The Crisis Narrative
It was four in the morning in early August; seventeen year old Monica Adams was holding her niece, Abigail May, for the first time. Weighing only five pounds, Abigail was very tiny in her arms. As Monica held her, she tried to realize what was happening at that moment; I’m an aunt, she thought. She tried to grasp the feeling of being an aunt, but she couldn’t. It was all too surreal for her.
It all began December of Monica’s senior year of high school. She could remember the day almost as if it had happened yesterday. Out running errands with her mother, her cell phone rang. It was Tony, her then 18 year old brother. “Let me talk to mom,” he demanded of her. Since she was driving, she really didn’t mind giving into his command, but yelled at him not to be so rude anyways. As her mother conversed with Tony she began asking questions like “Why?”, “Who is it”, “How old is she?”, “How do you know her”. She then went on to tell him that the girl needed to go to a doctor and that they needed to tell the parents. Then, before she hung up the phone, she asked, “It’s not yours, is it?” He must have said no because she didn’t flip out.
Once off the phone, Monica asked her mother what was going on. “Oh some girl he knows got pregnant and he wanted to know what advice to give her,” she answered. “Who’s the girl”, Monica inquired. The answer: an 18 year old junior at Newville High.
Her mother had to say no more. Monica knew instantly why her brother had called and asked those questions. He wanted to know how his mother would react to something like that, so he hid it behind the old “I have a friend who has a problem” gimmick. There was no doubt that it was Dorothy, Tony’s girlfriend that was the girl who had gotten pregnant. There weren’t that many 18 year olds in the eleventh grade at Newville High. It had to be Dorothy.
Later that night, Tony called Monica’s phone again. Monica chatted with him for a bit and then asked him about the girl he knew that was pregnant. “Just some girl I know. You don’t know her,” was the answer. Sensing that he was once again lying to her, she persisted to bug him about it, first pleading with him to share his secret; she wouldn’t tell anyone who it was. When that didn’t work, she began naming names of girls her brother knew, and then, when she said Dorothy’s name he paused, said “What?”, and then “Oh, no”. There are a few ways Monica could tell if her brother was lying, one being the way he laughed when he talked or he would answer in the manner he just had.
“You didn’t,” Monica said in disbelief.
Knowing that his sister wouldn’t let it go until he told the truth, Tony caved and said, “Yeah, but don’t tell mom. We’re going to tell her mom about it first and see how bad they react to it. Please don’t tell mom, she’ll kill me.”
Monica was stunned. She knew her brother could but stupid, but wow, this topped the charts. She asked him a few more questions and then before hanging up, gave him her word...