And God said: ‘Let us make a human in our image, by our likeness

/[Bereshit Part 1 Genesis 1:1 - 2:7]

“Randy, something’s wrong.”

Ellen’s voice was unusually stressed.  She always sounds a little stressed to me, but her voice was cracking, and now I was starting to feel stressed.

“Doctor Lane wants me to come in.  The blood test came back.  She just did the ultrasound last week. I need you to come with me.”

Ellen is my best friend.  We were buddies in our first literature class at Emory, but I really became close with her after her mother died unexpectedly and she was totally alone.  I’d never heard anyone talk so much, so personally about themselves and a year later she told me that she didn’t think she’d still be alive if I hadn’t been there for her.

“When do you want to make an appointment?” I asked.

“I don’t want to make an appointment.  I want to go in now. Something’s wrong and I need to know what it is.  Are you free?  Are you free like right now?”

“I can take off.  I just need to finish one email, and I’ll drive down and pick you up.”

“I’m calling the doctor and then I’ll drive to your place.”

“Ellen.  Don’t drive.  Let me pick you up.”

So now here we are more than twenty years later and we’re both single and Ellen decided she wants a baby before it’s too late.  It may seem obvious to you, and I guess it seems obvious now, but I was stunned when she told me she wanted me to be the father.  I just do not want that sort of responsibility.  I know this may sound crazy, but I also felt just too close to her.  Maybe sharing responsibility would pull us apart.  But when I said “no” – her attitude towards me really changed for a while and I did think I might lose her after all.  Ever since, it’s healed, but I still always – just a little – fear losing her.  That’s how I feel driving to her place.

————

“Knock knock!”

“Randy, you’re so good to me.  Her office said we might have to wait, but she’ll see us today.”

I love coming to Ellen’s apartment.  It is so filled with life.  Somehow she finds a way to grow something in every corner.  One of her ferns is tickling my head.  When my eye catches her tropical fish tank I think back to just watching those things for an hour.  They do nothing and yet, they somehow pull you in and none of your troubles matter.  Mr. Whiskerwitz comes over to rub himself against me.  I don’t like cats, but how can you not like Mr. Whiskerwitz?  That’s when I realize – yes, the place is missing one more element.

“She’ll see you today! That’s great!”

“No that’s terrible!  I wish she had said ‘Oh, don’t worry, you can come in any time.”

Dr. Lane has the nicest receptionist.

“Hi Ellen!  Hi Randy!  You’re looking beautiful, Ellen.  And you too, Randy!  The doctor just finished with her last patient and she can see you now.”

“What’s up?” Ellen asks the doctor.  “What’s going on?”  And in that millisecond when I can see Doctor Lane stumble for words, I too start to feel that something is wrong.”

“Ellen, I’m about to talk to you about your baby.  Randy, I have great respect for you, but you’re not the father.  Ellen do you want him here now?”

And maybe for the first time, ever.  Ever.  I wish I were the father.  But I’m not.  I’m nothing.

“I want him here.”  She takes my hand and she’s going to break all of my knuckles.  And it’s okay.

Ellen gets on the exam table and the doctor puts that cold goop on her belly and smooshes it around with the ultrasound device.

“You see that little fuzz on that part of the brain, and the little line over there?  Usually it’s nothing, it’s something that’s developing a little late.  But that’s why I called for the blood test, and the genetic screening and it came back with something I have to tell you about.  The condition your child almost certainly has will probably, I want to say with great likelihood, never manifest itself at all in his entire lifetime.  It’s very important that you understand that.  But if it takes the wrong turn, it has been known to lead to violent behavior in early adulthood. It’s a possibility and you need to be aware of it…”

“Do you mean violence or anger?” I felt forced to define this more carefully.

“Anger that cannot be controlled.  If the violent predisposition does manifest itself, it can be very violent indeed. Should you decide to bring him to term.”

In a moment, the force of that rage suddenly seemed to leave the baby and possess Ellen.

“Should I decide to bring him to term?  Should I decide? I have had five miscarriages doctor!  You know that; you were here for every one of them!  This is my last chance.” 

“Ellen, I know you have been through more pain than.. than seems bearable.  Yes, I have been with you… and Randy too.  But this must be your decision.”

“This is not my decision.  This is my body’s decision.  And my body is telling me that this is wrong.  It’s been telling me that this was wrong from the very beginning.

“Lets. Just. Do it. Now.  I’m ready.”

“Ellen.  I am not going to perform an abortion now.  First of all, you need to think about this…”

“Don’t you dare take away my agency.”

“…and in any case, a second trimester abortion is not something I do without preparation, if we want it done without possibly harming the mother.  I don’t ever want to do something that might harm you, Ellen.”

“I’m ready.”

“Well, that may be so, but I’m not.  I want you to take a week.  Yes a week.  And if this is still how you feel then, call me in seven days and I promise I will be able to see you that day.”

On the drive home I searched for something to say and I came up empty.  At every stop light I hoped I could just find three words – any words – just to start to say something and that then maybe my heart would find the rest of the words to fill in a sentence.  But there were no words from me.

The words finally came from Ellen as she unlocked her door.

“This is your fault.

This is your fault.  How many times did I ask you to be the father?  Because you’d have been the perfect father, and you know you would have been the perfect father and you said no anyway.  There is no one.  No one who is smarter or more gentle, and if you were this baby’s father he would not have a single violent gene in him.  Not one.  And after the second miscarriage I asked you again and you still said no and left me to go through the mud, through the filth, to find any sperm donor who could be anything, even a psycho killer.”

“Your donor isn’t a psycho killer.”

“All I know is what’s on paper.  And that his son may be a psycho killer if I release him on the world.  And I can’t take that chance.  I will not.”

I am standing on her doorway, staring at the life – at the plants and the fish, and the damned cat who now seems frightened of me, and who also believes that this is all my fault.  Then I see none of it.  All I can see is the giant hole of what is not there and what will never be there but should be there.

There are still no words from me.  All I can do is take a step back, close the door, stand in the nothingness.

———–

I’m in the car with Ellen again.  I’m driving again. 

“Will Doctor Lane be there on time?” she asks.

“Of course she will.”

“How do you know?”

“How do I know anything?  It’s what she does.  She’s a professional.  And besides, you’re very important to her.  You may not realize that, but you’re important to a lot of people.”

“Well after all this, I don’t want anything more to go wrong.  My water broke and I don’t want to give birth in your car.”

“Trust me.  I want that even less.”

And we both start laughing uncontrollably.  All I can think is that I can’t stop laughing and that I can’t remember the last time I did.

Ellen finally catches her breath. 

“I can’t believe what I almost did.  Then we wouldn’t be here today.  We wouldn’t be laughing.  You saved me, Randy.  But did I do the right thing?  I’m going to pick my boy up and I’m going to look into his eyes and what if I see the eyes of a killer?  And I’ll know.  And it will be too late.”

“Ellen, it doesn’t matter.  We never know the future.  We never ever know.”

“I know”, she says, “because that’s who I am. And it’s my responsibility.”

We arrive at the hospital, and we make it to the delivery area.

“Well you come with me…” the admitting nurse says. 

“…and I imagine you must be the father?” she says with a friendly smirk.

“Actually I’m just a friend.”

“A very good friend.” Ellen insists.

“Well you may be a very very good friend, but I’m afraid that even very very very good friends are not permitted past this point.”

The nurse begins to escort Ellen away from me.

“I need him.” Ellen pleads, but then swinging doors close behind her and there is no appeal.

“I need him when I look into my son’s eyes!” I hear the words barely escape between the doors.

In the waiting room, among the other fathers and sisters and parents and children I feel as alone as the night I shut the door on myself.  Then finally a new nurse comes out and seems to recognize me immediately.

“Your name?”

“Randy.”

“Randy, you can come with me now.”

She takes me down the neon corridor until we come to a room, and she gently knocks on the door, waits a moment, and then escorts me in.

Ellen is there, in a bed with the back propped up, holding the baby.  She looks up and as she realizes it’s me, she smiles and the world seems to float off of her.

“He’s perfect.”

And with that, she hands me the baby and I realize that yes, he is.

The bed slowly lets Ellen drift down with a hum, and in a second she is asleep.

“She’s had a very long day” the nurse tells me as she touches my shoulder.   “Let her rest.”