by Rob Mclean
“But now we don’t really have the luxury of waiting for all that to happen,” Zeke continued. “With the AntiChrist now walking the Earth–literally-we have to put it out there.” He searched the faces of the band members for comprehension. He wanted to know that they understood the seriousness of their situation.
“Soon the people of this country will be voting to accept or reject the Antichrist’s proposal. I think we have to convince the people to vote against it and our music is the way we can do it.
There were nods from the band and a shrug from Lochie.
“So let’s agree on the name and move forward. Don’t forget, the guys from Tooth & Nail are coming tomorrow night.”
Lochie’s eyes lit up as an idea struck him. “Hey, we could do spontaneous public gigs. You know, roll up and start playing in public places and then disappear before the cops arrive,” the tall bass player said.
“Oh yeah, and reappear somewhere else soon after,” said Zeke. “But what about the drum kit? How do we run around with that?”
“We’ll work it out,” Curtis said. “Don’t forget I got to carry my keyboard. And what about power?”
“We’ll have to do it acoustically. And we’ll get someone to video it and post it,” Christy said. She had a faraway, dreamy expression. She was already imagining the fame that might come.
“It’s been done before, dudes,” Aaron said while he flexed his interlaced fingers, making a grinding, cracking sound. He looked up to see a group of annoyed faces staring back at him. “But hey, knock yourselves out, if you think it’ll do any good.”
Christy fronted him, her pretty features marred with a frown. “Is this why your last band broke up? Because of your irrepressible optimism?”
Aaron leaned back away. He had his hands up surrendering with his palms facing her. “Chill out, babe. Save your rage for the stage.”
Christy didn’t let up. She stepped forward, moving right up close. She stared into his eyes and with a corner of her mouth seductively raised she pushed her finger into his chest gently but firmly. “You need to be more of a team player.”
“Okay, coach. Relax. Like the groupie says, we’re all on the same team.”
She drew a line with her finger up his neck and along his stubbled jaw, lifting his chin to stare at him.
Satisfied, Christy flicked her hand away and turned her back to him. She flashed Angela a quick grin.
There was an awkward silence as the rest of the band stood around looking sheepishly at each other. Aaron’s cheeks and neck burned red as he watched her saunter past Chelsea, high-fiving her as she passed.
“Okay, let’s focus,” Zeke said, looking around to break the uncomfortable moment. “It’s decided then, ‘Righteous Rage’ it is?”
There were nods of assent from all, including Lochie. Aaron was determinedly quiet. Angela put up her hand to vote along with Chelsea.
“Okay,” Zeke said. “Whose turn is it to lead the prayer?”
“How about the new guy?” Lochie asked with an encouraging nod to Aaron.
“Hey thanks, dude, but I’ll pass on it today, okay?”
“Yeah?” Lochie asked, surprised. “You sure?”
“Like I said, I’m pretty new to the whole Christianity scene…maybe next time.”
“I’ll do it,” Christy stepped forward. She closed her eyes, bowed her head and clasped her hands together in front of her. The others follow suit.
“Dear Lord, our prayers go to Eric and those others that may have faltered in faith. Please help us reach out to them and help them on their path. Please be with us tonight as we honour you through song. May you guide us so we can play some awesome music in your name.”
“Amen!” they all chorused.
“Oh, and thanks for the cute new guy,” she added with a quick glance and a smile in his direction. She saw that he looked suitably uncomfortable.
The band then took their places on the stage and with Aaron tapping out an intro time with his crossed drumsticks, they launched into their routine. They had worked out which songs they were going to start with, a few covers of some other well known Christian bands.
Angela and Chelsea left the stage and took a front row seat to watch them play. Despite what other opinions she had of the new drummer, she had to admit that he was good. He added energy and new flourishes to the songs she already knew, and she could see that he would be a good replacement for Eric.
She wondered about Eric, about what must be going on in his mind to leave the band. They were more than just a band; they all had been friends for many years. She could remember him from years ago at the same Christian summer camp where she met Zeke. He had always been part of their group since. It would be a huge upheaval in his life to have walked away from it all. She made a mental note to give him a call later. It is important to keep fellowship and to help those who may be faltering from the path, although she didn’t know what she would say to him.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Chelsea. “Hey, are you still going through with the whole dumping Zeke thing?” Her directness was often seen as abruptness by those who didn’t know her so well, but Angela had learnt not to take it personally.
“I don’t want to. It sounds so final. We have so much history together, but he isn’t giving me a lot of choices. He just doesn’t seem ready to take it to the next level.” Angela didn’t want to tell Chelsea just how disillusioned she had become with Zeke, as they were siblings. On one level she hoped that Zeke would come through and make it all happen, but she couldn’t deny that another part of her hoped that he would just let her go. She didn’t like it that her happiness was so dependent on Zeke and his mercurial actions, but she reasoned that tolerance was part of being a good Christian woman.
“I gotta say, I don’t think he’s gonna like it a whole lot,” Chelsea said. She gave Angela a stern look.
“Yes, it’s manipulative, but as I see it, Zeke’s had it all his own way for too long.” Angela cringed as her mother’s words fell out her mouth. Was she really that influenced by her?
Chelsea didn’t seem to buy it. To her it was all part of having a boyfriend. A guy has ‘needs’ and it is almost an unwritten rule - an underlying, unspoken law - that to be with a guy, you had to somehow meet those needs, while trying not to appear too sluttish. Probably explained why Chelsea hadn’t gotten too serious with any guys.
Angela paused and considered, then gave Chelsea a scrutinizing appraisal. “Has he even told you what happen at the nightclub last weekend?”
“No, what?” Chelsea said. Angela studied her friend’s expression and she could tell that she was being truthful. She told Chelsea the full story about how she wanted the drugs for her father and Zeke’s role in getting them for her. She watched the range of emotions play across her friend’s face as she told her story, including how she really met John.
“But are you sure that nothing bad happened to you? I mean, you were totally out of it.”
“Yes, that’s why I trust John,” Angela said, “and I don’t think I can say the same about Zeke.”
“But think of what you’ll be losing.” Chelsea was never usually this serious and Angela found it worrying. But then, normally she wasn’t dumping her long-time boyfriend.
“It’ll be fine. He’ll might rant and rave a bit, but in the end he’ll come to his senses and do the right thing.”
“You had better be right,” Chelsea said. “But what if he doesn’t?”
“How can he possibly live without me?” Angela said, trying to sound as frivolous as she could, to make light of Chelsea’s sombre mood.
“He has a massive pride that he’d have to swallow.”
“I know, but that’s all part of him growing up.”
They sat silently for a while, both pondering the likely outcomes of Angela’s gamble.
“But Chelsea, whatever happens, we’ll still be friends? Won’t we?” Angela rubbed Chelsea’s arm for reassurance.
Chelsea squeezed her other
hand. “Of course, sista, always.”
The girls hugged. Angela felt better, knowing that even if she did lose Zeke, she wouldn’t lose her best friend as well.
“But if it came down to it…,” Chelsea paused. She winced as if she didn’t want to hurt Angela’s feelings, but she had to be told. “Sure, he’s a jerk sometimes and he thinks with his gonads more often than he does with his brain. I’m sure that basically he’s a good person. I don’t think he would ever let anything bad happen to you. But, look, Zeke’s my brother. You know, we’re, family… I’d have to stand by him.”
Angela suddenly felt shunned. A gaping pit opened beneath her feet and her stomach lurched. She saw that if she went ahead with her mother’s plan and Zeke didn’t try to make it up to her, that she would be isolated and abandoned. She briefly wondered about the rest of their friends. Christy might side with her, but she couldn’t be sure. Then there was her job as well.
“Then let’s pray it doesn’t come to that,” Angela said.
“So what you’re saying is that you’re willing to trash our friendship simply to get your own way?”
“It’s up to Zeke. If he really wants me, then it’ll be all good.”
“Fine,” Chelsea said, “we’ll sort this out now.” She stood and strode off to find her brother without a looking back.
Sitting by herself, Angela felt alone. It was not a feeling she liked, but having grown up as an only child, she had learned to endure it. She had always wished for a sister or even a brother, but her parents had left it all too late. Her mother had a lot of difficulty getting pregnant and had lost several ‘little angels’ before they had been blessed with Angela’s arrival.
“Hey, babe, what’s happening?” Zeke smiled as he sat next to her. With the band’s problems now solved and with things working out as he had planned, his mood was buoyant and animated. He obviously had not registered her discontent or factored it into his happiness index.
She took a deep breath, reaffirmed her resolve and gathered her thoughts.
Zeke saw her hesitation and must have sensed something was not right. “What’s wrong, babe?”
She looked into his eyes and saw his brow creased with concern. She felt her determination faltering. It would be so much easier for her to not make any fuss. Simpler to let things go on the way they were and just wait patiently, as she knew she should, for him to propose when he was ready.
She could almost convince herself of that except that she had been waiting for so long already and he didn’t look like he was going to change any time soon.
“Zeke, I love you. You know that.” She put her hands on his and looked into his eyes, hoping the depths of his soul would be revealed to her, but his visage was veiled.
His eyes narrowed and his features hardened. “But…” Zeke said. Defensiveness put a wary edge to the word.
“But…” she flashed him a brief, acknowledging smile. “We have to look at where our relationship is going.”
“Yeah, this again.” Zeke pulled his hands away and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t want to talk about this now.”
“When then?” Angela snapped. Every time he tried to dodge this conversation it made her angry. It had a cumulative effect, and she found her resentment had swelled behind his wall of evasion.
“Later.” He pushed his chair back, about to get up and walk away.
“There will be no later.” Angela surprised herself with her directness. Zeke stopped in the middle of getting out of his chair and sat back down again.
“What do you mean, babe? What are you saying?” Angela couldn’t tell which of his emotions were winning the fight to show themselves. She could see by his wide-eyed expression that he was shocked by her insistence, but judging by his tensed jaw muscles and clipped tone, also clearly angered by her threat. She had to search harder to find the signs of hurt and worry that were there as well.
“I need to sanctify our future,” she said. “I need a commitment from you. I need to be able to plan our future.”
“I have already told you that I want to marry you.”
“But no one but us knows. You haven’t made a public announcement or even talked about setting a date.”
“I told you, now’s not a good time.”
“Because of the alien thing?”
“The AntiChrist,” he corrected. “It’s the End Times. The world will be heading to Armageddon real soon, and all you can worry about is getting hitched.”
“If that’s what you really think is happening then you will understand where I’m coming from,” Angela said.
“No, I don’t. You want to get married when plague, pestilence and war are about to descend upon the world.”
“That’s exactly why we need to be married. When the Lord returns, I for one don’t want to be counted as your personal harlot.”
“Is that how you see yourself?”
“That’s how I would be counted if we don’t get married before the Day of Reckoning.” She paused so he could think about what she had said.
For him it had all been fun, and that had been okay because they had an understanding that ‘one day’ it would all be made right by a good Christian marriage. Now, as his eyes wildly darted from side to side, she could see that he had finally understood that the time had come and he was now desperately trying to find a way for things to work out in his favour.
She saved him the extra worry by saying, “I have decided that until we do get married, that I am going to reclaim my virginity.”
A derisive bark of laughter erupted from Zeke’s lips. “You can’t do that,” he said loud enough for heads to turn from those on nearby tables. “You can’t take back something that’s been lost a long time ago.”
“You can’t have what I’ve just taken back.”
He eyed her, measuring up her stance. He saw her chin was lifted in defiance and her arms crossed. He felt that he knew her well enough, how biddable and compliant she had always been in the past, and decided to call her bluff.
“Go ahead,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “I have more important things to do than plan for a wedding.”
“You don’t have to do a thing,” she said. As his mouth curled up in the barest of smiles, she hated how desperate she knew she must sound to him. “You just have to want to marry me enough to make it official.”
“Look Angie, I do love you too…,” his voice softened. She marvelled at how smoothly he had changed tact now that he felt in control again. “I don’t think we should rush this.” He held up his hand to forestall her protest. “I think God knows what’s in our heart, the truth of our feeling for each other. I don’t think He’s such a lawyer that He can’t overlook the way we feel about each other and banish us from His sight.”
“I think that’s exactly what will happen.”
“But He’s a God of love,” Zeke protested.
“What about the Old Testament God that ‘Righteous Rage’ came from?” Angela knew that he didn’t have any choices left. He either had to pony up and get on and marry her or call the whole thing off. She hated that she had been the one to have forced him into this corner. He should have wanted to be with her so badly that he should have been rushing her into marriage, not the other way around.
Still, she waited on his response. He rubbed his thumb into his opposite palm, a thing she knew he did when he was nervous. His neck glowed with a scarlet flush that reached up from under his T-shirt and tugged at his ears. Sweat droplets mushroomed on his upper lip before her eyes as he held his mouth wordlessly open.
“This is all so sudden…”
“Sudden?” she almost yelled. She leaned in closer and whispered tersely, “You’ve had me since I was seventeen. You must have thought about marriage before now.”
“Yeah, but…”
“But what? What’s your problem? How can you not be sure about us? After all this time?”
Burning tears of anger and bitter tears of hurt fought to let forth, but
she willed them to stay. If he couldn’t be certain of his feelings for her, then she would not let him know how much he meant to her by crying now.
“I need to think things through,” he said. He sounded confused and vague. It only served to make her angrier that he must have other things on his mind that could be anywhere near as important. Had he ever really been in love with her? Had she ever only been a fun-time social accessory to him, a sex sponge?
A calm descended upon her as she understood that he wasn’t about to commit to her now. Whether her mind had numbed her to the overwhelming pain of his implied rejection, or it had been too big a shock for her to process at this stage, she didn’t know or care. Detached, her logical mind stood in the vortex of her roiling dark emotions, and she saw with clarity what she had to next.
She stood.
She gathered her things and started to walk away. His eyes followed her slowly. It was as if his mind was an older computer that was overloaded processing too much information.
“Are we breaking up?” he asked. His voice wavered, small and shaky. His eyes were rounded, large and white as they limply tracked her motions. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”
Angela felt the stirrings of pity in her heart for him. He looked so pathetic, lost and hurt, all in a matter of moments. But then she reminded herself that all he had to do to make things better was to tell the world of his love for her and make their commitment official. ‘Maybe he’s in shock,’ she thought. He’s not used to ultimatums coming from his girlfriend.
“No Zeke, we’re not breaking up – yet.” His eyes watched her, but he didn’t react to her words. “I think we need some time apart.”
“Apart?” he echoed.
“A break. To find out what is really important to us,” she said clutching her things to her chest. “And so we don’t continue to sin – by, you know, being together.”
“How long?” Zeke’s eyes now stared vacantly in front of him.