Home: Part 38

What follows is a work of fiction. Nothing here is either true or relevant. Read at your own risk. Expect nothing, and that's exactly what you'll get. Oh: This could go on for a while.

January 1958

I stood alone at the top of the steps that led to two large wooden doors. The doors were opened, and inside an old man with a patch over one eye smiled and beckoned me forward. "Welcome!" he said. "Are your parents already inside?"

"Yes," I said. "And my sister," I added.

He reached out to shake my hand. "Welcome!" he said again. He let my hand go and rested a gray, wrinkled hand on my shoulder, guiding me inside and out of the snow. "Come on inside and get out of the cold. 

"Thank-you," I said. I followed the people ahead of me. The pews were nearly full, and I could see neither Cindy nor Terry in the crowd. I found a seat in the back, pulling one of the hymnals from the back of the pew in front of me. I leafed through the pages and hoped that nobody would talk to me. My parents had taught me so little about god and church that I did not know what to do or what to expect. I knew that my wool coat was too warm and my dress shoes were too tight, and for a moment I considered retracing my steps and simply waiting outside until my sister and her boyfriend found me.  Soon enough, though, Cindy tapped my shoulder from behind. 

"Why are you in the back?" my sister asked. 

"I see better from here," I said.

"Sure, you do. Terry and I are up front. Come sit with us."

I shook my head. "I'm comfortable here."

She sighed and looked annoyed. "This is good for you, you know. I'm going to talk to Mom and Dad about making you go to Sunday school, too."

"I don't want to go to Sunday school," I said.

Her face softened. "You'll like it. You'll learn about things you never imagined. Come on. Sit with me and Terry."

Acquiescing, I emitted my own sigh, struggled to stand, and followed her to the front of the sanctuary. She made me sit between her and Terry, who looked at me in a way that let me know my being there was not his choice. "Just do what everyone else does," he said. "Stand when we stand, sit when we stand."

"He's not stupid," Cindy said to Terry. She turned to me. "You'll be fine." She seemed happy, and I sat and waited.