Poem: "So Much Gray Area"
This poem is spillover from the October 1, 2024 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from Dreamwidth user Dialecticdreamer. It also fills the "I see you and you're not alone." square in my 10-1-24 card for the Fall Fest Bingo. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with DW user Fuzzyred. It belongs to the Damask thread of the Polychrome Heroics series.
WARNING: This poem contains intense and controversial topics that may disturb some readers. It includes asking a favor from someone who didn't volunteer, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant teenage boys, recent molestation by an adult woman with superpowers, inadequate sex education, jumbled feelings, choice paralysis, discussion of abortion, gay couple wanting to become parents, foster care, and other challenges. If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward.
"So Much Gray Area"
[Friday, July 18, 2014]
Mallory was washing dishes
when her vidwatch went off.
She grabbed a towel, dried
her hands, then checked
the number on the screen.
"Why the hell is SPOON
calling me?" she demanded.
"I'm not signed up for anything."
They might be goody-two-shoes,
but they did have some good classes.
"We have a ... situation," said Groundhog.
"I'm hoping you might be willing to share
your experiences with soup pregnancy."
Mallory wanted to refuse, but then
she thought about how Damask
had taken her in when she had
nowhere else to turn, and how
it would've been so much better
to talk with someone other than
her own nemesis about this.
"What kind of time are you
talking about?" she asked.
"Just an hour or few, it's
up to you," said Groundhog.
"I can send you a teleporter."
"Fine, but you better make it
someone who does not mind
being barfed on," Mallory warned.
"That's a credible threat nowadays."
"I'll send you someone rated for
medical transport, of course,"
said Groundhog. "That will
guarantee a smooth ride."
"I'll believe it when I see it,"
Mallory said, then went
to leave a note about it
so her housemates would
know where she had gone.
To her surprise, the ride
was exactly as smooth
as Groundhog promised.
The teleporter landed neatly
on the teleport pad just outside
the Onion City SPOON base,
then held the door for her.
Mallory found Groundhog
behind the reception desk in
the comfortable waiting room.
"Okay, I'm here," she said.
"Now where do you want me?"
"Go down the consultation wing
to the Schefflera Room for
small group counseling,"
said Groundhog. "We
really appreciate you
agreeing to help today."
"Soup pregnancies need
all the support we can get,"
said Mallory. "I figure if
nothing else, maybe this
will be good for networking."
"That's the spirit," he said.
"Holler if you need anything."
The Schefflera Room was
about half again the size of
the little shoebox rooms used
for single or couples counseling.
It had a couch, several chairs,
two cubical storage ottomans
that probably held fidgets or
other therapeutic materials,
end tables, and a rolltop desk.
A narrow bookcase filled with
self-help and soup titles stood in
one corner, and a tall houseplant
spread itself in front of the window.
It had a cozy, homey feel that
helped Mallory relax a little.
A woman with long dark hair
and vivid rainbow eyes wore
the navy blue uniform that had
the SPOON logo embroidered
in silver on the chest pocket.
Three boys -- and they were
very clearly boys, not men yet --
huddled together on the couch.
All of them were visibly pregnant.
Okay, Mallory had not expected
that, and it would've been nice
if Groundhog had warned her
about that aspect of the issue.
For a moment, she just froze --
she wasn't a counselor and
had no clue what to say.
Then she thought about
what she wished someone
would say to her, and she knew.
"I see you and you're not alone,"
Mallory said. "We'll sort this out,
and we'll get through it together."
"Thanks," said the boy on the end.
"It's slightly less awful with company."
"Hi, I'm Prismae," said the woman. "I'm
a superpower reader. I also help people
to understand their abilities and decide
what to do after they've manifested some.
Are you our voice of experience about
superpowered pregnancy issues?"
"Um, yeah, Groundhog asked
me to come talk about that. I'm ...
Mallory Brasher," she finished, since
she wasn't currently dressed as Farce.
"I'm seven months pregnant, and I'm
just starting to get a handle on this."
She took the chair nearest the door,
since Prismae had the corner chair,
a lovely leather thing with a tall back.
"Boys, would you like to introduce
yourselves?" Prismae invited.
The first one was tall and blond,
skinny except for a bulging belly.
"I'm Kenyon Wyclef," he said.
"I'm fifteen years old, and I'm
eight months pregnant. I like
skateboarding, or did -- this
is wrecking my balance."
"Oh yeah, these days
I can trip over thin air,"
Mallory grumbled. "It
really sucks to deal with
a center of gravity that
changes all of the time."
"I'm José-Luís Rodriguez,"
said the Hispanic boy. "I'm
seventeen years old, and
I'm seven months pregnant.
I like graffiti art and watching
Spanish-language movies."
"I forgot that, I like graffiti art
too," said Kenyon. "That
makes for great protest art."
"Yeah, I know," Mallory said,
smirking a little. She'd done
a bit, though her skill was more
with computers. "I've met a few
of the graffiti artists around, and
they're pretty interesting people."
Okay, most of the ones she knew
were also supervillains, but she
was pretty sure that the nary ones
would be similar in personality.
The last boy was black, and
he scrunched in on himself.
"I'm Latroy Pickens," he said.
"I'm sixteen years old, and I'm
six months pregnant. I like
blues music and soul food."
"Mmm, sassy greens, with
vinegar and pepper flakes,"
Mallory said. Simon had
maybe gotten her hooked.
Interestingly, while the baby
sometimes tossed everything
just for the hell of it, spicy food
that gave other pregnant ladies
heartburn seemed to stay put
more often than not for her.
"So to give you some backstory
that everyone has already agreed
is relevant, a high school gym teacher
named Kendra Cogar has molested
several students, of whom at least
these three have gotten pregnant,"
said Prismae. "We're still ... checking
to see if any more victims turn up."
"Yikes," said Mallory. "That's awful.
Mine wasn't on purpose either, but
at least that was just me being stupid
at a party, not someone in charge of me."
"It wasn't your fault," Kenyon said softly.
"People keep telling us that, so. It wasn't
your fault either, whatever happened."
"Thanks," Mallory said. "Maybe if
I hear it often enough, eventually
I'll start to believe it. So far, it
doesn't really sound true to me.'
"Same here," said Latroy. "I'd
heard about Mrs. Cogar, so I
should have known better."
"She is an adult. You are
a teenager," said Prismae.
"Everything that happened is
entirely her fault, not yours.
You had every right to expect
safety from teachers at school."
"Yeah, whatever," said Latroy.
"It's nothing new, they all suck,
because it's a shitty high school in
a shitty South Chicago neighborhood."
"So, let's focus on something that isn't
shitty," said Mallory. "I do recommend
the SPOON sex education classes. Folks
here might be pushy about the superheroing,
but that class covers way more than what you
get in high school, especially a bad school."
Kenyon wrote it down. "Yeah, ours was
'Don't knock up the girls' and that's about it."
"Definitely a sexist approach," said Prismae.
"The SPOON class is more comprehensive.
We have diverse parenting classes too."
Kenyon and Latroy both flinched.
"If you’re looking for answers,
it helps to talk with other people,
especially if you’re feeling alone
in your decision," Mallory said to
the boys. "Pregnancy isn’t black
and white, whether you choose
to continue it or to terminate it.
There’s so much gray area."
"Yeah, sometimes I don't know
what I'm feeling," said Kenyon.
"Same here," Mallory admitted.
"It’s okay to feel sadness and loss,
or happiness and relief. You're doing
what you think best for you and your life.
Nobody can ask more than that from you."
"I wish," Latroy grumbled. "Everybody's
got an opinion about my body, but
fuck 'em. I'm the one stuck with it."
"Okay, has anyone talked about
next choices?" Mallory asked.
"Because I spent months
floundering through that."
"I was hoping that you'd
be willing to help cover it,
so I have not yet broached
that topic," said Prismae.
"Wish that I'd known to bring
my notebook," Mallory muttered .
"Well, a pregnant person typically
has three choices: parenthood,
adoption, or abortion. Of course,
superpowers can complicate that
a bit, but those are the basics."
"I want it gone," Latroy snarled.
"My momma and grandma both
got knocked up early, and it ain't
great for anyone. I don't even know
how far back that shit goes, but it ain't
goin' no further. It stops with me."
"All right, if you're sure that's what
you want, then we'll do everything
we can to support your choice if
it's possible," said Prismae.
"What do you mean, if it's
possible?" said Latroy. "They
told me it would be my choice!"
"In a very few cases, pregnancies
involving superpowers have ways of
protecting themselves," said Prismae.
"It's rare, but I don't want to make
promises I can't keep. That's why
I phrased things the way I did."
"Shit," Latroy said heavily.
"Be just my fuckin' luck."
"Only a handful of cases
have been documented,"
said Prismae. "I'll introduce
you to SPOON's medical staff,
and they'll take care of you."
"Yeah, let's get this shit done,"
said Latroy. "Bad enough having
to deal with people staring and
laying a load of guilt on me.
Sooner it's over, the better."
"Your life matters," Mallory said
to him. "Not everyone wants
the same things, so do not feel
guilty for choosing what you need.
It's your life to live, not theirs."
"Well, I'm keeping mine,"
said José-Luís. "I have
relatives who can help me
take care of the baby later."
"Are you sure?" said Mallory.
"It's a big commitment, and
sometimes people will promise
you the moon then flake on you."
"Unplanned does not mean unwanted
or unloved," said José-Luís. "It just means
life knew what I needed before I even did."
"Despite the circumstances?" said Prismae.
"That may make people uncomfortable."
José-Luís just shrugged. "It won't be
the first baby in our family who didn't
come from an act of love," he said.
"Then I commend your compassion,"
said Prismae. "We have materials
for super parents, including some
about raising superkids, just in case."
"Yeah, that's probably a good idea,"
he said, then sighed. "Do you have
any in Spanish? I'm really tired of
translating everything for my relatives,
and most of them came from Mexico."
"Of course," said Prismae. "Take
copies of the handouts in both
Spanish and English, if you like."
"Kenyon, what about you?"
Mallory asked. "You've
been pretty quiet here."
"I don't know," said Kenyon.
"I'm still thinking about it. I don't
want to get an abortion, I couldn't."
"Yeah, me neither," Mallory said.
"People told me to think about it,
that it would make the problem
go away, but I just ... couldn't."
"I don't think I'm ready to be
a father," said Kenyon. "It
scares me half to death."
"I know I'm not ready to be
a mother. My parents are
crap at it," said Mallory. "But
I'm taking classes, and now I
have people around me who
do have good parenting skills."
"I'm only fifteen," said Kenyon.
"That's ... really young for this."
"That's true," said Prismae. "It
raises the risk of complications,
even with superpowers, and that
includes postpartum problems
with parenting, not just childbirth."
"I can't just ..." Kenyon hugged
himself. "I can't. I have to do this."
"Okay, that's your first choice,"
said Mallory. "Then think about
what you might want to do next."
"That's the hard part," said Kenyon.
"I keep trying, but I have trouble
holding it all in my head. I used
to think, if I tried hard enough,
then I could get a decent job
and get out of South Chicago.
Now, I don't know, it seems
like my priorities are shifting."
"Pregnancy changes you
as a person," Mallory said.
"It is this amazing journey
that shifts your focus and
pushes you to re-evaluate
your life and priorities. It
changed me, even before
I decided to keep my baby."
"How did you ... get there?"
Kenyon said. "Deciding?"
"A friend gave me a piece of
very good advice," said Mallory.
"He suggested that I take time
to imagine myself making each
of the choices I was considering.
Live a week or two as if that was
going to be my path. It helped."
"Yeah, that seems like a good idea,"
said Kenyon. "I don't know where
to start with the adoption path, though.
If I did, I'd probably consider it more."
"We can help with that," said Prismae.
"SPOON is involved with adoption
because so many superkids are
given up, abandoned, or abused."
"That's just it," Kenyon groaned.
"I can't abandon my baby! I need
to know it'll go to a good family."
"I might be able to help with
that part," Mallory said slowly.
"When I was thinking about
adoption, I interviewed people
who helped me work through it."
"I think I'd like that," said Kenyon.
"I know I need more information."
"How do you feel about gays?"
Mallory asked, leaning forward.
"They're okay, I guess. They're
just people like anyone else,"
said Kenyon. "Why do you ask?"
"Because the couple I talked with
are gays who work at my college,
Professor Nigel Bonneville and
Theodore Cummings," she said.
"They'd make great parents."
"Would you introduce me?"
Kenyon asked. "Wait, would
they even be interested in
adopting a baby like this?"
"I'd be happy to introduce you,"
said Mallory. "I'm sure they'd
be interested -- they have been
sitting outside the women's clinic
with a sign that they want to be
parents. They would have loved
to take mine. But I could ask."
"Yeah, I'd rather they have
some warning," said Kenyon.
Mallory pulled out her phone
and dialed Mr. Cummings' number,
adding the This Is Important code.
"Oh hey, Mallory, are you all right?"
Mr. Cummins said, sounding anxious.
"I'm great, thanks," she said. "I've
got an opportunity for you to talk with
a teen parent about pregnancy choices.
He wants to know if you're okay with
a baby who might have superpowers."
"Tell him the rest of it," Kenyon said.
"He also wants you to know that he
was molested by his hyena gym teacher,"
Mallory added. "Does it make a difference?"
"No, we will welcome with love whatever child
may come into our lives," said Mr. Cummings.
"Does the father need legal or social help?"
Mallory turned to Kenyon. "They're happy
to take any baby. Mr. Cummings wants
to know if you need any help or support."
"I um ... yeah, probably," said Kenyon.
"I think I'd like to meet your friends."
Mallory returned to the phone. "Yeah ,
he could use more help, thanks for
offering," she said. "He also wants
to meet you two, so I'll see about
arranging a get-together later."
"Thank you," said Mr. Cummings.
"Really, I can't thank you enough."
"No problem," said Mallory. "I'll
let you know what we work out."
After ending the call, Mallory
asked Kenyon to write down
what times he was available.
"This is the best I can do now,"
Kenyon said as he made a list.
"Foster care wants to shuffle me
around again, so no telling where
I might wind up. It's a mess."
"We'll keep track of you and
make sure you can connect
with your new support people,"
Prismae promised. "We want
you to have the help you need,
whatever you decide that is."
Mallory wrote down what
she could remember of
the summer schedule for
Professor Bonneville
and Mr. Cummings.
"Here," she said as
she handed that to
Prismae. "This should
help set up a meeting."
"Thank you," said Prismae.
"You've been a huge help."
"Yeah, thanks," said Kenyon.
"We really appreciate this."
"Good, because I'm running
out of gas," said Mallory. "I
need to head home soon."
"Go ahead," Prismae said,
waving at the door. "We
don't want to wear you out."
Mallory snorted as she levered
herself out of the chair. "Hell,
I woke up worn out," she said.
"Just tell Groundhog that
you're ready to go home,"
said Prismae. "He'll call
a teleporter to take you."
"Hope that's as good as
the last one," Mallory said.
Groundhog was happy
to get her a lift, and indeed,
this teleporter was just as
silk-smooth as the first.
SPOON might be a pain
in her ass at times, but they
did some stuff really well.
Mallory trudged up the steps
to her house, opened the door,
and then waved off the teleporter
hovering anxiously on the sidewalk.
"Mallory!" "You're home!" "We got
your note." "Hey, what happened?"
A babble of voices surrounded her
as her housemates rushed over.
"Everybody leave me alone,"
Mallory grumbled. "I’ve had
a busy day being pregnant and
I have to do it again tomorrow."
"What should we do now?"
Maisie whispered warily.
"I vote that we stand back
and throw chocolate from
a safe distance," said Walden.
"I've got this," Heron said firmly.
He shooed them away, and then
nudged Mallory toward the kitchen.
He put out a plate of whole-wheat toast,
hummus, yogurt, fresh fruits, and berries.
"Eat something," he suggested. "That
should restore your energy a bit. I'll
be in the living room if you need me."
As Mallory watched him leave
the kitchen, suddenly she realized
something else she loved about him:
he knew when to leave her alone.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character, location, and content notes appear separately.
WARNING: This poem contains intense and controversial topics that may disturb some readers. It includes asking a favor from someone who didn't volunteer, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant teenage boys, recent molestation by an adult woman with superpowers, inadequate sex education, jumbled feelings, choice paralysis, discussion of abortion, gay couple wanting to become parents, foster care, and other challenges. If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward.
"So Much Gray Area"
[Friday, July 18, 2014]
Mallory was washing dishes
when her vidwatch went off.
She grabbed a towel, dried
her hands, then checked
the number on the screen.
"Why the hell is SPOON
calling me?" she demanded.
"I'm not signed up for anything."
They might be goody-two-shoes,
but they did have some good classes.
"We have a ... situation," said Groundhog.
"I'm hoping you might be willing to share
your experiences with soup pregnancy."
Mallory wanted to refuse, but then
she thought about how Damask
had taken her in when she had
nowhere else to turn, and how
it would've been so much better
to talk with someone other than
her own nemesis about this.
"What kind of time are you
talking about?" she asked.
"Just an hour or few, it's
up to you," said Groundhog.
"I can send you a teleporter."
"Fine, but you better make it
someone who does not mind
being barfed on," Mallory warned.
"That's a credible threat nowadays."
"I'll send you someone rated for
medical transport, of course,"
said Groundhog. "That will
guarantee a smooth ride."
"I'll believe it when I see it,"
Mallory said, then went
to leave a note about it
so her housemates would
know where she had gone.
To her surprise, the ride
was exactly as smooth
as Groundhog promised.
The teleporter landed neatly
on the teleport pad just outside
the Onion City SPOON base,
then held the door for her.
Mallory found Groundhog
behind the reception desk in
the comfortable waiting room.
"Okay, I'm here," she said.
"Now where do you want me?"
"Go down the consultation wing
to the Schefflera Room for
small group counseling,"
said Groundhog. "We
really appreciate you
agreeing to help today."
"Soup pregnancies need
all the support we can get,"
said Mallory. "I figure if
nothing else, maybe this
will be good for networking."
"That's the spirit," he said.
"Holler if you need anything."
The Schefflera Room was
about half again the size of
the little shoebox rooms used
for single or couples counseling.
It had a couch, several chairs,
two cubical storage ottomans
that probably held fidgets or
other therapeutic materials,
end tables, and a rolltop desk.
A narrow bookcase filled with
self-help and soup titles stood in
one corner, and a tall houseplant
spread itself in front of the window.
It had a cozy, homey feel that
helped Mallory relax a little.
A woman with long dark hair
and vivid rainbow eyes wore
the navy blue uniform that had
the SPOON logo embroidered
in silver on the chest pocket.
Three boys -- and they were
very clearly boys, not men yet --
huddled together on the couch.
All of them were visibly pregnant.
Okay, Mallory had not expected
that, and it would've been nice
if Groundhog had warned her
about that aspect of the issue.
For a moment, she just froze --
she wasn't a counselor and
had no clue what to say.
Then she thought about
what she wished someone
would say to her, and she knew.
"I see you and you're not alone,"
Mallory said. "We'll sort this out,
and we'll get through it together."
"Thanks," said the boy on the end.
"It's slightly less awful with company."
"Hi, I'm Prismae," said the woman. "I'm
a superpower reader. I also help people
to understand their abilities and decide
what to do after they've manifested some.
Are you our voice of experience about
superpowered pregnancy issues?"
"Um, yeah, Groundhog asked
me to come talk about that. I'm ...
Mallory Brasher," she finished, since
she wasn't currently dressed as Farce.
"I'm seven months pregnant, and I'm
just starting to get a handle on this."
She took the chair nearest the door,
since Prismae had the corner chair,
a lovely leather thing with a tall back.
"Boys, would you like to introduce
yourselves?" Prismae invited.
The first one was tall and blond,
skinny except for a bulging belly.
"I'm Kenyon Wyclef," he said.
"I'm fifteen years old, and I'm
eight months pregnant. I like
skateboarding, or did -- this
is wrecking my balance."
"Oh yeah, these days
I can trip over thin air,"
Mallory grumbled. "It
really sucks to deal with
a center of gravity that
changes all of the time."
"I'm José-Luís Rodriguez,"
said the Hispanic boy. "I'm
seventeen years old, and
I'm seven months pregnant.
I like graffiti art and watching
Spanish-language movies."
"I forgot that, I like graffiti art
too," said Kenyon. "That
makes for great protest art."
"Yeah, I know," Mallory said,
smirking a little. She'd done
a bit, though her skill was more
with computers. "I've met a few
of the graffiti artists around, and
they're pretty interesting people."
Okay, most of the ones she knew
were also supervillains, but she
was pretty sure that the nary ones
would be similar in personality.
The last boy was black, and
he scrunched in on himself.
"I'm Latroy Pickens," he said.
"I'm sixteen years old, and I'm
six months pregnant. I like
blues music and soul food."
"Mmm, sassy greens, with
vinegar and pepper flakes,"
Mallory said. Simon had
maybe gotten her hooked.
Interestingly, while the baby
sometimes tossed everything
just for the hell of it, spicy food
that gave other pregnant ladies
heartburn seemed to stay put
more often than not for her.
"So to give you some backstory
that everyone has already agreed
is relevant, a high school gym teacher
named Kendra Cogar has molested
several students, of whom at least
these three have gotten pregnant,"
said Prismae. "We're still ... checking
to see if any more victims turn up."
"Yikes," said Mallory. "That's awful.
Mine wasn't on purpose either, but
at least that was just me being stupid
at a party, not someone in charge of me."
"It wasn't your fault," Kenyon said softly.
"People keep telling us that, so. It wasn't
your fault either, whatever happened."
"Thanks," Mallory said. "Maybe if
I hear it often enough, eventually
I'll start to believe it. So far, it
doesn't really sound true to me.'
"Same here," said Latroy. "I'd
heard about Mrs. Cogar, so I
should have known better."
"She is an adult. You are
a teenager," said Prismae.
"Everything that happened is
entirely her fault, not yours.
You had every right to expect
safety from teachers at school."
"Yeah, whatever," said Latroy.
"It's nothing new, they all suck,
because it's a shitty high school in
a shitty South Chicago neighborhood."
"So, let's focus on something that isn't
shitty," said Mallory. "I do recommend
the SPOON sex education classes. Folks
here might be pushy about the superheroing,
but that class covers way more than what you
get in high school, especially a bad school."
Kenyon wrote it down. "Yeah, ours was
'Don't knock up the girls' and that's about it."
"Definitely a sexist approach," said Prismae.
"The SPOON class is more comprehensive.
We have diverse parenting classes too."
Kenyon and Latroy both flinched.
"If you’re looking for answers,
it helps to talk with other people,
especially if you’re feeling alone
in your decision," Mallory said to
the boys. "Pregnancy isn’t black
and white, whether you choose
to continue it or to terminate it.
There’s so much gray area."
"Yeah, sometimes I don't know
what I'm feeling," said Kenyon.
"Same here," Mallory admitted.
"It’s okay to feel sadness and loss,
or happiness and relief. You're doing
what you think best for you and your life.
Nobody can ask more than that from you."
"I wish," Latroy grumbled. "Everybody's
got an opinion about my body, but
fuck 'em. I'm the one stuck with it."
"Okay, has anyone talked about
next choices?" Mallory asked.
"Because I spent months
floundering through that."
"I was hoping that you'd
be willing to help cover it,
so I have not yet broached
that topic," said Prismae.
"Wish that I'd known to bring
my notebook," Mallory muttered .
"Well, a pregnant person typically
has three choices: parenthood,
adoption, or abortion. Of course,
superpowers can complicate that
a bit, but those are the basics."
"I want it gone," Latroy snarled.
"My momma and grandma both
got knocked up early, and it ain't
great for anyone. I don't even know
how far back that shit goes, but it ain't
goin' no further. It stops with me."
"All right, if you're sure that's what
you want, then we'll do everything
we can to support your choice if
it's possible," said Prismae.
"What do you mean, if it's
possible?" said Latroy. "They
told me it would be my choice!"
"In a very few cases, pregnancies
involving superpowers have ways of
protecting themselves," said Prismae.
"It's rare, but I don't want to make
promises I can't keep. That's why
I phrased things the way I did."
"Shit," Latroy said heavily.
"Be just my fuckin' luck."
"Only a handful of cases
have been documented,"
said Prismae. "I'll introduce
you to SPOON's medical staff,
and they'll take care of you."
"Yeah, let's get this shit done,"
said Latroy. "Bad enough having
to deal with people staring and
laying a load of guilt on me.
Sooner it's over, the better."
"Your life matters," Mallory said
to him. "Not everyone wants
the same things, so do not feel
guilty for choosing what you need.
It's your life to live, not theirs."
"Well, I'm keeping mine,"
said José-Luís. "I have
relatives who can help me
take care of the baby later."
"Are you sure?" said Mallory.
"It's a big commitment, and
sometimes people will promise
you the moon then flake on you."
"Unplanned does not mean unwanted
or unloved," said José-Luís. "It just means
life knew what I needed before I even did."
"Despite the circumstances?" said Prismae.
"That may make people uncomfortable."
José-Luís just shrugged. "It won't be
the first baby in our family who didn't
come from an act of love," he said.
"Then I commend your compassion,"
said Prismae. "We have materials
for super parents, including some
about raising superkids, just in case."
"Yeah, that's probably a good idea,"
he said, then sighed. "Do you have
any in Spanish? I'm really tired of
translating everything for my relatives,
and most of them came from Mexico."
"Of course," said Prismae. "Take
copies of the handouts in both
Spanish and English, if you like."
"Kenyon, what about you?"
Mallory asked. "You've
been pretty quiet here."
"I don't know," said Kenyon.
"I'm still thinking about it. I don't
want to get an abortion, I couldn't."
"Yeah, me neither," Mallory said.
"People told me to think about it,
that it would make the problem
go away, but I just ... couldn't."
"I don't think I'm ready to be
a father," said Kenyon. "It
scares me half to death."
"I know I'm not ready to be
a mother. My parents are
crap at it," said Mallory. "But
I'm taking classes, and now I
have people around me who
do have good parenting skills."
"I'm only fifteen," said Kenyon.
"That's ... really young for this."
"That's true," said Prismae. "It
raises the risk of complications,
even with superpowers, and that
includes postpartum problems
with parenting, not just childbirth."
"I can't just ..." Kenyon hugged
himself. "I can't. I have to do this."
"Okay, that's your first choice,"
said Mallory. "Then think about
what you might want to do next."
"That's the hard part," said Kenyon.
"I keep trying, but I have trouble
holding it all in my head. I used
to think, if I tried hard enough,
then I could get a decent job
and get out of South Chicago.
Now, I don't know, it seems
like my priorities are shifting."
"Pregnancy changes you
as a person," Mallory said.
"It is this amazing journey
that shifts your focus and
pushes you to re-evaluate
your life and priorities. It
changed me, even before
I decided to keep my baby."
"How did you ... get there?"
Kenyon said. "Deciding?"
"A friend gave me a piece of
very good advice," said Mallory.
"He suggested that I take time
to imagine myself making each
of the choices I was considering.
Live a week or two as if that was
going to be my path. It helped."
"Yeah, that seems like a good idea,"
said Kenyon. "I don't know where
to start with the adoption path, though.
If I did, I'd probably consider it more."
"We can help with that," said Prismae.
"SPOON is involved with adoption
because so many superkids are
given up, abandoned, or abused."
"That's just it," Kenyon groaned.
"I can't abandon my baby! I need
to know it'll go to a good family."
"I might be able to help with
that part," Mallory said slowly.
"When I was thinking about
adoption, I interviewed people
who helped me work through it."
"I think I'd like that," said Kenyon.
"I know I need more information."
"How do you feel about gays?"
Mallory asked, leaning forward.
"They're okay, I guess. They're
just people like anyone else,"
said Kenyon. "Why do you ask?"
"Because the couple I talked with
are gays who work at my college,
Professor Nigel Bonneville and
Theodore Cummings," she said.
"They'd make great parents."
"Would you introduce me?"
Kenyon asked. "Wait, would
they even be interested in
adopting a baby like this?"
"I'd be happy to introduce you,"
said Mallory. "I'm sure they'd
be interested -- they have been
sitting outside the women's clinic
with a sign that they want to be
parents. They would have loved
to take mine. But I could ask."
"Yeah, I'd rather they have
some warning," said Kenyon.
Mallory pulled out her phone
and dialed Mr. Cummings' number,
adding the This Is Important code.
"Oh hey, Mallory, are you all right?"
Mr. Cummins said, sounding anxious.
"I'm great, thanks," she said. "I've
got an opportunity for you to talk with
a teen parent about pregnancy choices.
He wants to know if you're okay with
a baby who might have superpowers."
"Tell him the rest of it," Kenyon said.
"He also wants you to know that he
was molested by his hyena gym teacher,"
Mallory added. "Does it make a difference?"
"No, we will welcome with love whatever child
may come into our lives," said Mr. Cummings.
"Does the father need legal or social help?"
Mallory turned to Kenyon. "They're happy
to take any baby. Mr. Cummings wants
to know if you need any help or support."
"I um ... yeah, probably," said Kenyon.
"I think I'd like to meet your friends."
Mallory returned to the phone. "Yeah ,
he could use more help, thanks for
offering," she said. "He also wants
to meet you two, so I'll see about
arranging a get-together later."
"Thank you," said Mr. Cummings.
"Really, I can't thank you enough."
"No problem," said Mallory. "I'll
let you know what we work out."
After ending the call, Mallory
asked Kenyon to write down
what times he was available.
"This is the best I can do now,"
Kenyon said as he made a list.
"Foster care wants to shuffle me
around again, so no telling where
I might wind up. It's a mess."
"We'll keep track of you and
make sure you can connect
with your new support people,"
Prismae promised. "We want
you to have the help you need,
whatever you decide that is."
Mallory wrote down what
she could remember of
the summer schedule for
Professor Bonneville
and Mr. Cummings.
"Here," she said as
she handed that to
Prismae. "This should
help set up a meeting."
"Thank you," said Prismae.
"You've been a huge help."
"Yeah, thanks," said Kenyon.
"We really appreciate this."
"Good, because I'm running
out of gas," said Mallory. "I
need to head home soon."
"Go ahead," Prismae said,
waving at the door. "We
don't want to wear you out."
Mallory snorted as she levered
herself out of the chair. "Hell,
I woke up worn out," she said.
"Just tell Groundhog that
you're ready to go home,"
said Prismae. "He'll call
a teleporter to take you."
"Hope that's as good as
the last one," Mallory said.
Groundhog was happy
to get her a lift, and indeed,
this teleporter was just as
silk-smooth as the first.
SPOON might be a pain
in her ass at times, but they
did some stuff really well.
Mallory trudged up the steps
to her house, opened the door,
and then waved off the teleporter
hovering anxiously on the sidewalk.
"Mallory!" "You're home!" "We got
your note." "Hey, what happened?"
A babble of voices surrounded her
as her housemates rushed over.
"Everybody leave me alone,"
Mallory grumbled. "I’ve had
a busy day being pregnant and
I have to do it again tomorrow."
"What should we do now?"
Maisie whispered warily.
"I vote that we stand back
and throw chocolate from
a safe distance," said Walden.
"I've got this," Heron said firmly.
He shooed them away, and then
nudged Mallory toward the kitchen.
He put out a plate of whole-wheat toast,
hummus, yogurt, fresh fruits, and berries.
"Eat something," he suggested. "That
should restore your energy a bit. I'll
be in the living room if you need me."
As Mallory watched him leave
the kitchen, suddenly she realized
something else she loved about him:
he knew when to leave her alone.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character, location, and content notes appear separately.