writing from
Scars Publications

Audio/Video chapbooks cc&d magazine Down in the Dirt magazine books

 

This writing was accepted for publication in the
108 page perfect-bound ISSN#/ISBN# issue/book

Aesthetic
cc&d, v296 (the Apr. 2020 issue)

Order the 6"x9" paperback book: order ISBN# book
Aesthetic

Order this writing
in the issue book

Aiming at Immortality
the cc&d Feb.-April 2020
magazine issues collection book
Aiming at Immortality cc&d collectoin book get the 322 page
Feb.-April 2020
cc&d magazine
6" x 9" ISBN#
paperback book:

order ISBN# book

Order this writing in the book
2020 in a Flash
the 2020 flash fiction & art
collection anthology
2020 in a Flash (2020 flash fiction and art book) get the 296 page flash fiction
& artwork & photography
collection anthology
as a 6" x 9" ISBN#
paperback book:

order ISBN# book

Plan C

Lisa Short

    On January 22, 1973, the United States Supreme Court ruled in Roe v. Wade that unduly restrictive state regulation of abortion was unconstitutional; the court held that state laws criminalizing abortion in most instances violated a woman’s constitutional right of privacy, which it found to be implicit in the liberty guarantee of the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment.

    On October 28, 2020, the Supreme Court ruled in Preterm-Cleveland v. Yost that women do not have a fundamental right to abortion and therefore cannot be guaranteed access to the procedure under the Fourteenth Amendment’s due process clause, overturning Roe v. Wade. The regulation of abortion immediately reverted to all fifty individual states’ legislatures.

    Lamar, Missouri
    May 28, 2022


    A car horn blared, shattering the dusty stillness of the motel parking lot; Jessica started, dropping the placards she’d been pulling out of the SUV’s cargo area into the dirt. As she looked up, the horn sounded again, a long hard blast. Her body tensed at the sight of the white Crown Victoria with Barton County Sheriff emblazoned on the side. She glanced back at the motel’s front office just in time to see the shutter flick down over the window; the corners of her mouth quirked up sardonically.
    The man climbing out of the Crown Vic had the neck and arms of a bodybuilder, though the way his shirt fit under his belt suggested that his bodybuilding days had ended a while back. His eyes were icy pale and if looks could kill, she’d be lying in the dirt next to her placards. She spared a glance at his nameplate and felt some of the tension drain out of her—he was the right man, at least, even if this wasn’t the right time or place. She could still make this work.
    As he stopped in front of her, Jessica said brightly, “Is there a problem, Sheriff?” She folded her arms under her breasts and his stare flickered briefly down, making her wish she hadn’t.
     “I want to know what you’re doing in my county,” he said flatly. “In my state.” He looked pointedly at the SUV’s Maryland tags.
    Jessica took a deep breath. “Just passing through—”
    “Amanda Bartlett says you told her you’re spreading the word.”
    Well, now she knew the motel clerk’s name. “She must have misunderstood something I said. Really, I’m driving straight through to Nevada—”
    “Figures.” He stared at her in disgust so obvious that Jessica knew he wanted her to see it. “What have you got in the back of the SUV?”
    “Uh—”
    “Step aside.” She jumped back as he brushed past her.
    He stared for a long moment at the piles of boxes and papers, then ripped the top of the first box open and glanced at her over his shoulder. Jessica looked meekly away. Satisfied, he continued his rampage through the contents of the SUV’s cargo space. A few minutes later, he stiffened up like a board; Jessica barely had time to wonder what he’d found when he wheeled back around, a fistful of glossy paper clutched in one hand.
    “What the hell is this?”
    “Informational pamphlets,” said Jessica, in a small voice.
    “Bullshit! These are instructions!” He spat out the word like it was poison. “Were you planning on handing these out here?”
    “No, no, of course not! They’re for a symposium in Nevada, like I said—”
    “This shit’s already legal in Nevada.” His eyes narrowed on her face. “Instructions aren’t much use without the drugs, are they? I’m impounding all this.”
    “What? You can’t!” Jessica cried, clenching her fists. “There aren’t any drugs! I—”
    She let out a shriek as the sheriff grabbed her shoulder with his free hand, his fingers biting down to the bone. “Or I could arrest you right now and you could spend the night in jail while we document the contents,” he said through his teeth. The pain was excruciating; Jessica’s eyes flooded with tears and it was all she could do to keep from wrenching away. He gave her shoulder a hard shake. “You want to swing at me with those fists?”
    “No sir!” Jessica sobbed. “Please, take it all, I don’t care!”
    He let go of her so abruptly she staggered and nearly fell. He was staring at her breasts again—always remember it could be worse, Jessica told herself coldly, count your blessings when it isn’t!—she deliberately cringed away as his stare returned to her face.
    She probably looked like a mess; his gaze seemed to soften a little. “Get in the back of the car and wait for me.” He jerked his head at the Crown Vic.
    “Can I get my purse?” she asked timidly. “It’s in my room.”
    “Hurry up.”
    Jessica jogged back to her door—it wasn’t like he had to worry about her sneaking out the back; there was no back, and the front door led directly out to the parking lot. She slipped inside, then shot the bolt on the door and dug her cell phone out of her back pocket, praying that Liane was able to answer.
    She was. “What’s up, girlie?” Liane said cheerily.
    “Real quick—Li, I’m about to be taken to the county sheriff’s office—”
    “Say what? Already? What the hell happened?”
    Jessica took a deep breath. “The plan didn’t quite go as planned, so to speak—”
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah, I’m fine.” Jessica gingerly probed her shoulder. “Mostly fine. We just have to move the schedule up a bit. Are you at the house yet?”
    “About a mile away.”
    “Well, hurry—her husband’s busy now, not six hours from now. I’m assuming this’ll keep him occupied for at least as long as my rally attempt in town would have, so get started with her as soon as you get inside.”
    “Yeah, okay...” A slightly breathless pause; Liane had clearly picked up her pace. “Jess? Is he like she said?”
    “Oh, yeah. Poor thing.”
    They said their goodbyes quickly; Jessica hit the Eraser app on her phone and shoved it into her purse, then cast a quick look around. There was nothing else in the room she’d need to come back for. Her gaze caught on a modest stack of pamphlets, identical to the ones that had so enraged the sheriff—Do You Reside in One of the Forty No-Choice States? Plan C: Safe, Private Options for an In-Home Abortion. “Poor thing,” she muttered again, then hurried out the door.



Scars Publications


Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.




Problems with this page? Then deal with it...