by Robin Brande
Ms. Shepherd can be so weird sometimes. Like she said, a true freak of nature.
How could you not love her for that?
Twenty-five
“I was checking out some of the creationist websites last night,” Kayla told me when Casey and I were taking a break. “Get this. They say the Book of Job—”
She pronounced it “job”—as in flipping burgers. I told her it was a long o.
“Whatever. Anyway, there's some reference in there to beasts called ‘leviathan’ and ‘behemoth.’ The Christian militants are saying those things are really dinosaurs— trying to prove they were around with humans.”
Kayla shook her head in disgust. “Completely disregarding everything in the fossil record that proves man didn't come along until millions of years after the dinosaurs were already extinct. But I guess facts don't matter if you repeat the same lie often enough.”
I hated to start talking politics, because Kayla knows so much more than I do. Instead I stuck with what I know. “I always heard the leviathan was a crocodile. That's what the footnotes in my Bible say.”
Kayla's left eyebrow rose. “You actually read the footnotes in your Bible?”
“Only if it's something interesting. I know that section. You think they're describing a dragon or something, but then it's just a crocodile.”
Kayla squinted at me and nodded. “Interesting. You think you can get me some more stuff like that?”
“Like what?”
“You know, sort of a ‘Bible Girl fact check.’ “ Kayla smiled. “In fact, that's it. I'm gonna add you to my website.”
“Oh no, you're not.”
“Make you Bible Girl. Or maybe Grrrl. Sort of a superhero for truth.”
Now that part sounded appealing, but come on—me? No way was I sticking my neck out.
“I'm not an expert.”
“More expert than I am,” Kayla said. “All I know from the Bible is ‘do unto others.’ Isn't that one of the ten commandments or something?”
“Uh, no, it's something Jesus said.”
“See? Bible Grrrl—you're hot. You'd be totally anonymous.” Kayla clasped her hands and batted her eyelashes. “Please, baby, please, don't say no. Tell me you'll do it.”
“No.”
“Do what?” Casey came into Kayla's room holding a squirming Bear. He handed him over to me. “Your subjects await.”
“Mena's gonna write for the site.”
“No, I'm not.”
“What d'ya think? ‘Bible Grrrl, defender of truth in biblical citations.’ It'll be a bull-free Bible zone.”
“I don't know enough,” I continued to protest.
“More than anyone else here does,” Kayla said.
I was losing ground. “Can't you find someone else—”
“You should do it,” Casey told me. “As long as it won't interfere with our work.”
Kayla waved him off. “Of course it won't. Don't worry, you'll still get your precious A.”
“A double plus,” Casey corrected.
“You got it, super-geek. Mena, please. Just give me one thing—one big juicy thing that you know they're getting wrong. I know you know this stuff.”
“Well …”
Kayla grinned. “Grrrlll …”
So while the three of us tried to keep Bear from tearing into Kayla's papers, I quickly laid out the whole Jacob-and-the-speckled-sheep thing—about how even back in an cient Hebrew days, they knew about sexual selection and selective breeding for certain traits. Not huge, I admit, but still, it was something Kayla hadn't heard before.
Kayla picked up her phone and dialed the intercom. “Webmaster, please report to your beloved's room.” A few minutes later Josh came in carrying a printout of his latest creation: Gravity Is Just a Theory—Why Won't They Tell Us the Truth?
“What's up?” he asked.
Kayla pointed to me. “Bible Grrrl here needs her own section on the website.”
Josh didn't ask any questions. He just sat at Kayla's computer and started coding.
Casey and I went back to the yard to work.
The puppies are getting so big. It makes me kind of sad. Mrs. Connor says the owners will all be coming for them a week from Saturday. It seems like every day another puppy gets bought and named. Now bully-girl Pink is Maggie, Blue and Red are Shadow and Pluto, and little Christmas is Elsa. I don't know why they're changing her name. She'll always be Christmas to me.
Today we were trying a few of my experiments. While Casey played with the puppies in the yard, I hid behind one of the chairs and pretended to cry. We wanted to see which of the dogs would come check if I was all right.
Bear cared—or at least he cared enough to come over and clamp his little teeth down on my wrist to make sure I was still alive. Lily cared (in a soft, licky sort of way), and so did Christmas, Shadow, and White. The rest just went on playing.
Then while I distracted the puppies, Casey went off into the corner and put on an old Halloween mask—a big rubbery thing that made him look like a hideous freak— and he rushed out growling and scooped up two of the puppies and ran off with them into the house.
Pink/Maggie went right on chewing Duke's ear, Green and Bear kept fighting over a stick, four other puppies minded their own business, but Lily and Christmas ran right to the door to see if their services were needed.
How sweet. Make that two dogs with a serious hero complex.
But Casey explained why that was bad news. “See, in sociobiological terms, what we're really looking for is behaviors that help perpetuate the species. So if Abbey were out here and she was the one running after the stolen puppies, that would be good. It means she's trying to preserve her offspring so they can make puppies of their own someday.
“But if Lily and Christmas try to help their siblings, that's bad. Because really all they should care about is the fact that there are two fewer mouths to compete with for their mother's milk.”
“So what does that mean?” I asked. “Why is that bad? They were being nice.”
“Yeah, but it's not a good survival strategy. They need to be selfish.”
Which was a depressing thought. I'd rather have a sweet dog like Christmas than a selfish one like Pink.
But it did make me think about the whole Denny Pierce thing. Maybe Casey's right. Maybe trying to be nice to Denny was stupid. I interfered with my whole survival.
After a while Kayla summoned us back to her room. Josh pounded out a few more keystrokes, then rolled his chair out of the way so we could see.
Oh my gosh. My very own box, down at the bottom right of Kayla's page. It was only a little smaller than the one for Joshuwear. Across the top, in yellow, it read, Bible Grrrl Sez: and then there was space for some text.
It was so weird. I never thought I'd have a Bible column someday—let alone on the internet, where anyone could read it. If someone had predicted this last week, I would have thought they were on drugs.
“Can you say what you told me,” Kayla asked, “only make it shorter and jazzier?”
“I'm not sure. Let me think. You don't have a Bible around here, do you?”
Kayla snapped her fingers at Casey and said in a British accent, “Boy, bring us the old man's book, won't you?” Now I know where he got that accent thing.
It took a few minutes, but Casey finally returned, carrying a King James Version.
“Nice,” Kayla said, taking it from Casey and examining the chewed-up black leather cover. “Tell your puppies to show some respect.” She swatted Casey on the butt with the Bible.
“No!” I instinctively snatched the Bible from her hands.
Kayla gave me a funny look. “Sorry.”
I was kind of embarrassed, but also kind of right— you don't treat the Bible that way. “It's just that … um, you really shouldn't do that. It's … bad.”
Kayla held up her palms in surrender. “You're my Bible Girl Wonder. Whatever you say goes.”
Everyone was watching as I opened it and s
tarted flipping through Genesis. “Um, this will probably take a while.”
“Right,” Kayla said, heading for the door. “Need anything?”
“No. Thanks.”
“Okay, then, call me when you're ready.” She and Josh left the room. Casey stayed behind.
“You're really going to do this?” he asked.
“Why? You think it's a bad idea?”
“No, might be fun.” He settled onto his sister's bed and showed no intention of leaving. “Just be careful, you know?”
My heart beat a little faster. In part because he was talking so seriously for once, and in part because he sounded like he wanted to protect me.
“Careful of what?”
“K has a way of sucking people in. I like my sister— don't get me wrong—but just remember that this is her show, and we're all just extras.”
“So you think I shouldn't do it.”
“I think you should think about what's in it for you. That's all.”
He got up from Kayla's bed and left me to ponder that.
What's in it for me? Why do anything that might get me in deeper with this family?
I can think of a few reasons. And one of them had just left the room.
Twenty-six
When I finished my Bible Grrrl piece, I went looking for everyone else. Mrs. Connor was out in the backyard trying to keep the puppies from devouring their mother. Abbey was doing a pretty good job of that herself, growling and nipping at them every time they went in for a nipple. Her way of saying, “Switch to solids.”
I called for the others. Casey shouted, “Back here!” from the far end of the house, where he had told me his mother's office was.
I walked down the hall to the first open door and looked in. Mrs. Connor's office wasn't at all what I expected. The nice part about it is that one whole wall is just windows looking out on the garden. The sun comes right in, so you don't even need to turn on the lights. I could see Mrs. Connor sitting on the grass playing with Lily. It must be nice to be able to work at home and wear jeans and flip-flops if you want, especially if every time you take a break there are puppies around to play with.
The weird thing about her office is that for someone who makes such beautiful furniture, she really scrimped on herself. All she has in there is a drafting table, a stool, a small computer desk, and a long conference table covered in blueprints and drawings. Other than the stool and the little swivel chair in front of her computer, there isn't anyplace to sit down. It's like she doesn't want anyone coming in and getting too comfy. And unlike the rest of the house, there are no bookcases or books or pictures or anything personal. The whole room is kind of cold, which doesn't seem like Mrs. Connor at all.
I followed Kayla's laughter to the room next door. Now that was an office.
All leather and wood and books and paintings and clutter and comfort and warmth. That is where I'd love to spend my entire life.
“Hey, BG,” Kayla said. “Finished?”
I handed her the printout and sat next to Casey on the floor, our backs propped against the wall. Josh lay sprawled across the leather couch, his giant legs dangling over the end. Kayla had her own sprawl going across a wide leather armchair.
“Nice,” Kayla said when she finished reading. “You're hired.” She showed it to Josh, who barely glanced at it before going back to tossing a mini-beanbag over his head.
“We're brainstorming T-shirts,” Casey told me.
“Is this your dad's office?” I whispered. Casey nodded.
I was in a snooping mood. I pushed to my feet and started looking around.
“How ‘bout this,” Kayla threw out. “ ‘If God made Darwin, how can Darwin be wrong?’ “
Josh gave it an “eh.”
Silence descended again. The only sound was the wooden floor aching beneath my feet as I walked along the bookcases scanning some of the titles. Soon I came to the shelves holding Mr. Connor's books.
Casey joined me and pulled out one of the paperbacks. “That's a good one.”
“They're all good,” Kayla said, a little defensively.
On the cover were a man and a woman dressed in flight suits, like air force pilots. In the background was the spaceship they had crash-landed. Red Horizon, by Jack Connor.
“Wow. That's really cool,” I said. “How many did he write?”
“Thirty-nine.”
“Plus all his articles.” Kayla pointed to the bottom shelf, where there was a whole row of scientific journals.
“Was he … famous?”
“With some people,” Casey said. “The SF crowd— science fiction.”
“And the serious scientists,” Kayla said, again a little defensively. “He had a lot of crossover.”
Suddenly I understood that whole Science Brain thing Casey and his sister have going. I hope I don't have Insurance Brain. How sad would that be?
“You can read that if you want,” Casey said.
“No, I … wouldn't want to ruin it or anything.” I started to return Red Horizon to the shelf.
Casey stopped me. “We've got about eighty copies all over the house. Take it.”
“No …” But I saw the look on his face. And Kayla's. It was like some sort of a test. “Okay, sure. I'd love to.”
“Don't worry, no sorcerers,” Casey said. “Just bloody battles and dismemberments. I assume that's okay.” He gave me a little nudge with his elbow.
“Yeah, that's okay,” I answered way too seriously. My heart was beating too fast. All because of that nudge.
Pathetic.
Kayla arched her back over the chair and stretched her long arms wide. “I'm burnt. I need a break.”
Josh spidered his legs off the couch and the two of them headed for the kitchen.
Casey and I stayed behind.
“Sorry that took so long,” I told him. “Want to go back to work?”
“In a minute.” Casey plopped onto the couch and took over Josh's job of tossing the mini-beanbag above his head. I settled into the leather chair Kayla had left warm.
“So, how come you were all back here?”
“My mom lets Josh use it for his office when he's here. He's always helping my mom and K with their computer stuff, so …” The beanbag went astray. Casey retrieved it and went back to tossing. “Plus, my dad had this great computer and printer, so I guess my mom figures … I don't know. It shouldn't go to waste.” Abruptly he sprang to his feet. “Ready?”
“Um, sure.” I picked up Red Horizon and followed Casey back into the living room. “I don't have much time. Can we do something quick?”
Casey seemed glum—not something I'm used to from him. Not that I know him all that well, but usually he seems so up.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He crinkled his brow. “ ‘Course.” He slid open the glass door and joined his mother and the pack in the backyard.
Kayla came out of the kitchen chomping on an apple and carrying a box of crackers. Josh had a plate of spaghetti.
Kayla glanced at the clock. “Leave in about fifteen?”
“Sure.” I hadn't even asked her to give me a ride. I guess now it's just assumed.
“Little C doesn't like it in there,” Kayla said, jerking her chin toward the back offices. “Notice?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I think it's hard for him to see us moving on. Like we were supposed to make a shrine out of my dad's office or something. I mean, I miss the guy, but he's not coming back.” Kayla shrugged. She dug out a few crackers and alternated between those and the apple. “C's problem is he had this whole Gandalf fantasy going.”
“Who's Gan—”
“Oh, that's right,” Kayla said. “I heard—no Lord of the Rings. Crying shame, if you ask me. You really need to check out Aragorn.”
“Mm,” Josh growled. “Man-flesh.” Then went right back to seriously stuffing his face.
Kayla patted her boyfriend's leg. “Don't worry, honey, I'd never leave you for him.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Anyway, Gandalf dies and everyone's so shocked because we all thought he was invincible, but then it turns out he is, actually, and he reappears even more powerful than before.”
Kind of like Jesus, I thought but didn't say. I'd done enough Bible Grrrl work for now.
“Anyway, C would never have admitted it because he knows I would have stuffed his head down the toilet if he did, but I think a little part of him hoped for a while that one day dear old Dad would reappear, just like the White Wizard.” She shoved in three crackers at a time. “Poor little guy. Sad, huh?”
“Yeah.”
I didn't feel like being inside anymore. But mostly I didn't want to hear Kayla make fun of her brother for being an eleven-year-old kid who wished his dad would come back to life. I know she wasn't trying to be mean, but it made me feel extra sorry for him.
I joined Casey and Mrs. Connor and twelve sets of very sharp milk teeth out in the backyard. I sat down in the grass, and right away Christmas loped over to me and climbed onto my lap. Break my heart, why don't you? Then Bear noticed the injustice of a puppy other than him being the center of attention, so of course he had to come bite Christmas's ear. I rolled him onto his back and tickled his belly just to show him who was boss.
“Aren't we going to miss our babies?” Mrs. Connor said.
I didn't mean to, but I looked over at Casey the exact moment he looked at me, and I got this lump in my throat like I was going to cry. I quickly looked back at the puppies.
In a little over a week, the experiment will be over. No more afternoons at the Connors’.
It's really too dismal to think about.
Twenty-seven
The picketers turned up this morning. Twenty-three of them with signs like Let Our Children Hear the Truth and Only the Unintelligent Deny Intelligent Design and Darwin = Devil and other snappy slogans.
There were news crews, too, which is why Teresa and Adam and the other publicity hounds were marching right along with their parents. Teresa wore a Savior Self T-shirt and jeans that looked like they were compressing all her organs and cute pink high-heeled sandals that were obviously not built for hours and hours of picketing. But she only had to walk a few steps anyway before a reporter singled her out—she is hard to miss—so I guess Teresa's face will be on the news tonight, just like I'm sure she hoped.