Looking for Cassandra Jane (The Second Chances Novels) Page 14

  About a dozen of us were there that evening (only the most devout) and we piously hit our knees and bowed our heads (while others in town drank, danced, and exploded fireworks). Our plan: to pray for the city of Brookdale until well after midnight and into New Year’s Day. As much as I wanted to participate in this important vigil I shamed myself by drifting off right there, facedown on the Hanson’s avocado green shag carpeting.

  I realize now that my unfortunate experience back at the Glenns had probably drained what little strength and energy I’d had left, but when I awoke the following morning to find the sun already up, I felt like a miserable failure in the area of prayerful petitioning and I silently repented and begged God to forgive me.

  The other kids were all gone by then and Sara said we should probably tiptoe on up to her room and keep quiet because her parents had come home somewhat plastered last night, and apparently her dad hadn’t been terribly pleased to see their family room filled “with a bunch of praying fanatics” as he’d loudly called them, and she expected her dad might be slightly disagreeable if not fairly well hungover by the time he got up. And so she and I just crashed on her bed and slept much of the day away.

  Sara was right about her dad. He was in a foul mood that day and he seemed to have his sights set on our little fellowship group. “What’s this nonsense I’ve been reading about in the paper?” he demanded when he discovered us making sandwiches in the kitchen. He waved the newspaper in her face. Apparently it contained an editorial rebuttal to Sky’s letter on the previous day. “It sounds like you kids are nothing but a flaming bunch of lunatics. Just how far do you plan on taking this crazy Jesus freak business anyway? Next thing I know you’ll be off joining some group of holy rollers and speaking in strange languages.”

  “Oh, Dad!”

  “Don’t you ‘oh, Dad’ me, young lady,” he snapped right back at her. “I don’t like the way you and your little Jesus freak friends are turning into such raving fanatics. I think that editor’s hit the nail on the head. You kids probably are starting a cult!”

  “Dad!”

  “You better keep still and listen to me, missy!” He shook his finger under her nose. “All this religion nonsense isn’t healthy. Good night, Sara Louise, it wasn’t all that long ago that you were barreling down the road into some other kind of serious trouble.” He glanced at me as if he were concealing some deep, dark secret, although I already knew all about Sara’s speckled past. “And now here you are, going off half-cocked and head over heels into this crazy religious crud. Why, I think you’d fall for just about anything that came down the—”

  “No!” I could hear the hurt in her voice. “This is real, Daddy!”

  “Oh, and how in tarnation do you know what’s real and what isn’t? For pete’s sake, Sara, you’re just a kid.”

  “Jesus said we should all have faith like little children,” she retorted. “And it sure wouldn’t hurt you any to—”

  “Yeah, and that’s the other thing that really steams me. I swear, every time I turn around I find you looking down your nose at me and your mother. As if you suddenly think you’ve turned into Saint Sara or something.”

  “Well, Daddy,” she said quietly but firmly, “it’s not as if you guys are exactly living a great life.”

  “Don’t you go telling me how to live, missy!” He shook his fist at her and I cringed. “Don’t you go forgetting that I’m the one that works all week long just to pay for the food you and your Jesus freak friends are always shoving in your face. I’m the one putting a hanged roof over your head. If you think I’m such a big ol’ sinner then why don’t you just try getting by without me?”

  She slapped her sandwich down on the counter. “Fine, Daddy, if that’s the way you want it, I will!”

  He laughed. “Yeah, let’s just see how long you can make it on your own out there—you think this Jesus of yours is going to feed and clothe you and put gas in your car?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do!”

  I set down my sandwich too, then backed away, wishing I could just disappear into the bright-colored poppy wallpaper that decorated their kitchen wall. Their argument had completely diminished what little appetite I’d had. I mutely followed Sara up to her bedroom, where she began throwing clothes into a large suitcase.

  “What are you doing, Sara?” I asked with wide eyes.

  “I’ll show him,” she said. “I’m almost eighteen. I can make it on my own.”

  I blinked. “Really? You really think so?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  I watched as she haphazardly threw a few things into her bag.

  I suspected though (by the way she was packing) she wasn’t really serious about leaving. After all, I knew what it meant to pack your bags to really leave—you have to do it more carefully than that. But I kept these thoughts to myself and in just minutes she was finished and I followed her downstairs, wondering exactly where it was she planned to go.

  I knew she sure couldn’t stay with me. In fact I wasn’t overly eager to go back to the Glenns myself. For one thing I knew there’d be a huge mess to clean up. And then I wondered if I should inform the Glenns of their creepy friend George’s advances toward me last night. Although to be honest that whole episode seemed a little like a foggy dream by then and I could almost convince myself that it had never happened at all. Anyway, that’s what I wanted to believe. And it’s funny to think that’s exactly what we do sometimes—believe what we want.

  “Where are you going?” Sara’s mother called. She stood by the front door, shaking her head with a firm mouth, as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “Daddy wants me to move out,” said Sara in a wounded voice.

  “Oh, of course he doesn’t.”

  “Yes he does. He said that I’m a religious fanatic and that I should go live on my own.” She sniffed. “And I’m almost eighteen. So I’m going now.”

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Sara. Your father’s just upset because all of those cars were blocking his driveway last night and he couldn’t even get our car into the garage and then…well…you know how he gets after an evening of”—she glanced over at me with curiosity—“well, you know what happens when he—uh, overindulges. He’s always a little cranky the next day, but you know it’ll blow over before long and then he’ll apologize to you about the whole crazy thing.”

  “But he’s putting down my beliefs.” Sara’s lower lip protruded slightly.

  “Now you know how he can be about religion.” Her mother shook her head, then reached for her purse. “Just go put that silly suitcase away, dear. Here, I’ll give you a few bucks, and you and your friend—uh, what’s your name, dear?”

  “That’s Cass, Mom. You’ve met her a dozen times.”

  “Oh yes, Cass. Anyway, maybe you two can go take in a movie or something.”

  Sara took the money, then scowled. “Mom, I already told you we think all movies are a sinful waste of both time and money.”

  Her mother laughed. “Oh well, whatever. You girls just go and have you some fun and let your poor father get some rest.”

  And so Sara left her bag sitting next to the stairway and we headed out to her car. “Do you want me to take you home?” she asked after starting the engine.

  I just shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m trying to decide if I should tell the Glenns about what happened last—”

  “That’s right!” She smacked herself in the forehead. “I almost forgot all about that stupid jerk friend of theirs trying to force you to—” She made a face then groaned. “Oh, Cass, it’s too gross to even think about! How’re you doing, by the way?”

  “Okay I guess. But I still feel kind of creepy about the whole thing. And kind of confused too. I mean, I know Jesus is healing my heart and everything but I wonder what I should do about it. Or maybe I shouldn’t do anything. I just don’t know.”

  And then to my embarrassment I started to cry again. Not that loud sobbing like last night but just silent te
ars running down my face. I looked down at my lap. “I just feel so—so stupid.”

  “Let’s go talk to Sky,” she said suddenly, throwing her car into gear. “He’ll know what to do.”

  I’d never been to Sky’s place before but I felt curious to see where our saintly leader actually lived. As it turned out it was rather disappointing. Just a trashed-out little trailer parked next to the railroad tracks.

  “Sky told me he’s taken a vow of poverty,” explained Sara as she parked next to an overflowing trash can. “And he thinks all worldly possessions are sinful.”

  “Wow,” I said, unsure as to whether I was impressed or just surprised.

  Sara knocked on the thin metal door and after about a minute Sky opened it. He looked rumpled and sleepy—and to my dismay, not terribly spiritual. “Huh?” he said. “What’re you two doing here?”

  “We need some advice,” said Sara, taking the lead as usual. “Can we come in, Sky?”

  He frowned slightly, then opened the door wider. “Sure, come on in. Welcome to my humble abode.”

  I tried not to stare at his stark, yet somewhat messy, habitat. I found it incongruous that this “together” spiritual leader lived in what appeared to be such a chaotic and shabby dwelling. So as not to judge him, I told myself it was only because he was serving God, not man, that his place was in such a state. And I focused my eyes on his large Bible and various other study books scattered throughout the room.

  “I’m not much of a housekeeper,” he said as he cleared a place for us to sit on a lumpy, mud-colored couch. Then he flopped down into an orange vinyl beanbag chair, mended with duct tape in the shape of a cross. “Now what can I do for you ladies?”

  “This is really about Cass,” said Sara. “She’s still pretty upset over last night, and she’s wondering what she should do about her living conditions at the Glenns. And I got to thinking on my way over here that she really shouldn’t return to that evil place. I mean, think about the drugs and alcohol and sex and who knows what else goes on there, in fact it wouldn’t surprise me if those horrible Glenns might not be secretly worshiping Satan. Cass says they actually listen to music from Black Sabbath and Grateful Dead—and we all know that’s the devil’s music.”

  Part of me wanted to defend the Glenns because despite all their flaws I didn’t really think they were Satan worshipers, but on the other hand, you just never knew. And Mrs. Glenn did seem to wear a lot of black…

  “And,” continued Sara, “I would consider having Cass come stay with me for a while, but my parents have really been picking on me lately because of my—my religious beliefs.” She turned to me. “Why, Cass even witnessed my dad persecuting me just today. So I don’t really think that’s an option either. In fact I came this close—” she held her thumb and forefinger together—”to just moving out of there myself today.”

  Sky nodded slowly, taking this all in as he rubbed the golden stubble on his strong, squared chin. Obviously he hadn’t shaved yet. Finally he spoke. “This is really interesting.”

  “Interesting?” I felt a bit confused.

  He smiled. “Well, lately I’ve been praying about this thing.”

  “This thing?” I leaned forward with interest.

  “Yeah. It’ll probably sound a little weird at first. But you see, about a week ago I had a vision.”

  “A vision?” I could hear the spark in Sara’s voice. “What kind of vision was it, Sky? Can you tell us?”

  “I wasn’t planning on telling anyone just yet—not until I knew for sure—but suddenly it’s all starting to make perfect sense.” He studied us both carefully, as if measuring us up, perhaps trying to determine whether we could be trusted with such precious and perhaps holy information.

  I attempted to appear as mature and spiritual as my sixteen and a half years and various life experiences could afford me.

  “Come on,” urged Sara. “Tell us.”

  He nodded with satisfaction. “Yes, I sense that the timing is right.”

  “Right for what?” I asked, suddenly wishing he wouldn’t be so mysterious but get straight to the point. Yet at the same time I silently chastised myself for my obvious impatience that reeked of immaturity. So I leaned back into the dusty couch and folded my arms, determined to play it cool. I wasn’t a child anymore.

  He smiled. “Well, about a week ago I got a letter from my grandma, my dad’s mom. She lives in California, out in the country, a little ways from Carmel. Anyway, she’s got advanced diabetes and is going blind and she’d heard that I was at ‘loose ends’ as she put it. She asked me if I’d consider coming out there and taking care of her and the place for a while. At first I thought no way, I can’t go out there when I’m needed here.” He looked imploringly at us. “I couldn’t just up and leave my little flock behind.” Then he frowned. “But about that same time we started getting all that flack from the newspaper. And at one point I thought we should just shake the dust from our feet and move on—we should just leave Brookdale behind and—”

  “Go to California?” said Sara eagerly.

  He nodded. “Yes, we could all go live on my grandma’s property in California. And then I could really teach and disciple everyone in the ways of our Lord. And we could grow our own food and take care of ourselves and—”

  “And no one would pick on us for our beliefs,” said Sara.

  “And we could live just the way that Jesus wants us to,” added Sky.

  Sara sighed. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful…”

  I wasn’t entirely sure what I thought. Quite honestly it seemed a little extreme and just slightly scary. “What about school?” I asked tentatively, instantly regretting my words when I saw their expressions.

  “School?” Sky sighed deeply. “Don’t you yet understand, little one, that the learning of man is mere foolishness to God?”

  “And besides, Cass, think about the kinds-of stuff they teach us in school,” added Sara. “Evolution and sociology and all sorts of ungodly things.”

  I nodded slowly, hoping to appear wise. Perhaps they were right about these things. “What about money?” I asked. “How will we support ourselves?”

  Sky smiled tolerantly at me as if he really believed I were a small child. “God will provide, Cass.”

  “That’s right,” said Sara with enthusiasm. “Like I just told my dad, God will take care of us.” She turned to me, beaming now. “Doesn’t it sound exciting, Cass?”

  I still wasn’t totally convinced, but when I considered my options they didn’t seem so hot either. I studied Sky carefully. “Do you really think this would work?”

  He chuckled and then held up his hands. “Where is your faith, little one? If God wants us to do this thing, then who are we to question his ways?”

  I nodded, a slow smile breaking onto my face. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to think it was possible for us all to go someplace safe and wonderful and live happily ever after. Maybe it could happen. “Actually it sounds pretty cool. I mean, it’d be nice not to have anyone telling me what to do—to be treated like a grown-up. But in some ways it just sounds too good to be true.”

  Sky nodded. “Isn’t that how God is? He seems too good to be true, but there is none truer—no, not one.”

  “Oh, Sky!” cried Sara. “When can we go?”

  “Let’s pray,” said Sky.

  So we all bowed our heads and prayed. Well, mostly Sky prayed, but Sara and I nodded our heads in agreement and we both said “amen” a lot and with enthusiasm. Sky asked that God would show us his divine and perfect will and lead us in the way that we should go. And when he finished Sky picked up his big Bible and flopped it open. I could tell by where the pages fell apart that it was the Old Testament (I was familiar enough with the Bible to know that much by now).

  Sky closed his eyes and plunked his finger down onto the page. Then he opened his eyes and read. And this is what he read:” ‘And I have said, I will bring you up out of the affliction of Egypt unto the land of the Canaanites,
and the Hittites, and the Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the Hivites, and the Jebusites, unto a land flowing with milk and honey.’ Exodus 3:17.”

  To be perfectly honest, when I heard all those names like the Jesubites and Parasites, well, I just didn’t fully get it at first. I thought maybe he’d gotten the wrong verse or something. But then Sky reread it, slowly this time, and leaving out all those something-ites parts, and suddenly it made perfect sense.

  “Listen,” he said, “I will bring you up out of the affliction of Egypt. Can’t you see that Egypt is just like Brookdale? We’re all in spiritual oppression here—just like slavery. And then it says that God will deliver us ‘to a land flowing with milk and honey.’ Don’t you see? That has to be my grandmother’s farm. We can raise our own milk cow and bees to make honey and we can grow our own food and everything. Doesn’t it all make perfect sense?”

  The next thing I knew we were all singing and marching around his tiny little trailer singing about how God was going to deliver us from the bondage of Brookdale. And that’s when I became totally sold out to Sky’s “vision.” At last we were going to be delivered—our troubles would all be over!

  Finally we all collapsed back onto the sofa, laughing so hard we were almost crying.

  “All right then, when do we go?” asked Sara with her usual eagerness.

  “As soon as God provides what we need for our trip,” said Sky.

  “What do we need?” I asked.

  “Well…” Sky grew thoughtful. “I have my VW bus and I think that’ll get us there. But I’m a little short on funds right now.”

  “I’ve got some money,” I piped up.

  “Enough to get us clear to California?” asked Sara skeptically.

  “Yeah. I think I’ve got about eight hundred dollars in my savings account.”

  “Wow!” Sky was impressed. “Where’d you get all that?”

  I grinned. “I guess God provided.”

  He gave me a high five. “Way to go, sis!”