Steriles

3 - "Steriles"

As soon as I got home, I started making a Change.org petition. I wasn't going to just fight for myself. I wanted everyone to have the right to choose whether or not they give birth, not just Fertiles, and not just me. I didn't want to be the exception.
Obviously, I got Fernanda to sign it, even though she thought I was being ridiculous. Then I posted it on all of my social media platforms. Within a day, I had 1000 signatures and 4 other "Steriles" in my DMs telling me they had been forced to terminate. One somewhat older woman, born well before the law passed, told me she had been forced to terminate because she was over 35. The doctors' excuse was that her fetus was more likely to have chromosomal abnormalities. She said she didn't care, but they told her we're running out of room in hospitals and they didn't want to waste time and space on a baby that wouldn't be an asset to our country.
Within a week, someone online pointed out that there was no way this would change anything unless there was an actual protest. I ignored the comment at first, pretending it wasn't true, but Fernanda agreed.
"We need to do something," she said, looking over my shoulder at the post. "The government doesn't care about petitions. Hell, it doesn't even care about votes."
I rested my head on her shoulder and shut the screen of my wristband off. "You're right. But what can we do?" She played with my hair and sympathetically told me that she didn't know.
Two days later, I got a message:
Hey so I commented on your post and a bunch of ppl messaged me, asking abt a protest. What do you think abt a demonstration? It says you're in Colorado, ik a couple of ppl who live there
I showed Fernanda the message. "Sounds like a good idea," she said, "but we'd need more than 'a couple of people.'"
"How do we arrange something like this?" I asked. "I've been told it's a bad idea to do it on social media because cops and what have you can see, but they didn't give an alternative."
"I have an idea," she told me with that same emerald fire in her eyes. She was definitely going to kill Charlie Bezos. Or maybe a Congress member. Definitely someone.
~~~☆~~~
"Where are we?" I asked as Fernanda led me off the bus. She said nothing and kept walking with my hand in hers, turning into a somewhat dark alley. "Hun, you know I'm too weak to protect you, right?"
I jumped as I noticed another person leaning against the wall of one of the buildings. Fernanda wasn't startled--in fact, she walked right towards them. "We need contact info for all of the Steriles within a 5 mile radius," she told the shadow.
The person stood up fully and walked toward us. "Why? If this is a big advertising scheme, I'm not helping you with that."
She seemed offended at their implication. "Of course not. This is my SO, Jody. He's a 'Sterile.'" She signalled air quotes with her free hand. "Xe's also pregnant."
Their eyes widened. "So, you want to let them know to use condoms or what?"
"Well, that too," she said, giving me a somewhat judgemental look. "But I want them for a protest. The government is mandating abortions for 'Steriles' who aren't actually sterile. Can you either get the word out and give them my mail-name--preferably without letting any cops or snitches know ahead of time--or get me the names of as many Steriles as you can?"
They lit up their band and quickly glanced at it. "Usually, that'd be $20 per person, but since this is for a protest, I guess it'll just be, like... $75 total." Fernanda opened her wristband and put in the amount, then tapped it to theirs. "Alright. Hopefully you'll be getting a bunch of mail within the next week."
"Thanks," she said. "Do you want to join us?"
They shook their head. "Nah, man, I have kids!"
~~~☆~~~
We decided to make the protest at least two weeks later so we had enough time to set it up and invite people with enough time in advance. The problem was that I was only given a week to get the abortion. So now what we had to do was either blatantly lie to the local government or find a way to take it to court. I decided to call my parents for the first time in at least two years.
"Honey, it's our baby girl! She's finally called us!" And that's why.

Once my dad picked up the phone, I started fidgeting and looked at the phone. "Mom, Dad, I have a problem."

"What is it, honey?" my mom asked, concerned. "Do you need money? You know we're not well off, either." She looked down, presumably at her virtual bank pulled up on her wristband, and winced. "Even less than I thought."

"No, it's not that." I looked into the wall where each of my parents' faces was displayed on one side of our 20-inch landline. It was obvious that they had answered my call on individual cell phones, which they really didn't need since businesses now sent mail and messages to our wristbands. Maybe they would have more money if they spent it differently--I knew for a fact that they made way more than Fernanda and I did. "I'm pregnant."

My dad's face contorted in confusion, and my mom's lit up with excitement. "Sweetie, that's wonderful! What's the problem, though? If you can't keep it for personal reasons, abortions are free, and if you want to keep it, I'm sure we can find some money to help you out."

"Wait," my dad interjected. "Aren't you sterile?"

"That's the problem," I said after a nod. "I was supposed to be sterile, so the county has ordered me to get an abortion and re-sterilized. This could be my only chance to have a baby, and they're taking it away from me."

My dad looked sympathetic, but said nothing. My mom went into white suburban mom mode. "Oh, I won't have that," she growled. "Ooh, I'll start a petition!"

"I already did that." I let out a brief chuckle, despite the seriousness of the conversation. "I can message it to you. But the county's going to be checking up on me in a week. What should I do in the meantime, at least to stall? I need advice."

"Go to the courthouse. You don't need a paid lawyer to appeal, you probably don't need a lawyer at all. Do you want me to come with you?"

I tried not to visibly wince at the idea of my mom calling me her baby girl to a judge. "No thanks, I'll take Fernanda."