UNIT6 The Pasture
Night settled, thick with the acrid odors of gunpowder and blood. No moon meant firing at muzzle flashes, an inexact method by which to combat one's foe, but the enemy had no advantage either. With artillery fire blanketin the field of battle, Jack had no opportunity to go to Mike's aid. He poked his head over the rim of the trench to see if he could spot Mike's corpse. He knew he was dead. He had heard his scream of pain when he was hit. His agonized moans had grown weaker and less frequent and finally ceased about ten minutes ago. The regiment had been under heavy bombardment for two days without respite. He had been too late to stop Mike as he propelled himself out of the foxhole and staggered as he hit the muddy terrain. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming. Mike had started to break yesterday. He was becoming bizarre, talking about his patriotic duty to expel the enemy from these shores. Paradoxically, just before he hopped over the edge of the trench he scorned the day he had heeded the call to enlist It pained him to realize that his one friend in this ungodly war had betrayed him by dying. Soldiers don't often make friends with one another, knowing they might die. He and Mike were different. They had known each other since they were children. Mike was the best man when Jack and Lily walked down the aisle just a week before they left the dock and crossed the channel to engage the enemy. Clouds tumbled and overlapped one another as the wind began to freshen. It was getting colder now. The prospect of another night of rain, or perhaps even snow, made Jack quiver with dread. Blood tinged water was beginning to crust over with ice. He could feel his toes and fingers stiffen as the temperature dropped. Maybe Mike was better off than he. At least the cold wouldn't bother him any more. Suddenly, comets of light began to streak across the night sky. They were using flares! The increased tempo of cannon fire coming from the left flank, shattering the earth around them, could only mean the enemy had sensed their weakness, and was coming in for the kill. They were heading straight for the underbelly!Jack's rifle misfired. The whole corps had been issued new guns a few days before this campaign had started. It wasn't long before they discovered that the alloy used in the barrels couldn't endure prolonged firing, causing the shell casings to adhere in the bore. How could he repel the enemy without a weapon? Jack felt a stab of pain in his right thigh. The ground around him ruptured. Jerking from side to side, he tried to dodge falling rocks and the clods of dirt raining down upon him. He slumped into a prone posture as he felt himself shoved from behind by an unknown force that felt as if it might have been a racing locomotive. The last thing he heard, before his world was overturned, was a chorus of screams “Am I dead? Where am I? Where is everybody?” Cognitively, Jack realized he was still functioning physiologically so that meant he was still alive, but for how long? He couldn't move. Maybe the impact had fractured his spine and he was paralyzed. He tried analytically，to assess the damage incurred by moving his limbs, one by one, in a clockwise direction, starting with his right arm. Everything appeared able to be mobilized but for some reason he couldn't get up off the ground. Everything went black again. Jack led his horse by the reins as they stepped onto the overpass bridging the gap between the plateaus. In the distance, he could see a twelve point buck grazing in the pasture, silhouetted against the waning sunset. Out of nowhere, a bull came charging across the meadow toward him. He tried to run but his feet were pegged to the bridge. Drifting in and out of consciousness, Jack tried to make sense of what had happened to him. He seemed to be in a cavity under the ground. The earth was compacted on his legs but he thought he might be able to rotate his body enough to make himself a little more comfortable. Was that a shaft of light he could see through the groov between the fingers of his left hand covering his eyes? He groped to clear a tiny bit more space for himself. The shutters of his consciousness closed again.The galaxy was being probed by lunar modules shuttling between Earth and the other planets. As a member of a federation of geologists, Jack and his team had to follow the seam of ore to its source, a pasture on a distant asteroid. Once again, Jack regained lucidity. “Wow,” he thought, “that was like a bad paperback nove about astronomy!” He sniffed the air. It was foul with the smell of death but qualitatively able to sustain life. Why was it so quiet? Was he deaf? Was the battle over? Was everyone dead? The weight on his legs was becoming oppressive. Lily lay back in the soft, green grass of the pasture. White daisies, golden brown-eyed Susans, prickly blue viper's bugloss, and frilly Queen Anne's lace surrounded her. She beckoned to him from what seemed like miles away. He hiked through the grass calling her name. She began to stroll away from him into the distance. He had to reach her! He loved her so! If they couldn't marry, he would make her his mistress! Nothing could extinguish the flame of his love! He would cling to that until his dying day. Lying stationary was taking its toll on Jack's circulation. His feet and hands were numb. Something was tickling his nose. He managed to tilt away from the irritant, whatever it was. He was so thirsty! He tried to lubricate his lips with saliva but had none. His bladder felt like a separate entity that would overflow. He could stall the urge to void no longer and allowed the urine to flow out of him.What did it matter now? He was as good as dead anyway. The fort stood in the center of the pasture. A moat filled with sharks protected its walls from any possible intruders. Jack pedaled his bicycle as fast as he could. The sharks whipped back and forth so quickly they created foam on the surface of the water. He had to cross the drawbridge before it was raised, segregating him from his regiment and his pregnant wife, Lily. She saw him approaching and skipped onto the bridge to greet him. The bridge was rising. The sharks were in frenzy! He rode as if the hounds of hell were after him. He had to reach her! His right arm was wedged against a rock. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wrench it free. This was getting tiresome. He felt a stitch in his right side. That's all he needed now to die from a ruptured appendix! He had wriggled enough to increase the size of the slot in which he was trapped. Were those voices he was hearing? He wasn't deaf! When he fought his way to the surface of consciousness once again, he was being carried on a litter over the inverted battlefield. Bodies were strewn everywhere. The stretcherbearers stumbled over the rough ground but maintained control of their human cargo as they made their way to the field hospital. The fuse leading to the dynamite in the stern of the oil tanker burned so rapidly that Jack knew the ship would explode before he could reach the hatch to extinguish the flame. The olive green ship was almost within his reach when it blew up He felt as if he were on a grill. His face was aflame. His body felt as if the skin had been ripped from it. He wanted to die before the pain grew worse. His forehead felt cool. He opened his eyes slowly, painfully. A white-clad nurse sponged his face gently. As she became aware of his gaze, she stopped her ministrations and offered him a sip of water. “Take it easy,” she whispered. “You mustn't drink too quickly. Too much, too fast will give you nasty cramps. Jack was aware of bandages on his muscular arms and casts on both legs. Intravenous tubing carried a clear fluid into his veins. Consciousness was still transient. Dreams of a strange pasture mingled with reality and continued to haunt his sleep. He understood he was on a hospital ward, but where? And how did he get here? The pretty young nurse was back. “We cabled your wife. She knows you were injured but are on the mend. “How did they find me?” Jack asked.“A patrol looking for survivors found you buried in the the foxhole. You were calling ‘Lily!’They started digging and there you were. You were stabilized at the field hospital before they could bring you here. We scrubbed you up and started to you with I.V. therapy. You were very dehydrated and suffering from urinary retention and renal failure. Your kidneys may never function normally again. The good news is that you survived,” she explained A stray strand of hair fell across Jack's cheek hiding the tears that crept from his eyes. He was grateful to have his life back. He silently saluted his friend. Mike hadn't been so lucky The cable from Lily arrived the next day. “We have a son stop Born 05 Dec. stop Healthy stop Named him Michael stop I love you. Lily stop P.S. Dad bought the pasture and deeded it to Michael.”
UNIT7 The Decision
Dr. Sam said to me: “I don't know how to say this, except to come right out with it, Miriam. The tests we did last week show that there are abnormalities with the fetus. I recommend you consider an abortion. I sat, hands folded together in my lap, numbed by his words. The world around me disappeared as I strove to absorb the dreadful news Dr. Sam was giving me. His voice came to me as if spoken in a tunnel, hollow and echoing. Could this be true? The baby inside me, the miracle created by love, wasn't perfect! “Your baby has a condition known as Down's Syndrome. The problems you will face if you don't terminate this pregnancy could be overwhelming, especially now that Paul is no longer with you.” Here I was, thirty nine years old, pregnant for the first time, and my doctor, my trusted friend, was telling me I should kill this innocent life in my womb. I knew I had to respond but words escaped me. Finally, I was able to speak. “I need some time to consider my options. With all that has happened in the past month and a half, I don't want to do anything without knowing all I can about this.” “You don't have long, Miriam. You are eleven weeks along and it's dangerous to perform an abortion after twelve weeks, try not to prolong your decision.” “It's too much for me to get my head around right now. I need to think. I promise Ill get back to you in a day or so.” I left the office in a daze. What was I going to do? Where would I begin? Who, besides Dr. Sam, would be able to advise me? My parents were on the other side of the world, teaching in China. I felt that if I could talk to Mom, held in her comforting arms, she would give me some of her wisdom. If I could be face-to-face with Dad, he would give me strength. They were all I had left in my world. My husband, Paul, had been killed in a traffic accident six weeks ago Mom and Dad had gone back to China a week after the funeral, when they thought I was able to cope with my loss. There was nowhere to turn. I had to face reality. This was a decision I would make on my own. I needed to gather all the information I could about Down's syndrome. I wasted no time. I went to the library to begin my research. The steps to the futur were in my hands. The first medical journal I chose explained the causes of Down's syndrome. Normally, each egg and sperm cell contains 23 chromosomes, and, when they unite, 23 pairs or 46 in total. Occasionally, an accident occurs when the egg or sperm cell is forming, creating an extra chromosome number 21. This extra chromosome results in the features of Down's syndrome. In the past, this disorder was called “Mongolism” because of the facial characteristics including slanted eyes and a small, flattened nasal bridge. It is a commo genetic birth defect affecting about one in 800 to 1000 births when the mother is 30 years of age. The odds of my having a Down syndrome increased to one in 100 because I was in my fortieth year There is no cure for this disorder. Neither is there any prevention. My child would be developmentally and physically retarded to a greater or lesser degree. She could have numerous health problems. It was unlikely she would ever marry and her having children was out of the question. Her life expectancy could be as little as 55 years. Paul and I had been married for ten years and had always regretted the fact that I had been unable to conceive. After he died, I attributed my nausea, vomiting and lethargy to my grief, never suspecting that I might be pregnant. Poor Paul would never know that we would have a child together. This thought alone was what made me realize that I wouldn't be able to have an abortion, no matter what obstacles might be ahead of us. Iwaited a day before calling Dr. Sam to inform him of my decision. I had to be sure! “Miriam, I think I know why you want to go through with this pregnancy, but are you aware of the risks?” “I know my baby will be different. I know she may be mentally and physically retarded. She may have developmental difficulties and problems with social acceptance. I do recognize that I am going to have to amend almost every facet of my life. I am prepared to do that. This is my final gift from Paul and I am determined to go through with this!” “I thought you would feel that way. You have my utmost admiration and support. I will follow your pregnancy carefully but I want you to see a specialist in birth defects. I will refer you to Dr. Brown and would like you to make an appointment with her as soon as possible,” he said. I knew then that I had made the right choice My pregnancy was not without its hardships, from morning sickness to swollen ankles, but I had no doubts about the decision I had made. My parents, when I told them what was going on with me, expressed their concerns but also their confidence in my decision and assured me they would be there when I delivered my baby. Paula was born on a bright, cloudless, warm Tuesday morning in May. I was prepared to see a red, wrinkled, squalling infant. Instead, I saw very little. Because of the risks involved, Paula was delivered by Caesarian section. The doctors and nurses rushed her into an incubatorto assess her before I caught a glimpse of her. I could see my parents on the other side of the operating room window, questions in their eyes. What was going on? The nurses kept me comfortable and tried to alleviate my fears but half an hour passed before our questions were answered. My daughter had a severe heart defect It could be corrected through surgery but not until she gained a little weight and strength. I understood in that moment that my life had changed forever I demanded to see her immediately, and as soon as I did, I fell in love. This most precious of all gifts was going to survive the obstacles ahead of her with my help. I knew in an instant that all my strength,love, and monetary resources were at her command. Nothing she wanted needed, or even dreamed of, would ever be denied. The heart surgery to correct a flawed valve was a resounding success. Fortunately, the common defects occurring in a majority of Down's syndrome children were absent in Paula. She has no intestinal malformations, hearing impairment, or severe visual problems. We are truly blessed. My parents adore this exceptional grandchild. Their expertise in teaching, nurturing, and parenting has been so welcome. I always knew they were there for me; now they are there for us. I am aware of the sympathetic looks from strangers who don't know or understand the disorder afflicting my child. Their pity, for what they ascertain as my plight, is misplaced but understandable. I am sure that I, too, felt sorry for parents of what I thought of as imperfect children. Paula is a delightful child. Her physical defects are apparent; there is no doubt she is different from other children. However, she goes to school with other children her age; she takes longer to learn thing and has to work harder, but she is achieving all the milestones of growing children. Raising her is a challenge, as is the raising of any child. It isn't easy and it won't get easier As she grows and develops, there will be questions to answer, hurdles to cross, and goals to reach. Paula is different. She is aware that she is. It doesn't dismay her. She greets each day with a smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eye. Do I ever have doubts about my decision? No! My only regre is that Paul isn't here to share my joy in our wonderful daughter. UNIT 8
