“Oh, it’s not a real piercing.” Dani flipped her hair back over her ear to cover the silver hoop. “Dad would have a stroke if I pierced the top of my ear. I just wear it when I’m at school or out with my friends.”
Sister Carter’s Buick pulled around the corner. Dani squeezed my arm, pretending to be bright and happy. But I knew she was faking it because her mom was watching. “We’ll talk later.”
As I watched her drive away, I thought about what Dad had said to me at the confluence of the rivers—how you can only sit on the bank so long before the flood comes along and forces you into the water.
If anyone needed a flood right now, it was Dani.
Chapter Ten
I hadn’t been out with the missionaries since the Sunday we went to Rhanda Mudd’s. Since that time Elder Boaz had finished his mission. He returned to Arizona shortly after Christmas. Elder Tolino now had an enthusiastic new companion—Elder McDonnell from Alberta, Canada.
One Sunday Elder McDonnell approached me. “Will you go with us to visit an investigator this afternoon?”
“I have other plans.” I was way behind on the Book of Mormon reading I’d promised President Carter. It was mid-February, and I hadn’t even finished Jacob yet. I still held out hope that a couple of Sabbath-day reading marathons would take care of it.
Elder McDonnell was disappointed. “She was hoping to see you again.”
“I don’t know any of your investigators.”
“She knows you.”
“Who?”
“Belle Mudd. We’ve been visiting her every Sunday since the first of the year. She keeps asking for ‘that boy who visited her the first time.’ Elder Tolino and I didn’t know what she meant. At first we thought she was talking about Elder Boaz. But last week her great-niece told us it was the boy who said she reminded him of his grandmother. Then Elder Tolino realized it was you.”
Now that I knew who it was, I really didn’t want to go. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with Rhanda Mudd. “Listen, I’d like to, but I just can’t. . .”
I hesitated, and Elder McDonnell’s expression turned hopeful.
The scriptures I carried suddenly weighed fifty pounds. I sighed. “All right.”
“We’ll see you at three.” Elder McDonnell ran to tell Elder Tolino the good news.
That afternoon I fixed a tuna sandwich and a plateful of chips and went to sulk on the couch.
Mom sat down beside me. “Why are you still in your suit?”
“I have to go out with the elders at three.” I took a bite of my sandwich.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“The woman we’re visiting doesn’t like Mormons.”
“Then why go there?”
“The woman’s great-aunt wants to see us.”
“How old is she?”
I took another bite, and this time spoke with my mouth full. “Old as dirt.”
Mom frowned. “That’s not nice. And don’t talk with food in your mouth.”
I swallowed. “Her nineties. She can’t get out of bed.”
“The poor thing.” Mom got a basket from the closet. She rummaged through the cabinet and found a couple of unused word-find puzzle books. She put them in the basket, along with a pack of new pens, a sack of lemon drops, a trial-size bottle of hand lotion, and several packages of toasted peanut butter crackers. She set the basket in my lap. “I have some pretty ribbon. I’ll put a bow on here, and you can tell her this is a sunshine basket—a gift to her from your family.”
I ate my sandwich and chips and watched Mom wrestle with the ribbon. Frustrated by her failed attempts at bow making, she tied it to the handle in a shoelace-type knot.
“There,” she said, fluffing out the two loops to make them look fuller. “That’s not bad.”
“No, I guess not.”
I heard Dad’s footsteps outside. Mom abandoned the basket and ran to the door.
“Are you hungry, sweetie?”
Dad kissed her cheek and took off his suit coat. “What’ve we got?”
“Tuna.”
“Sure.” Dad loosened his tie. “Why is Kevin holding that basket? It’s not Easter yet.”
“He’s going out with the missionaries,” Mom said proudly. “I’m sending a goody basket for the elderly lady he’s visiting.”
Dad gave me a thumbs-up.
I shook my head. “No, Dad. This isn’t a thumbs-up. This woman lives with her niece who’s as anti-Mormon as you can get.”
“You never know, son. You might just say something that will change her mind. Besides, doesn’t the elderly woman have a right to see the missionaries if she wants?”
I heard a car horn. It was three o’clock. I grabbed the basket and made my way down the steps to the missionaries’ car.
“Greetings,” Elder Tolino said from the driver’s seat.
“Greetings,” echoed Elder McDonnell. “What’s with the basket?”
“My mom made it for Auntie Belle,” I said as I buckled my seat belt.
When we got to Rhanda’s house. Hunter’s SUV was in the driveway.
“Look guys, I can’t go in there. Just take the basket in and give my regrets.” I could walk home. It was only fifteen miles to the Paramount.
Elder McDonnell dragged me down the sidewalk. “Auntie Belle wants to see you. We told her you were coming. We called her this afternoon.”
Elder Tolino rang the doorbell.
Rhanda Mudd opened the door and allowed the elders to step inside. She looked at me as if I were the Creature from the Black Lagoon. “Where did you come from?”
“Um . . . your great-aunt said she wanted to see me.”
Rhanda rolled her eyes and sighed. She nodded toward Auntie Belle’s room, and I followed the missionaries.
From the next room, I heard Hunter ask his cousin who was at the door.
“Those crazy Mormons,” Rhanda replied.
“You should tell them to go away,” a familiar voice interjected. “I’m sure if they know they’re not wanted, they’ll leave you alone.”
“Can’t do that,” Rhanda said. I heard the click of a cigarette lighter next, then a pause. I figured Rhanda was inhaling. “Auntie Belle wants them to visit. Nobody else comes to see her.”
“If you don’t want them here, just tell them.”
I recognized the voice. My heart stopped for a moment of silence before it shattered.
It was Dani.
I must have stalled, because Elder Tolino nudged me forward. Auntie Belle was asleep. The shades were pulled, making the room depressingly dark.
“Auntie.” Elder Tolino nudged the old woman’s shoulder. “It’s Elder Tolino.”
Auntie Belle’s eyes barely opened.
“And me, Elder McDonnell,” the other missionary said.
Auntie Belle licked her lips. “The other boy—the one who came first—did he come like you promised?”
I gave Elder McDonnell the sunshine basket and stepped forward so Auntie Belle could see me.
“It is you! I was so afraid you wouldn’t come to see me again.”
I took her hand. “I didn’t know you wanted to see me.”
She put her hand on top of mine. “I was hoping you’d come back, sweetie.”
When Auntie Belle said sweetie, it was as if I heard Grandma calling me sweetie again.
I put my other hand over hers. “I’m glad I’m here.”
“Oh—you’ve only got three fingers on your hand.” Auntie Belle brought my right hand to her face to examine it closer. “What happened? Were you born that way?”
I pulled my hand away, embarrassed that she’d brought it up. “I lost it in an accident.”
“Well, sweetie, I know how you feel.” She reached down and uncovered her feet. “I’ve had some toes amputated. Diabetes done it to me.”
Elder McDonnell set Mom’s basket on the bed.
“My mom sent you this,” I said. “I hope you like it.”
Auntie Belle’s eyes grew wide. �
�Oh my—a basket of goodies. Such a pretty bow, too.” She fingered Mom’s feeble attempt at art. “I don’t get many gifts. Please give my appreciation to your mother.”
Elder McDonnell opened the curtains. The sun poured in, lifting the mood in the room. Elder Tolino pulled a chair up to the bed. “Did you read this week’s assignment?”
“I’ve read all of Third Nephi,” Auntie Bell said, pronouncing the name Neff-ee instead of Nee-fi. Then she giggled. “I have to read at night after Rhanda goes to bed. If she caught me reading the Book of Mormon, she’d never let you come back. I have a flashlight.” She giggled as she lifted the corner of her pillow. “I feel like a child, reading at night so my parents won’t see.”
“Do you have any questions about the reading?” Elder McDonnell asked.
While the elders talked to Auntie Belle, I strained to hear the conversation down the hall. I heard Hunter’s deep voice and Rhanda’s whiny one. Once in a while the soft lilt of Dani’s voice—sounding much like her mother’s—interrupted the other two.
I excused myself and went to the front room. I wanted Dani to know I was there. I wanted to make her acknowledge my presence.
Rhanda was seated on the couch, smoking a cigarette. Dani and Hunter sat on the loveseat opposite.
I knocked on the door frame. “Excuse me, Rhanda. I hope I’m not interrupting something. I just want to thank you for allowing us to visit your aunt.”
Dani almost dropped her soda.
Rhanda thumped the ashes from the end of her cigarette into an empty soda can. “I guess I should be glad you Mormons come and talk to her. It gives me a break. Just don’t get any ideas. You won’t baptize either one of us. I know the truth about your church. It’s a cult.”
Hunter flipped through a worn issue of Guns and Ammo. “I’m sure they won’t stay long.”
Dani sat, petrified. In fact, she wouldn’t even look at me.
It irritated Rhanda that I was still in the doorway. “Did you need something else?”
I was going to go back to Auntie Belle’s room, but before I turned around I changed my mind. Dani was going to speak to me whether she wanted to or not.
“Hey Dani, do you need a ride to seminary in the morning?”
She was wearing that silver hoop that made it look like she had a piercing on the top part of her ear. She flipped her hair over it and glared at me. “Of course not.”
Rhanda’s eyes narrowed. She turned to Dani. “What’s seminary?”
“A boring church class.” Dani rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why he’s asking me—I only go when I have to.”
“Did you know Dani’s dad is the branch president at our church?” I volunteered. “He’s like our minister. His picture was on the front page of the Courier when we had the groundbreaking for our new building.”
The silence that followed felt like hours. When Rhanda broke it, I found myself wishing the silence could have lasted forever.
“I know who her daddy is,” Rhanda said smugly. She inhaled, held it, and then blew out the smoke in a slow, thin stream. She turned to Dani and smiled affectionately. “I think Dani’s old enough to make her own choices about religion. Just because her daddy’s a Mormon doesn’t mean she has to make the same mistake.”
“I know why Dani goes to church,” I said. “I know how she feels about it.”
Rhanda raised her eyebrows. Dani glanced sideways at Hunter, then lowered her head. “Kevin doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I go to church because my parents make me.” Her shoulders slumped and a dark shadow crossed her face. “I only go because I have to.”
Chapter Eleven
March arrived, and I still hadn’t finished reading the Book of Mormon. I was in Alma, which is about five hundred chapters long. I didn’t want to tell President Carter I’d procrastinated, so on the first Sunday I tried to avoid him. When I saw him coming my direction, I found reasons to turn the other way—everything from helping Sister Conrad set up chairs for Relief Society to helping Sister Carter usher Dani’s little brothers to Primary. I felt guilty. If I didn’t get serious about my commitment to finish the Book of Mormon, I’d be as old as the General Authorities before I ever made up my mind about a mission.
When we were halfway into March, I realized time was running out. I decided to lock myself in my room until I finished Alma. It was a long Sunday afternoon, especially since Lima Bean chose that time to use his litter box, and the smell was so bad I had to hold my breath. But I knew if I didn’t stick with the reading, I’d get sidetracked. I opened my window and sprayed some air freshener in the room. It got rid of the smell, but it insulted my cat. Lima Bean sniffed, and then offered an indignant flick of his tail. He settled in the window seat and watched the redbirds congregating around the feeder in the back lot.
The following Monday as I drove home from school, I cooked up a plan to get in even more reading. I’d ask Mom if we could make that night’s home evening a quiet scripture-reading night. Mom would be thrilled that I offered a suggestion for home evening, and I’d get some extra reading done. If I read fast enough, I could even finish Helaman.
I parked the truck in the hearse garage and as I walked to the Paramount, the mail carrier drove up and handed me the mail—including a thick envelope that I had to sign for.
I took the mail upstairs, dumped it on the kitchen table, and sorted it into stacks: Paramount bills, home bills, junk mail, and Granddad’s mail. The thick envelope was for me. It was made from a fancy grade of paper and it had a Tennessee return address. Inside there was a blue folder with an impressive gold seal on the front that said Nelson–Barrett University.
I eased the elegant cover letter from the folder and began to read.
Dear Kevin:
We are pleased to inform you that you have been chosen to receive a full four-year scholarship to attend Nelson–Barrett University. In addition, your excellent academic record has earned you the opportunity to join the Advanced Undergraduate Research Program, which is a part of our nationally ranked College of Biology and Life Sciences.
We congratulate you on this achievement. Over three hundred highly qualified students applied for this scholarship program, and while it was difficult for the faculty to select the three finalists, you can be assured that your qualifications clearly met the criteria for entry into this prestigious program.
Your acceptance into this program entitles you to four years paid tuition at Nelson–Barrett University, plus qualifies you for additional grants to cover housing, books, and other required fees.
An advisor has been assigned to you. His contact information is at the bottom of this letter. Please complete the enclosed paperwork and return it to him as soon as possible. Once you have notified us that you plan to accept this award, we can begin the process of enrolling you in our school. Again, we congratulate you and look forward to seeing you on campus.
Sincerely,
Ma’shal Rashad
President, Nelson–Barrett University
CC: Dr. Alfred L. Wallace
I jumped on the sofa and used it for a trampoline. Then I ran through the house, beating my chest like a baboon.
“I am the MAN, Lima Bean!”
Lima Bean continued grooming his right leg as if I weren’t even in the room.
I went downstairs to tell Mom and Dad, but they weren’t there. The office was locked. The guest kitchen was empty.
Maybe they were at Granddad’s. I ran across the parking lot and up the stairs to the apartment above the hearse garage. I beat on the door. No answer.
I sprinted to Marcy’s. Her door wasn’t locked.
“Are you home?” I hollered.
“Come on in,” she yelled back.
She was on the floor, changing Desmond’s diaper. Lily B was sitting at a child-size table scribbling in her coloring book.
“Unka Kebin!” She waved her coloring book at me. “Will you color wif me?”
“I have some big news. Look what I got.” I waved the
folder over my head. “A scholarship!”
Marcy clapped her hands. “Is it for the undergrad research program?”
“Yes!” I thrust my arms up in the air like Rocky Balboa and danced around the room.
Marcy finished changing Desmond and put him in his playpen. “I’m so happy for you.” She hugged me and kissed my cheek.
“I want to tell Mom and Dad. Where’d they go?”
“They’ve gone to the Piggly Wiggly.”
“What about Granddad?”
“He had to go back to the dentist. His crown broke.”
“Want to see the letter?”
Marcy opened the folder and read the letter. “This is incredible. A full scholarship! I’m impressed.” She handed the folder back to me. “I always knew you were smart.”
I never even got around to suggesting the scripture reading to Mom. I was too excited about my award. I managed to wait until after supper. We sat down to have home evening and after Mom said the prayer, I whipped out the folder. “I have an announcement. Dad, you wanna read it?”
Dad scanned the letter. He gaped at me in awe. “You won a full scholarship? A four-year scholarship?”
Mom gasped. “Is this true?”
I nodded so hard I thought my head would fall off my neck.
Dad jumped up and grabbed me in a bear hug. “This is fantastic!”
Mom clapped her hands. “A full scholarship. I’m so impressed!” Then she looked at Dad. “I wonder if they’ll hold it while—”
I already knew what she was going to say. “I can’t turn down a full scholarship to serve a mission.”
Dad’s smile drooped. Mom suddenly looked somber.
“This is a great achievement.” He put the folder back in the envelope. His voice was more subdued. “I’m very proud of you.”
“I am too,” Mom added, though she didn’t seem to be as happy as she was ten seconds ago.
“What’s wrong with everybody?” I couldn’t believe my parents were acting this way. “Think of all the money you’ll be saving. Tuition at Nelson–Barrett U is expensive.”
The Final Farewell Page 8