Free Niagara Motel by Ashley Little

knock.”
    â€œWho’s there?” Meredith spit a piece of her fingernail onto the floor.
    â€œNana.”
    â€œNana who?”
    â€œNana your business.”
    She smiled for a millisecond then turned back to the form.
    â€œMeredith?” the nurse called.
    Meredith looked at me and bit her bottom lip.
    â€œBreak a leg,” I said.
    She took a deep breath and followed the nurse down the white hallway.

    She came out about twenty minutes later and we went out into the street. She walked fast, too fast, and I had to jog along beside her to keep up. She didn’t say anything so I didn’t either. We sat down on a concrete barrier beside the Horseshoe Falls. It was louder than a hundred million jackhammers all going at once. A watery rainbow shimmered in the mist below.
    â€œSo?” I said.
    â€œThey didn’t do it.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œShe said it was too late for her to do it.” Meredith put her face in her hands.
    â€œOh.”
    â€œI waited too long.”
    â€œSo, what are you—”
    â€œShe gave me the number of a doctor in Toronto who would maybe still do it. But it costs a shitload. And, it would … it would feel it, I guess,” Meredith shrugged. “Maybe.”
    â€œDid you see it?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œWhat was it like?”
    â€œLike staring into the sun.”
    â€œWow.”
    I stole a look at her belly. There was a bulge there, but you couldn’t really tell if it was a baby or fat. We watched two seagulls swoop and dive beside the waterfall, playing in the mist. A guy rode by us on a BMX. Two old ladies hobbled past us, both of them with silver canes. A man and lady walked past us, and the man had a kangaroo pouch strapped to him with a baby inside. I looked at Meredith. Her bottom lip was bleeding from biting it so hard. She rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know what to do,” she said.
    â€œWell, if this were a Choose Your Own Adventure book, which it isn’t, obviously, because it’s your life, but if it were, you would have three options. One, have the baby and keep it. Two, have the baby and give it up for adoption. Or three, have an abortion. But whichever one you pick, you’ll have to go to that next page no matter what. You can’t cheat and turn back and choose a different one.”
    â€œThere’s a fourth option.”
    â€œThere is? What?”
    â€œTake a flying leap off the falls.”
    â€œThat’s not a good option,” I said.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œAt least stuff yourself into a barrel first.”
    She looked at me for a second, then burst out laughing.
    â€œAnd if you wait until you’re really pregnant then you can have, like, a built-in airbag in there with you.”
    We laughed until she began to cry. She made tiny, chipmunk sounds as she cried. I put my arm around her shoulder and she let me. Then I rubbed little circles into her back like Gina did for me whenever I cried. It didn’t help. She cried even harder. I stared at her hair. Mist clung to it like tiny diamonds. I wished I could help her, but I couldn’t do anything. I was only a kid, like her.
    â€œI saw this sign in front of St. Ann’s church the other day,” I said. “It was a good one. I wanted to remember it.”
    â€œWhat did it say?” She looked up. Her tears had streaked her makeup and left black ribbons around her eyes.
    â€œAll shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”
    She nodded and reached into her bag for her cigarettes.

    The next day, Brian, Meredith, and I sat out on the front porch. We were outside because Shawn, Josh, and Kyle were having a farting contest in the kitchen and the whole house reeked. They refused to open any windows or turn on the fan because they said it would skew the results of the contest. Besides, it was one of our first real spring days with sunshine and robins and everything,