Delightful Ning Back In Farangland 10 – Departure
Yes, I’ll depart her in this submission.
Just let’s check up one detail before I log into thaiair.com.
She comes back from the bathroom and puts the plastic tube on to the pantry. Five minutes later, it shows two red dots.
Yes, two red dots. Not just one red dot.
Ning is pregnant.
— Decision —
She says: “Did you never think of marriage, Pothole? No? See, I could move here forever. In the first year, we have a baby and I go to school to learn your language. I could take the baby to school with me every day.”
I say: “You know already, I never wanted a surprise baby. Maybe we *can* talk about marriage, but then the marriage must work first, and then we *can* talk about family planning. Not a baby by surprise!”
She: “I am not strong like you. Now I think you want to remove the baby. If you really want that – I don’t want it, but if you want it, what can I do.”
And yes, after having pondered marriage just one submission ago, now I cling to my traditional lifestyle that certainly only works under baby-free conditions and I have to get rid of her and of our baby. Yes, suddenly I yearn to keep up my old life: Roam the SE Asian playgrounds in winter; enjoy delightful Old Europe with imported black-haired girlfriends in summer; always only on tourist visas and for a change not starting with the letter “N”. I feel ice-cold when I tell her we will have “to remove” our offspring.
— Preparations —
I cancel lucrative job assignments to be free for the abortion business. One major part of it will be to keep moody Ning on track.
There is this voice in me that says, “Just send her back home and forget her. She’ll be locked in her third-world rathole with whatever she has in her tummy”. But I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. If there is the slightest chance that I have a baby somewhere, I will be a hostile to my emotions and ultimately also to the mother of that baby. Before Ning flies home, I want to straighten this out, so to speak. In two weeks she flies out. Hey, I want to kill our baby before that.
Ning follows reluctantly. “See, wife of my brother had baby this spring”, she says. “When baby come out, so sweet already!! How can I remove this?? We never do in my family!!”
Her protest is touching, but to no avail. I simply say nothing. I have nothing to say. I simply egoistically want to remain free and without responsibility. At least with this woman. If, for my holy independence, I have to send her through an ordeal of doctors, clinics, chemicals and baby killing – so be it.
Quickly I find out: No female doctors do abortions. So I make more appointments than necessary for the required examinations with various male doctors, just to give her some choice for the final business. I call a clinic reception and get an appointment. "Her first name Ning; her second name is one meter long – do you need it for the appointment?" – "Oh no-no-no, you just come Thursday eleven o'clock."
In hindsight, it is stupid to contact several doctors. Only much later I understand it would have been better to send her through only one procedure, and fast.
— Research 1 —
Whenever we visit a doctor together, I am the speaker. “She wants to abort”, I say, a sheer lie. “We want to marry next year”, I also say. Another lie, but it smooths things and makes minds easier. Ning just follows me in half-trance.
Ning lies on a gynacologist’s chair. Her legs are spread. Her lower body is uncovered, even though the shy lady clings to a towel she grabbed somewhere. The doctor puts a huge condom onto a long slim dildo and shoves it into my girl. He turns on the Philips ultrasound machine. Some kind of galaxy appears on the b/w screen: Ning's inner organs. "Her uterus is ok", reports the doctor and plays around more with the dildo. "Oviduct ok, too", reports the doctor. Liver and intestines are ok, too, he finds out with more dildo moves. We had never asked him for that kind of check.
"You want to marry her, right", says the doctor. "So we better check her through first – and I can tell you: Everything is ok inside her." He seems to talk about a horse. I mean, how much did you check your TGF through before taking The Plunge?
On the Philips monitor, we see the tiny black dot inside all the milky ways. Yes, says the doctor, there is a baby inside her. About end of sixth week, or start of seventh week. Alive or dead, he cannot say, we have to come back next week to see if there have been changes. In case there “is vitality”, as they say, he recommends a good clinic for abortions – his friend. If the there is “no vitality”, the black dot is dead already, then he would remove it.
“How much money do the abortion clinics ask for”, he goes? He opts to “remove the dead embryo just for the same price. That’s fair, right?”
This greedy Frankenstein even calls us at home to remind us of a second check and of his offers. Just to get rid of him, I tell him that Ning abruptly flew home.
— Delays —
"So funny”, she says: “Now, with a baby inside, I need a lot of chili and very sour food. I always thought when I have a baby from a westerner, I will not like chili any more."
Before the next doctor and check, there is a weekend. Unfortunately. That weekend it rains cats and dogs on end. I have no chance to distract Ning with a trip to the fun fair. She stands by the window for hours, watching the rains pour down. There are occasional tear tracks on her cheeks, too.
“I will not go to the doctor”, she shouts one time as I approach her. “I WILL NOT GO!”
I will beat you to the doctor, I think. But I just say nothing. I have nothing to say. And I know, at the end she will do what she has to do.
Wow, for so long the writer of pleasant, warm-fuzzy feeling stories, Pothole takes us into uncharted waters…