Beyond Reach

by Melody Carlson

  “Sounds like fun.” Mom smiles. “Are you going to the dance with Conrad?”

  “Well, he hasn't exactly asked me yet. He's so busy with basketball…but I assume he will.”

  “I remember a Valentine's dance when I was your age,” she says wistfully. “All I wanted was for Brad Miller to ask me. I dreamed about it, planned it, strategized, and eventually I got my best friend, Bonnie, to drop lots of hints. I even had a dress all ready for the big night. It was hot pink satin and white lace with these big shoulder pads.” She laughs. “I'm sure it would look just hideous nowadays.”

  “So did Brad ask you to the dance?”

  She folds her arms across her chest and shakes her head. “I really thought he was going to. Right up until a couple of days beforehand. But he asked Bonnie instead—apparently she did more hinting for herself than she did for me.”

  “Seriously? Did she really go with him?”

  Mom nods. “She sure did.”

  “Was she still your best friend after that?”

  Mom chuckles. “Not for a few days.”

  “So did you even get to go to the dance?”

  “Actually, I did.”

  “Who asked you?”

  She looks slightly embarrassed. The truth is I asked him.”

  “Who?”

  “Your dad.” She tosses me a smirky smile.

  “No way!”

  Mom starts laughing. “It's true. I was the first one to break the ice between us. He was a senior, I was a junior, and he was awfully shy, but I thought he seemed nice. I had geometry with him. And I thought, What the heck? Why not?”

  “So did you guys start dating regularly after that?”

  “It was sort of off and on. It wasn't until he went away to college the next fall that he really started thinking about me. We started writing letters, and by Christmas we were going steady.”

  “That's so sweet,” I tell her. “I never even knew that before.”

  Mom grins. “See, I had a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “By the way, are we still going shopping on Saturday?” I ask, almost afraid that she might've forgotten our plans.

  She nods. “I told them I wasn't coming in on Saturdays anymore—not unless there's an emergency.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Well, I won't keep you. I know you're busy.” Just as she says this, I notice an e-mail from Garrett has popped onto my screen.

  I start to tell her that it's okay and I'm not busy, but she's already heading for her room. So I open Garrett's post, relieved that he's written back.

  Not terribly encouraging, but at least he'll be in school. I decide to write back, something that I hope will be uplifting to him. His brief message makes me think he's still feeling bummed about something.

  Okay, I hope I didn't push things too far. I don't want to scare him, or cause him to read more into it than I meant to say. But i do want him to know that I'm sincere and that I want to be his friend. I wait a few minutes and am not too surprised when he doesn't write back. So I decide to zero in on my homework.

  Finally, it's late and although I still have a half-finished writing project, I feel certain I can get it done in the morning. But before going to bed, I pull out the slip of paper that Pastor Ken gave to me. It says, 1 Corinthians 2:9-16. It's a fairly long section, so I decide to read it in bed. I hope I don't fall asleep before I finish it.

  Wow, that is good, Really, really excellent. And so awesomely fitted to my life that even though it's late and I'm tired, I read it all over again. Then I put a marker in my Bible and decide I will read it a few more times and copy it into my journal. It's a lot to take in, but it seems to make sense. And it's encouraging. “Spiritually alive.” That sounds so right. And that's how I feel: The more I tune in to God, the more spiritually alive I become. I wish everyone could feel this alive.

  Today's the big day,” Olivia says in an unenthusiastic voice, She's driving us to school, and something seems to be bugging her.

  “Huh?”

  “My audition. Remember?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “You're still coming, aren't you?”

  “Of course.”

  “I was actually considering chickening out.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, I don't know…”

  “Just second thoughts?”

  “Yeah. If you think about it, it's pretty wild.”

  “I felt like that too at first, but I liked your initial reasoning about this whole thing, Olivia, the way you wanted to reach out to these guys. I think that's cool. And I plan to be praying for you and for them while you're auditioning.”

  “So you really think I should go through with it?”

  “Yeah. Put it in God's hands. If He has a reason for you to hang with these guys, He'll work it out. Otherwise, let's just pray that they reject you.”

  She laughs. “I guess that will help me to feel better if they do.”

  “What are they called anyway?”

  “Stewed Oysters.”

  “Right.” I wonder if there's something metaphorical about that or if they just liked the sound of it. Band names are always so bizarre.

  I stay on the lookout for Conrad today. I realize how little we've talked this week and feel slightly concerned. -Also, I'm hoping that I can gently hint that he should invite me to next week's dance. But the only time I see him in the morning is just before third period, and he seems preoccupied. He just waves and says he'll catch me later. And then he's not anywhere to be found during lunch. As I'm going to chemistry, I finally spot Alex and ask him if everything's okay with Conrad.

  “He's just stressing over tonight's game.”

  “With McKinley High?”

  “Yeah, they were last year's state champs, and Coach Keller has really been on the team's case this week.” Alex laughs. “Like Brighton has a chance at state. Yeah, right.”

  “So that's all?”

  Alex shrugs. That's all I know.” Now he glances around, like he's making sure no one is listening. “I feel kinda bad about Olivia, you know. Is she okay and everything?”

  I smile. “She's doing great. Did you know she's trying out for Cameron Vincent's band?”

  He frowns. “Are you kidding?”

  Totally serious.”

  Olivia in that band—what're they called anyway? Oyster Stew?”

  “Stewed Oysters. “

  “Whatever.” He lowers his voice now. “But everyone knows they're a bunch of dopers.”

  I force a smile. “Jesus loves dopers too. Not that I know they are. To be honest, I was a little worried at first. But Olivia knows what she's doing.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Sounds pretty weird to me.”

  Just then I see Garrett, although he looks rather un-Garrett-like, wearing a pair of wire-rimmed sunglasses. “See ya later,” I call as I dash off to catch up with him. It's funny that Alex seems so concerned about Olivia getting involved with this band. Go figure.

  “Hey, Garrett,” I say as I join him. “How's it going?”

  “Okay,” he mumbles.

  “What's up with the shades? Trying to keep a low profile so the paparazzi won't mob you?”

  “Funny.”

  “Sorry.” I glance at him. “Are you feeling better?”

  “I guess.”

  Then we're in chemistry, and Garrett is all business. He's logging things into his laptop and getting stuff ready for our experiment, and I'm like his dumb assistant, following orders and cracking jokes that he doesn't even smile at. All the while he keeps his sunglasses on. Weird.

  Finally, we're done and Mr. Dynell seems pleased with our results. I watch as Garrett logs more statistics into his computer. Then I notice something as I catch him from a side angle.

  “Do you have a black eye?” I point to his right eye, and he turns away. “You do, don't you? What happened? Did you get into a fight?”

  “Yeah,” he says dryly. “A fight with a door. I got up in the middle of the night w
hen I was sick and ran smack into the bathroom door.”

  “Ouch.”

  He nods. “A rude awakening.”

  “Looks like it got your nose too.” I notice what I can now see is some swelling. That must've hurt.”

  “Uh-huh.” He closes his laptop and looks at me like he's trying to figure out who I really am and what I'm up to.

  “What's wrong?”

  “Just wondering.”

  “What?”

  “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  I smile. “Why not?”

  “Well, I know you need my help in this class. But something else is going on too.”

  I give him an innocent look. “I just happen to like you, Garrett. You're a nice guy. And I appreciate that you're smart. I think you'd be a good friend.”

  “You mean you think I could use a friend?”

  “Whatever.”

  “Am I some sort of mission for you? A let's-make-a-, friend charity case?”

  “Of course, not.”

  “What then?”

  “I don't see why you're such a skeptic.”

  “I'm scientific. It's my nature.”

  I laugh. “You've actually got a pretty good sense of humor.”

  “Thanks a lot.” But his expression is still glum.

  “And you seem a little down to me. I could be wrong. Maybe it was just the flu. But I guess I thought you could use a friend. And why shouldn't we be friends?”

  He shrugs.

  “And we do need help for the Sweethearts Ball.”

  He lets out an exasperated sigh. “So that's it?”

  “No, that's not it. I got dragged into it by Olivia, and now I'm dragging you into it too. But you are on Honor Society, so you really do have a responsibility to do your—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He seems to loosen up. “So, what's the deal with Olivia trying out for Stewed Oysters? That seems a little off-the-wall, if you ask me.”

  “Yeah, it's kinda weird. But OHvia has a really good voice and she does play several instruments, and they needed a female vocalist, so she thought, why not?”

  He shakes his head like he's trying to imagine it.

  “Sometimes we need to try something new.” I grin at him. “Like new friends. It makes life interesting.” Then I get an idea, and without fully thinking it through, I decide to go for it. “Hey, why don't you come with us?”

  “Huh?”

  “To the audition. I'm going to sort of support Olivia. You could come along and just watch. Do you like music?”

  “Well, yeah, who doesn't like music?”

  “How about Stewed Oysters? Have you heard them before?”

  ‘Yeah. They were pretty good at Battle of the Bands last spring.”

  “Well, then come with us.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Definitely. Come on, Garrett.”

  He sort of shrugs. “Well, okay, I guess I—”

  “Good. Meet us by the west exit after school, okay?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  Then class is over, and I tell Garrett good-bye and that I'll see him later. Okay, I'm not totally sure that he'll show up or what Olivia will think, but I have a feeling she'll be all right with it.

  I catch her on the way to my next class and give her a heads-up about inviting Garrett. At first she's surprised, but then she's fine. “The more the merrier.”

  “Thanks,” I tell her. “I just think Garrett needs some friends right now.”

  “Do you still think he's the suicide guy in your visions?”

  “Not really. But I do think he's lonely. And he's actually kinda fun. For an academic, he's got a pretty good sense of humor.”

  “See ya after school, Sam.”

  Then as I'm on my way to art, my last class, my cell phone rings. Assuming it must be Ebony and hoping that nothing's gone wrong with Cody, since he's been on my heart today, I immediately answer.

  “Hey, I heard the fantastic news,” says Ebony. “And I'm so excited!”

  “Oh, that's right. I almost forgot that I left you a message this morning.”

  “So your pastor was really okay about you working for us?”

  “He was totally great! It was actually a huge relief to tell him about the whole thing. He's a very cool guy.”

  “I know. I've met him before. He seemed very well grounded and genuine.”

  “And he wants to talk to you. I told him I'd let you know.”

  “I'll give him a call.”

  “Any word on Cody? Did his mom call or anything? I've been thinking about him a lot today.” I lower my voice. “But no visions or dreams or anything.”

  “I haven't heard a thing.”

  I sigh. “Too bad, I've really been praying for him to open up to someone. That's a heavy load for a twelve-year-old to carry.”

  “I feel exactly the same way. And I sure don't want to request a court order to bring him in here. I told his mom that I'm giving Cody until next week to come forward.”

  “I'll keep praying for him. In the meantime I better get to class.”

  “Yes, of course. Let's plan on getting together on Monday after school, Samantha. You'll need to sign some paperwork here, things to make your employment official.”

  “Cool.”

  “I'm heading off to a wedding this weekend. But if anything new comes up, feel free to call. Not that I'll be much help out in Des Moines, but I can probably find someone else to step in.”

  “Have a great weekend,” I tell her. “I'll see you on Monday.”

  Finally, the day ends and I'm heading to the west exit to meet Olivia. I'm almost there when I notice Garrett sort of meandering that way too, like maybe his enthusiasm is lagging a little and he may need a boost, so I come up from behind and grab him by the arm. Of course, this just makes him jump.

  “Sorry,” I say, still linked arm in arm with him. “Didn't mean to scare you. Ready to go to Olivia's audition?”

  “I don't know if that's—”. “Come on, Garrett. It'll be fun. And I already told Olivia you were coming. She's expecting you.”

  Garrett looks unsure, but I just keep escorting him toward the exit. It's a good thing he's not a real big guy since I can tell he's dragging his heels a little.'But I also hope that maybe he's enjoying the attention. I sense that we're being observed, and I'm sure people wonder what's up with me and Garrett. But I don't really care. If anything, I'm sure we make a pretty funny pair.

  “Hey,” calls Olivia. “Ready to go?”

  “Your fan club has arrived,” I tell her.

  “Hey, Garrett,” she says with a big, beautiful Olivia smile, which actually seems to dazzle him just slightly. I'm sure he's not at all used to getting this kind of attention from girls. “Nice shades.”

  “Thanks,” he says quietly.

  She jingles her car keys. “Let's go, kiddies.”

  Garrett sits in the backseat, and Olivia and I sit in front and attempt to engage him in some small talk, which is a challenge. But by the time we get to Cameron's house, he seems a bit more relaxed.

  “Cameron and I used to be friends,” he tells us as Olivia parks in front. “Back in grade school.”

  “Really?” says Olivia. “You guys seem so different.”

  “That's probably why we're not friends anymore.”

  “Funny how people can change,” I say as we get out of the car.

  “Man, am I nervous.” Olivia looks toward the brick house in front of us. “This feels worse than doing a solo at a school concert.”

  “Just imagine those guys in their underwear,” says Garrett.

  Olivia and I laugh.

  “Yes,” I agree. “And really bad underwear.”

  “Right,” says Garrett. “Like tighty-whities that got washed with a red towel.”

  “Pink!” I say as we walk toward the house.

  “Thanks, you guys.” Olivia rings the doorbell, and although we can hear music coming from somewhere, no one answers the door. “Do you think thi
s is a trick?” she asks anxiously.

  “Why don't we try the garage,” I suggest. “It sounds like it's coming from there.”

  “I'll go check,” offers Garrett, which seems rather nice considering he's been sort of ambushed into hanging with us this afternoon.

  “He's really nice,” Olivia says as Garrett walks toward the garage.

  I nod. “Yeah. He just needs some friends.”

  Then Garrett waves for us to join him, and before long, Olivia is introducing us to the members of the band.

  “I already know Garrett,” says Cameron. ‘What's up, dude?”

  Garrett shrugs. “Not much.”

  “They just came to listen,” explains Olivia. “Hope that's okay.”

  “Cool,” says Cameron. “Groupies.”

  “We don't need an audience,” grumbles Jack, the bass player. I remember now that Olivia had her concerns about this guy, and he does seem like a grump. But Cameron ignores him, and Dirk, the drummer, seems amused by the spectators as he fiddles with his cymbals.

  “You guys can sit over there.” Cameron nods to a weight bench against the wall as he hands Olivia some pages. “Here's the song we're working on. We'll run through it once so you can hear it then you can join in the vocals second time around. Okay?”

  “Sounds good.” But I can hear the nervous strain in her voice. Suddenly I remember that my purpose here is to pray. So with eyes wide open, I do that.

  Dear heavenly Father, please help Olivia to relax and do her best. And if it's Your will for her to participate in this band, please, make it work out so that they will all want her and appreciate her But if it's not Your will, I ask that You just close the door and lock it shut. Amen.

  They band is playing now, and the sound is really pretty good. Apparently they have a keyboardist who's missing, and Olivia asks if they'd like her to step in. Cameron looks kind of surprised, and Jack looks totally skeptical.

  “Sure, if you want,” says Cameron. “But can you sing and play keyboard at the same time?”

  Olivia makes an uncertain face like she's not too sure about this. Of course, this is a total masquerade since I'm well aware that she can play piano and sing simultaneously. She does it at church fairly regularly and sometimes at her house when we're just playing around and I'm imagining that I have some singing talent, which is a big joke.