My Name Is Chloe

by Melody Carlson

FALLING

  tumbling, bumbling, stumbling down

  falling, sprawling on the ground

  elusive and intrusive things

  fragile as butterfly wings

  daisy petals one by one

  scattered in the summer sun

  does he love me, love me not

  is he burning, is he hot

  can i, am i willing, able

  lay my card upon the table

  will it be the queen of hearts

  the place where all the hurting starts

  cm

  Six

  Sunday, October 6

  I gave myself a long, stern lecture and a cold shower and have determined to keep Cesar out of my head and my heart. I do not want to, cannot afford to, fall in love right now. How do I know this? Because I have given my heart away before and was deeply hurt—so hurt I could barely function. Oh, sure, people say you can’t fall in love when you’re only fourteen. But what do they know of my heart or me? And its complexities. Even I don’t attempt to explain such things. Slippery and invisible things that the mind can’t understand. All I know is that I must stay on track here. I must continue this search for—myself—truth—and whatever it is that I must eventually find or die trying. And I must stay focused on my music.

  So, now I know; Cesar must remain only a good friend. And I don’t think you can have too many good friends. That is, if they’re truly good friends. How do I define a good friend? Someone who is there for you, believes in you, is loyal to you, is honest with you, and wants what’s best for you—is that too much to ask? Okay, I realize those are some pretty big shoes to fill. But I think, hey, if you don’t set your expectations high enough, you might end up settling for less than the best that life has to offer you. I’m not settling.

  Since I have decided to make music my main focus, I’m pleased to report that Allie, Laura, and I had our first official jam session. There was only one problem: With Laura’s bass with its amp system and Allie blasting away on drums (and she may be better, but she still needs work), my guitar (only an acoustic) was completely blown away. And though I don’t ever plan to completely give up my acoustic guitar altogether, I do plan to wage an all-out campaign for a good electric guitar and decent amplifier.

  I’ve already started checking the classifieds and am willing to pay for half with my savings, but I think my parents should pitch in too. After all, they can certainly afford it. So, right now, I am keeping my room clean and trying to act (not look) like a normal girl. While my mother seems pleased, my father looks slightly suspicious. But later this week, after I’ve located the perfect guitar, I’ll break the news.

  Allie came over to practice on the drums again tonight (my parents went to dinner with friends), and I asked her what she thought about Laura. We hadn’t had a chance to have this conversation yesterday.

  “She’s nice.”

  “Nice?” Now that’s not the kind of word that Allie normally uses as a compliment.

  “Okay, maybe nice was too strong. But she seems kind of, oh, I don’t know and honestly this has nothing to with prejudice. But she seems, well, too good, you know what I mean?”

  “Too good?” I thought about that. “You mean because she talked about singing in her church?”

  Allie pointed her finger at me. “Bingo! Stuff like that. It weirds me out a little and kinda makes me nervous.”

  “But you’re taking drumming lessons in a church,” I reminded her. “Does that weird you out too?”

  She laughed. “Nah, Willy’s cool. And I think, hey, if they’re willing to let a witch in their church, how bad can they really be?”

  “So you really do think of yourself as a witch then?”

  “Well, not officially. But I have a feeling if I told regular church people, like Laura for instance, what I really believe, they’d probably call me a witch for sure. And if it was a few hundred years ago, they’d be having a big weenie roast and using me for the kindling.”

  I laughed. “Pretty picture, Allie. But back to Laura. Do you like her?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t dislike her, if that’s what you mean. She just makes me uncomfortable.”

  “Do you think you might make her uncomfortable?”

  “Hey, I only mentioned Wicca once, and when I saw her expression, I shut right up about it.”

  I patted her on the back. “Oh, good girl.”

  “Well, I just don’t think she likes me very much.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “For one thing, she never once looked right at me. And whenever she has a question or anything, she always directs it to you.”

  “But I’m kind of the leader of this group.”

  Allie nodded. “That’s another thing that bugs me. If we do decide to have a group, are you automatically the leader?”

  Well, I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I was thinking: Of course, I’m the leader, you nitwit! This is my house, my music, my drum set, my idea…. “Who do you think should be the leader?” I asked calmly.

  She seemed to consider this, then finally said, “I guess it should be you.”

  “Do you want to have a vote?”

  She grinned. “Hah, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “Good. Besides, we’re only jamming; we’re not forming a band. We’re not even close to ready for something like that.”

  “Why?”

  I looked at her little chin sticking out like she was offended, and in spite of myself I cracked up. “For starters, Ringo, you can barely play drums.”

  “Hey, Willy says I get better every day.”

  “Yeah, after what—two lessons?”

  “Well, I’m a fast learner.”

  I gave her my best don’t-give-up-hope smile. “Yes, you’re doing really great, Al. But the thing is, I’m not ready to really form a band yet. And if we do decide to take it to the next level, I want to do it right. I mean, sheesh—I don’t even have the right kind of guitar.”

  She looked down at my acoustic. “Yeah, we pretty much blasted you outta the waters didn’t we?”

  “Pretty much. But I’m already working on getting something else.”

  “I figured.” She set down her drumsticks. “Looks like I’ve done enough damage here. Wanna lose a game of pool to me now?”

  And so I did. Then after the game she went home. I went downstairs and actually straightened up the house. I loaded the dishwasher and even put in soap and turned it on! That ought to impress the parents. Then I went to my room and cleaned it, well, sort of. Then I did my homework, and even read my redlines. But tonight I came across some stuff that is just too much. I’m thinking maybe I’ve had enough of these redlines because I simply cannot accept this.

  Jesus says (and I’ll admit I’ve heard this before, who hasn’t?) that we need to love our neighbor. Okay, that’s simple enough. But then he says we need to love our enemies too. Not only that, but if they slap you on your right cheek you’re supposed to turn around and offer them your left cheek too. Well, when Tiffany slapped me (and then Kerry followed her lead), I never in a thousand years would’ve been able to say, “Hey, why not have a go at my other cheek while you’re beating me up?” I mean, how crazy is that?

  And then Jesus goes on to say that if someone demands your overcoat that you should give him your jacket as well. But I’m thinking, hang on a minute. If someone takes one coat from you, what the pickle do they need another one for? It just doesn’t make sense.

  And then to top it all off, Jesus says that we’re supposed to give to anyone who asks us for something. How I’m not totally opposed to that, because I like giving to people who really need it—like the homeless or the kids down in Mexico that Josh and Caitlin help out. But what if someone who isn’t even poor asked me to hand over some money? Or worse yet, what if someone like Tiffany asked me?

  So, I’m sorry, but this does not, I repeat DOES NOT, compute. I just do NOT get it. Why does Jesus talk in such riddles anyway? And how is it that anyon
e takes him seriously? Or do people just dismiss the things that he taught if they don’t understand it? And if that’s the case, then what kind of religion is this? Right now it doesn’t make any more sense to me than Allie’s convoluted Wicca rules. I don’t get it!

  SHOW ME

  all is murky, thick, and dark

  i cannot see or hear or feel

  a wall surrounds me cold and stark

  a barrier for what is real

  i am blind and deaf and dumb

  wrapped and trapped inside this tomb

  to this death i will succumb

  the air i breathe is full of doom

  where is life and truth and light?

  why is it so hard to see?

  show me how to know what’s right

  show me what’s inside of me

  cm

  Wednesday, October 9

  I’m not sure what’s wrong with me today. But all morning long I felt like crying. I barely made it through my classes, then right after choir, I streaked out the door before anyone could witness the tears coming down my face. But somehow Laura knew something was wrong, and she actually trailed me clear down past our locker bay and into the bathroom. I was standing in a stall blowing my nose and trying to control myself when I heard her voice.

  “Is that you, Chloe?”

  “Huh?”

  “Up here.”

  I looked up to see her big brown eyes staring at me from the next stall. “Wh—what?”

  “Sorry, but you seemed upset.”

  I blew my nose again then shook my head as if I might be able to shake it all off. “Yeah, it’s weird. There’s nothing seriously wrong or anything, but I feel really awful. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

  “You wanna talk?”

  “I guess. Although I’m not sure what good it’ll do.”

  So we grabbed some lunch, took it out to the patio, and sat down. Fortunately, the sun was out, and other than a chilly breeze it wasn’t too bad out there. “So, what’s up?” she asked as I sipped on my soda.

  “I honestly don’t know. I just feel really, really sad.”

  She nodded and picked up a french fry. “Maybe it’s my fault.”

  I set down my drink. “Your fault? Are you kidding?”

  “No. I might have something to do with this.”

  “Huh? I don’t get it.” About then I was wondering if maybe Laura was secretly into Wicca too, as though maybe she thought she’d cast some sort of evil spell on me.

  “The thing is, I’ve been praying for you, Chloe.”

  I looked at her then kinda laughed. “Well, hey, join the club. My brother and his girlfriend have both been praying for me too—for more than a year now. And who knows who else has me on their God hit list.”

  “Really? How do you know they’re praying?”

  “It’s not like they keep it a secret.”

  She smiled. “Do you mind? I mean, that we’re all praying for you?”

  I shook my head. “But I guess I wonder, why all the fuss?”

  She picked up another fry and dipped it in ketchup, turning it slowly in a circle. “I guess I’m praying because it seemed to me that you’re kind of stuck in the middle.”

  “In the middle?”

  “Yeah. I mean, you have Allie and her Wicca stuff going on, but I don’t think you’re really into that. And then I’m a Christian—I didn’t know about your brother and stuff, but that explains it even more. And I guess I just got the feeling you were kinda strung out between two different worlds.”

  “You know, I do feel sorta torn apart. But I’m not sure that’s why.”

  “I think it is. And anyway, God just put you on my heart, and I’ve been praying for you. For a couple of weeks now.”

  “Really?” The idea that a girl who barely knew me was actually praying for me was kind of intriguing. “Why would you do that?”

  “Like I said, God put you on my heart.”

  “Well, that’s nice. But I’m not real sure what that actually means.” I studied her as she sipped her milk shake. “Do you?”

  She looked up, the whites showing beneath her dark irises. “You really want to know what I think?”

  Now I swear, as weird as this sounds, I actually had a shiver run up my spine just then. And it wasn’t the air temperature because it was in the sixties and I had on a sweatshirt. I just nodded.

  “Well, I think there’s a battle going on for you.”

  I felt my eyes grow wide. “A battle?”

  She nodded. “For your soul.”

  I swallowed.

  “I think the powers of goodness and light are going up against the powers of evil and darkness right now—fighting over who’s going to claim your heart.”

  “You’re serious?”

  She sighed. “I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Noooo, I’m not saying I don’t believe you. It just sounds so strange—so sort of ooga-booga—Twilight Zoneish, you know?”

  “Yeah. I know.” She looked down at her fries. “It’s why I don’t usually talk about this stuff.”

  “But you really believe it?”

  “I know it.”

  “But why? Why would the powers of—whatever that was you said—give a flying fig about my soul?”

  “Because God loves you, Chloe. He has big things for your life. And the devil wants to ruin everything.” She looked me right in the eyes now. “Honestly, I’ve never had such a strong feeling as this before, and I swear, I’ve never said anything like this to anyone before. But I truly believe that God is going to do something powerful with your life—if you give him your heart, that is.”

  Again with the goose bumps. And then I started to cry, not big-time sobbing, but just little streams of tears flowing down my face. “But I don’t get it. I’ve been reading the redlines and I—”

  “The what?”

  “The redlines. You know, the words in the Bible that Jesus said. When I read things like love your enemies—I just don’t get it. I can’t do it.”

  How she started snickering, as if I’d said something really funny. “Well, of course not.”

  “Of course not?”

  “Ho, you goof ball. You’re not supposed to be able to do it.”

  “But what’s the sense in that? Why does he tell us to do it if we’re not—”

  “He knows we can’t do it, silly. It’s impossible.”

  “But if it’s impossible, then what the—”

  “It’s impossible when we try to do it on our own—without Jesus. It’s only when we invite Jesus into our hearts that we become able to do these things, and only with his help. And even then we still mess up sometimes. Like remember that day in the bathroom with Tiffany Knight?”

  “Of course.”

  “I wanted to tear that creep’s hair right outta her thick-headed little skull.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, me too. In fact, I still do.”

  “Well, there’s the difference. I don’t—not anymore.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No. Not really. But if you get me going, I’ll have to go back to Jesus and ask him to help me to do better, because there’s a little something in me that still wants to hate her sometimes.”

  “So, you honestly don’t hate her?”

  She shook her head. “In fact, I’m praying for her too. And I realize that she’s just seriously miserable and wants everyone else to be miserable too.”

  Well, now that really got my head to spinning. A lot of what Laura said actually seemed to make sense, and it had to do with some of the specific questions I’ve had lately. But at the same time I felt confused.

  “I guess I still don’t really understand that part about battling for my soul, Laura. It seems sort of overblown and unbelievable.”

  She seemed to consider this and finally said, “Tell me, do you believe there’s evil in this world?”

  I considered her question before I answered. “Yeah. I guess I do. I mean, when I
think of wars that kill innocent children, or starvation that’s caused by corrupt governments, or Third World countries that allow their children to be enslaved to perform hard labor, or even the bombing of the World Trade Center. Yeah, I think that’s all pretty evil.”

  “And do you think God makes those things happen?”

  I thought about that. “If he does, then I don’t think I like him very much.”

  “Okay, let me put it another way. Do you think there’s good in this world?”

  I considered this. “Well, yes, but to be honest I’ve been focusing on the evil more than the good lately. But let me think … The beauty of nature is good—mountains and trees and oceans and sunsets. And there’s goodness in little children. And when I see someone helping out their fellow man, that seems pretty good.”

  “Do you believe God has anything to do with those good things?”

  Slowly but surely it felt as if a little light was just beginning to go on. “Yes, I think maybe he does.”

  “So, okay then, you do believe in good and evil?”

  “Maybe I do.”

  “How do you think there’s power in both good and evil?”

  I thought about that and finally nodded.

  “Okay, you seem like a smart person to me, Chloe. If you believe in two completely opposite powers, such as good and evil, do you believe they might also experience some conflict occasionally?”

  “It seems possible.”

  “And now, what if the two powers were after the exact same thing, do you think there might be a battle going on?”

  “Man, Laura. Have you ever thought about becoming a preacher?”

  She laughed. “But really, do you see what I mean?”

  “I think I’m starting to. It actually makes sense to me.”

  “All right then. So, can you accept that it’s possible that God told me to pray for you because there’s a battle going on for your soul?”

  “Maybe so.” I studied her. “But be honest with me, does this have a lot to do with Allie and her Wicca thing? Because I’m really not into that.”

  “I don’t think that’s the main reason I felt concerned. But if it makes you feel any better, I’m praying for Allie too. And no, I don’t like that she’s experimenting with witchcraft, but I don’t dislike her because of it. In fact, I think she’s pretty cool.”