Legal Murder

chapter:20

"Dixie, it's Reagan. Virginia and I received the letter you sent- we were exceedingly moved." Reagan clicked his ink pen shut, shifted his cellphone to the opposite ear, and stared down at the contract his agents had drawn up, "I've decided to change the movie's direction. Instead of talking about Lauren, instead of talking about you, instead of talking about all the reasons why abortion is murder, I've decided that we need to take an approach that everyone will listen to. It's going to be a film about your idea to turn the pro-choice movement around and ask real people what they think about abortion. And once we know what they think, we can show them what is true."

He took a long sip of his to-go coffee, and surveyed the ambient grey sky. His camera crew was loading up the vans to take to the airport. They were going on a little trip.

Dixie was lying across her bed, staring up at the peculiar, though familiar, heart-shaped crack in her ceiling. It had been there for as long as Dixie could remember sleeping under it, and her dad had always talked about fixing it. "That sounds brilliant, Mr. Peters. Wish I'd thought of it myself." Her voice was full of all the emptiness that came from feeling like everything was lost.

"You did," He answered slowly, "it was that note with your ideas that made me realize that overturning the laws on abortion can't happen overnight. And it can't happen because the government decides one day to make abortion illegal. No. When, and only when, America sees what abortion truly is- the battle will finally end, we can pack up the troops, and celebrate a fight that was worth all the casualties of our emotional states." He chuckled dryly.

Dixie swallowed the thoughts of father trapped in the hospital. "Maybe it's hopeless, Reagan." She flipped onto her stomach and reached over the edge of her Batman sheets to touch the metal of her mother's typewriter. Dixie had dragged it down from the attic because the temperature had dropped overnight, and she knew that if she caught a cold, she wouldn't be able to visit her dad.

"Hopeless?" The sheer disbelief in his voice was unmistakable.

"Maybe some fights are meant to be lost." She cradled her cellphone into her shoulder and lifted the typewriter into her lap. "I mean, just Google 'pro-life'. There are people out there that are fighting. People much older, smarter, more dedicated than me are out there swinging banners, wearing tee shirts, and proclaiming in the name of the unborn."

There were dry tears left on her cheeks from her afternoon of being alone, "Who am I? Who am I to suddenly decide to march in and save the day? I'm just a freshman from Riverdale. I haven't even taken Chemistry yet. I've never traveled farther than Tennessee. I've only been in like, two handfuls of pro-life debates in my entire life. I don't have the experience, or the wisdom, or the willpower to change the minds of America. Maybe you should just find some other girl to represent the cause."

Silence. He didn't speak. He didn't move. 

"Mr. Peters?"

He squinted across the parking lot that his camera crew had set up in. There was a chain link fence that went around the perimeter of the old lot, and there was a gate that was kept locked in order to keep out stampeding fans when famous actors were present on set. Since there weren't any celebrities on site that day, Reagan watched the growing crowd of slightly-aggressive press with an increasing amount of curiosity.

"Reagan... is everything okay?" Dixie kept staring at the stained paper jammed into the typewriter. While she waited in the silence of her phone conversation, she wondered if writing a book was even worth her time. Nobody would read it anyway. Right?

Reagan let his arm, with his cellphone in it, fall limp at his side as he stepped away from one of his equipment vans. A member of the staff, dressed from head to toe in black, came jogging un-athletically up to his boss.

"Sir-" He panted like he'd just run a marathon. "Sir, they're all here to interview Dixie before the flight. Someone from the crew must have leaked the news about your new movie proposition. Everyone's talking about it on social media-" The younger man had an expression of shock as he pulled out his cellphone and shoved it in Reagan's face. He recited out loud, "Pro-life people are ecstatic and donating hundreds of dollars to support Dixie, your movie, and the thousands of mothers considering abortion.

Pro-choice people are protesting with headlines like 'Bias Hollywood B-roll' and 'Conservative Catholic Propaganda Against Feminism'. Even the apathetic have found an opinion about the American scandal that has been silenced for too long: abortion." He was grinning as he swiveled his phone back in front of his own eyes. There was something in the young crew member's eyes that reminded Reagan of Dixie- and that something was hope.

"Tell them they'll have to wait a bit longer." Reagan told him, "I need to convinve someone that having hope is all we need to make this happen." Then he started across the parking lot and leaned against the sharp, metal fence. He wanted Dixie to hear the loud interest of the crowd. The top of the fence dug into his suit jacket as he lifted his cellphone back to his ear. "Are you still there, Dixie?" He yelled over the roaring of the reporters.

The only evidence of her misery was beginning to soak salty drops into the pages in her typewriter. She was smiling and flicking away at the century-old keys. "I heard everything, Mr. Peters." Dixie breathed out, "But I have one question."

He tilted away from the noise enough to hear her question.

"What's your big movie idea?"

Reagan grinned and flipped his thumb in the air to signal to his crew that they could head out. "Virginia and I will meet you at the coffee shop near Little NYC Newspaper in a half an hour. I'll tell you everything there."

Dixie glanced down at her black sweatpants and tie-dye tank top. "I don't think I can-"

"Oh, and Dixie?"

"Yeah?"

"We're going to need a few signatures, so bring your dad along." 

Her heart began to beat louder. It beat so loud that she could hear it echoing back into her eardrums. "Mr. Peters, I don't think my dad can make it. Can't we postpone whatever this meeting is? This really isn't the best time."

"A great young woman once made me realize that there's never a best time for revolution, but that the best time comes after the revolution. After, when we can look at humans and instead of seeing monsters, see humanity."