the place where, during their last time sleeping together, he had marked her with a hickey. “Now you’re mine,” he had whispered playfully in her ear. Remembering those words, she began to feel sick and pulled the scarf tighter.
6 Weeks
The sun was just rising as Cassie drove into the parking lot at the clinic and pulled into a spot near the building’s entrance. She remembered being seventeen and going to a similar clinic in her hometown to request antibiotics for a UTI she had developed. An older man and woman in bright pink crossing-guard vests approached her, smiling and pushing pamphlets through the open window. “We’d love to talk to you about your options,” they had said, seemingly in unison.
She looked down at the pamphlets—at the image of Jesus Christ looking saintly and solemn and the picture of an infant sleeping peacefully—and rolled up her window while they stood waiting. “I’m not here for that,” she said through the glass.
She shuddered just thinking about the memory. “What I’d do for it to just be a UTI,” she said to herself, unbuckling and exhaling a cloud of exhaustion into the cold.
Inside the clinic, a woman in scrubs was behind the counter drinking a twenty-four-ounce coffee. She glanced at Cassie and took a clipboard with some papers attached to it and slid it across the desk. “Your name?” the woman asked.
“Cassie Harlow,” she said faintly, looking around and noticing that she must have been the first one. The lights in the waiting room hadn’t even been turned on.
The woman punched a few keys on the keyboard and looked at her computer’s screen. “Cassandra… there you are.” She clicked something with the mouse and turned back to face Cassie. Then she motioned to the clipboard and laid a pen across the top of the papers it held. “I’m going to need you to fill out some paperwork, okay?”
Cassie nodded and picked up the clipboard and pen. Walking to her seat, she couldn’t help but notice all the children’s toys strewn across the waiting room. Stuffed zoo animals, building blocks, and rosy-cheeked dollies greeted her as she scoped out a place to sit. Her sister, who had been trying without luck for the past several months, had preemptively begun to decorate her nursery with similar toys. She sighed and settled into the stiff, pleather armchair. Then, she began to fill-out the paperwork.
How many times am I going to have to see that stupid positive result? She had already tested twice at home. And sure enough, two vertical lines appeared, not once, but twice. It wasn’t a false positive. It wasn’t a fluke. She was simply fucked.
At the onset of her self-loathing, Cassie saw the woman who had been sitting behind the counter set down her oversized coffee mug and push herself back from the desk. She opened a door and let herself into the waiting room. “Cassandra?” she said in a manner halfway between a question and a statement. “Follow me, please.”
Gripping the clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other, Cassie rose and followed the woman through the doorway. They walked down a long corridor which looked nothing like the flatteringly lit hospital hallways of Grey’s Anatomy and House. Then the woman stopped and opened a door to the left. She held it there and motioned for Cassie to go inside. “You’ll find a cup on the counter. Mark it with your initials,” she said. “We need you to fill just up to the line—you’ll see where there’s a mark. When you’re done, just place the cup behind the small metal door, and then you can take a seat in this room.” She motioned to a door across the hall. “The doctor will meet you in there.”
Cassie nodded and stepped inside the bathroom. The lights were already on, but only one of the three lightbulbs still worked. It flickered, and Cassie caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. All she could see were the thick stripes of her sweater stretching across the slim curve of her abdomen. She sighed and moved toward the toilet.
In the room across the hall, she waited for the doctor to arrive. Posters of pregnant mothers covered the walls, and what looked like a cockroach’s carcass had been brushed into a corner on the floor. After a considerable amount of time had passed and the doctor still hadn’t arrived, Cassie pulled out her textbook and began to study for her midterms. About halfway through the section on spaying dogs, the door opened and a man in a long, white coat and glasses walked in.
Cassandra?” he asked and pulled a file folder from where it hung on the back of the door. He slipped a paper inside of the folder and studied it grimly.
“It’s actually Cassie,” she replied.
He nodded and passed the folder to her. Sure enough, the positive results of her pregnancy test glared back at her. When she looked up, she saw the doctor was rummaging through a drawer and sifting through a stack of pamphlets. When he turned to face her, his gaze seemed to rest on the crown of her head. “I know these were not the results you were hoping for,” he started and held out a few pamphlets. “There are several options though, including—”
“—I want an abortion,” Cassie interrupted. “That’s the only option for me.”
He sighed and set the pamphlets beside her on the hospital bed. “You’re almost seven weeks into pregnancy, and in the state of South Dakota, I, under law, cannot perform one.”
“Look. This has taken up almost all of my time for the past two weeks. I mean, I have midterms next week—I can’t be dealing with this right now. How am I supposed to finish vet school carrying a child I don’t want and have no intention of keeping?”
He nodded, his face solemn and unflinching. He continued to stare at the top of her head. “Well, there are services for that too, Cassandra. Support will be there every step of the way….”
But Cassie was already pushing past him, opening the door, and stepping out into the all-consuming dimness of the hallway.
7 Weeks
“Assholes!” Dani exclaimed. “I wish you’d told me you were going. You know I would have gone with you.” They held out their gloved hands, and Cassie took them.
“I know,” she said. “It’s just, I had to miss class for it, and I didn’t want you to have to too.”
They nodded. “Well, it looks like we’re going on a road trip to Illinois, huh?”
“Neither one of us has a car,” Cassie pointed out.
“Then we’ll rent a car.” Their voice was full of confidence and assurance.
As Cassie started to think about the logistics involved in getting to Illinois, her head began to spin. “Dani, we’ve both got midterms next week. I know you need to study as much as I do. You really don’t need to do this with me.”
They took out a pouch of tobacco and began to roll themself a cigarette. Then, licking the seal of their roach closed, they stared straight into Cassie’s eyes. “Cass, you’re not doing this alone.” They lit one end and inhaled deeply. “We’ve got Friendsgiving on Saturday. We’ll go to Illinois on Sunday. We can try to study on the way there and back, and then finals start on Monday.”
Dani listed these plans as nonchalantly as one would list items they needed from the grocery store, and this calmed Cassie. She smiled and nodded, “Okay then. That’s what we’ll do.”
Later that evening, the power went out. Another wind storm. In her small studio apartment, Cassie bundled up in layers and lit candles around her home. Then she settled down at the kitchen table with a flashlight, pulled out her textbook, and returned to studying.
Halfway through a review of endocrine diseases in domesticated small animals, Cassie heard her phone ring. It was her mom. She considered letting the call go to voicemail—seeing what her mother wanted before committing to a conversation—but an impulse for obedience kicked in when she saw the word “Mom” flash across the screen.
“Hey,” she said, dog-earing the page she had been reading and closing her textbook. “How is everything?”
“Oh hi, sweetheart. Just wanted to check-in. I heard you would be getting some wild wind storms this week.”
Outside the wind continued howling, causing the branch of a nearby tree to scratch up against the kitchen window. Cassie winced at the sound of it. “Yeah, the power just went out actually.”
“That must be the second time already in the past two months!” her mom acknowledged, half in disbelief.
“The third actually,” she corrected. “But enough about that. How’s everything back home? How are you? How’s Trisha doing?”
Her mother sighed. “I’m fine, but your sister is still struggling. You know how she and Jude have been trying for over a year now without any luck…” Her voice seemed to wander before ceasing.
“Do you think they’ll try IVF?” Cassie asked.
“Well, actually, I was calling because…” her voice began to trail off again.
Something inside Cassie tightened. Weakly, she responded, “Yeah?”
“You know how some of your mail still gets sent here occasionally?”
“Mhmm.”
“Well, some paperwork from a clinic in Brookings arrived today, and I thought it could be important, so I went ahead and opened it—”
“You opened my mail?”
“Darling, I’m your mother! Of course, when it comes to your health, I just—”
“You just what? Think it’s your right to know everything about me? Mom, I’m not sixteen anymore! I’m a fucking adult and what you just did is a federal offence—”
“Are you trying to have a child?”
“No! Of course not. I’m in no place to—”
“Well, have you considered the possibility of—”
“—of what? Abortion? Of course! That’s the only possibility for me. That’s the only way forward when you’re in my—”
“—of your sister.”
The tightness she had felt earlier turned into something hot and incandescent. As hard as she tried, she could not remove the vitriol from her tone. “Mom, I have to go now. Please, never open my mail again.” She swallowed and finished with an almost silent, “Goodbye.” Then she turned off the flashlight, hung up the phone, and blew out the candles one by one. As she moved about the apartment mechanically, she let the breath within her rise and fall, shallow and weakly. Then she sat on the edge of her bed and let the darkness of the apartment envelope her completely.
That evening Cassie dreamed that she lived undersea in a kaleidoscopic kingdom of coral. She moved with purpose towards the other women, who were preparing for a hunt. Clustered together, they looked strong—intimidating almost—as they flexed their lean bodies and licked their wounds, cat-like. In the safe shadows of a rock, the men gathered to take shelter, for they were all seahorses, bellies swollen with the promise of an impending birth. Unburdened by pregnancy, Cassie pursued a nearby school of zebra fish, who were relaxing within a sunlit patch of water. Their stripes—a blur of black and white—darted this way and that as the fish frenetically dashed between rocks and amidst kelp tendrils. Cassie leapt forward, mouth wide, and felt her teeth sink into the scaly flesh of a straggling fish. As her bite sank deeper and deeper into the meat of the fish, she felt blood begin to pour from its stomach. A red tinge diffused into the water surrounding her. Before long, there was blood everywhere.
Cassie awoke sweating, breathless, and panting. Exhilarated. Wildly, she threw back the covers and leapt up from her bed to find blood running down the insides of her thighs. When she touched her fingers to it, what she felt was thick. When she lifted her fingers to her face, what she smelled was heady.
The next morning, outside the Urgent Care across the street from campus, Cassie waited patiently for the doors to open. She leaned against the brick building and surveyed the damage of the wind storm from the night prior. Branches had been strewn across the parking lot and a crew of electricians was already busy at work untangling a fallen powerline. At least all the snow is gone, Cassie thought and pulled her hat lower.
A man came outside and held the door open, motioning for her to come in. “We’re not taking patients yet,” he said. “But it’s freezing out here, so why don’t you come on in and take a seat.”
Cassie smiled and followed the man inside. A few minutes later, he invited her to the counter to check-in. “Since you’re the first one here, it shouldn’t be too long,” he assured.
She nodded and returned to her seat. Then she pulled out her textbook and flipped open to the page she had left off at the night before. As she returned to her review of endocrine diseases in small animals, the man appeared in the doorway, smiling and asking, “Cassandra Harlow, right?”
“Actually, it’s just Cassie.”
He looked down at his paperwork and scribbled a quick edit. “So sorry,” he said. “Cassie, will you come with me, please? The doctor is ready to see you now.”
Liz Schim is an emerging writer based in Northern California. She has always turned to literature to help her find clarity within the chaos and hopes that her work may do that for others too.