David Brock
From "Ambassador Bridge"

A man in his late 20s (LOU) and his wife, Genevieve, learn that their first child will be born with Down’s Syndrome. They agonize over whether or not they should continue with the pregnancy.

Apartment. 1AM.

LOU:

You’re supposed to look back on high school and laugh about how meaningless everything seemed.

But I was constantly scared.

I guess nothing changes.

I went to my first dance in grade ten—was too scared to go before.

Got drunk with Mike and Shane. First time for that too.

Before that, I was scared of getting dizzy…throwing up.

At the dance, there was a ratio of like six fast songs—where you could dance with your friends and no one would call you fag—to one slow song.

I was scared of that slow song.

Mike and Shane danced the first two with girls, swapping them between the dances, ignoring them during the six fast dances.

During the first slow dance, I took a piss.

During the second slow dance, I pretended to take a piss.

Mike and Shane called me fag for being chicken shit to ask a girl to dance. 

At some point, there was only one more slow dance.

What are you waiting for, fag?

Shane gave me a drink of booze he had poured into a Dr. Pepper bottle.

An Aerosmith song came on.

I took another drink from the Dr. Pepper bottle and asked Dana Gilles to dance.

She was in my math class and on the volleyball team, and I remember her as someone who was on a lot of teams.

Want to dance?

She was pretty and she said yes.

Both our bodies were hot.

I had a boner that kept me from getting close.

Not that getting close was the right thing to do.

This was, after all, the first time Dana and I had touched.

I could smell her hair. Apples.

I could smell her shoes. Probably the ones she wore to play volleyball in.

The Aerosmith song ended, and she kissed me.

My first kiss. Before then…too scared.

I put my tongue in her mouth, and she rolled it around with me.

Shane and Mike, their girls, me and Dana, left the dance together.

Went to the woods behind the school.

We paired off.

Dana and I sat on a tree stump underneath a sky full of stars.

It was calm and cheesy and I could feel sweat stains in my armpits and underwear.

Dana asked me why I had never talked to her before.

I told her it was because I had a girlfriend at another school.

I wanted her to think I was cool.

Dana asked me if I had ever had sex with my girlfriend before.

I said yes.

She kissed me.

She undid my pants.

I could hear Mike moaning close by.

I heard one of the girls…sounds like she was not having fun, but she kept on doing what she was doing.

I hated the feeling of being inside Dana.

I could feel Dana’s lack of commitment to it.

Like she had to do it.

She felt light and fragile beneath me.

Was I making her feel that way?

When it was over, Dana kissed me, told me she’d see me Monday.

I walked home with Shane and Mike, and we all laughed about how awesome it was.

An incredible sadness followed me home.

I didn’t feel like I wanted to do it again, but now I would have to.

Maybe that was what I felt in Dana’s lightness.

It made me start to like her.

On Monday at school, I walked by Dana in the hall.

She nodded, but didn’t say hi.

So that’s how it worked.

We didn’t say anything to each other.

It’s not like I wanted her to be my girlfriend.

I must have had the stupidest smile on my face for the month as the feeling of how scared I was to actually fuck gave way to the memory and knowledge that I had done it.

At some point, I wanted to do it again.

With Dana.

Or whoever.

Then Dana stopped me in the hall.

After a month apart, I was very excited to be this close to her again.

I thought of the feeling of her body beneath mine—both our jackets on, thighs touching, the cold air and starlight on my ass.

She told me she was pregnant.

Five seconds after she told me, I pictured myself playing catch with a boy.

I was a Dad.

She told me she needed seventy-five bucks.

For the abortion.

Split it, she said.

Fair, she said.

I didn’t have seventy-five bucks.

I went back to the woods behind the school.

Rolled in the mud.

Leaned on the stump where Dana and I had sat before we…

Then tore holes in my jeans on the jagged edge of that stump.

Went home and asked my mom if I could have seventy-five bucks for a new pair of jeans.

Told her I had been playing football with friends.

I gave Dana the seventy-five bucks.

Then I went to the mall and stole a new pair of jeans.

Dana missed the next week of school, and when she came back, we went on, walking by each other in the hall, nodding, not talking.

I didn’t tell Mike or Shane anything about it.

I’ve never told anyone about it, Genevieve.

Then I forgot all about it.

I remember seeing Dana at graduation, dancing with a boyfriend, and I felt bad for the boyfriend who probably didn’t know her secrets.

I promised myself I would tell girlfriends all my secrets.

Of course, in practice, I forgot that promise.

Seeing Dana dance….for the first time, I felt bad for myself.

It was all pretty easy.

It didn’t feel like it should have been.

When you told me you were pregnant, Gen, I remembered stealing those jeans.

And I actually love you.

So what kind of a parent can I possibly be…if that’s what I think of at a time like that?

If that’s what I’m thinking of now?

What kind of life am I gonna be for a kid?