Wonkette's THE SPLIT: Chapter Thirteen

In which Lorinda lashes out.

Lorinda hesitated before entering the hospital. The reception counter was about twenty feet behind the glass doors, and she could see three women back there answering phones and speaking to people across the counter. She glanced at the business card Emmie had given her even though she already knew what it said: Dr. Suzanne Fields, Rm. 3042. Waiting until all three receptionists were busy, she took a sharp breath and entered briskly. Once inside she saw a sign, WOMENS HEALTH THIRD FLOOR, and scooted down the corridor. An elevator door creaked open just as she arrived. She stepped in and pressed 3. 

Stepping out of the elevator onto the third floor, she was hit by the noxious aroma of vomit, ammonia, and something unidentifiable and obviously toxic that caused Lorinda to cover her mouth and hold her breath. Two eleven-year-old kids, a boy and a girl, in too-big mint-green scrubs, were desultorily pushing mops around a nasty-looking puddle in the middle of the corridor. Two small plastic signs — one reading WET FLOOR, the other reading DANGER: BIO-HAZARD — warned Lorinda not to get too close. She skirted the mess, found room 3042, and knocked. “It’s open,” said a woman’s voice from within. Lorinda opened the door and stepped into the small office. The light coming through the windows behind the desk was a dull green, but there was a lot of it and it took her eyes a couple of seconds to adjust. The desk was spotless and shiny, with nothing on it but a keypad and a big screen. Sitting there, hands on the keys, was a woman in a white lab coat. She seemed to be in her late thirties, with straight black hair and striking green eyes. She would have been considered a beauty were it not for her mouth, which was contorted into a snarly frown amplified by a slash of vivid red lipstick. Lorinda didn’t know whether to laugh or run.

“Doctor Suzanne Fields?” 

“Come in, come in,” said the woman. “Close the door, please. Have a seat.”

Lorinda did as she was told. 

“Now, what’s your name?” the woman asked.

“I’m Lorinda. Lorinda Moon.”

The keyboard went tic-tic-tic.

“And where are you from, Lorinda Moon?”

“I’m from Perfecton, Texas. I just drove here….”

More tic-tic-tic. 

“Father Robert, mother Rita, brother Ezekial,” the woman read from her monitor. “Nice family.” She didn’t seem to mean it. “Your brother likes his manna, doesn’t he?”

“Doctor Fields, I …”

“I’m Doctor Janelle Stark. Doctor Fields no longer works here. I’ve taken her place. Now, what can I do for you, Lorinda Moon? I assume you’re looking for an abortion.”

Lorinda was shocked to hear that word come out of the mouth of someone she’d just met. “I, well, I mean …” she stuttered.

Tic-tic-tic.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” asked the woman behind the desk.

“Lucky?”

“Who did you fuck, Lorinda?” The woman looked sly. “Oh. Sorry. That was vulgar. I should have said, whom did you fuck?”

“What is this?” demanded Lorinda, springing up from her chair.

“Sit down, Lorinda.”

Lorinda reluctantly complied.

“Now, what’s the man’s name?”

“Why are you asking me that? I don’t have to answer that question.”

“Look, Lorinda, here’s how it works.” The woman leaned back in her chair and took a deep, satisfied breath. She seemed to be enjoying this. “You’re not getting an abortion. It’s against the law, sweetie! You’re going to the beautiful new Austin Breeding Center. ABC! You’ll be there for nine months, give or take. We’ll feed you great food, you’ll have fun, and you’ll make a lot of friends.“

“What—?”

“Oh, it’s true. But it makes sense. You gals go through this wonderful experience together. I mean, the place has only been up and running for about three years, but we’re already hearing that the moms that come out of there remain really close.” 

“So —”

“And best of all, you’ll have that baby! We have excellent doctors.” She shrugged. “Or so they tell me.”

“They tell you?” Lorinda groped to understand. “Are you even a doctor?” 

“You really shouldn’t be talking to me like that,” said Janelle Stark calmly. “As I said, you’ll have your baby, you’ll marry the father, and you’ll have a nice family —”

“What happened to Dr. Fields?”

“That’s really none of your business.”

“It is my business! I have a referral to her!”

Janelle Stark seemed to find this interesting. She leaned forward and held her hands poised over the keyboard. “Really? From whom?”

“Where is Dr. Fields!?”

“I’m afraid that’s something you don’t need to know.”

Lorinda clamped her mouth shut and looked away. This was really happening. It didn’t take much insight to realize that this woman represented the same interests as whoever had sabotaged her condom. Lorinda had to make a decision, and she made it. Springing to her feet again, she said, “I’m not having a baby, and I’m not marrying some asshole.”

Unfazed, sighing with patience, Stark stood up and leaned forward. “You don’t have a choice, Lorinda. You have no power here. I have all the authority. You have nothing. You do what we tell you to do. Now give me your firearm.”

 Lorinda was panting. Adrenaline was kicking in. She shoved open her purse, thrust her hand inside, and came up with the gun. She looked at it for a second as though unsure what it was. Stark sniggered. “Aww, isn’t that cute. Pink! When you get out of ABC, you’ll need a bigger gun.” She leaned further over the desk and held out her hand, palm up.

Heart pounding, feeling herself start to sweat, Lorinda slowly pointed the gun at Stark.

“Moon! Don’t do anything stupid. Give me your goddamned gun.”

 Lorinda shouted, “No!” and shut her eyes. At the last second she pointed it at the ceiling and pulled the trigger.

Its weak little click made Janelle Stark laugh. “Listen to me, Moon. I have total control over your life at the birthing center. I can put you in the Optimum Wing, with other nice girls. Or I can put you in the High-Security Wing, with nasty women and even nastier guards. Or I can throw you into Solitary. It’s up to you.” Stark leaned closer to Lorinda and again held out her palm. “Now fork it over, you stupid bitch.”

Lorinda started to surrender the gun, hesitated, and then, half deliberately and half on sheer blind, terrified impulse, with a mighty backhand swipe smashed the gun, butt-end first, into Janelle Stark’s face. The older woman tumbled backward over her chair. Her head hit the window. Lorinda heard but didn’t see it: She was already out the door and sprinting past the young janitors and toward the elevators

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PREVIOUSLY in THE SPLIT!

Chapter One. In which we meet our heroine and her dainty little gun.

Chapter Two. In which Lorinda demonstrates her bartending virtuosity.

Chapter Three. In which our heroine receives a promotion and prepares to celebrate.

Chapter Four. In which our heroine proves herself an immoral citizen of the CCSA.

Chapter Five. In which our heroine goes to church.

Chapter Six. In which Lorinda contemplates her future, ignores Pastor Doug, and gets something unexpected from Emmie.

Chapter Seven. In which Lorinda learns something that threatens her big dream.

Chapter Eight. In which our heroine freaks out.

Chapter Nine. In which our heroine says the forbidden word as an unwelcome visitor arrives.

Chapter Ten. In which two unpleasant men perturb our heroine.

Chapter Eleven. In which our heroine seems to have found a solution to her problem.

Chapter Twelve. In which that black truck follows our heroine all the way to Austin.

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