*****135

Stateside. How easy it was to spend her morning with her children, then have mom take over and off she went to ABCSC her home base. Invigorating, she thought as her high heels clicked across the hallway of the third floor where offices were situated. She leaned into one door with a pattering knock on the heavier sound proof oak.

"Rachel?" she queried softly, in case she was busy.

"My dear.... Come in." Was the immediate reply. Tracy leaned into the door, but didn't enter. "I have a meeting in a minute, just stopped to say hi."

"Hi." Rachel had come to the door and now she gave Tracy a quick hug. "What meeting?"

"Oh, you'd think it was about the building, or the by-law committee which really has me going these days, or maybe a nice interview with some peachy reporter, but alas, no. I'm going to sit in on a new client of Sabrina's. It's part of my graduate studies. I'm going for my doctorate."

"Tracy! You didn't tell me! When did this come up?"

"Oh, recently, like in the last few days. I talked to the advisor at the university after I got home from Paris...." What a fiasco. No one would take her seriously after that little bit. Good grief, was she photographed with every male in attendance? The tabloids had been full, full of it. Every fake boyfriend possible.... If it was possible, she'd have done it. Ditched children, collapsed, nervous breakdown, drugs, alcohol... speculation about leaving her religious preferences to join a Satanic cult. She shook herself mentally and smiled at Rachel, who eyed her thoughtfully.

"Well, if anyone can do it, Trace, you can." Rachel admitted.

"Do you like it here, Rachel?" Tracy said and backed toward the door again.

"I do." Rachel laughed. "Never thought I'd say it, but counseling the youth of the community that are in serious trouble is so rewarding. Older people have a hard time seeing the need for change; young people are extremely ready for change."

Tracy nodded, smiled, closed the door and resumed her clicking down the hall, wondering if she would rather have carpet so the clicking wasn't quite so loud. She arrived at an office, opened the door, and stepped inside. Now this was the kind of office you expected a shrink to have. Underplayed cherry wood desk, oversized comfy looking couches, a couple of chairs, bookshelves everywhere, the large window overlooking the ocean.... She smiled thoughtfully filing it away for future reference.

Liz Eckert, the new counselor, and her mentor in this exercise was at the desk, hunched over on the floor, checking something.... down under. "Is there something I can help you with?" Tracy grimaced, imagining electrical issues right off the bat, and Liz jumped in startlement and bonked her head on the underside of her desk, just as another knock sounded and another young woman entered. Liz's cry of pain, accompanied a wide-eyed acknowledgment that her clients were in the room and she got to her feet laboriously, rubbing her head with one hand, she held out the other for Tracy to shake. She didn't introduce herself, but smiled warmly and indicated a seat for the two, as she shook the next young woman's hand.

Tracy turned to the obviously pregnant teenager, her two-toned dyed black and blonde hair and multiple piercings attesting to her trend-following. "I'm Tracy." She introduced, lightly. She recalled the profile and screening results she had already perused, and knew that this girl was probably not a candidate. She had a very high hostility rating, wasn't raped, or abandoned, and admitted freely that she felt no responsibility toward the child she carried. Tracy had chosen to give her a chance to hear the program from her personally, so she could look in her eye and decide for herself whether she thought the girl would carry though with any commitment she might make.

The girl was impressed, but not.... Something in her eyes swam with her lack of trust. "I'm Michelle." She cocked her head to one side and smashed her gum with a loud snap.

"Well, Michelle, I think we can get started with a part of the program you're here for while Liz is getting her bearings back." She eyed Liz comically, as she scrambled now for ice in the small apartment sized refrigerator hidden in the wall. She nodded and waved.

Tracy spotted the manuals that she and the ABC staff had come up with and had had printed en masse, and scooted them across the desk to allow Michelle to see them. "Feel free to look at them while I'm talking so you have an idea what you're getting into. First of all, let me welcome you to the Alternative Birthing Center of Southern California. This center is designed to help young unwed mothers, who have suffered from poor life choices, whether their own, or their partner's, sometimes their families, and friend's life choices. Our goal is not just to give you a home or a place to have a baby. We are not an abortion clinic, nor technically an adoption agency. The function of ABC is to educate each young woman who enters these doors so that she can take care of her child if necessary, and live a more normal life with better values, and greater opportunity to succeed in mainstream society. Do you understand?"

Michelle looked away. "I'm not sure this is what I want."

Tracy nodded. "That's fair, let's keep on with the introduction and you can tell me if I am able to answer any more of your questions. I'm sure you will have many."

Michelle nodded, and Tracy waited, clearing her mind. She'd roll played the introduction session now many times, and was prepared for several manners of reception, realizing that most teens were angry at the situation they found themselves in, most wanted someone else to take responsibility for their choices, including the baby they carried. When Michelle didn't seem like she was too nervous, Tracy went on.

"As a young unwed mother approaches the time of delivery, there are many questions about the future that start to creep in, and they become anxious about it. Our goal is to help ease the anxiety. Poor life choices don't disappear overnight, they take a lot of time, and trust, and effort to overcome, but with commitment and a clear understanding of a reasonable goal, this can be done."

Michelle held up her hand. "Listen, I don't want the kid. I can't afford to have the kid in the hospital. I just want to get rid of it, and get back to my life."

Tracy nodded. In roll play, this could be interpreted as anger over the unwanted pregnancy and situation, bitter resentment that she found herself in this situation, and with a little help, could be turned toward a positive outcome; however, this could also be very real. Many people, the vast majority, did not want to change. Tracy had seen many, many roll plays where a counselor tried to wheedle and coerce a client into his or her way of thinking, feeling that they knew what was best for the client, but Tracy had a very high regard for honoring a person's agency, their right to choose, and she believed in not wasting anyone's time. Therefore her approach left little room for capitulation. If the client was not clear about the situation and what was being offered, then she would make an attempt to clear up any misconceptions, but she, Tracy was very clear about what her center offered.

"You have several options given your current stated life choice, my dear." She said clearly and succinctly. "You can choose to walk out of here right now, and never look back. Option one. Option two: you can choose to abide by the conditions of the contract you will sign here at ABCSC and live by those standards with the help of trained professionals."

Michelle's eyes widened. "I've already gone through your tests and profiles." She protested, sitting up in her chair and staring at Tracy in disbelief. "I fit your requirements."

Tracy pursed her lips and shook her head slowly. "Those are simply a screening. We may choose to help whomever we want, regardless of their profile requirements, or testing. This in an establishment of rules, but also of compassion. We are absolutely committed to helping those who want our kind of help. But those who want to specify their own kind of help can go find somebody willing to help them."

"But I fit your requirements!" Michelle argued, but with a little less confidence.

Tracy stood up. "I don't care about the requirements, Michelle. I care about people. I am not here to be used, to have my money wasted on crack whores who want out of a predictably bad situation." Her words were tough and judgmental, she sighed. "This establishment is here to provide help under certain conditions only. Any good actress can meet the requirements, it's what we see in a girl's character that tells us whether or not she will be a good candidate for ABC. Liars can meet requirements." Inwardly she winced... that was a little over the top, but something about this girl was tossing up warning flares for her.

"So far you've called me a liar and a crack whore. I think I might have a good case against you...." Michelle was still sitting though, and Tracy walked carefully to the door.

"I did not specifically call you either of those things. What I'm saying is, even girls who makes those choices, and are ineligible can present themselves as eligible. Did you know that anyone can do anything they want for at least three months? Be whoever they want?----Listen---

"I do not represent a government agency, Michelle, which you would know if you'd read the preliminary information. Right now, you are voluntarily sitting in this office, just like if you were sitting in your living room at home. Nobody is making you do anything. You have heard nothing directed at you that you couldn't have heard in your own home."

"I just want to get rid of this kid." Desperation tinged the now imploring but still hostile eyes she presented to Tracy.

Tracy's hand on the doorknob stilled. "I get to make a choice, Michelle. I can choose not to be saddled with your poor choice. You had the choice also, before you started messing around. It's not the kid's fault that you made a poor choice."

"I can't believe this..." she put her head in her hands and stared at the ground, apparently in shock.

"Our preliminary survey, Michelle, states very clearly that girls who sign up for our help willingly choose to follow all the rules of ABC. If you choose to terminate prior to completing the program you agree to pay back all the money that has been spent in your care."

"Actually your paper says that girls can pay back to ABC the money spent on them by working here after their baby is born." Michelle looked up again. "I came here to have this baby and to have you find a place for it to grow up. I didn't kill it. That should count for something."

"Oh, absolutely, it does, Michelle. We are very glad that you aren't planning an abortion. Our mission statement reads that all conceptions are viable, each child has a right to be born, not killed. But we aren't here as an adoption agency, there are plenty of those around and I can give you addresses for them, in fact, they should be in your prelim packet, the one you originally signed."

"I don't want the adoption agency."

"Did you fail their screening?"

"They said I had a medical condition that made me unlikely to...." Her eyes filled with tears.

"What medical condition?"

Michelle refused to answer.

"So, what you're saying is that your baby is likely to be born with serious complications due to your drug abuse during your pregnancy?"

"What?"

"You admitted that you've used very hazardous drugs during your pregnancy. I think it might be why you don't want to commit to our program. You won't have any access to your supplier. There are several addresses for state-operated hospitals that won't refuse to deliver your baby, and you'll be free to go. In fact, the law reads that you can have your baby on your own, and then drop it off at one of these hospitals and they will take it in. No questions asked."

"But you won't help me?"

"Our offices are designed to mainly help those who want to keep their babies, or who haven't decided, or who think they can't manage on their own. I'm not in the business of encouraging juvenile delinquents, Michelle. I help people face poor choices and deal with them; I refuse to enable them to continue in those behaviors that are proven to be detrimental to the health of women and their unborn children. So....." she glanced at Liz. "Liz can help you find an appropriate hospital, she can even give you a little free counseling today, and you can choose to come back tomorrow for a follow-up class, that will help you make an informed decision about this facility. It was nice meeting you." She went through the door and gave Michelle as real of a compassionate smile as she could.

"That's it? You're just going to walk out of here?"

Tracy poked her head back in. "I have other appointments, Michelle." She said. "What do you think? Of course, that's it. You told me you just want to get rid of your baby and you want someone else to pay for your delivery, pay for your care and pay for the care of your child. And you want that someone to be me. Why?"

"Well..." she sputtered. "I thought you have lots of money."

Tracy nodded and ran her teeth over her lips in thought. "This isn't a charity. I choose my charities carefully. Mainly I donate to groups that can help feed and clothe and provide medical help for those in disaster areas. Like the Red Cross for instance." She closed the door feeling a little befuddled, mostly by the resolution of tough love she'd prayed for before she came to ABC today, and her natural compassion that bordered on fanatic. It would be so easy to ask the mother to just leave her baby here, and she, Tracy would love it, and raise it and give it a good home. But that didn't teach anybody to change their behavior, it didn't help anyone feel responsible for their own actions. It was like taking a symptom-masking cold remedy, without treating the real infection.

*****