Jury of One

15

She opens her eyes with a start, popping up on the reclined leather chair, staring into the eyes of Dr. Sarah Karpiel. The doctor, her legs crossed, sits on a stool, reading from a clipboard. She is fair-haired, wears glasses and peers through them at her patient.

“What-did I-?” Shelly’s throat closes.

“No.” The doctor sets down her clipboard and leans on her knees.

“No?” Shelly feels a flood of relief. “I-you didn’t-”

“Shelly, we don’t push abortions on people. We don’t even advocate them. We simply provide a medical option at the patient’s request.” There is a hint of rebuke, or maybe frustration, in the doctor’s voice. “Although it would be preferable not to wait until the last moment to tell us.”

“I–I told you.”

“You withdrew consent, Shelly. You started screaming, as best you could, at least.”

Shelly sits up, gathers her gown about her. Her heart is pounding. She places a hand on her belly and looks up at the doctor. “What did I say?”

The doctor shrugs, but surely she recalls the words. Perhaps she doesn’t want to. “You said ‘no.’ You said ‘stop.’ You said, ‘Don’t do it.’” She adjusts her glasses. “At least, as best as we could understand. I wasn’t going to take that chance.”

“Thank you.” Shelly exhales, looks up at the ceiling and maybe beyond.

“You can return, Shelly, but only if you’re sure. You have some thinking to do.”

Shelly manages her way out of the chair and steadies herself. She knows it now with a vision, a clarity she has never known.