Small Town Sinners

by Melissa Walker

  Dean, Ty, and I head down the hallway toward Tessa’s room. We passed a Coke machine before, and we stand in front of it now. Ty takes out a dollar bill and presses it against the corner of the machine to get it flat before he tries to put it in the slot. It gets rejected once but some more flattening works, and he presses the Sprite button.

  When he opens the can, the noise echoes loudly in the hall. He leans back against the cream-colored wall and takes a sip.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have come,” Dean says. “It’s my fault, it was my idea. And then I went on and on about the blood—ugh! I’m so stupid!” He looks down at the floor.

  “It’s not your fault,” I say. “I’m the one who brought up the blood in the first place. It’s just that when you look at Tessa’s face, she seems like her old self. It’s like you forget—”

  “You forget that she’s pregnant,” Dean finishes for me.

  “I think she wants to forget,” Ty says. “But she won’t be able to. Probably not ever.”

  I lean against the wall next to him. Our hands are so close that I can feel the heat between us, and I blush at how easily my thoughts wander to kissing him. The girls who are in here felt this kind of heat too, and I understand how it can carry you away a little.

  I imagine that we’re all thinking about our own lives, and how our experiences relate to what Tessa’s feeling right now. Can anyone ever see the world in any other way but through their own personal lens?

  After about twenty minutes, Starla Joy and Tessa come down the hall toward us. Ty, Dean, and I look up expectantly, unsure of what emotion is going to greet us from the Minter girls. They’ve got their arms around each other, and Tessa is leaning on Starla Joy’s shoulder. For the first time, in this moment, Starla Joy looks like the older sister.

  When they get close, Tessa lets go of her sister and turns to me for a hug. “Lacey, I’m so glad you got the part,” she says, opening her arms.

  “Thank you,” I say, wrapping her up as close as she can get with her stomach in the way. “That means a lot. I think of you every time I—”

  And then I stop, realizing that I’m telling her I think of her while I act out having an abortion. It’s like I am totally oblivious today.

  “It’s okay,” Tessa says, leaning back from our hug and giving me a grin, like she thinks it’s funny that I just put my foot in my mouth again. But she doesn’t start crying. In fact, her smile looks more genuine right now than it has all day.

  Tessa moves around me to give Ty a kiss on the cheek, and then she pulls Dean in for a hug too. He pats her back awkwardly, looking so uncomfortable that I almost want to laugh, but I don’t.

  “Truly, thank you guys for coming,” Tessa says. “It means more than you’ll ever know.”

  “Meet you guys at the car?” Starla Joy says. “I just want to say good-bye to my sister real quick.”

  “Sure,” says Ty, and he leads us past Dottie, giving her one more princely hand peck before we walk out into a gently falling rain. We stand by the truck, without keys or umbrellas, getting wet.

  Dean pulls on his hood. We’re still not sure we should’ve come. But when Starla Joy walks out a minute later, her grin is as big as Texas.

  She presses the unlock button on the keys and we settle into our seats. Before she starts the engine, Starla Joy turns around to all of us.

  “Thank you,” she says. “That was the first honest conversation I’ve had with my sister in forever.”

  “Really?” I ask. “And it was because of us?”

  “Well …,” says Starla Joy.

  “Was it the blood description?” Dean asks. “Did that make her face the reality of birth?”

  “No,” says Starla Joy. “That was actually pretty awful of you guys.”

  “No kidding!” Ty says. “You were rambling while Tessa turned as white as a ghost.”

  “Hey!” I say. “You were just sitting there.”

  “Yeah, sitting there horrified!” laughs Ty.

  We all start to relax now that we know the visit was a good thing overall.

  “So what did get Tessa to open up to you?” I ask.

  “The fact that my mom wasn’t there,” says Starla Joy. “Tessa’s so afraid, but she told me she feels like she needs to be strong when Momma’s around and act like it’s not really happening, like she’s a normal high school senior who just got waylaid for a few months.”

  “Is your mom in denial?” asks Ty.

  “Big time,” says Starla Joy. “She doesn’t even like it when I allude to the baby or Tessa’s being at Saint Angeles. She just pretends like Tessa’s away on vacation or something and she’ll be home again soon.”

  “Wow,” I say.

  “Yeah,” says Starla Joy. “I didn’t really think about it before, but I realize now it’s my mom who’s making the ‘it’s all normal’ charade important. Tessa’s just going along with it to keep the peace. But she’s really afraid.”

  “I could see that,” I say.

  “I think Jeremy’s visit opened her up a little too,” Starla Joy says. “She was pretending it didn’t matter that he hadn’t come, but now she doesn’t have to do that anymore, because he did show up. He even told her he was going to come to the hospital when she goes into labor. He talked to his parents about it and they said the car would be his when he needs it.”

  Starla Joy looks at me as she talks about Jeremy.

  “That was really great of your dad,” she says.

  I nod, making a mental note to somehow ask Dad about all this.

  “It’s good Tessa got to talk to you,” Dean says.

  “What else did she say?” asks Ty. “I mean, about the baby and stuff.”

  Starla Joy looks at him and gnaws on her bottom lip a little, like she’s not sure it’s okay to tell us what her sister expressed. But then she does anyway.

  “It was really surprising,” Starla Joy says. “She’s scared, of course. She’s also glad she’s giving the baby to a family who’s been wanting a child for a long time—Saint Angeles set up the adoption.”

  “That’s so great,” I say.

  “Yeah,” says Starla Joy. “But all that I knew already.”

  She looks at Ty, then at Dean, and finally at me. We all stay quiet, knowing there’s more to come.

  Starla Joy bites her lip again and takes a breath. “She also told me she’s glad she didn’t play Abortion Girl this year—that she wouldn’t want the role.”

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “She’s not really sure if she believes abortion is wrong anymore,” says Starla Joy.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  On the four-hour drive back home, Starla Joy explains the details of what Tessa said to her in the Saint Angeles den. Tessa is calling herself “pro-choice and anti-abortion.” Ty says he gets that right away.

  “But that means she thinks women should have the right to kill their babies if they want to,” Dean says.

  “I don’t understand,” I say. “I thought Saint Angeles was a Christian home.”

  “It is,” says Starla Joy. “I think Tessa talked to a lot of the girls in there, and they all come from different places. There was one who’d been abused by her own father, and that’s why she’s there.”

  I gasp. “Really?” I ask.

  “That’s sick,” says Dean.

  “I know,” Starla Joy says. “And that girl wanted to get an abortion, but her family would hate her forever—even more than they do now, I guess. You guys know Tessa. She just sympathizes and empathizes with everyone. And even though she knows abortion would be wrong for her, she thinks it should be everyone’s individual choice.”

  “But that abuse situation is an extreme case,” says Dean. “Even then, I don’t like that choice. It’s a life that’s been created by God. Right?”

  “Right,” I say, but my voice is quiet. That must be a terrible situation to be in.

  “I don’t know,” Starla Joy says. “I got kind of confused too, just listening
to her. She just thinks that it’s a good thing to be able to make your own choice, I guess.”

  “The choice to have an abortion?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” says Starla Joy.

  “They do have a choice by law, and I agree with that,” Ty says. “Tessa realizes that although she hates the thought of an abortion, it’s a choice that some people make.”

  “Ty Davis, are you a closet liberal?” asks Starla Joy.

  “I’m not anything,” Ty says. “I just have some thoughts that aren’t the same as my parents’ thoughts.”

  He looks at me.

  “I have my own thoughts,” I say defensively. “But excuse me if it still surprises me that Tessa’s in favor of abortion.”

  “Listen harder, Lacey,” Ty says. “Tessa’s not in favor of abortion. But she does believe in choice.”

  I sit back, silent for most of the rest of the discussion. It isn’t that I’m ignoring my friends. In fact, I am listening very, very closely. But all these ideas are jumbled in my head and I’m not sure how to sort them out. I can’t get past the notion that Tessa would be okay with abortion, however she explained it.

  We return to West River around six, and when I get to my house Mom is just about to serve dinner. It seems like she didn’t even notice that I’m home pretty late for having left so early in the morning. I don’t have to think of an excuse, I just go upstairs to wash up and then come to the table.

  Dad emerges from the computer in the living room and we all sit down and hold hands for grace.

  “Lord, thank you for bringing this food to our table so we may enjoy time as a family and the sustenance of you, our God,” he says. “Thank you for Theresa’s fabulous lasagna tonight, and for the cattle who gave us this meat sauce. Thank you for our always sympathetic and caring Lacey, and thank you for helping her to see where the limits lie, for her own well-being. In Jesus’s name we pray. Amen.”

  I want to talk to him about Tessa, and about how he sent Jeremy to her and maybe helped her open up a little bit today. But the prayer that Dad said makes my chest tighten, and I take a few deep breaths so I won’t scream. I also don’t think Dad would like to hear about Tessa’s new thoughts on abortion. And my head is still swirling, so I stay quiet and let Dad go on and on about tonight’s rehearsal.

  I’m still thinking about his grace, and our hurried dinner, as I walk into the House of Enlightenment. Tonight is our first full-on dress rehearsal, complete with all of Dean’s props at “go” so we can test them out. Starla Joy isn’t here yet, but Dean and I sit together right up front.

  “How are you?” I ask.

  “After meeting Dottie and the girls and hearing about Tessa’s new politics?” he asks. “Absolutely sure that I’m not having sex until marriage.”

  I swat his arm and laugh.

  We quiet down as Pastor Frist approaches the podium with a mile-wide smile. “Friends, Youth Leaders, tonight we have a very special guest with us,” he says. “You know of Pastor Tannen, who is studying our Hell House and considering his own production for next year.”

  We all nod in recognition—Pastor Tannen’s name is famous in the evangelical world.

  “He wants to learn why Hell House is such an awesome outreach that has the devil on the run,” continues Pastor Frist. “And this week, he’s here with us to watch the final seven days of refining before our big shows over Halloween weekend!”

  A tall man with a tuft of white hair and a strong stance, despite his age, joins Pastor Frist at the podium—it’s Joe Tannen himself. I hear excited titters in the pews. I wonder why he chose our church to visit?

  “Hello, House of Enlightenment,” says Pastor Tannen, his voice booming even more than Pastor Frist’s always does.

  “Hello!” the church answers back enthusiastically in the call-and-response instinct that takes over when we’re in the sanctuary.

  “I’ve heard tell of a world-class Hell House right here in West River,” he says. “And I had to see it for myself!”

  “Woo-hoo!” shouts Jeremy Jackson. Everyone laughs and Pastor Tannen smiles too.

  “You may wonder why I’m not tending my own sheep in Oklahoma,” he says. “Well, I decided to let my fellow pastors handle it so that I could take a sabbatical.”

  A low, questioning rumble moves through the crowd.

  “Now, now,” says Pastor Tannen, waving his hand to quiet everyone. “I’m only traveling for a few weeks, but I’ll tell you what.” He pauses briefly in the way that pastors do. I’ve always been impressed by their skill at emphasizing meaning with that powerful pause. Dean once said it reminded him of the way wrestling announcers take a breath before shouting out “Wild Willie Wogan!” or whatever.

  Pastor Tannen continues, louder than before. “I believe it’s God’s will that I’m here in West River, to watch this Hell House and gain inspiration to create just as powerful an outreach with my own congregation back in Oklahoma!” he shouts. He does kinda sound like a wrestling announcer.

  A cheer erupts in the pews, and a few people stand up to clap.

  I look over at Dean, who’s glowing with excitement. Everyone is. Laura Bergen is listening to Pastor Tannen almost as if he’s an older version of Jesus.

  I wish I could be thrilled with this moment too, but I’m still caught up in my own thoughts—about Tessa, about Ty, about the experiences I haven’t had, the things I haven’t seen. Is it okay to not know what I believe?

  Pastor Tannen speaks for five more minutes and then he leads us in personal prayer. I stay quiet tonight, and I don’t feel guilty about it. It’s like my own meditation among all the yelps and high shrieks. Just because I’m not screaming doesn’t mean I’m less connected to God.

  When I get into the nursery for the full rehearsal, I have to catch my breath. It looks like a real hospital room. The bed that adjusts up and down is waiting for me, made with white sheets that will soon be covered in blood. There’s an IV that I have to tape to my arm, and there’s even a machine next to the bed—the one that goes beep, beep, beep along with your heart. When I die at the end of the scene, it’ll flatline into that eerily long beeeeeeeeep.

  I change into one of those hospital gowns—this one has little flowers all over it—but I still wear pajamas underneath. We’re not getting that realistic. As I climb up on the table, I see my dad come into the room.

  “Lacey, have you seen Starla Joy?” he asks.

  “No,” I say. “Maybe she’s just helping her mom or something. I’m sure she’ll be here.”

  “Okay,” Dad says. “I wanted her to take Pastor Tannen through—she’s our best Demon Tour Guide—but I’ll put him with Jeremy.”

  I nod.

  He smiles and winks at me, and I smile back. Part of me wants so badly for us to share this Hell House, to be devil and daughter like I pictured when I first got this role. Plus I’m so grateful to him for sending Jeremy to Tessa. But the other part of me knows that our relationship is changing.

  I sit back on the reclining bed, which is mostly in an upright position. Abortion Girl watches as the hamburger meat gets taken from her womb. I think about the girl Tessa mentioned, with her own father’s baby. My stomach tightens.

  Randy Miller and Laura Bergen are in costume, and he’s turning on the beeping machine while she tapes the IV to my arm and fastens some tubes to the backs of my thighs—those are for the fake blood.

  “Ready?” she asks.

  “Yup,” I say, taking a deep breath.

  We sit there, silent and poised, for a couple more minutes.

  Then I hear Jeremy outside, getting closer. The first two scenes are over and he’s leading Pastor Tannen and some other VIPs down the hallway. I can make out his voice, growling the lines I heard Starla Joy say just a few days ago.

  “You’ve seen movies and read books about young love,” he says, his tone gritty and hard, sounding even more eerie since it’s muffled by the door. “I want you to believe in that! I want you to believe in that feeling, that rush
of sick pleasure that goes through your body when you’re touched by impure thoughts!” He’s yelling now, really getting into the demon state.

  “Are you ready to see the slut? Are you ready to witness a whore making a choice?”

  He’s talking about me. I mean, not me. But for a moment I am this girl, lying on a hospital bed and scared out of my mind, being judged by everyone around me and subjected to this physical torture. I try to remember how Ty told me this isn’t what an actual abortion is like. There’s not this much blood. It’s not this intense. I’m in a play. It’s a show. It’s not real.

  The door swings open and I see Pastor Tannen’s face. He’s beaming at me. I also see Pastor Frist. And my father. “It’s my choice!” I scream dutifully. “It’s my choice!”

  “That’s right,” Jeremy says, rasping and snarling. “Kill your baby. Sin and belong to me! It’s your choice.”

  He hisses, and I feel myself start to cry. It’s involuntary—and every time I try to catch my breath and calm down, another sob chokes my throat. Tears stream down my cheeks and blur my vision.

  Randy Miller is opening my knees and reaching under the sheets, where the hamburger meat is hidden. I feel a cold spurt of wetness, and I realize that Dean’s fake blood is running down my legs now. I see a splat of the clumpy blood drop to the floor as Randy Miller lifts the burger baby up from between my legs and throws it into a trash can next to the bed.

  I’ve rehearsed this scene dozens of times. But now, with the props and the blood and the smiling bobble-headed faces of Pastor Tannen and Pastor Frist and my father and Jeremy sneering in front of me, I watch the room start to spin. I still haven’t gotten control of my sobbing—my breath is coming out in short spurts. Jeremy is laughing maniacally and clapping his hands in evil glee—my sin has made me the devil’s property. Randy Miller grins warmly at me and says, “That’s it, miss. You’ve made your choice.”

  And then everything goes black.