Immaculate: Chapter 2

Mr. Conrad offered me something to drink as we sat on the rickety patio deck. I politely declined, eager to get the full scoop before he changed his mind. Alice, meanwhile, he sent off to work on homework in the kitchen while the grown-ups talked in the scant piece of land that was their backyard.

“You won’t need that,” Mr. Conrad said as I pulled out my recorder. I didn’t argue and put it away. Then, with his attention fixed to the aging wood of the fence, he thoughtfully began,

“You have to understand something: my sister, Allie, she was - she really was a good person. She was just one of those kids who liked to run a little wild from time to time.”

“I understand,” I assured him, though Mr. Conrad smiled sarcastically.

“I hope so, because no one else seems to be able to.

"See, this wasn’t the first time Allison got pregnant as a kid.” My brow arched involuntarily, though Mr. Conrad didn’t seem to notice. Or simply chose to ignore it.

“There were only two close calls before then. From two different guys. The first she miscarried pretty early on - the doctor said that’s actually pretty normal for most women. The second was a false alarm. At least, that’s what Allie always said. I could never prove it, but I always believed she’d got rid of that one herself. I don’t think even Mom and Dad knew about it.

“See at that time I was into my second year at college. I was living on campus and didn’t really know much about what was going on at home,” he sighed and added, “although, in the end, I’m not sure it would’ve made much difference.

“Allie was a good kid. Please realize that she was. But… but it was like, there was always this hole in heart she could never fill. It had been there with her since we were kids, and none of us knew where it came from. Allie just... just couldn’t love herself unless someone else was loving her. It’s almost like she didn’t think she was deserving of it. Not unless she proved it,” he added darkly.

In that moment I could see he was looking back at all the boys from his sister’s past: the ones who probably took advantage of this loneliness as soon as they realized it was there. They probably thought they were probably genuinely good people, too. But to Rick Conrad, they would always be the villains in his little sister’s story.

“I want you to know all of this before I tell you about Alice. So you can understand the predicament she’s in. The one that her mother was in for a very long time.”

“You mean with the pregnancy?”

“Yes. Because, you see, nobody ever believed her when she said she didn’t cheat on Kenny Richardson. And nobody ever believed her when she said Kenny wasn’t the father. I didn’t even believe her when she first told me about the baby.

“She cut class to come to my apartment, to tell me she was six weeks along. I kept asking her ‘who’s the father, who’s the father,’ but she only said that was why she was scared: she’d broken up with Kenny two months before, and hadn’t been with anyone since. One morning she just woke up pregnant and she didn’t know how it happened.

“Like I said, I didn’t believe her at first. It’s just too surreal to believe. But then the more I thought about it, the more worried I got. Not because I believed her - I was concerned there was something worse going on. That she was sick somehow. We made an appointment at the campus clinic and a friend of mine looked her over there. It sounds horrible when I say it out loud, but I was sincerely hoping that they would find something other than a baby in there: a tumor, a rupture - some weird genetic anomaly or something… anything other than a baby…

“But the tests came back and they all proved it: Allie was a perfectly healthy seventeen-year-old… and an expecting mother. And according to her, no father ever factored into the equation,” he paused and glanced around, peering into the kitchen window where Alice dutifully concentrated on her work.

“Does she know?” I asked. Uncle Rick shook his head.

“No. Allison never told her. And she asked that I never tell her either. This is something that no adult can wrap their head around. How on earth could a child understand it any better?”

“What made you change your mind?” I inquired. “What was it that made you suddenly believe her?”

“Well I didn’t ‘suddenly’ believe her,” Uncle Rick retorted. “Would you if it was your sister? But as the pregnancy progressed, and things started to get worse for Allie, I realized she must’ve been telling the truth. She’d have nothing to gain from a lie like that. Nothing except to be labeled ‘crazy’ in addition to a 'whore'.”

“I take it everyone treated her that way?”

“And then some. Everyone at school knew Allie had fooled around some, but her getting knocked up was the ultimate proof of it. I’d find it amusing if it wasn’t so sick,” he laughed cynically.

“They’re all just kids doing what comes naturally, and it shouldn’t be more than that. But if a guy gets caught doing it, he’s a stud. So if a girl gets caught, well then…” he shrugged. “She’s a whore.”

He sighed and reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a copper-colored lighter. The cigarette came next.

“I guess some things will never change. No matter where or when you live.”

The cigarette came to life and he inhaled deeply, holding it in for just a moment and breathing out a stream of white smoke through his nose.

“Sorry,” he muttered absentmindedly. “I’m trying to quit. Old habits, you know…”

“Anyway,” he went on, “Allison took it all as best as she could. She lost some friends along the way. But the ones that stayed were by her side the whole time. She never told any of them the truth. I was the only one who ever knew until now. As for the rest of them, well, Allie confirmed nothing and denied nothing. Just let people think what they wanted to,” he grinned mischievously, and I realized it was the first time I’d actually seen him smile.

“Allie had her moments of pure brilliance, I have to give her that.”

“Still, your parents couldn’t have been happy about her situation? How did they react?”

“The way you’d expect them to,” Uncle Rick shrugged. “They wanted her to get rid of it. But Allie stood her ground and refused. She knew even back then that this child was a very special responsibility. She couldn’t just give it up, or give it away. So… mom and dad cut her off after Alice was born. They won't even see her," added nodding to the kitchen window,

"Not even with Allie gone. I tell them about her, of course, only when I do see them.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Alice is a very special little girl, just like you said Mr. Landers. But even she couldn’t fix the rift between us and our parents.” He paused and sadly added, “that’s just the way it is, I suppose." He gazed down at the browning grass in silent contemplation, before adding,

“You asked me how I came to believe her story. It’s just as I said: it was very slow acceptance for me because of how crazy it all seemed. But what really did it for me was the day Alice was born. During the whole pregnancy Allison didn’t want to be told the sex of her baby - she said she already had a hunch.”

“She already knew Alice was a girl?” I asked incredulously.

“Yeah. It was the only possibility.”

“What do you mean?”

“I ran all this by a classmate of mine - brilliant girl studying biology and genetics and all that - one day I ran all this by her as a hypothetical, and she told me that, though improbable, if a child were to be born without a father, then the child in question would inevitably be female. In this hypothetical case, the child would essentially be a genetic copy of her mother.”

“So you believe that Alice is a clone of her mother?”

“I don’t know,” Rick sighed, exhausted. “I really don’t. This kind of stuff has always gone right over my head…”

Suddenly the back door swung open and we spun around to see Alice barreling for us in a bare-footed skip. She wrapped her arms around Uncle Rick’s leg and beamed up at him with a gaped-tooth smile.

“I finished my homework! Can I come out and play now?”

“Well, that depends,” Uncle Rick answered, playing with her curls. “Did you put your binder away?”

“Yep.”

“Did you put your backpack away?”

“Yep.”

“Did you put your lunchbox away?”

“Yep, yep!”

“Did you kiss your favorite uncle today?”

“Not yet!”

“Then get up here and give us a kiss,” he smiled. She wrapped her thin arms around his neck and he pressed his lips against her little cheek, making loud, silly slurping noises. Alice giggled uncontrollably, before finally crying for mercy. Uncle Rick pulled his face away and smiled at her warmly.

“Have I told you today I love you?”

“Just did!” Alice declared.

“Alright then, kiddo, go on and play.” He put her back down on the patio and she raced back inside the house. She was gone for only a moment and then skipped back through the doors wearing a pair of worn, purple sneakers. She took a fleeting glance at me as she leapt from the patio and raced for a pile of abandoned toys in the corner of the yard.

“She’s a sweet girl,” I complimented quietly. “I take it she’s a lot like your sister, then.”

“No actually. At least not completely. She’s headstrong and willful sometimes. Even a little sassy - but that’s normal for most girls. To be honest, though, Allie struggled to stand up for herself most of the time. But there’s just something about Alice. Something her mother never had. She’s confident in herself. Sometimes it can even come across as arrogance, despite her being only a child. But at least she knows her worth.”

“Do you ever worry about her?”

“Of course I do,” he frowned. “The same way I worried about my sister.”

“Could you have her tested? To verify your suspicions.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Rick admitted. “But every time I consider it, I come back to the same conclusion: it wouldn’t be good.”

“How so?”

“Well, for one thing, if it turns out Alice is normal - that Kenny Richardson is her father - it could leave us open to a custody battle. Not that I think they would actually pursue it, but I wouldn’t put anything past the Richardsons. They aren’t terrible people, I suppose… but they can be a little, um, ‘mightier than thou.’”

I thought back to my only encounter with Mr. and Mrs. Richardson, and found that I couldn’t help but agree.

“On the other hand," Rick continued, "if it proves that Allison was telling the truth - that Alice really is a 'miracle child' - I fear it could start all kinds of trouble for her. She'd be put under a microscope for the rest of her life - by everyone. People would celebrate her for no good reason. Others would vilify her for no good reason. That much I’m certain of.”

“But not knowing could be just as dangerous for her,” I pointed out. "It could end up affecting her health down the road, give her - well, biology," Rick looked at me amiably, a touch of surprise crossing his gray eyes.

“I know,” he agreed soberly. “And that’s the one thing I worry about the most. Every single day.” Our time was almost up, and though my mind still whirled with questions, I chose to ask the one that had been bothering me the most.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did your sister pass away?”

“Car accident,” Rick stated, his eyes locked on Alice. “She was hit by a drunk driver coming home from work." He chuckled cynically. “If there really is a God - one who made our Alice possible - he’s got a real twisted sense of humor.” Then suddenly, he turned and asked,

“What do you think, Mr. Landers? What do you choose to believe?”

The question left me startled, because I realized I never actually thought about it.

Chris had described it as a simply ordinary story - a tale as old as time and for decades to come. It was a story that the Richardsons believed, and all of Allie’s friends and family. All but one person had elected to follow the status quo of this predicament; this little ditty about another Jack and another Diane.

And to their credit, that was the easiest story to believe.

“It’s like I said: I think your niece is a very special little girl,” I finally answered. “The same way I think your sister was a very special woman.”

Rick smiled. A warm and friendly smile. As if for the first time, in a long time, a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Even for just a moment.