Drake knew what it was like living with a father who drank regularly, but he had never once been beaten. “Man, I hate that for Ronnie. I never realized.” No, I sure didn’t. No wonder he talks so much. He never had anyone to listen to him before. “What are you gonna do about his dad? From what I heard of your end of the conversation, he sounded pretty angry.”
“I’m going to keep him away from Ronnie,” Andrew said, his words precise and matter-of-fact. “He doesn’t care a thing about seeing or talking to Ronnie. He’s just looking for a fight because now he’s got no one to beat up. He doesn’t scare me, though. I doubt he’ll even try to call again.”
Drake folded his arms and noticed the serious concern in Andrew’s eyes. “Hope you’re right. For Ronnie’s sake, I mean. I saw the look on his face. He seemed scared when you mentioned his dad.”
Andrew sighed and turned his gaze elsewhere. “I can imagine.”
“Is there anything I can do to cheer him up?”
Andrew lifted his head and looked at Drake. “Why don’t you ask him?”
The floor creaked as Drake walked up to Ronnie’s room. He approached the already opened door and stood silently in front of it for a few seconds, hesitating. He wasn’t good at stuff like this, but tapped lightly on the door anyway. “Can I come in?”
Ronnie glanced up from his sitting position on the floor and set down the puzzle piece he was holding. “If you want,” he said indifferently.
Drake walked in and sat down beside him. “Your uncle told me about your dad,” he started slowly. “He thought it would be better if I knew.”
Ronnie shrugged and looked away.
“Anything I can do?”
“Not really.”
“C’mon. Nothing?”
“Being here with you and Uncle Andy, I almost forgot about him.” Ronnie looked into Drake’s eyes for some form of comfort and brought his knees close to his chest. “Now it just hurts again.”
Drake picked up a puzzle piece and inserted it in the top corner of the puzzle. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, OK? I know I’ve been a jerk at times—especially that first night—but I really do wanna help.” He nudged him gently, hoping to get a smile. “Now it’s my turn to say I’m sorry.”
Ronnie teared up but managed to hold it back.
“Hey, things won’t stay bad forever. They can’t. Believe that.” Drake rose from the floor and turned to leave.
“Wait.”
Drake faced him. “What is it?”
“There is one thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Can you come to church with Uncle Andy and me tomorrow?”
Drake opened his mouth and froze. “Oh…well, you see…”
Ronnie shook his head and turned his attention back to his puzzle.
“Never mind.”
Drake took a deep breath, knowing what he was about to say went against every desire inside of him. “All right, Ronnie. I’ll go. But only for you.”
“Really?” Ronnie said excitedly. “’Cuz you’ll just love it there. And the pastor’s real nice. He even shook my hand after the service.”
Drake literally had to force himself to smile. I can hardly contain myself.
Chapter
10
A STEP AHED
Drake Pearson didn’t exactly look dressed for the occasion. A slightly wrinkled button-up shirt that might as well have not had any buttons, a gray tee underneath, faded jeans, old shoes with six hundred dollars and a knife buried inside, and a hemp-string necklace with a lizard engraved on a wooden bead roughly sized up his apparel for Sunday morning. He was comfortable, at least, and maintained a sense of pride that he didn’t walk around as if his clothes had been soaked overnight in starch—like “church folk.”
Ronnie was chipper, as always, on the way to church that morning. He filled Drake in on the praise and worship, what the preaching was like, and even offered to give him a tour of the church before the service began.
“No thanks, little man,” Drake mumbled, hoping to catch a short nap before they arrived. Why did church have to be so early in the morning? And why did he ever agree to put himself through this humiliation in the first place? He stretched his sore arms and yawned. Then another yawn. Did he say humiliation? No, this went beyond embarrassment; this was sheer agony. “I guess it would sound rude if I asked how long service is,” he said, directing his statement to Andrew.
“It usually ends sometime around twelve,” Andrew said. “But then again, the pastor isn’t on a time schedule, and if people start closing their Bibles or checking their watches too soon, that usually seems to make him want to continue even longer.”
“Great,” Drake moaned, leaning his head back. “My stomach will be rolling by that time.”
“Can we order pizza afterward?” Ronnie piped up.
“Sure,” Andrew said. “You like pizza, Drake?”
“I could probably eat five pieces right now,” Drake said. If he hadn’t been so rushed this morning, he wouldn’t have forgotten to eat breakfast, and if he wouldn’t have forgotten to eat breakfast, he probably wouldn’t have a headache right now—this one for real. He hoped today was one of the pastor’s shorter messages. Or maybe he had caught a cold and was home sick today. Before he knew it, he was dreaming up a fantasy of ideas that might have happened to the pastor between now and the short time span of five minutes before they reached the church.
“Have you ever been to church before, Drake?” Andrew said.
“Sure,” Drake said, trying to restrain another yawn. “Plenty of times. Went there with my dad to get food from the food pantry.”
“Oh,” Andrew said despondently.
“The church started making people attend the morning service, though, then gave ’em food afterward. That meant everyone had to wait and hear the sermon before they got anything to eat. Dad and I stopped coming after that. There were a few other churches in the area to bum off of for a while, but eventually they closed their pantries or did the same thing as the first church. So in a way, I guess church has helped me. Kept me fed for a while, anyway.”
Andrew pulled into the parking lot, which was already half full of cars. The second Drake stepped out of the car, Ronnie began begging to show him around until Drake finally gave in. “OK,” he agreed, “but I don’t see what’s so special about a concrete building.”
Ronnie walked Drake past the doe-eyed greeters at the front door and rushed him into the sanctuary. “That’s the stage up there,” he explained, as if Drake hadn’t already realized that for himself. “Over there’s a guy who plays a sweet-looking guitar, and the drums are awesome.”
Drake surveyed the stage and was saddened to find that there was no piano. What a shame. A piano might have been the only thing he would have found interesting here. Everything else had been fairly predictable so far. Pews lined up perfectly, air smelling of recently sprayed air freshener, and everyone smiling unnaturally at him whenever he walked by. Church just creeped him out, period.
Ronnie tugged at his hand. “C’mon, I’ll show you the kids’ class.”
The children’s class was downstairs, and the theme on the wall appeared to be of some man with a boat and a crowd of animals around him. “Who’s the old guy?” Drake said, nodding toward the painting.
Ronnie squinted as he thought. “I think he’s Noah. He was the guy who built a boat and brought all the animals inside before a big storm came and flooded the whole world.”
“How do you know all this stuff? Thought you told me you’ve only been to church once.”
“I have, but Uncle Andy’s been reading to me at night.”
Drake raised his eyebrows. “At night? Why?”
“So I can learn more.”
“That’s what Sundays are for. To learn when you come to church.”
“Oh, no,” Ronnie said quickly. “Uncle Andy tells me lots of exciting stories every night. I know a lot of them already.”
Drake looked at the p
ainting again. Eerie that kids actually took an interest in this stuff. “Exciting. Right,” he said doubtfully.
“No, really, they are. I can’t wait to learn more.”
Drake simply nodded in his confusion. Poor kid, he’s been brainwashed.
Ten minutes later, Drake and Ronnie found a seat by Andrew just as the praise team emerged from a side door and walked onto the stage. After a brief prayer and a warm welcome to the congregation, the music began. Ronnie and Andrew stood during the songs, but Drake pointedly stayed seated with his arms folded close to his chest and eyelids drooping. The music was OK, but he had heard better. The instruments impressed him somewhat, but what was the point of it all? To sing to someone who may or may not be listening?
Drake wasn’t sure where he stood on the whole “God” issue, and considered himself at most to be an agnostic. He simply didn’t know. Who could ever know? The belief in evolving from a chimp or a blob of slime from the ocean had always been lame to him; but on the other hand, the belief in a God who magically created the entire world in a matter of days made no sense either. But what did it really matter? Maybe he would get serious about his life and eternity once he got into his 70s or 80s, but his life was just too full and messed up right now to try to juggle something else.
Drake was beginning to get fidgety. The fourth song had ended, yet soft instrumental music still played as the pastor rambled on about salvation and something called an altar call. And most of the people were still standing. Drake peeked at his watch and rolled his eyes. Sit down already. You’re encouraging him to go longer.
“If there’s anyone in this room today who has not made Jesus Christ the Lord of his life, please do so immediately,” Pastor Don Bauer said. “Don’t leave here today without knowing for a fact that your life is right with God. All you have to do is repent of your sins and believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and that He died and rose again. Give your heart to Him. He doesn’t ask anything in return except your love.”
Ronnie tugged on Andrew’s shirt and stood on his tiptoes to whisper something in his ear.
Tears welled up in Andrew’s eyes, and he embraced Ronnie.
Ronnie whispered something else to Andrew, and Andrew nodded his head. Then Ronnie sat down and scooted close to Drake. “Can you come up front with me?” he said quietly.
Drake looked at the stage, then back at Ronnie. “What? Why?”
“I want Jesus in my heart,” Ronnie whispered, wondering why Drake hadn’t already understood.
Drake glanced up at Andrew, who was beaming proudly and on the verge of tears. Oh, brother. He sighed and said finally, “Why do I gotta go up there?”
“I don’t wanna go by myself.”
Then ask your uncle, Drake wanted to say. He’d be more than thrilled to walk you up there.
“Anyone at all?” Pastor Don said, searching the crowd for any raised hands.
Ronnie bit his lip. “Please, Drake,” he pleaded.
“Ronnie, don’t…” But Drake couldn’t pull himself to say no. He grudgingly gave in to the pitiful look on the 7-year-old’s face and sheepishly made his way up to the front behind Ronnie. I can’t believe I’m doing this. And in front of all these people! Me and my brilliant, backfiring ideas. Thank you once again for your stupidity, brain. I look like an idiot.
Pastor Don smiled at Ronnie and Drake as they ambled toward the front where he stood. “Thank You, Father, for these two people who have come forward in their desire to know You.”
Minus one, Drake thought, pushing his legs onward to keep from freezing on the spot.
The music droned on as people all around continued to worship God with their eyes closed, but Drake felt as if a huge red target was on his back and everyone was staring at him. He felt himself begin to sweat as the pastor stepped in front of them and asked them their names.
“Ronnie!” Ronnie answered instantly.
“Uh, I’m just up here for the kid,” Drake said without making eye contact. He clamped his mouth shut. I feel sick.
Ronnie turned around and gazed up at Drake. “You mean you don’t want Jesus to come into your heart, too?”
Drake bent over and said in a hushed voice, “Look, you just do what you gotta do and I’ll do what I gotta do, so make it snappy.”
Ronnie turned back to face the pastor, but the joy, it seemed, had almost completely wiped off his face. He prayed the prayer after the pastor, and all the while Drake’s cheeks were growing redder by the second. Finally, Ronnie said “Amen” and walked back to his seat while Drake headed directly for the back door.
Andrew hugged Ronnie again as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m so happy for you, Ronnie. You were so brave.”
Ronnie tried to smile, but his attention was turned toward the back of the church. He pulled away from his uncle. “Why did Drake leave?”
“I don’t know, Ronnie.”
Ronnie scooted to the end of the pew and stood. “I’m gonna go find him.”
Ronnie found Drake outside leaning against the side of the church, driving the heel of his foot into the soft dirt. “Whatcha doin’?” he said, slipping both hands in his pockets.
Drake glanced at him for only a second before shifting his eyes back to the grass. “Don’t ever make me do that again, understand?”
“Do what?”
Drake snorted and rammed his foot deeper in the dirt. “You know what.”
“Because I wanted you to be with me when I asked Jesus in my heart?” Ronnie said, kicking a pebble away just to show Drake he wasn’t the only one upset. “Sorry.”
Drake sat down on the cool dew and wrapped his arms around his legs. “Don’t say that. I know you meant well, but it’s just different for me, that’s all.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Drake shrugged. “Does to me.”
“Why would anyone not want to go to Heaven when they die?”
“I guess for the same reason teenagers don’t sit in Santa’s fat lap. You grow up and stop believing what every dim-witted person tells you.”
“Nobody made Uncle Andy believe it. He just does.”
“Fake is still fake. I don’t care who believes in it.” Drake noticed the edge in his voice. Always angry, wasn’t he? Maybe he could tone it down a bit, just for the kid. Ah, so what? Let it stay. You know it feels good to release it.
“But what if God is more than fake?” Ronnie pressed. “What if He’s really out there?”
Drake looked up at the cloudless sky and then back at Ronnie, as if to say, Where?
Ronnie accepted defeat. “OK, sorry, but I still say it doesn’t make sense.”
I never asked your opinion.
“But I’m not sorry for caring,” Ronnie continued. “I could never be sorry for that.”
Drake reconsidered toning down his anger problem. Maybe it would be better to give the kid a break. Save the anger to blow up on someone who really needed it. Anyway, he might need the extra ammo someday. “I was just spouting off, Ronnie. Nothing serious. It’s better to ignore me when I get that way.”
Ronnie pursed his lips. “Thanks. I’ll remember.”
“Yeah, well…I think it’s great you feel like things are good between you and God now.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, but see, not everyone’s the same. Some people find comfort in God, some people find comfort in family, and some people even find comfort in a high. No one’s really right; it’s just whatever they feel. Right now, the only thing I find comfort in is having a place to sleep at night and food to eat. Nothing more. I’ve done just fine without a family, and I can do without God, too.”
Ronnie pulled apart a blade of grass and let it fall to the ground. “Does that mean you don’t wanna be around me anymore ’cause I have Jesus in my heart?”
Drake finally allowed himself to smile. He ruffled Ronnie’s hair and said, “As long as it’s not contagious, pal.”
The drive home was silent—which ironically spoke loude
r volumes than if the three of them had all carried on regular chatter. Drake knew the stunt he had pulled was likely the prominent topic in the back of Andrew and Ronnie’s minds, but he had warned them, so anything they could say would only be a repeat of what he had already told them. Andrew didn’t ask where Drake had been during the sermon, and Drake wasn’t offering any explanations. Ronnie had likely told his uncle what had happened once he went back inside the sanctuary, so what was the point in rehashing it all? Oh, well. At least now, everyone knew where he stood.
When they got back to the house, Andrew followed Drake up to his room and closed the door behind him. He waited to see if Drake would voluntarily speak to him first or if he would have to prod it out of him.
No response.
Andrew cleared his throat. “Uh, what’s up?”
Drake threw his shirt to the floor and dug through his dresser drawers for something more comfortable. “What, is it your turn to quiz me now?”
Andrew hadn’t expected an attack this early. “I just asked a simple question. A simple answer is all I’m looking for.”
Drake rolled his eyes. “I don’t like church,” he said flatly.
Andrew nodded his head and considered that. “OK.”
Drake stared at him skeptically. “That’s it? You’re not gonna hound me for leaving church early, or—”
“I never said you had to come. You gave your word to Ronnie, not to me.”
Broken Identity Page 12