Quietly Calling Jane

My head bounced back forcing me to open my eyes. I heard the hum of the engine and felt the pain from deep within take hold. I squinted to see bright lights glowing back and forth in the darkness. My hands moved to guide me as I tried to stand and understand my surroundings. A whistle blew and the movement of the car sped up pushing me back into red cushioned seat. At that moment I felt nauseated, and my head hurt which was nothing new in the last few weeks ever since I found out about “my condition.”

I tucked my head back and held my stomach, “I have no idea how I got here or where I am going,” was my thought “in more ways than one.” The darkness with lights flashing before me did not help when trying to figure out my circumstances. I could tell I was on a train and saw the Route P glow when one of the white bolts flashed on it. “Of course, I am on the P train!” The irony put a smile on my face which felt new since it had been a while that I felt anything other than anxiety.

I did know I was with a friend yesterday who said she would get me some support. I entrusted to her as I was not ready to do this. I told her that I was scared and then everything went dark. No recollection how I got here, trying to find help in a place I did not know. I closed my eyes briefly just to see if I could try to remember when a loud voice which sounded like a conductor came over the speaker “1693!”

“1693 that’s a weird name for a stop! They name the stops by numbers?” I asked into the open air looking around to at the empty train car. At that moment I sensed we were under a tunnel and again everything went completely dark. When we came out of the tunnel a bolt of light flashed in front of me and that’s when I saw her. This woman who looked like something out of “The Handmaid’s Tale” sat right in front of me staring at me.

I screamed and pulled my legs up close to my chest as she reached for me. Her eyes were bulging, and her skin was discolored to purplish hue. There was a red gash around her neck. It looked like she wanted to speak, as her lips moved. A man’s voice came from the background again on the speaker.

“This is Elizabeth Emerson; she was hung in Boston in 1693 for crime of infanticide of her twin sons born out of wedlock. She had stated that they were born stillborn. She already had a daughter out of wedlock, and no one believed her as she was already a sinner!” The speaker shouted. Women were beaten and shunned for the sin of adultery. If they had a stillborn birth, they could also face discipline. Elizabeth tried to hide her pregnancy and then the birth. She was a sinner according to the law! Women did not have any say about what happened to their bodies. There were no options, and the church was the law!”

“Okay I screamed why are you showing me her, please I’m scared already!” I screamed “Jesus Christ I live in 2022! Please!”

Then darkness.

The speaker came back on “1840!” The car went dark again through another tunnel. As we came out another light flashed as “The Handmaid’s Tale” woman was gone but another woman this time in Victorian style dress sat in front of me. She had in hand a yellow concoction in a small jar

“This medicine will take care of your troubles!” She attempted to shove the potion in front of me. “It won’t cost you much!”

“No thank you,” I tried to push the jar away, but she kept coming closer.

The male voice on the speaker again interrupted, “This is Madame Restell, who ran a practice in New York during the Victorian era. She was not a doctor, nor did she have a medical license. She would administer her services to women seeking help, but only at a substantial cost. She also sold potions or pills that were worthless and dangerous. Although women had choices for services then as support was legal, they were often preyed upon, and many ended up sick or dying from their treatment. This particular potion was made with turpentine as one of its ingredients. "

“Oh My God!” I yelled, “Why are you showing me this. I am already scared to death and trying to make a very difficult decision!”

The speaker came back on “1970!” As once again darkness surrounded me.

I closed my eyes as tears started to stream. “Why is this happening to me? Please I just need someone to care! Help, not a history lesson!”

The light revealed a glow of young woman’s face not too much older than me. She was dressed in a poncho and a halter top. Her hoop earrings glowed in light. She reached for my hand “It is okay, we will get you some help.

“Thank you, I’m scared, I can’t do this,” I started to explain.

She gently touched my hand and placed a piece of paper with a number on it. She put her finger up to her lips in a motion for me to stay quiet. “It is okay it doesn’t matter why. It is your body and your right! Call and ask for Jane.”

The male speaker who I was starting to resent came back on, “From the 1969 until 1973 The Janes were a group of women who ran an underground program for girls and women to get them abortion services in Illinois. They were arrested and then freed when abortion became legal in 1973.”

I looked again at Jane as she was the first kind face who showed me understanding.

Then darkness.

The speaker came back on “1973-2021!” And another tunnel. When the light flashed back on there were many women and girls. All at once they started to say their stories.

“I had an abortion as I was raped at age 13!” a middle-aged woman yelled.

Another girl proclaimed, “I am 17 years old I did not want go through the pregnancy as it scared me, I could not do it!”

Another woman “I had an ectopic pregnancy and could not continue!”

Still others, “I could not afford another child or even to be pregnant.”

“There were many abnormalities with the pregnancy and my doctor said it would not be safe to continue.”

“I was alone and trying to stop abusing drugs. I could not continue with the pregnancy.”

The speaker came on again, “In 1973 Roe vs Wade was passed by the Supreme Court as a landmark decision giving women the right to access an abortion.

I looked at all of them and felt some relief that I was not alone in not wanting to continue with this pregnancy.

Then darkness.

I looked around and did not understand. “Wait he said 1973-2021, the last time! What about 2022?”

The speaker came on again “2022!”

I braced myself as we went through the tunnel and closed my eyes. I opened and looked up only to scream as the woman from looked like “The Handmaid’s Tale” and the Victorian fake doctor who stood moving close to me. They moved closer and I continued to cry out. I looked out the window and saw all the women from 1973-2021 standing on side waving at me.

The speaker came on, “On June 24th, 2022, The Supreme Court Overturned Roe vs Wade and many states immediately started to severely restrict access to abortion. A woman’s right to make decisions for her own body was no longer considered.”

“No!” I screamed as I watched the women from the 1600's and 1800’s come closer. “No please, I need help!”

I then looked out the window again and saw her, it was Jane.

“Jane, please, help me!” I yelled, but I knew she could not.

I whispered, “Jane!” as the train rode past and I watched her cry.