But what were the boundaries of his love, and where did love end and responsibility begin, and why should responsibility be forced upon him, he was too young for responsibility, he wanted to go to sleep someplace and wake up when it was all over, he wanted to forget he was a part of it, forget all of it, but how could he leave her, leave her in a ditch, so wide, so wide, would they ever cross it, should he marry her?
He was face to face with responsibility, and responsibility would not budge an inch.
The failure of the pills was inevitable. When it came, even though he expected it, he was disappointed. Helen was frantic. What do we do now? she asked. And he gave his ineffectual answers.
They went bowling, and they went horseback riding, and they prayed for snow so that they could ski or sleigh, but no snow came. It was a dry, bitter-cold November, and snow was for lovers, and they had ceased being lovers and become only plotters. They took long walks, and they went swimming at the St. George, but at the end of November, Helen was still pregnant.
They had another long talk, this time in Prospect Park, sitting on a bench, huddled against the cold November wind.
Helen puffed incessantly on her cigarette. Her face was worried. She had gained a little weight in the past month, and she had already begun to experience morning sickness. There were dark circles under her eyes, and the eyes above those circles were dull and lusterless.
“Everybody can tell,” she said. “They just look at me, and they can tell.”
“No,” he answered. “You don’t show at all, Helen.”
“I know I do. Buddy, Buddy, what a mess!”
“I know.” He put his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder and sighed heavily.
“I spoke to my aunt,” she said.
“About...”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, it’s all right. She’s more than an aunt, Buddy, always has been. And I could never have gone to my mother with something like this. If she ever found out, it would kill her. I had to... had to go to my aunt, Bud, and... my aunt knows someone. She knows someone.”
He felt a sudden gladdening of his heart. He turned to look down at her. “Someone to... to help us?”
“Yes.”
The fist of responsibility loosened its grip slightly. “Who?” he asked.
“She wouldn’t tell me. But she’s going to arrange it. We’ll... we’ll need money, Bud.”
“How much?” he asked quickly.
“Three hundred,” she said.
“I’ll get it.”
“Are you sure you want me to... to do this?”
“I can’t see any other way, can you, Helen?”
She hesitated for a long time, and then she sighed. “No, I guess not.”
“You can use my apartment,” he said.
“No. My aunt’s place will be all right. She prefers it that way. This person... this person who will do it, he knows my aunt. He might not... might not go to a strange apartment.”
“I’ll be there with you, Helen,” he said, feeling a sense of lightness now that the responsibility had released its grip, feeling almost happy, feeling as if he had cheated responsibility.
“You don’t have to, Bud. I think she’d rather you didn’t. This is... illegal, you know.”
“Yes. But I’ll come.”
“No. It’s... it’s going to be a mess. I wish you wouldn’t. Just call me afterward, Bud. At my home. Just call me and let me know you’re there.”
“Are you frightened?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t be.”
“I am.”
“Don’t be, Helen.”
“Buddy...”
“What?”
“I... I wish there were another way. Buddy, when I think of this, I get cold sweat all over me. Even now, just talking about it, I’m beginning to shiver.”
“Helen, please, don’t get excited. Try to relax, try to—”
“I’m sorry, Buddy, but I am excited. I’m not looking forward to this, you know. I can’t be calm about the whole thing. Am I supposed to be calm about it? Buddy, Buddy...”
“Helen, please don’t cry.”
“I’m... I’m sorry.”
He held her close, letting her cry it out, and then he asked, “When is it going to be, Helen?”
“Next... next month.”
“Why so late?”
“He can’t do it before then.” She paused. “He’s... he’s busy.”
“I’ll have the money by then. Don’t worry.”
“I know you will. I wasn’t worrying about that.” She shook her head, and then she bit her lip, holding herself in, not wanting to cry again. He held her in his arms, protecting her from the wind.
He could not ask his parents for the money, and he didn’t know just who he could ask until he thought of Andy, who was on the road.
His wire read:
NEED THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS URGENTLY. CAN YOU SEND?
He waited all that day, and the return wire came late that night.
MONEY ON WAY. ARE YOU IN JAIL, DAD?
He never told Andy why he needed the money. He paid it back to him the next time — and the last time — he saw him. He paid so soon because of an unexpected dividend on his GI insurance, but he never told Andy why he needed the money, and Andy never asked.
He gave the money to Helen, and then they sat back to wait. They saw a lot of each other now, and he tried to comfort her whenever they were out together. He could not completely understand his new role, but he felt something like a bystander, watching the drama with no concern whatever, feeling the responsibility all gone now, and knowing it had been replaced by a tremendous feeling of relief. And with the relief came a deep anticipation, as if he were waiting for something, knowing he was waiting for the day of the abortion, and yet sensing this something else he was waiting for, wanting it to happen soon so that he could... what, what?
He told himself he didn’t know.
He told himself he was happy with the way things had worked out, and he told himself he still loved Helen, and yet he could not shake this feeling of waiting.
It happened on a December night.
He called her afterward, and she began crying on the phone, saying only, “It’s all over, all over, Bud. It’s all over.”
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, and with that word the last fingers of responsibility released their tenuous grip. He felt free. He felt free, and his freedom was a happy thing — but there was a faint shading of sadness in it. He did not question the sadness. He knew only that his brush with responsibility had been all too close, and now everything was all right, and now he could go back to being himself again, without having to worry about things, without having to take care of anyone. Why did everyone come to him to be taken care of, why, why?