Thursday 29 November 2012

Coming Home and Going Away- The Life of Jane

                            Chapter Eight - The Life of Jane


           A still young Jane Sinclair got off the bus in downtown Fredericton in August 1961. The 24 year old graduate of King's College in London looked around her small home town and sighed. Yes it looked like the same old place, a small outpost of commerce in a land of forests, massive distances and extreme weather.
     Jane had come back from England with a degree, somewhere between a Master of Arts and a Ph.D.
Her thesis ran to 175 pages and was titled 'Metaphysical conceits in John Donne's poetry'. "Metaphysical conceits," Jane would tell anyone who wanted to liasten, "bring together images and things that seem unlike."
      The problem was no one it seemed wanted to listen. Everyone Jane met after her return to Fredericton were busy with their own lives. The women of her own age that Jane ran into in the streets, the hairdressers salons or the supermarket, were all married. Some of them pushed prams in which inside were their babies, often their second child. Others proudly showed off their growing offspring.
      The young men Jane had known in high school were now working to support their growing families. Others had left, or as Maritimers used to say "were away",  working in Toronto, Halifax, Calgary or even far off Vancouver.
     "Oh Bob Taylor is living in Toronto," Maureen Ross, one of Jane's high school classmates told her about someone who they both had gone to school with. "He's married like me with two kids, I think."And so it went, as Maureen reeled off name after name of young people of roughly their own age. It seemed nearly everyone they'd gone to school with, were married or had left town or had done both.
      "And what about you Jane?" Maureen, a medium sized woman with brown hair asked as she held hands with one of her very young daughters. "Are you getting married soon?" Jane shook her head and said goodbye to Maureen who had just come out of a downtown meat store. "Shopping for the family," she'd told Jane as she said goodbye too. "We're all big eaters in the Ross family and this  is the day  when I fill up the fridge and the cupboards."
       Jane felt shaky after a few meeetings with people of her own age. Even in Fredericton, she saw the turnover of generations and the passage of time. 

Tuesday 20 November 2012

Life of Jane continued

                                      In The Hospital Continued



       As Teresa had warned  Jane, the two policemen who came to see Jane were less sympathetic than Doctor Morrison had been.
      "You've committed a crime miss," a big bearded detective in a grey suit said, as he looked down at her. "Attempted suicide is a crime in this country. I don't know about Canada where you come from, but here it's an offence."
    Jane never did find out if this was true. She felt hopeless and totally depressed.
     "Have you ever been pregnant?" she asked the two men  as they sat down on wooden chairs  and pulled them up near her bed.
      "My wife's been pregnant three times," the other policeman, a short, thin man said. "She's never tried to kill herself."
     "She's lucky," Jane said as she forced herself to smile. "She's got you."
     "Tell her that on some days and she'd laugh at you."
   "By the way," the big policeman asked. "Did you slash your own wrists? Quite a professional job that was. Wasn't somebody else was it?"
      "You didn't hire someone did you?" the smaller man asked. "Some people pay for this. And then there's the person who phoned in to the ambulance? Who was that?"
     "I cut my own wrists. And I don't know who phoned the ambulance. In any case I wanted to die. Still do, if I have to have this baby."
     The small man grunted and jotted down some  notes in a notebook that he'd pulled out of his jacket. Then both men got up, said goodbye and left the room.
     A few hours later, Doctor Morrison came back to the room. It was dusk and somewhere out beyond the hospital, the sun shed a few of its last rays of the day into the room.
     "Well, Miss Sinclair, we'll give you an abortion," the doctor said. "But don't do this again.
 And a psychologist from this hospital is going to come and see you.You need treatment."
      Jane felt so relieved. "Thank you doctor," she managed to say. "Thank you so much."
      "Keep away from men for now, especially wandering Yanks  who don't wear rubbers."
     "I plan to doctor. I won't show up here again."
      Morrison left and Jane felt a huge wave of joy sweep through her. But it was followed by sadness, for she was helping kill an unborn child..
     "But my God," Jane said to herself, "I can continue with my life now." Then she turned on her side and promptly went to sleep. Her life was back to normal.
     
     

Tuesday 13 November 2012

In the Hospital- The Life of Jane continued

                                    In the Hospital


    Teresa had prepared Jane well for her next few days in the hospital.Not only had she slashed Jane's wrists, but she'd told her what to say when the police and the doctors showed up. A tall white coated doctor named Morrison came to visit Jane on the first day of her stay in the hospital.
      "What's your name?" he asked Jane as he picked up her chart and scanned it. "Oh right, Jane Sinclair," he said as he smiled down at her. He ran his left hand through his thick black hair and asked her "Do you do this often, Miss Sinclair?"
     "Only when I'm at my wit's end,doctor."
     "Which is when, if I may ask?"
     "When I'm pregnant with a man's baby. The man is a louse who ran away. So yes I wanted to die."
     "And the father? What's he doing now."
     "Who knows, somewhere in America, I guess."
     "He's an American is he? What part of America  is he living in?
      "I don't know and I couldn't care less."
      "And will you try to kill yourself again, Miss Sinclair?"
       "If I have to bear this child again, yes I will."
       "So if we get rid of this unborn child , you'll get better. Is that it?'
       "It is," Jane said and suddenly was overcome by a flood of tears. "Help me doctor," she cried. "I just can't have this child." Jane knew the other young woman in the room could hear her cries. But she didn't care. "Please help me." Jane had never felt sadder lying in her hospital bed with bandaged wrists and in this huge city so far from home.
       Doctor Morrison shook his head and said in his northern English accent, "I'll try Miss Sinclair, I'll try."
      

Saturday 10 November 2012

The Life of Jane continued

                 Abortion but not on demand continued


            A day later at ten o'clock on a sunny morning, Teresa stood at Jane's door dressed in a dress with a checker board pattern on it. She was also wearing black high heels. For a moment, Jane could imagine they were both going out together on some outing. Then she flopped herself down on her bed. She was wearing jeans and an old faded pink blouse.
       Teresa sat on the bed and pulled out a thin new razor blade. "It'll hurt  a little love," she whispered. "So get ready." Then she expertly slashed  Jane's right wrist and then her left wrist. Then she dropped the razor blade on she bed right beside Jane and scuttled out of the room. "I'm off to use the pay phone outside," were her parting words.
      Jane started to scream. Pain dug into both her wrists. Blood gushed out onto the bed and soaked the gray  bedspread. "Help me! Oh help me!" Jane cried out again and again. Ten minutes later, ambulance men burst through the doorway and into her room. They took her downstairs on a stretcher. The vehicle tore through a warren of London's curving streets to stop at a local hospital. By this time, Jane didn't know where she was.
       She had passed out. When she woke up she was in a hospital bed. Now she had to prepare herself for a few interviews. I"d better do well,  she thought. Otherwise I won't get an abortion.