Catholic, Reluctantly (The John Paul 2 High Series)

by Christian M. Frank

  “Yeah, George!” Celia yelled, grabbing George’s shoulders from behind and shaking him.

  “Quit it!” George said, grinning.

  “Pester, Sean… Tarrant, Daniel… Vickson, Marshall…” Coach Lamar finished reading and looked up. “That’s it. Everyone whose name was called: practices are Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and we begin next Monday after school. If you’ll just come forward now, we’ve got some information for you…”

  But George was too busy explaining things to Brian to pay much attention. “I bet you got in because of your weight. They probably don’t have anyone as light as you.”

  “Really?” Brian said, looking less thrilled.

  “Well, yeah,” George said. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t be a good wrestler. The weight thing just helps, that’s all. I’ll practice with you, don’t worry.”

  He was thoroughly excited, but before his mind could race away, he remembered to say a prayer: thanks, God. He knew he owed God one. After all, this is where it had all begun—he’d prayed his way through every wrestling competition, and won. He was just glad God had found a way to let him wrestle again.

  How did I do?” Tyler crowed, strutting up to Allie as George, Celia and Brian went outside to wait for their rides. “Not bad, eh?”

  “Oh…” Allie suddenly realized that she hadn’t even been watching Tyler. “Oh, you did awesome,” she said smoothly, and hoped it was true. Not that Tyler would notice; he obviously thought he had done awesome.

  “Yeah,” Tyler agreed. “Well, I didn’t have much for competition. Looks like I’ll have to carry the squad again this year, as usual.”

  Allie thought of George’s spectacular performance, but decided not to mention it.

  “You know what’s really going to be fun, though?” Tyler said, a wicked gleam in his eye. “The first day of practice.”

  Something about his tone of voice made Allie look up suspiciously.

  “Why?” she asked. “What happens the first day of practice?”

  Tyler laughed. “You don’t want to know. Let’s just say that we give ‘em a warm welcome.”

  An unpleasant memory cropped up in Allie’s mind: getting off the bus and seeing some guy—he looked like a freshman—tied to the school flagpole. Apparently he had been on the football team, and everyone figured that the seniors had something to do with it. But it was also apparent that no one would be punished for it. It looked like that sort of thing happened in wrestling, too.

  Then an even worse thought came to mind: the thought of something like that happening to George, or Brian. She glanced at Tyler, and thought: would he do something like that? I wouldn’t put it past him…

  “Why am I even dating you?” she grumbled.

  “Because I’m so cute,” said Tyler, grabbing her hand. “Come on, babe. I’ll take you to the mall. Buy you something.”

  Allie grimaced. She hated it when Tyler called her “babe.”

  The rest of the week passed more quickly for Allie. She still longed to be back at Sparrow Hills, but she had to admit that Mr. Costain’s classes were interesting.

  Still, she was drowning in the unfamiliar information about Church history, saints, theology, the Catechism of the Catholic Church, and the people with weird names that Mr. Costain loved quoting: Von Balthazar, Von Hildebrandt, T.S. Eliot, C.S. Lewis, G.K. Chesterton, and too many others. None of this is going to be helpful on a college application, she thought. It was just too different from anything else she’d ever studied.

  What made it more confusing was that Creepy Boy, as she thought of James, argued with Mr. Costain whenever he quoted these people, saying they were modernists, heretics, or something else that was supposed to be bad. Allie couldn’t see what the problem was, and most of the time she wished James would just shut up. But Mr. Costain, like Celia, was always patient with him. She could tell this drove George nuts too.

  Friday, during a particularly interesting history lesson on the early heresies, where Mr. Costain explained that The Da Vinci Code was just a reworking of something called ‘Gnosticism’ that had been proven to be false ages ago, Mrs. Flynn came into the classroom.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, her forehead creased with worry. “The inspector’s on the phone again.”

  Mr. Costain excused himself for a few minutes, but didn’t return. Finally Mrs. Flynn returned to say that history class was dismissed for the day.

  “Yes!” yelled J.P. His mother looked at him severely.

  “But Math class for freshmen will be starting early,” she said crisply. “J.P., Brian, Liz—in my classroom, now.”

  The older students remained in the classroom. James was reading another thick black book, this one with red flames on the cover. George stared out the window, while Celia talked about a book she was reading, something about theology for the bodies. Allie’s mind wandered.

  “Do you think we could run down to SpeedEMart?” she said when Celia paused for breath. Allie was not in the mood for the leftovers her mom had packed for lunch, and was really missing the salad bar at the Sparrow Hills cafeteria.

  Celia looked doubtful. “I don’t know…”

  But George was interested. “Why not? It’s right through the woods. We just need to get permission. Celia, go ask Mrs. Flynn. Don’t bother asking Mrs. Simonelli—she’ll just make us mop floors or something to pass the time.”

  Allie had already picked up that Celia would do anything that George asked her to do. “All right,” Celia said and left the room. George grinned at Allie. She could see he was feeling happy today; probably still riding high over making the wrestling team.

  Celia returned in a short time, saying they could go, but they had to be back ten minutes before the next period started.

  “James, do you want to come?” Celia asked, and to Allie’s surprise and disappointment, Creepy Boy eased himself out of his chair to follow them.

  It was a brisk fall day, with the leaves falling carelessly from the trees. Allie went ahead as the four of them walked out the front doors and around to the back of the school. George noticed that she seemed to know where she was going. She led them through the woods to a well-worn dirt path that none of them had noticed before.

  “This goes to the SpeedEmart,” she said. “If you go the other way, you can get to Sparrow Hills. It’s shorter than going by the road, and we used to run down here after school—or during school—to get snacks.”

  George found himself walking next to Allie, because Celia was with James, trying to make conversation. Celia was doing all the talking.

  “Weird rock,” George said to Allie as they came to a large, odd-shaped boulder, sort of triangular-shaped, sitting beside the path. It was as big as a shed. He noticed a dry stream bed nearby that ran deeper into the woods.

  “That’s Chimney Rock,” Allie said.

  “Why’s it called that?” George asked.

  “Uh, because it looks like a chimney,” Allie said with a knowing smile.

  George couldn’t see what the joke was. “Right.”

  “Hey, when’s your first wrestling practice?”

  “Monday,” George said, surprised she was asking about a sport she couldn’t stand.

  She had a serious look on her face. “Be careful,” she said enigmatically.

  “Of what?”

  She shrugged, coloring. “Maybe you don’t need to be careful, but if I were you, I’d watch out for Brian.”

  “Why?”

  “Just keep an eye on him, okay?”

  “Sure,” he said, staring at her. He was surprised that someone like Allie cared about a geek like Brian. It was a different side of her than he had seen.

  The trail ended, and they came out of the woods into the parking lot of the SpeedEMart. Celia checked her watch. “We better hurry up,” she said. “We only have thirty minutes.”

  Inside, they split up to buy things. Allie and Celia headed for the deli at the back. James went straight for the magazine rack and picke
d up a newspaper. George dug in his pockets and counted his money. He had only a few quarters. Maybe I could get a candy bar, he thought glumly. Nah.

  He meandered around the store, checking out the shelves halfheartedly, and trying to ignore the clerk who was watching him suspiciously as if he expected him to shoplift something. Relax, buddy, he thought.

  He glanced at the row of trashy magazines by the checkout counter There were girls in bikinis on all the covers, and his eyes kept being pulled in that direction. George tried to look somewhere else, half-afraid that Allie or Celia would notice him.

  In a few minutes the girls came back, Allie with a salad and Celia with a bagel. They all paid for their purchases and walked out.

  Allie and Celia were talking together as they walked back through the woods. George walked behind, trying to ignore James. When they came to Chimney rock, he turned toward the dry streambed. He felt an urge to get more of a feel for the lay of the land around here.

  “Guys! Wait up,” he said. “Hey Seal! Check out that dried creek. Doesn’t it look like the one at your uncle’s place in the Poconos?”

  She stopped. “Yeah, it does,” she said with interest. “Where we played Capture the Flag last Thanksgiving?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go check it out.” He added, before she could look at her watch, “You just said we had thirty minutes before we have to be back.”

  Intrigued, she gave in. Stuffing the remains of her bagel in her pocket, she jumped down behind him.

  George led the way down the streambed, which soon deepened into a narrow gully. In the thickening woods, he leapt from rock to rock with ease, smelling the mossy air. But he kept having to wait for the others: Allie and Celia couldn’t go as fast in their school shoes, and James was lurching and stumbling behind them with a disagreeable look on his face. He clearly wasn’t enjoying the exercise.

  The stream bed curved sharply. The walls of the gully loomed up on either side like miniature cliffs, and, where the stream rounded, there was a hollow in the cliff wall like a small cave. Sunlight spilled through the leaves onto the ground. There was no breeze; a quiet, still, oasis of green.

  “Wow,” Celia breathed, halting in admiration.

  “I’ve never been here before!” Allie skipped forward.

  They all stood there for a few moments in silence, taking it in.

  “What a great place,” Celia said softly. “It would be a cool place to…build a shrine to Mary. Or something. Wouldn’t it?”

  “A what?” Allie said, looking skeptical.

  “A place where we could come and pray,” Celia explained. “A private place. It’s a shame it’s not closer to the school. George, can’t you just see it? That place right there in the hollow of the rock—it looks like it’s asking for a statue of Mary to be put there.”

  George could see what she meant: a natural cave in the crevice of the creek bank seemed like a picture frame, standing empty. “Yeah, that would be cool. Seriously, that’s a great idea.”

  Allie had that weirded-out frustrated look on her face again. “Can’t you guys look at anything without thinking about Mary, or Jesus, or something?”

  George was embarrassed, and looked at Celia to see how she would respond. But Celia didn’t say anything right away. Then her eyes glazed over. “No, Allie,” she said in a misty voice. “We… can’t…help it.”

  George started to snicker, and put on the same monotone. “Yes, Allie, we’re…Catholic.” He started to walk towards Allie, stretching out his hands. “You must… join us…”

  The look on Allie Weaver’s face was precious. Her eyes widened until she couldn’t keep the too-cool-for-you look any more. Gaping at both of them as they closed in on her, she seemed to realize they were joking.

  “Back! Back!” she yelled, holding up her fingers to make a cross as though she were warding off a vampire.

  A sinister look crossed Celia’s face and she giggled and kept advancing. “No, that won’t work, Allie…we’re Catholic, remember? We love crucifixes…”

  Both girls collapsed in giggles. George grinned, relieved that Celia had figured out a way to make Allie laugh. He glanced back at James. He wasn’t laughing. He was leaning against a tree, a jealous, hungry look on his face.

  At last the girls recovered and started talking about the grotto, Celia imagining how they could arrange benches or fallen logs, and wondering where they could get a statue. George picked up a couple of acorns and practiced slinging them through the fork of a tree. James remained where he was, brooding.

  “It all depends on who owns this part of the woods,” Celia was saying to Allie. “If it belongs to the land our school is on, then maybe we could do it.”

  Allie looked thoughtful. “Maybe it belongs to the haunted mansion.”

  “What?” Celia said.

  “Oh, you never heard of that? Look over there.” Allie pointed through the woods.

  George looked where she was pointing. Through the tree trunks and underbrush they could barely make out an iron fence, and far beyond it, the high roof of a house.

  Allie said, “I’ve never been there, but I heard kids go over there sometime. Like, at Halloween, to do séances and stuff like that.”

  “Séances? Weird.” George said.

  “And dangerous.” Celia shivered.

  Allie shrugged. “Nobody knows what they do over there, but I heard some pretty creepy stories.”

  They all strained their eyes, trying to catch a better glimpse of the house in the distance.

  “BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHH!”

  They all jumped, and the girls screamed.

  James chortled with laughter, and pointed at the three of them. “Ahahaha! I got you! I got ALL of you!” He advanced on them, wriggling his big, long fingers. “Oooh, scared of things in the woods, are we?”

  Celia laughed nervously and backed away. “You really got us there, James.”

  “And I have you.” James snickered. “Right where I want you—BOO!” He lunged at Allie, who leapt back.

  “All right James, you got us,” George said. “Give it a rest, okay?”

  Allie had turned white.

  James laughed harder than any normal person would laugh. He kept wiggling his fingers and laughing and George’s scalp began to prickle. Unconsciously, he put himself between James and the two girls.

  “Cut it out,” George said brusquely. “No one else is laughing.”

  “That’s because no one else knows what I know.” James sniggered. “And what I know is…Bang!” He pointed his finger at Allie as though it were a gun.

  “SHUT UP!” Allie screamed suddenly. “Just shut up!” She lashed out at James. “You stupid gross fat CREEP! You total LOSER! Get AWAY from me!” Then she turned and ran, stumbling back down the stream bed in the direction of the school.

  “Allie!” Celia ran after her, distressed.

  George barred James’ way on purpose. “You stay away from her.”

  James has a stupefied look on his face. He blinked, his mouth open, as Allie vanished around the bend. He didn’t seem to comprehend why Allie had laughed at Celia and George but had screamed and run away from him.

  For a bare second, George had a glimpse of a guy who was fumbling in a strange world, watching everyone else’s behavior and trying to make sense of it; a fat, lonely guy who had no clue what was normal but was trying to do his best to figure it out…

  And then the cold familiar mask settled back onto James’ features, and the vulnerability vanished. James sneered. “What makes you think she’s yours?”

  George was so disoriented by the change that he couldn’t understand what James was saying. “What?”

  “I mean you,” James sneered, his face red with anger. “You watch her too.”

  George turned away. “Shut up,” he said brusquely. “We better get back.”

  He started down the streambed, painfully aware that he had his back to James. After a moment, he heard James walking slowly behind him.

  Celia
sidled up to Allie during biology class while they were dissecting crickets. “Hey, you okay?’

  Allie had been pretending that she was a very studious person who didn’t even notice that there were other people in the classroom. So when Celia came up to her, she barely looked up.

  “I’m okay,” she said, a fake expression of concentration on her face.

  “You sure?” Out of the corner of her eye, Allie could see Celia’s worried expression.

  For a moment, Allie wavered. Can I trust her? Can I trust anyone here?

  No. I don’t want to deal with it. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just got freaked out.” Allie frowned and pulled antennae off her specimen. “I don’t like the woods.”

  “James was a little overboard,” Celia said.

  “I don’t understand—” Allie said, placing the antennae on a napkin in front of her, “—what his deal is.” And before Celia could begin explaining, she added, “And I really don’t want to know.”

  After school, she got into Tyler’s car and nestled up against him.

  “Hey, babe,” Tyler said, surprised and pleased.

  Appreciating his strong arms and bulky muscles, she said, “Hey. Can we go to the mall?”

  George pedaled into the parking lot on Monday morning. He was early again; the only cars in the lot were Mr. Costain’s Volvo and Mrs. Flynn’s blue minivan. That meant that Celia and J.P. would be there. Celia would be in the office, helping her dad. J.P. would probably be doing something that would get him into trouble. He had been acting especially crazy since his mom had taken away his laptop: he had been playing Praxor’s Game on it with the sound turned off during school.

  I hope he doesn’t cause any trouble today, George thought as he walked down the hallway. I don’t want to be late for my first day of wrestling practice.

  “Hey George!” J.P. walked up to him with a goofy smile. “You know what today is?”

  “No,” George said. “What?”

  “October 4th!” J.P. said. “The feast of St. Francis!”

  “And what are you doing to celebrate it?” George said.

  J.P. gave him an affronted look. “Can’t a guy walk around the school without being accused of causing trouble?”