If there was one thing he’d learned by working with teenagers, it was this: any job goes better when there’s pizza and soda involved.
Josh placed the box in the center of the table in the church conference room and suddenly, the heavenly scent of pepperoni and mozzarella filled the air. He couldn’t help inhaling slowly before he said, “Dig in, guys.” And then, at Jessica’s offended look, “And ladies.”
A small contingent of his youth group had volunteered to be the planning committee for tonight’s Youth Rally, and this was their final noontime meeting. All the major preparations were done now, it was just a matter of talking through their strategy, and making last-minute assignments for the big event.
Since its inception, the rally had been so popular that it quickly became a repeat occurrence—every year around this time, his youth group hosted it and invited teens from all over the city. It was a chance for young Christian teenagers to get together and talk about their lives, their faith and how the two intersect.
Josh shared his testimony about his walk with Christ, and God was always good—year after year, He opened hearts to the message, and kids made commitments to Christ. And this year, due to Mr. Seymour’s ultimatum, it was more important than ever for the Rally to be a success.
“So, Jessica, you’re in charge of the Welcome Table. They come there first, give you their name, and you give them their nametag. Brad, you’re responsible for setting up the food table, setting out all the donations from the parents. Luke, you help me with set up and tear down of the stage. Everyone helps with clean up. Anything else?”
Jessica suggested having Christian rock music playing in the background, so a lively discussion ensued about what CDs they could bring from home, and whose sound system was powerful enough to rise above the noise generated by about four hundred kids.
Josh smiled. It was their event—they should be able to add features they wanted. Besides, his thinking hadn’t been entirely straight lately. A certain youth’s mom had thrown him for a loop a few weeks ago, and he was still reeling from the surprise breakup. And the painful slice it had caused his heart.
He’d thought things were going well. Shows how much he knew about women. No wonder he was still single at thirty-five—and counting.
He tried to tune into the kids’ debate, but phased out again. Actually, he was glad it was Rally time of year again. Not only did the event always introduce Christ to many teens, but it lifted his own spirits as well. Besides, it was just what he needed to get himself out of his funk about the demise of his relationship with Regan. Josh knew prayer was effective—he’d seen that time and time again. It was the receiving part that was a little tricky. Over the years he’d tuned into the still, small voice that was God’s message to him. And he felt certain that God meant for he and Regan to be together. Unfortunately, Regan wasn’t listening, and he was beginning to think she never would. Probably the best thing to do was to give up on her completely.
He didn’t anticipate the sadness in his heart when he came to that realization. Or the heavy sigh that seemed to float, unbidden, from his mouth. But Jessica picked up on it. “You okay, Pastor Josh?”
“Yeah, Jess. Doin’ good.” She gave him a last dubious look, like she didn’t quite buy it. But she didn’t push.
The music selections made, Josh shook off the emotion and wrapped up the meeting. They tossed the empty pizza box and straightened the table. “You guys be here tonight for setup by six, the rest of the kids will be here at seven.”
The kids yelled their good-byes and flew out the door.
* * * *
Luke steam rolled past the el station without even realizing it. It didn’t dawn on him till he was three blocks past it. But by then, he was in a stride and decided to walk the whole way home anyway. It wasn’t that far.
Every time he thought about the Youth Rally he got more psyched. It was really cool when Pastor Josh asked him to be on the planning committee. Besides his best friend Brad, that cute girl from Armstrong High, Jessica, who he kinda/sorta had a crush on, made up the committee. A few hours in her presence planning the Rally had convinced him of two things: one, that he definitely would ask her out if she gave him even the slightest hint that she’d accept, and two, that she’d never, ever accept, because she was way too cool for a freshman dweeb like him, who’d sooner drool when she smiled at him, than know what to do if he was ever lucky enough to be on a date with her. Besides, she was a junior, and she probably had her pick of a gazillion guys at Armstrong.
Still, just being that close to a girl like Jessica was an education. He’d learned things that he never knew before, never having been that close to a real woman like Jessica. Like how she had bizarre little floral patterns painted on her fingernails. Or how she smelled so good, even when she still had her coat on, that when she took it off, her aroma just floated around the room. And, best yet, how she’d take out her wand of lip gloss and, right in the middle of everything, paint those beautiful lips of hers, propelling him straight into a fantasy about what else he wanted to do with those lips—like cover them with his lips.
Oh, and they’d also planned the Youth Rally, so despite the fact that he couldn’t ever hope for a date with a girl like Jessica, and the time spent in her presence only verified that for him, it was still a productive use of his time.
He rounded the block to his street and started the homestretch to his apartment, a few blocks away. All that thinking about Jessica made his thoughts wander to his mom and Pastor Josh. His mom in a dating relationship. Sure, it was weird at first, but Josh was a great guy, and his mom was so happy when she was with him. Luke liked to see his mom happy. She was a lot more fun when she had a smile on her face. Why didn’t she recognize that? Why did she break up with Josh when they had so many laughs together?
By the time he pushed his way into the front door of the apartment, he’d decided to invite her to the Youth Rally tonight. He had already mentioned it, so she knew he was going, but this time he’d let her know that he actually wanted her to be there. Thereby throwing her for such a loop that she might actually come.
It was hard being a teenage guy with just your mom around. He didn’t want the kids at school to think he was a sissy, because he spent most of his time with his female parent. So he worked extra hard to do what guys do—and not slip into any girl behaviors, thanks to his mom’s influence. Inviting his mom to his Saturday night entertainment, despite the fact that it was a church event, went against his grain. In fact, having her there meant that he’d have to put a check on his drooling over Jessica, secretly scoping her out and watching her every move.
But it was his mom’s best interests he had in mind, and he was willing to sacrifice a night of lusting. He suspected that if his mom and Pastor Josh spent some more time together, they’d forget about whatever it was that had broken them apart. In fact, Luke would want to turn cartwheels if his mom married Josh. How cool would that be?
So, when he arrived home, he made a beeline to where his mom sat in the main room (their apartment was so small it only consisted of that one room, in addition to the two bedrooms, a kitchen and a bathroom), reading from her latest stack of books.
He cleared his throat. Because he’d been giving her the cold shoulder ever since she’d broken up with Josh, and it had gotten a little frosty around here, he had to somehow clear the air between the two of them before he could get to the invitation.
“Mom?”
She looked up at him, and he could tell a relieved smile was hiding just under the surface, but she fought to hold it. Hey, he understood. She had her pride to keep intact, too.
Still standing in front of her chair—the closest proximity he’d been to her in over a week—he said, “How’s it going?” Not a brilliant conversationalist was he, but she was his mom, and he knew she’d appreciate the effort he was making. And hopefully reward it with an acceptance of his invitation.
“Good, Luke. How about you?” Her eyes shone, but she still waited before hitting him with her smile.
“Good.” Okay, now what? Jump into the invitation, or did he need to warm her up a little more? “It’s really cold out there.”
“Go figure. December in Chicago.” She smiled a little when she said it. He was so glad it was just Mom, and not a girl he was trying to impress with his witty small talk.
“I just got back from the planning committee for the Youth Rally.”
She tightened. The lines formed in her forehead and her mouth clamped a little bit. “Oh yeah? How’d that go?”
“Good. Real good. I think it’ll be fun.” No response from Mom after that one. “It’s tonight, you know. At seven.”
She nodded.
“I have to be there at six to set up.”
“Great, honey.” He was starting to lose her. She was sneaking peeks at the book on her lap again—probably an avoidance technique.
“Hey, Mom?” It came out sounding way more intense than he meant it, and she looked up at him again, startled—her eyes wide with surprise. He cleared his throat again and came over to the arm of her chair, leaning his body casually against it, hoping that his movements made her more relaxed. “Why don’t you come to the Rally tonight?”
“The Rally?” she echoed blankly.
“Yeah. I notice you’ve been reading the Bible more lately, and it would be cool for you to see all the kids there for a Christian event. It’s supposed to really charge you up. You’d probably like it.”
He held his breath silently without making any telltale changes in his stance. Quiet and casual on the outside, but inside he was doing a soundless countdown to fill the silence created by her hesitation.
Five, four, three, two …
“I don’t think so, honey.”
He must have been holding his breath because he suddenly blew some air through his lips. He felt like a balloon on fast deflate. “Why?” he said with measured control.
She turned her head in his direction and he thought he detected a little bit of fear in her eyes. What was she afraid of? Him?
“It’s a youth event, right? It’s for teenagers. You don’t want me there. You’d have a better time yourself if I stayed home.”
Fury shot to his brain as quickly as a cannonball expelling from a cannon. Parents! Who could figure them out? When he wanted to be alone, she was practically glued to his side! And now that he wanted her to be there—had actually invited her to be there with him, she did the exact opposite. He balled his fists at his side, trying to control the anger that was rising in him like a thermometer stuck inside a volcano. Of course, she noticed.
“What, Luke? What’s wrong?”
He took a breath and tried to get his irritation under control. “I invited you to go, and you said no. How do you expect me to react to that?”
She stood up and came around so she was facing him. “Well, not with your fists clenched and your face turning so red it looks like you’ll explode.”
He looked at his feet. He could never hide his emotions because they showed up immediately in the form of cheeks the color of a fire engine.
“Look, sweetie,” his mother began. Luke knew he flinched because he hated it when she called him stuff like that. He wasn’t four anymore, after all. “I think I know what this is all about.”
Luke looked away. If she guessed it right, then he was convinced. Obviously he was so transparent she could see right through him.
But she went on, “You liked it when Josh and I were together as a couple, right?” She waited for an answer, but he didn’t give her one. “And you think that if I go to that Rally tonight, I’ll see Josh, and we’ll work it out.”
Wow, that was amazing. If he weren’t so angry, he’d probably be impressed.
“But that’s not going to happen, honey. Not right now, anyway. There are some things Josh and I need to work on, before we’d ever be right for each other.”
The last thing he wanted to hear was his mother’s relationship problems. If she wanted to screw up her life, let her. But she had to take Josh down with her. It just wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. The more he thought about it, and the more she went on about the changes she was trying to make and blah, blah, blah, the more he knew he couldn’t take it anymore. When he opened his mouth, furious words rushed out like a tidal wave, their power surprising even him.
“Whoa! You don’t get it, Mom! I don’t care about your dating problems. I don’t care who you see, and who you don’t see. You can be miserable for the rest of your life, for all I care. All I was trying to do was invite you to the Youth Rally. That’s it. But it’s obvious that you aren’t interested. So, fine!”
She started to argue, but he straight-out couldn’t take it anymore, so before she could get another word out, he grabbed his coat that he’d tossed over the kitchen chair and shrugged into it.
“I’m outta here,” he announced and flew out the door. The slam felt good, he had to admit. And the fact that his mom didn’t race after him and insist that he come back and talk about it calmly, meant she recognized he had a point. Normally, she’d never let him get away with stuff like that.
Or maybe he’d just exited so quick she didn’t have a chance. Whatever. He sped from the building with no particular destination in mind. All he knew was, he couldn’t stand being in the tiny little apartment anymore, not when his mom had made him feel like putting his fist through a wall. He needed to cool down before tonight’s Rally. But, where?
He thought about going to Brad’s, but he’d just seen Brad at the planning meeting. And as for the rest of the kids at his school, he really had no idea where they lived. Actually, there was only one other person he even knew in the city, at least well enough to know where he lived.
He made a 180 and walked back two blocks to the el station. He bought a token, pushed through the turnstile and hung out on the platform, waiting for the train. He should probably call his dad to see if he was home before just dropping in on him. But he didn’t have a cell phone. And besides, so what if he wasted a trip across town? He didn’t have anything else to do, anyway.
About a half hour later he got off the train at Hermitage Avenue and walked a few blocks to his dad’s place. At the front door, he hesitated. Knock? Something didn’t seem right about that. And yet, he knew his dad’s girlfriend, if she were there and she always seemed to be, would throw a fit if he just walked in like he owned the place.
It was weird the things he had to think about now that his parents were divorced.
He rang the doorbell and waited. The door promptly pushed open.
“Hey, champ!” his dad boomed. He stepped aside, making room, and motioned him in. Luke squeezed past him into the foyer. “Great to see you. Was it my day today?”
He rescued his dad, since he looked so confused. “No, Dad. I just thought I’d come over for a visit. Is that okay?”
“Of course it is, big guy. Come on in. I love having you over.”
Luke followed him into the living room and sat down. He looked around and couldn’t help noticing how immaculate everything was. It looked sort of like a museum, only missing the signs that said, “DON’T TOUCH.” Not a dust particle in sight—not a thing out of place. Not exactly like his and Mom’s place. In fact, it was the polar opposite.
His dad dropped into a chair across from him and stared at him, rubbing his hands together. “So bud, how’s school going?”
“Good.”
“Good, good. Bet you’re getting straight A’s, huh?” His dad was smiling real broad like he was expecting good news. It kind of made Luke feel bad that he didn’t have any to give him.
“Uh, no. But nothing below a C.”
“Oh.” His dad looked down at the floor. About twenty seconds of silence ticked away, then he tried again, “You trying out for any sports this season?”
He didn’t mean to squint at his old man, but that’s exactly the expression that appeared, uncontrolled, on his face. Sports? Since when did he ever do winter sports? He’d made a total fool out of himself the last time he’d played basketball, and he’d quit that in the seventh grade. “No, Dad.”
“Oh, okay.”
It was so quiet in the room Luke could hear the steady tick-tick-tick coming out of the grandfather clock in the corner of the showroom. Er, living room.
His sigh came out a little louder than he’d meant it, and his dad’s head shot up, in his direction. “You want something to drink, buddy?”
Luke shook his head. And put his brain in gear. He’d better think of something to say, and quick, or else it appeared that his dad would self-destruct in another fifteen minutes. He might as well get into the big decision he’d made on the train on the way over here. He wasn’t sure how his dad was going to take it, but it was worth a try. “Dad?”
“Yes!”
His dad said it so loudly, Luke jumped in his chair. He cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking that I want to move in here with you. You know, live here full-time, and visit with Mom every once in a while. Like, switch it around from the way it is now, how I live with Mom, and only see you now and then.”
His dad was stunned, that was for sure. Either that, or an animal had come up and bitten him from behind, leaving him paralyzed. The man didn’t move.
“Dad?” His dad’s face was frozen, his eyes a little wider than normal. He sat absolutely motionless. Was he breathing?
Monique’s voice came strained and tense from out of the room. “Rick! Can I see you in the kitchen, please?”
So, he wasn’t paralyzed after all, because he practically jumped to his feet and raced out of the room, throwing a “Be right back, son” over his shoulder. Soon, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of an uncomfortable conversation one room over. Harsh words, with a filter. His dad and Monique both trying to get their points across while keeping the volume down, for his sake. Did they think he was an idiot? He could tell they were fighting over the bombshell he’d just dropped on his dad. And it was obvious that Monique was the one who was dead-set against the idea.
His heart sunk, knowing that he’d have to go back home and deal with his mom. It wasn’t really that he was unhappy there, and wanted to live with his dad. He was just mad at his mom for breaking it off with Josh, and this seemed like a good idea at the time, while he’d been sitting, bored, staring into space on the el train.
The arguing continued and every once in a while, Luke heard a loud pound. His dad was probably slamming his fist down on something to make his point. He always did that when he was married to Mom. Maybe his dad felt strongly about Luke living there. Maybe he’d fight for Luke.
Then, the unmistakable click-click-click sound of girly shoes on tile, followed closely by a distant slam. His dad returned to the room, his face red, his breath coming in heavy puffs. He lowered himself slowly into a chair and steepled his fingers in front of him. His eyes remained firmly on some point in front of him. There was no indication that he even knew Luke shared the same space with him, until he spoke. “I don’t think so, buddy. It’s not going to work out.”
It shouldn’t have surprised him. He’d suspected as much. But it still came like a punch in the gut.
“Why?” It came out sounding like a squeak, which embarrassed him in front of his old man.
“Monique’s not going for it. I’m sorry, bud. When you’re older, you’ll understand why.”
Luke didn’t get it. There must be more. He waited, expecting something—anything else from his dad in way of explanation. But after waiting a full minute or so, there was nothing. All that emanated from his dad was a heavy silence.
He probably shouldn’t have said it. At least, he figured it out later that it was definitely a bad idea. But at the time, sitting there in the living room with his speechless dad, he couldn’t have stopped the words from coming for anything in the world: “So, you’re choosing her over me, Dad? I want to live with you, and she doesn’t want me to. So, that’s it? You automatically pick her?”
A storm brewed quickly and overtook his father’s face. His expression tensed and the lines in his forehead popped out. His skin tone turned crimson and his lips curled back to expose his gritted teeth. Luke had seen it many times before. It was the same fury he’d seen directed at his mother a hundred times when they were married, and a couple dozen times at him, too. Usually followed by screaming, yelling, throwing and/or pounding. What was he thinking? Why had he come here? He should’ve known better.
Jumping to his feet, the only idea that made sense to him was to get out of there. And fast. He ran across the room but before he was even halfway across the floor, the bellowing started.
“Luke! Stop right there!”
He kept running and would’ve reached the door, too, except a huge hand circled his arm and squeezed, halting any progress. Probably stopping all blood flow through his upper arm, too. His dad pulled him closer, his face just inches from Luke’s. “What’s going on with you? Where are you going?”
He felt trapped. Escape was the only thing on his mind. Get out, go back. Go where he was wanted, where he was loved. He may not agree with everything his mom said or did, but he never doubted where her priorities were. She put him first, always.
He tried to calm down and say in a nothing’s-wrong-with-me sort of tone, “I gotta get going, Dad. I just remembered a test I need to study for.” A pathetic attempt, even to his own ears.
The grip loosened, but his dad still held on. “Sit down, son.”
He wanted to. He wanted to just forget that he’d issued his pitiful request, and that his dad and Monique didn’t want him around. In fact, if an alien could swoosh in here and erase the last minute or two completely from his memory, it would be a good thing. Rewind and replay. Give him the chance to get it right this time.
He sat, reluctantly. His dad let go of him and he swallowed the strong urge to fly for the door. He looked down at his feet, and he could tell that his face was beet-red in his embarrassment.
“What’s going on, son? You unhappy with your mom?”
Luke shook his head.
“Then why did you come here asking to live with me?” His father’s voice was softer than he was used to.
“I don’t know.” It was true—he didn’t. He had no idea what insanity had possessed him, but he knew now that it was a mistake.
There was silence for a short moment, and Luke was hoping that his dad would let it pass. Let him slink away in his mortification and never bring it up again. Just forget it. And he may have, if Monique hadn’t been hanging around, standing right behind the wall leading into the kitchen, listening to every word they were saying.
“He isn’t living here!” It was a distinct statement issued from a short distance away.
Luke’s head swung in its direction. In a flash, his dad stood up and darted towards her. He turned his head as he moved and jabbed a finger in the air, towards Luke. He knew the motion—it was a stay-right-there movement that he’d seen throughout his childhood. Dad’s orders, not to be ignored.
Then, the yelling started. Dad was laying into her, not even trying to keep it quiet this time. No strained whispers now. Soon, an all-out war had erupted, and Luke still sat, ill at ease in the living room.
Suddenly, he was up, sensing his escape, out the door. They could fight and scream over him if they wanted. He was outta there.
He ran down the front steps, leaving the door of the townhouse ajar in his haste to flee the scene. All his eyes could see was his fast break. He sprinted across the tiny yard, over the thin line of sidewalk and into the street, heading toward the train station, his escape back home.
But he never made it there. The screeching of angry rubber against icy blacktop intercepted his journey. A whoosh of hot wind swept past his face, and then his body jolted—airborne now, his feet had left the ground, he was flying through the air in a sickening voyage. He bounced off the hood of the oncoming car. His head collided with the windshield. A desperate shout sounded—fear permeated the air.
The last thing he remembered was the warm, salty taste of blood on his tongue, and his body dropping, headfirst into darkness.