21: Real Reality
BACK IN THE CELLAR, we were all panicking because of the dark. Especially Jessica, but it was mostly because of the
“SNAKES!”
that she screamed.
Of course, Mom did her Mom thing, trying to calm her. “Jessica, sweetheart, there are no —”
“They’re everywhere!”
“It’s just —”
“There’s one grabbing my arm! Get it off!”
“Jessica —”
She began slapping at it. “Get it off! Get it off!”
“Jess —”
“Another one’s grabbing my other arm!”
“Jessica!”
“Now it’s shouting into my face!”
“Jessica, it’s me! Mom!”
“And now it sounds just like . . .” Jessica stopped. “Mom?” She hesitated then reached out, feeling Mom’s face. “Is that you?”
“Mwiff, mweethart.” (Which is the sort of thing you say when your kid’s got her hands all over your mouth.)
“Why were you pretending to be a snake?” Jessica asked.
Before Mom could explain, Nick yelled from the top of the steps, “The fire is getting closer!”
“Shut the door!” Lisa shouted. “Don’t let the smoke down here.”
“Right,” Nick said. To the surprise of everyone, he actually did what his sister suggested.
If the cellar was dark before, now it was blacker than pepper on licorice at midnight. (And we’re not talking red licorice.)
Of course, we were all pretty freaked, which explains Mom doing another one of her Mom things. “Is everybody okay?” she asked.
We all weighed in:
“Yeah . . .”
“Sure . . .”
“I suppose . . .”
“OO-oo AA-ah EE-ee . . .”
But, just to be sure, Mom took roll call:
“Nick?”
“Here and looking great.”
“Lisa?”
She sighed. “Does he ever stop bragging?”
“Jessica?”
“You sure there’s no more snakes?”
“Stephie?”
“Present.”
“Julie?”
No one answered.
“Julie?”
Repeat in the no answer department.
“Honey,” Mom asked, “are you here?”
“Remember, she went up to the house,” Nick said.
“To use the bathroom,” Lisa added.
“By herself?!” Mom didn’t exactly gasp, but you could tell she was thinking about it.
“That’s what you told her to do,” Jessica said.
This time Mom did gasp. Without a word, she handed baby Al to Stephie and scrambled up the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Nick asked.
Lisa answered, “Where do you think, Einstein?”
“But the fire’s coming.”
“Like that’s going to stop her.”
Stephie called up to her, “Mom!”
But Mom was already throwing open the cellar door. For a moment we saw her silhouette flickering in the orange light, and then she was gone.
Janelle stood on Chloe’s balcony looking out over the smoke-filled valley. Night was settling in, and she was more worried than ever.
Chloe stepped outside to join her. She held one of her many VR headsets. “Sure you don’t want to play? They’re the latest, really cool, and, of course, real expensive.”
Janelle shook her head. “I’m good.”
“Still thinking about your family?”
Janelle glanced down at her cell phone. “Nobody answers. Not Mom, not Dad, none of the kids.”
“You’re really worried about them.”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“I don’t know,” Chloe sighed. “I suppose if I had a big family. Or one of them was a real hottie like your brother.”
Janelle rolled her eyes. (Chloe always had this thing for Nick.) “It’s not just the size of our family,” she said. “Or Nick . . . trust me, it’s definitely not Nick. It’s just . . .” Her voice dropped off.
“It’s just what?” Chloe asked as she slipped on her headset.
“It’s how we’re raised.”
“You mean . . . Christian?” Chloe shouted. (You’d shout, too, if you were being chased by a stegosaurus, a brontosaurus, and a couple of velociraptors.) “But you and me . . . we go to the same Christian school.”
“I know, but —”
“Augh!” Chloe yelled as she ducked one way then weaved another. “We pray and sit through the same boring chapels.”
“It’s more than school or chapel,” Janelle said. “It’s . . . I don’t know. For us it’s real. He’s real.”
“He?” Chloe asked. “You mean God?” She reached up and slipped off her VR headset. “I believe in God.”
Janelle nodded. “That’s a good start. But . . .” She hesitated.
“But what?”
“We don’t just believe in Him, you know, with our minds. We believe in Him here, too.” She tapped her chest. “With our hearts.”
“What do you mean?”
Janelle thought a moment. “It’s like . . . He’s always with us. Like He’s our best friend.”
“Weird,” Chloe said. She slipped her headset back on and shouted, “I’ve got plenty of best friends.”
“Right,” Janelle said, thinking about all Chloe’s wanna-be clones at school.
“And I’ve got this.” She tapped her headset. “You sure you don’t want to play?”
“No thanks.”
“Whatever.” Suddenly Chloe cried, “Since when do dinosaurs breathe fire?” She began running in place. “No way are you slimeballs catching me!”
Janelle gave a heavy sigh and looked back out over the valley. If God was her best friend, she figured now was a good time to start talking with Him.