All the Major Constellations

  “Like what I’m doing?” Andrew said.

  “Looking for it?” John said. He shifted around in the passenger seat.

  “You can lower the seat back if you want,” Andrew said.

  “I’m fine. Anyway, sometimes a darkness, a dark event, can lead you to search. You start asking questions.”

  He’s talking about Sara’s accident, Andrew thought. He looked over at John, who had grown quiet and thoughtful. Maybe he was talking about his own struggle. Why do I always think it’s about me?

  “Tell me more about your moment,” Andrew said.

  “There was a lot of stuff going on. I was living in a bad way. And then I hit rock bottom . . . and then I found Him,” John said abruptly.

  “Oh,” Andrew said.

  “What about you? Have you been searching?” John said.

  Andrew wanted to blurt out that he was in love with Laura, that he would do or say anything to get closer to Laura. But he also knew it was more nuanced than that. At Shaman’s Point, and in the river where he’d almost lost Becky, he’d felt—he didn’t know another way to describe it—moved. Like when you read a great book or a poem and something inside you shifted—or opened, for that matter.

  “I guess I’ve been searching,” Andrew said.

  “We have a study group tomorrow night if you want to join. You’re not really supposed to come until you’ve accepted Jesus, but . . .”

  “Nah, I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable,” Andrew said, thinking of his day at the soup kitchen.

  “The group is really small. Just me, Matt, Seth, Laura, sometimes Chip.”

  “Oh?” Andrew said.

  “Come to Laura’s tomorrow night at six.”

  “I don’t know,” Andrew said, but he’d already made up his mind to go.

  “It’s up to you,” John said.

  Andrew’s mind worked rapidly. If he went to a study group, he’d have to be prepared to say something coherent and sincere-sounding about the Bible. What could he say that would impress Laura? What could he find in its pages that would actually resonate with him? When he called John, he’d meant, in a way, to come clean. But this new opportunity confused his intentions. He’d get to be with Laura again and see her interact with what he’d come to think of as the mysterious men in her life. Were they all in love with her? Were they a bunch of pathetic fawning eunuchs? And why was she apparently the only female in their cozy little study group?

  “Listen, I want to be honest with you,” Andrew said.

  “Yes?” John said. He started his drumming fingers on the dashboard again.

  “I’m wearing a mask,” he said. “I’m pretending. Sort of, anyway.”

  “That’s okay. That’s what the search is like for some people. They feel almost phony, as if they’re acting out the motions.”

  “Isn’t that a lie?”

  “It’s just more subtle than that, Andrew, more complicated. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘fake it until you make it’?”

  “Yeah. That’s, like, an alcoholic thing.” Andrew wondered if maybe that was what John meant when he’d said he’d hit rock bottom.

  “It’s like that for some people,” John said.

  “So you’re literally saying to pretend to believe until you actually believe? That can’t be right. Is that actually okay with your”—Andrew hesitated, groping for the right words—“your people?”

  “My people,” John said thoughtfully. “That ‘fake it until you make it’ phrase doesn’t quite fit. It’s hard to explain.”

  “Did you feel that you were faking it or subtly faking it before you found Him?” Andrew pressed.

  John was silent for a long time. A long, long time, for miles. The atmosphere in the car was thick with sadness, although it was difficult to figure out what aspects of the situation suggested that feeling. He briefly considered bringing the conversation around to Laura, but something about John made him resist that urge, even dulled its impulse.

  “John?”

  “What? Where are we?” he said. He seemed startled by the sound of Andrew’s voice.

  Andrew had driven down Route 2. They were in Turbury, a town so tiny that the gas station, convenience store, and post office were all combined. It made him think of how he, Sara, and Marcia used to drive around when there was nothing else to do. He remembered his last drive with Marcia, the day of the accident, when they had talked about religion. Andrew had been so flippant, so brutal, so unconcerned. It sounds so simple, talking about it in your car. That was what Marcia had said, but it hadn’t been simple or easy for her. And it wasn’t simple or easy for him, either, not now anyway, and it certainly wasn’t for John, whose expression was pained, whose hands and jaw were clenched.

  “We’re nowhere,” Andrew said. “I’ll take you home.”

  24

  THE NEXT DAY ANDREW SPENT his lunch break skimming the Bible for something he could talk about at the study group. He read a little Old Testament and a little New Testament. Again he felt bored and frustrated.

  He got permission from Neal to use the office for a long-distance call. Marcia wasn’t at her hotel or the hospital, but one of the nurses told Andrew, even though she wasn’t supposed to, that Sara was doing just fine. “Her status hasn’t changed,” she said. Andrew wondered where Marcia was. Hopefully doing something unrelated to Sara. He pictured Marcia alone at the cafeteria, eating a sad slice of pizza and reading a big book of Spanish poetry.

  Poetry. He grabbed his Bible again. He flipped through the pages until he found where the text was broken into lines that resembled poems: the Psalms. Poetry, or at least the beauty of it, was something he could understand. He read.

  Be merciful to me, LORD, for I am faint;

  O LORD, heal me, for my bones are in agony.

  Finally, a connection.

  • • •

  When he got to Laura’s house that night, one of her little sisters answered the door. She looked to be about seven or eight years old. Her hair was braided and wrapped around her head like a crown. She was pudgy and rosy cheeked.

  “They’re at the church. They tried to call you,” she said to Andrew before he’d said a word.

  “Oh,” he said as she closed the door.

  Andrew stood for a moment on the porch. He listened to the sounds of happiness, of children and adults giggling and having a good time. Perhaps they were playing a board game or doing something similarly wholesome.

  “Was that the new kid?” he heard a woman ask.

  Andrew stepped off the porch and got back into his car. He didn’t like this “new kid” shit. He drove to the church. It was dark. There were only two cars in the lot. He grabbed his Bible and went to the front doors, but they were chained shut. He briefly held the large padlock and peered inside. Then he remembered to go around back.

  The back door was open. He stepped inside the dark hallway. Where should he go? He figured they wouldn’t be in the kitchen, so he tried some of the other doors. The floorboards creaked as he fumbled around and looked for a light switch. Then he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

  “Shit!” he said, spinning around. He came face to face with a man.

  “Don’t curse in this house,” the man said.

  “Sorry,” Andrew said.

  “You’re Andy?”

  “Andr— Yes,” Andrew said. The man had not removed his hand from Andrew’s shoulder. He still hadn’t found the light switch, so they were blinking at each other, trying to make each other out in the dark. This must be Chip, Andrew thought, breathing a little easier. He moved slightly so that Chip’s hand fell off his shoulder. Something about this action seemed to break the tension between them.

  “Welcome!” Chip said. Then he turned on a light. The fluorescent bulb cast a yellow glow, which was perhaps why Chip didn’t look so good. He had the face and b
ody of a young person, but his skin was gray and pale, his hair prematurely balding, his eyes bloodshot. A few brown wisps were combed over his shiny forehead. “That way,” he said, and pointed down the stairs.

  “You’re not coming?” Andrew asked.

  “Not tonight,” he said.

  Andrew walked down the narrow staircase. When he got to the bottom, there was another door. He looked back up the stairs, intending to thank Chip, or perhaps assure himself that he wasn’t an apparition.

  He was still there, still pointing. “Go on, go on,” he said.

  Andrew slipped through the door. He found himself in a small room lined with books. In the center of the room sat Laura, John, Matt, and Goatee Seth.

  “Hey, sorry, I’m late—” he started to say.

  “Shhh,” Seth said.

  Andrew stopped. Then he realized they were praying. Their heads were bowed and their eyes were closed. There were only four chairs in the room, and they were occupied. Laura was wearing a light blue sweater over a jean skirt. Her feet were tucked up under her. Her hair was braided and coiled around her head in the same fashion as her younger sister. They must have been playing with each other’s hair. He gazed at her lovely face, at her slightly parted lips. Then he felt as if he were violating her while she communicated with her God, so he looked away. He studied the books. They were all Bibles.

  He sat on the floor and opened his own Bible. While the group prayed, he read the Psalm he’d chosen, lingering over his favorite parts.

  Be merciful to me, LORD, for I am faint;

  O LORD, heal me, for my bones are in agony.

  My soul is in anguish.

  How long, O LORD, how long? . . .

  I am worn out from groaning;

  all night long I flood my bed with weeping

  and drench my couch with tears.

  “Cool,” he whispered. He liked the language, which struck him as overwrought, torrid, and even erotic. The “worn out from groaning” bit also meant something to him personally. It was the way he often felt about Laura. Exhausted from wanting her and not getting what he wanted. He wondered if Laura or Matt or even John would be able to discern this in his choice of Psalm.

  He looked at the silent group again. They were still at it. He forced himself to shift his gaze from Laura to Matt, from Matt to John. He even studied Goatee Seth’s stern serious face. He didn’t have a watch, but he felt like he’d been there for at least fifteen minutes. He wondered about Chip. He remembered the strange story that Matt had told him about Chip at the Bible camp. The incident seemed to upset Matt because of Chip’s apparent loss of faith, but it bothered Andrew for other reasons. Why would the youth pastor drag Matt off in the middle of the night? Why would he confess such a thing to someone so much younger than himself? And what was he doing here now, lurking around instead of joining his flock? Andrew tried to shrug off his apprehensions. It was none of his damn business. He was here for Laura. Andrew leaned back against a wall of Bibles and closed his eyes.

  • • •

  “Andrew?” Someone shook him lightly.

  He jerked awake. “Sorry, I must have fallen asleep,” he said. He looked at Matt.

  “I know you’ve got a demanding job,” Matt said.

  “Have you accepted Christ into your heart?” asked Goatee Seth.

  Matt was crouching down next to him. John, Laura, and Seth were still seated in their prayer circle. John was looking at the floor, his hands loosely wound in his lap. Laura was fiddling with her necklace. Seth was frowning at him. Andrew extended his hand to Matt, who took it and hoisted him to his feet.

  “Not yet,” Andrew said.

  25

  “We start with thirty minutes or so of silent prayer,” Seth said. His expression was severe, made perhaps more severe by his little beard. At first Andrew didn’t respond, then he realized that something was expected of him.

  “Sorry I missed the prayer part,” he said. “I didn’t realize the location changed.”

  “My fault,” Matt said. “I called you at the last minute.”

  “Who’d you talk to?” Andrew said.

  “Your mother,” Matt said.

  “How’d she sound?” Andrew said.

  Matt was about to respond when Seth said, “And then we discuss a chapter and verse selected by our youth pastor. Only he couldn’t be here tonight.”

  “Actually, I think he’s here somewhere. He told me to come down here,” Andrew said.

  “No one is here but us,” Seth said.

  So he was just lurking around, Andrew thought. Out loud he said, “Whatever. Someone told me to come down here. I didn’t make them up.”

  “No one is saying that,” John said, looking up for the first time.

  “This is a waste of time,” Seth said.

  “Let’s talk about doubt,” Laura said suddenly. “Doubt and belief.” She looked at Andrew as she spoke. Her eyes seemed to twinkle, and she smiled invitingly. She closed her Bible and placed it on a table behind her.

  “Chip said we shouldn’t just talk without guidance,” Seth said, holding up his Bible.

  “He certainly does,” Matt muttered. Only Andrew heard.

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Everyone seemed to be looking at John. He’s second in command, Andrew realized. Goatee Seth was trying to take charge, but they didn’t really respect him. And John was staring at the floor again. Andrew cleared his throat.

  “I picked out a Psalm that I like,” he said.

  “Will you read it to us?” Matt said.

  “Yes, I’d like that,” Laura said, ignoring Seth, who was sputtering.

  Andrew opened his Bible and ran his finger along the words of Psalm 6. He felt like laughing all of a sudden. The dynamics of the group amused him. He’d expected to be out of his league, to be intellectually tested in some way that would demand he rise to the occasion, sort of like arguing with Marcia. But the study group was rudderless without Chip and with John apparently checked out.

  Andrew cleared his throat and was about to read when the door opened and a girl walked in. Andrew recognized her immediately. It was Karen, the bitchy girl from the soup kitchen. She was dressed in a short tight skirt and white T-shirt that was knotted at her waist. Tan lines from her bathing suit graced her collarbones and long thin neck.

  “What are you doing here?” Seth said.

  “He’s invited to your study group and I’m not?” she asked, jerking her head toward Andrew.

  “John invited him. It wasn’t my idea,” Seth said.

  Karen flicked her eyes at John. “Oh,” she said.

  Andrew looked back and forth between Seth and Karen. Those pointy severe features, he realized; they were brother and sister.

  Laura rose from her seat and embraced Karen. The two girls held each other tightly for several moments until Laura pulled away. “Come on, sweetie,” she said. “You know you’ve never shown an interest.”

  “I am interested,” Karen whined. “Take me seriously.”

  “How can we when you barely show up for anything else?” Seth said.

  “Guys, not here,” Laura said.

  “Laura’s right,” Matt said.

  “We’ll come back and do this right next week. And, Karen, you’re welcome to join us,” John said.

  “Really?” She smiled at John.

  John clasped his hands together and bowed his head. The others followed suit. Andrew bowed his head too, but he didn’t close his eyes. John recited the Lord’s Prayer. His voice dropped to a deep murmur. It was very natural, Andrew thought, the way they prayed together, the way they carried each other’s words. It was like a beautifully rehearsed play, the actors gliding around one another like a harmonious school of pretty fish.

  When they were finished, Karen and Seth slipped off together. As soon as the door cl
osed behind them, they started to argue.

  “You’re so immature,” Seth hissed.

  “You think excluding me will get you in with them. . . .” Karen’s voice trailed off as they walked up the stairs. Laura rolled her eyes at Matt.

  They’re the cool kids, Andrew thought, and Seth is an interloper who wants, as Karen put it, in. It didn’t surprise him, now that he thought about it. John, Laura, and Matt were attractive and smart and confident. The social dynamics of their youth group resembled the social dynamics of any group of teenagers, regardless of whether Jesus was involved.

  “Brother and sister?” Andrew said to no one in particular.

  “Twins,” Laura said.

  “They really shouldn’t bicker like that all the time,” Matt said.

  “Seth seems kind of harsh,” Andrew said.

  “We shouldn’t talk about them when they’re not here,” John said.

  “You’re so right,” Laura said to John. She smiled at him, and her eyes glowed with admiration and respect. Andrew grimaced.

  “This isn’t how it usually goes,” Matt said to Andrew.

  “Oh?” Andrew said. His eyes were on John and Laura, whose heads were close together as they examined something in her Bible. John seemed to be explaining something to her.

  “Last week we were discussing the power of redemption,” Matt said.

  “What about it?” Andrew said, not looking at Matt and trying to hear what John was saying to Laura.

  “Andrew,” Matt said.

  “Yeah?” Andrew said.

  “Your mom. She sounded kind of upset.”

  Shit, Andrew thought. He hadn’t thought to check in with his mother while he was staying at the Avella office. She was probably upset because of the charges. Maybe there were some new developments? He would stop by later. In the meantime he would try and salvage what he could from the study group.

  “You need a ride home?” he asked Laura.

  “I’m all set,” she said. She barely glanced at him as she spoke.

  “All right. Bye,” Andrew said.

  “Call me later, okay?” Matt said to Andrew.