“Well, take Andrea for instance. You admitted yourself that you got involved with her these last two weeks, but you break up and you're doing just fine, thank you very much. But look at her. Do you think she's doing fine?”
I paused while he looked her way. “No, I guess not. In fact, she told me as much this morning.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“Pretty crummy.”
I sighed. “Well, that's a relief. At least you have some feelings–”
“Low blow, Catie. You act like I'm heartless. Do you really believe that?”
I considered this a moment. “Do you want me to be totally honest?”
“Do you think I can't take it?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I'm sure you can take it. I'm just not sure you want to.”
“Go ahead, give me your best shot.”
“This isn't a contest, Josh. We're just having an honest talk here, right?”
“Yeah, I'm sorry. Go ahead, I'm listening.”
“Okay, I think we were talking about how it doesn't bother you to go with a girl then break up–”
“Wait a minute, you're putting words in my mouth. I never said that.”
“Maybe not, but like they say, actions speak louder than words. For instance, when I broke it off with you just before the prom, you were back with Jenny the very next day–maybe even sooner.”
He didn't answer.
“So, see what I mean? you're one of those guys who can just love 'em and leave 'em. No big deal, right?”
“You're smart about a lot of things, Catie, but you haven't got me completely figured out–not yet anyway.”
I smiled. “Good thing too. But my point is, Josh, you have the potential to leave a path of broken hearts strewn along your path. And to tell you the truth, I don't think you're really like that, not deep down anyway. I don't think you really like hurting people.”
He nodded. “And you don't think I've ever been hurt before?”
Now I'm sorry, but this made me laugh. “Oh, I'm sure you've suffered some disappointments like in track and stuff like that, but I seriously doubt that you've ever been hurt by a relationship with a girl.”
He looked at me curiously, then forced a little laugh himself. “You don't think you hurt me then?”
I stared at him, shocked. Was he serious? “I hurt you?”
“It's not something a guy likes to show or even admit.”
For a moment I thought he was pulling my leg, but I could tell by his expression that he was dead serious. “Josh, if I hurt you, I am truly, from the bottom of my heart, sorry. I am. Can you believe that?”
“Yeah.” He made a half smile. “So, see? You didn't know me as well as you thought.”
I nodded soberly, too dumbfounded to try to figure this conversation all out just yet. “But I guess that just helps me make my point, Josh. You see, I don't want to get hurt in some dating relationship, and by the same token, I don't want to hurt anyone else either. That's why I'd rather just be friends with guys for now. It's so much simpler and no one gets hurt.”
“Well, I suppose it's starting to make more sense to me too. But that doesn't mean I'm going to give up girls yet.” He grinned mischievously.
“Duh. I didn't expect you to. Besides, I think it's between you and God. I was only trying to make you understand how I think and also how others can get hurt.”
“And now you're completely convinced that I do understand, from personal experience that was actually dished out from someone who's since removed herself from the game?”
“Yeah, and like I said, I'm really sorry. I had no idea. I mean, you just seem to snap your fingers and another girlfriend pops up like magic.”
“A guy doesn't always want another girlfriend.”
“Exactly. Just like I don't want another boyfriend. That's why I'd rather just have a boy for a good friend. To me that's a lot more valuable in the long run.”
He nodded. “You might be right.” Then he reached out to shake my hand. “Friends? You and me, for the long run?”
I smiled and shook his hand. “You bet. Friends, for the long run.”
Then he looked right into my eyes (okay, I knew he wasn't flirting by then, but I did feel my heart give this sharp little tug which I must admit bugged me considerably!) and he said, “Catie, you're quite a gal!”
Well, I just sort of laughed and glanced the other way (not wanting him to have any clue, after all we'd said, that I'd actually felt something beyond friendship) and who should I see staring right at us? Andrea. And let me tell you, if looks could kill, I think I'd be hamburger all over the floor. I tried to smile at her, but I'm afraid it came out more like a smirk (which I didn't intend at all), and now I'll have to go straighten everything out with her later. See, this is just one of those things I hate about this whole guy-girl relationship thing.
Since there seemed to be little else to say, I pulled out my diary and turned toward the window and started writing. Then Josh started talking to Zach, asking about whether he was all ready to head off for college or not. And then it hits me–these guys are moving on–next week even! We won't be seeing them around anymore. And, despite all that's gone on (all the hurts and heartaches), that still makes me pretty sad. To tell the truth, I really do like Josh and Zach a lot. And I'll miss them too.
I wonder if Beanie has considered this. She's sleeping right now. I'm so glad she got to come to Mexico. (And I don't have a single regret for spending a good part of my summer earnings on it.) Having her along reminded me of a side of her that I'd almost forgotten during the last several months–that deep kind of caring compassion that she's always had for people, the way she reaches out to the underdog no matter who they are. And I'd like to think I'm becoming more like that too. If I am, it's only because of God. And for that I say: THANKS, GOD!
ELEVEN
Friday, August 31 (back into the swing of things)
I think I slept for two whole days after we got back from Mexico late Monday night. Mom mercifully unpacked my bags for me and did all my laundry (something she hasn't done in years), but I think she was worried I'd brought home cooties or lice or something infectious (which I suppose is entirely possible). Then on Thursday, I went back to work. (Rita had asked before my Mexico trip if I could cover for her on Thursday and Friday before Labor Day.) But let me tell you, I'm totally beat tonight and really looking forward to three days of doing pretty much nothing (well, maybe a little last minute back-to-school shopping).
On Wednesday night, our church had a potluck dinner for the Mexico missions group. Dad had taken my film in to be developed, and I'd quickly mounted the photos on several pieces of colorful poster board with captions describing what was going on. The potluck was fun, and all the kids shared personal stories about what they'd done at the mission and how it had impacted their lives. And when my turn came I, naturally, told everyone about the garbage dump kids and all their suffering (probably a little too graphically, but we'd already eaten), and then I shared about my plan to help gather money to send to the mission specifically for those kids. Well, afterwards, it seemed like half the congregation or more came up to me with money in hand, and finally Stephie went and got a coffee can for everyone to put their donations in. Even Josh had managed to get his parents to write a check for $100 and promised to do more later.
Josh and I talked for a few minutes just as the evening was drawing to an end, and he told me about how he'd taken time to call and apologize to Andrea. A relief to me, since I'd already assured her that Josh and I were nothing more than friends and that when she'd seen me with him on the bus, we'd actually been talking about the pitfalls of dating and people getting hurt. At the time, I wasn't too sure she believed me, but maybe now she will.
Then Josh told me he was leaving for college the following day, and he slipped a little handwritten card into my hand with his college address on it. “Do you think you could write to me, Catie?” he asked in a shy sort of way, quickly adding
, “Just as friends, of course. I know how you like to write and everything, and I think it'd be fun to hear how you're doing, and what the youth group's up to and all that good hometown stuff.”
I assured him, I'd love to correspond. “Just don't get the wrong message if I write some really long letters. I do tend to get carried away with writing sometimes.”
“That'd be great. I'll appreciate whatever you send.” Then he said maybe he'd see me at Thanksgiving vacation, and I told him to enjoy college and that I'd be praying for him, and then (to my complete embarrassment) I got a little weepy, but I think he kind of liked it.
Zach's leaving for college next week too. He seems a little worried about it. I know he's got a lot on his plate. Even though he has a full athletic scholarship, he still has to work to pay for his room and board. I really hope it goes well for him; he's been through a lot lately. Beanie told me that they plan to keep in touch with letters too. “But only as friends,” she assured me, as if I've suddenly become the girl-guy relationship gestapo. Not!
When I got home, I counted out the donations in the coffee tin–to the grand total of $438.71!!! And I'm thinking that'll feed those kids for at least a month or more.
Anyway, I have the phone number of the mission, so I decided to call with my good news the next morning before I went to work. Of course, I had to leave a message, asking Alex to return my call, but thankfully, he hadn't left for college yet and was still down there.
But before he called me back, I put up my Mexico display (poster board and photos) in the lunchroom at work, along with a tin can for charitable donations that said, “Feed the kids” (I'm learning!). And now you wouldn't believe it, but everyone just kept talking about my photos and how sad the garbage dump business was, and when I checked the can at the end of the day on Thursday, it had $187.34 in it. And by the time I left today it had even more! And I think I'll leave it there for a while to allow everyone at work the chance to be “blessed,” as Aunt Steph would say.
So, when Alex called me this morning and I told him I've already collected almost $700 in donations, he's like totally jazzed! He said he has to leave for school soon, but he's got a guy named Hal Royer lined up to take over for him. I met Hal once; he's an older guy who does a lot of maintenance around the mission, kind of quiet, but really sweet spirited, as I recall. So, anyway, Hal is my new contact and everything will be sent care of him. Not only that, but I think I'll put a collection can (with photos) at church every Sunday, and maybe even a box for donating used clothing for kids. And, well, I'm just getting all sorts of ideas. This is going to be fun!
But like I said, I'm really beat right now. And even though it's a Friday night, I'm completely content to stay home and just hang with the family. And I don't think they mind a bit. Dad and Ben went out to rent some videos and pick up a box of Dove ice cream bars (a treat I haven't had since before Mexico), and I'm supposed to make some popcorn, so I'd better get at it!
Sunday, September 2 (is that really you, God?)
I'm feeling a little confused today. Or maybe overwhelmed or perhaps just challenged. I'm just not sure what it is exactly. But I'm feeling something–that's for sure!
Pastor Tony had this friend who's a missionary in Brazil speak in our church today. Kind of interesting, since we've had all this focus on Mexico lately. I guess we're becoming a real internationally aware church. A good thing, I'm sure. Well, at first, I must admit, I was a little wary of this guy because I didn't want him to steal the limelight from the focus on Mexico (more particularly, the garbage dump kids). But as soon as he began to talk, I forgot all about that. For one thing, he mentioned our trip down to Mexico right off the bat and how great it was that we were reaching out to those who were less fortunate (and he even mentioned how important it was that we were giving in order to feed the kids at the dump), and so then I just relaxed and listened.
And man, could this guy keep you at the edge of your seat! Now I'll admit I've never heard a missionary preach before, but I was totally blown away by this guy. (I mean, I'd always thought missionaries were boring, but let me tell you, this one was anything but!) One after the other, he told stories about the drug cartel and amazing miracles and contra rebels and incredible healings, not to mention hundreds of people getting saved all over the place. It seems that just all sorts of things are going on down in South America these days, both good and bad.
So after holding us spellbound for over an hour, he asked us all to bow our heads and close our eyes, then he gave this little invitation–nothing unusual, just offering everyone (who hadn't already) the opportunity to invite Jesus into their hearts. After that he paused for a few moments, then said he felt a strong impulse to give another sort of invitation, and that he thought it was for a young person. He explained how he rarely did anything like this, but he felt he should today. So anyway, once again he asked us to bow our heads (for privacy); then he asked if anyone out there felt God calling him or her to be a missionary. Well, I can't honestly say I heard God's voice calling me or anything specific or even audible, but my heart started to pound furiously, and I felt this really strong, overwhelming urge inside of me to raise my hand. And so I did. It was as if I couldn't help but do it.
Well, everybody still had their eyes closed (big relief) but the missionary guy looked me right in the eye and said, “I see your hand, my child. And so does God. Don't worry; He will lead you.” And that was it. I lowered my hand and looked down, and I could still feel my heart pounding and my cheeks burning as if I'd just admitted to being the village thief or something. But then the service ended and no one seemed to know what I'd done. Part of me started saying, “Okay, Cate, just forget about that whole thing. It was probably just an emotional response after your missions trip to Mexico.” But another part of me, a stronger part, kept saying, “Oh, my goodness, this is really for real!”
Now, it's not like I think some big missionary board is going to come looking for me or that I've been drafted into the Salvation Army or anything like that. But what worries me is this: I'm thinking what IF God really is behind this whole missions thing? What if God is really, truly calling me to be a missionary? I mean, it's just so totally weird. Who would ever believe that Caitlin O'Conner is going to become a missionary? Doesn't it sound totally ridiculous? And for that reason, I'm keeping my mouth shut, at least for now. Besides, I figure, if God is behind this, then (like the missionary guy said) not to worry because He can lead me. Right?
Besides, school starts in two days, and I really need to focus on that right now. So (if it's all the same to you, God) can I just not think about this anymore tonight? Gulp! A missionary?
Monday, September 3 (Labor Day)
Dad said he doesn't understand why Mom and I insisted on shopping on Labor Day (that it's supposed to be a day of rest and all), but we assured him we find fighting the crowds, searching for parking spaces in a hot parking lot, and then sniffing out the best buys to be quite restful. And actually, for me, it was sort of relaxing in a way. Nothing like a crowded mall full of materialistic consumers (including me!) to take my mind off of yesterday's sermon.
But the problem is, the whole shopping for back-to-school clothes seemed to fall sort of flat for me. I can't even really explain it, but I walked around in kind of a daze. I couldn't seem to focus on anything. Maybe it has to do with having just been in Mexico where there's so much poverty. I mean, they have so little and we have so much! Maybe I'm just looking at things with a whole different perspective. But suddenly I didn't feel all that interested in accumulating lots of cool stuff anymore. A lot of the clothes I'd worn last year seemed just fine to wear again this year. I mean, it's not like the styles have changed all that much anyway.
“Are you feeling okay, honey?” my mom asked with genuine concern after I turned down a great looking little top that I would've drooled over just weeks ago.
“Yeah, Mom. But I have lots of tops.” Then I mentally ran down my clothing needs list and the only thing I could think o
f that I really, truly needed (and “needed” was questionable) was a new pair of khakis since I got a bad tear in my others that day when Beanie and Andrea and I climbed over Lynn's fence. But to be a good sport, I continued working the mall with Mom and even agreed and acted all happy when she found a really great buy on a pair of Tommy Girl jeans. But to be perfectly honest, the shopping expedition brought me no pleasure.
“Well, how about underwear and socks?” she finally pleaded, as if she thought I was turning into a mental case. So I agreed and we spent about an hour picking out what seemed an inordinate amount of “necessities.”
Then we went out for a late lunch, and Mom grilled me some more about my health and everything. Was I taking my vitamins? Had I come home with any kinds of parasites or bugs that were making me act weird? Finally, she insisted on scheduling a physical for me, and to keep her happy, I agreed. And who knows, maybe I did contract some weird Mexican bug or virus. Because I must admit, I'm just not really feeling like myself today. Although it may have more to do with yesterday's hand raising than Mexico.
Tuesday, September 4 (my first day as a senior)
Well, I suppose it's kind of nice being a senior. And it was definitely cool to drive my own car to school, and I was so glad that Beanie was there with me. (I mean, just a couple months ago she was planning on getting her GED and becoming a mommy and everything.) But all in all, today just wasn't as great as I'd thought it would be.
I got all the classes I wanted, and it looks like I get to do the work experience program where I get off from school in the afternoon to continue working at my reception job (which I must remember to let Rita know since it was her idea in the first place). But all in all today seemed sort of anticlimactic. I'm not sure what I was expecting, though.
Several times today, I thought about the whole missionary thing again. But I still haven't told anyone. Not even Beanie. But I think I will allow myself to think about it some more. It's like I've been repressing it, as if it's this big, dark, scary thing that's going to eat me alive (which I know it's not). So now I'm telling myself, if this thing is from God, it can only be good. Right? And what can I possibly have to be afraid of? This rationale, I must admit, does make me feel a whole lot better. In fact, I might even talk to Pastor Tony about it. He might have some helpful thoughts to share.
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