by Alana Terry
“Pffft.” Willow tossed her hair. “You know me. I’d go absolutely crazy in my dorm room all day. If I’m not hanging out here, I’d probably be at the mall exposing myself to every pathogen known to humankind. I’ve been taking zinc droplets since I was two weeks old. I’ve got a wicked strong immune system. Besides, it’s not like either you or the kid are sick, right? I mean, this is all just precautions at this point, isn’t it?”
“Kennedy!” Woong shrieked again.
“What?” Kennedy ignored Willow’s bemused grin.
“Can you make some popcorn while we play Battleship?”
Kennedy glanced at her roommate. “So you want to hang out for a while?”
Willow shrugged. “Not like I’ve got anything better to do. You have no idea how bad it sucks. Oh wait, is sucks one of those words that’s gonna get me in trouble? I know this is a pastor’s house and all.”
Kennedy wished Willow hadn’t flaked out on their new-believer’s Bible study. They could actually talk about things like grace versus legalism. She was pretty sure Willow pictured the entire Christian life as a big list of dos and don’ts. No wonder she hadn’t kept up her original spiritual momentum.
“You’re fine,” she said. “Just be careful around Woong. I don’t think his parents let him use that word.”
“Ok, I’ll be good. I promise.” Willow shot her a dazzling smile, and the two girls walked into the dining room.
Woong was sitting in front of his Battleship display, shielding it from view. “What’s for snack?” He scrunched up his eyes and stared at Willow. “And why’s her hair that color? Were you born that way, or did you get it painted?”
“Dyed,” Kennedy corrected.
“Who died?” Woong’s eyes widened. “Someone died?”
“No, I was just talking about Willow’s hair.”
“Her hair’s dead? Do you mean all the way dead or just mostly dead? ’Cause there’s a difference, you know.”
“I just mean when you color your hair, you say that it’s dyed.”
“Dead.”
“What?”
“You can’t say that something is died. You say something is dead. That’s better grammar.”
“Ok.” Kennedy chose to drop the vocabulary lesson. “Hey, listen. Your mom and dad are coming home early, so you ...”
“They are?”
“Yeah, so you need to go get your room extra clean so it’s perfect by the time they get back, ok?”
Woong cocked his head to the side. “What do I get if I do a good enough job?”
Kennedy wasn’t in the habit of entering into negotiations with third-graders. “Popcorn?”
He frowned. “No. You need to ask me what I want.”
“Fine. What do you want?”
He put on his most serious facial expression. “I want my father back, you ...”
“All right,” she interrupted quickly. “That’s enough movie quotes for today. Go clean up.”
The excitement in his eyes clouded over, and he slumped away from the table with a half-hearted, “Ok.”
Kennedy started to clear the table, wondering how long it would take her to get the kitchen presentable again.
“Looks like we’re on the set of Titanic before everyone dies,” Willow stated helpfully.
Kennedy didn’t respond. She was busy glancing through the texts she’d missed from her dad. More casualties. More confirmed cases. More states. More cities. More lists of symptoms to look out for. Kennedy browsed through the list and figured anyone with a pulled hamstring, ear infection, or stubbed toe could find a way to convince themselves they were about to die.
She sighed.
Willow glanced up from the Battleship board she’d been looking over. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, just my dad.”
“Yeah, I bet he’s freaking out about this whole thing.”
“He’s been freaking out for the past three weeks.” Kennedy remembered the day the first Nipah case was confirmed in the States. Her dad wanted her to go to the nearest drugstore and buy a case of at least a hundred face masks, fully expecting her to wear one every time she went out in public. He told her not to eat anything cooked in the cafeteria but to buy canned things and heat them up in her dorm room after washing her hands with antibacterial soap and ideally a few additional squirts of Germ-X.
Kennedy tuned him out at that point, told herself he was overreacting. Was this like the boy who cried wolf? Had her dad freaked her out so many times in the past over inconsequential nothings that now, when her life really might be in danger, she’d chosen to all but completely ignore his instructions?
“Don’t let him get under your skin.” Willow gave her a reassuring rub on the shoulder. “He’s just trying to look out for you.”
“Yeah, I know.”
One more load of dishes later, Kennedy and Willow sat across from each other sharing some of Sandy’s raspberry tea. Woong’s battle sounds and impressively accurate impressions of Andre the Giant from the back room told Kennedy he was at least happy, even if he wasn’t cleaning.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t make it to New York,” Kennedy said. That’s all Willow had been talking about for weeks. “You must be really disappointed.”
Willow let out a melodramatic sigh. “Yes and no. I mean, it totally blows ... I mean, it totally stinks that I’m gonna miss all those shows, you know? I was really looking forward to that. But then there’s part of me that thinks I actually jinxed myself out of it. I don’t know. Does the Bible say anything about jinxes, or is that too hocus-pocus for Christians to believe in?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I was gonna be hanging out with all my friends. I mean, it wasn’t only about Broadway, of course. And I’ve been trying to cut back on certain things now that I’m saved. I’m not saying I’m doing a perfect job, and you probably know that better than anyone else, but I swear to ... I mean, I can honestly say I’m trying really hard. But that’s just the thing. You made it sound like I ask Jesus into my heart, I ask him to forgive me of my sins, and then he gives me so much joy and happiness and hope it’s like I never look back on all the stuff I had to leave behind. I mean, can you believe I haven’t smoked a single joint in six weeks? I’m serious. I don’t think I’ve been this clean since before I started getting periods. I’m not joking.”
Kennedy glanced down the hall just to make sure Woong hadn’t popped out of his room to eavesdrop.
“And at first, it was sort of like that. That joy and stuff. A little bit.” She shrugged. “I mean, I felt something at least. And then that Bible study we were doing, it kept talking about all these things like those spiritual fruits and all that stuff, and I’m sure it’s great, but it just made me realize how far I’ve got to go to be like you. I mean, the vocabulary, everything. It was as bad as if I were to jump into your organic chemistry class mid-semester and even though you offered to be my study partner, you couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t keep up. I mean, I don’t even know the difference between an atom and a molecule without looking it up, but you’d be talking about chemical equations and blah blabetty blah blah stuff like that, and that’s kind of how it’s felt these past couple months. Like you’re so far ahead I’m bound to disappoint you. I mean, I’m already disappointed in myself.”
Kennedy didn’t know what to say. She wanted to apologize, but Willow kept on talking.
“When I prayed with you that night and asked Jesus into my heart or whatever you want to call it, that night I told him I wanted him to forgive my sins, I really meant it. You said if I was sincere, he’d answer my prayers. And then the first few weeks passed, and the novelty sort of died down. I don’t know if that’s my fault or what, but it did, and then all of a sudden I realized what a hypocrite I was, and I don’t know if you can understand this, being a goody-goody God’s girl and all that. And I don’t say that to be mean — I seriously envy you. Because it’s so easy for you. You’ve never slept around, you’re as clean as
a whistle, your boyfriend’s like Mr. Chastity Belt or whatever the male equivalent of that is, and it all just comes so easy to you. But here I am, I’m trying my hardest, and I keep waiting for that joy and stuff you told me was supposed to happen when I got saved, except it didn’t. At least not for very long. I kept going through the motions for a little while, doing our Bible study and all that, but I knew myself. I hadn’t really changed.
“So New York came up, and I really wanted to go be with my friends. I’m sure if I had asked, you would have told me it was a bad idea. Hanging out with all those old influences. But you never said I had to stop being friends with everyone from the past when I became a Christian. And I wanted to go. I felt a little guilty about it. I knew there’d be drinking and stuff going on. I didn’t really want to get back involved in that, but by then it’d been so long since I’d felt anything of that happiness you promised me that I figured I may as well go to New York with my friends and just see what happened. It wasn’t like I was planning to jump off the wagon there or anything, but who would have been that surprised if I did, you know?
“So when I heard today the trip got cancelled, I got even more freaked out. Like maybe God’s mad at me for thinking about going in the first place. And you never said it counts as sin before you’ve actually done something wrong, but maybe it does. Or maybe I’m not saved at all. Because if I was, I probably shouldn’t be experiencing all these temptations and things. I’m just starting to wonder if it really worked that night I prayed. Maybe I didn’t believe hard enough. I tried. I swear to ... I mean, I promise I tried as hard as I could. But what if it wasn’t enough faith? What if it didn’t count? So now, I’ve given up my friends, my fun, and I don’t even get heaven out of it. Excuse my language, but that just sucks.”
“Yeah. You’re right.”
Willow leaned forward in her seat. “Huh?”
“I was just thinking out loud. And I mean, you’re right. If you give up all the fun of the world and don’t get anything out of it, that’s a terrible exchange.” She didn’t know what else she was supposed to say. She’d been so excited last winter when Willow’s finally accepted Christ. It was the first time Kennedy had shared the gospel with anybody, and a new soul had been accepted into the family of God. What could be more thrilling? And then the weeks passed, and Willow’s enthusiasm for her new-found faith started to wane, and Kennedy was left wondering what went wrong.
She still wondered what went wrong. Had she given Willow false promises? Wasn’t God’s Spirit supposed to be enough to make up for the party-life she had left behind?
“I wish I knew what to tell you,” she sighed. If Sandy were here, she’d have all kinds of encouragement to pour out into Willow’s spirit. In fact, the very first weekend after Willow got saved, Sandy had the two girls over for a huge barbecue ribs feast with a side of tofu stir-fry for Willow. It was the same night she gave Kennedy and Willow that new-believer’s Bible study to go through. It should have worked.
Willow frowned into her cup. “Well, they say religious fervor is genetically inherited. Maybe I’m just not one of the lucky ones.”
There had to be another explanation. What could Kennedy say? She needed to talk to Dominic. He always had the right words of wisdom to offer in situations like these. Two years ago, Kennedy might have told Willow to pray and read her Bible more. That seemed to be the catch-all solution to anybody interested in growing in their spiritual walk. But after suffering for over a year now from her PTSD, Kennedy realized that daily devotions weren’t some sort of Band-Aid you could throw on whenever you wanted a spiritual pick-me-up. There was more to it than that.
She just didn’t know what.
“I’m really sorry you’ve been struggling like this. You should have told me sooner.” She tried not to make her voice sound accusatory. Willow was suffering from enough guilt as it was.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to bother you. I mean, like I said, you’ve had it so easy ...”
“Maybe that’s what happened,” Kennedy interrupted, still thinking out loud and hoping that somehow God might show up and help her words make sense. “I mean, I really wanted you to know what it was like to be a Christian, and I didn’t want to scare you away from the faith or anything, so a lot of my own struggles I kept hidden. Like that PTSD stuff. I’m still a mess. You know that. At least, I think you know that. God hasn’t healed me completely yet. I pray he does. I hope he does. It doesn’t make sense to me how if the Bible says ask and you shall receive, I could ask him to take my flashbacks away and have him tell me no, he’s not going to do that. I struggle with that one a lot. So maybe we’re not going through the same kind of issues, but neither one of us has it figured out. Not even close.”
“So, what exactly does that mean?” Willow asked. “Like, you get a flashback and start wondering if God exists? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“No, but I start to doubt if he’s as powerful as he says he is. I mean, of course I know he is, but then I wonder why if he’s all that powerful he doesn’t just make my issues disappear? I’ve heard of people he’s done that for. I know it’s possible. So if he’d do it for someone else, why not me? I don’t doubt he exists, but I do wonder if maybe it’s my own lack of faith that’s keeping him from answering my prayers.”
Willow didn’t say anything.
“I don’t know if I’m making any sense right now. I’m probably just confusing you even more.”
Willow sighed. “No, it’s ok. It’s good to hear I’m not the only one with those kinds of questions.”
“I wish I had more answers for you,” Kennedy admitted.
Willow offered a faint smile. “Maybe that’s why they call it faith, right?”
Kennedy tried to smile back, but her heart ached for her friend. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Over Christmas break when Willow first started expressing an interest in Christianity, Kennedy had pictured the two of them bonding like sisters, taking their friendship to deeper levels. Willow’s conversion was supposed to give Kennedy that deep Christian fellowship she’d always hoped to find in college. They could pray together at night, study the Bible together in the morning. It’d be like having a built-in accountability partner and prayer partner all rolled into one blissful friendship.
Instead, the two girls had drifted farther apart over the past few months. Willow was so careful about everything now, so worried about offending Kennedy or saying something wrong. If it wasn’t about when to turn the lights out or who would be back to their dorm room when, the girls hardly talked at all.
“So, you’re probably gonna tell me it was God who started the whole epidemic, just so I wouldn’t go to New York and start partying again, right?”
Kennedy stared past Willow’s shoulder at all the dishes that still needed to get washed and put away. “Well, I’m sure there’s got to be more to it than that. If all he wanted to do was cancel your trip to New York, he could have done it in a lot of simpler ways.”
“Like infecting me with Nipah?”
Kennedy wasn’t sure if Willow was being sarcastic or not. “No, he doesn’t work like that. It’s not a punishment.” She hoped she was speaking the truth. Didn’t the Bible say Christians were no longer under God’s wrath? But what about the other verses that talked about his discipline?
“It doesn’t seem fair that a bunch of innocent people should catch a disease and die because I was about to go to New York and get involved in stuff I wasn’t supposed to.”
“No, God doesn’t do it that way.” Kennedy tried to think up a Bible verse that would prove her point. Where was Dominic when she needed him?
“What about those freaks ... I mean those evangelists like that Hopewell guy who gets up on TV and says you’ve just got to have faith and everything’s going to work out? Or if you’re sick or something and don’t get better, it’s because you’ve sinned. Isn’t that why that one family stopped giving their son chemo? I mean, I guess I always assumed faith healers were just a bunch of
quacks, but now that I’m saved, am I supposed to take what they say more seriously?”
Kennedy didn’t pay much attention to preachers like that. Even Dominic, who believed more fervently in the power of prayer than anyone Kennedy had met, disagreed with that sort of prosperity gospel, or at least he disagreed with the way it was presented by the big-name televangelists. “No, for the most part I think I probably agree with you.”
“So sickness isn’t, like, some big punishment from God. That’s what you’re saying? That it doesn’t mean you’ve sinned or something if you get sick?”
“I don’t think so.”
Willow let out a heavy sigh. “And what do you think about the whole Nipah thing, anyway? Not spiritually, just in general. Figure it’ll get a lot worse?”
“I don’t know.” Kennedy didn’t want to admit she’d been basically ignoring the entire epidemic, thinking until recently it was just another of her dad’s overreactions.
“You think the kid’s gonna be ok? If he was at that school ...”
Kennedy shook her head. She was pretty sure Woong was still engrossed in his Princess Bride reenactment, but she didn’t want to risk him overhearing. The poor boy had lived through enough torment already before coming to the States. He didn’t need another scare on his hands.
Kennedy stood up when her cell phone rang. “Hold on,” she told Willow. “That’s probably my dad freaking out again. I better get it before he has a heart attack or something.”
She headed to the counter and glanced at the phone.
“Hello?”
“Kennedy.” Sandy’s voice on the other line was breathless.
Kennedy’s gut tightened. “Yeah?”
“We’re back in town, but something happened. Carl’s not doing well. We’re on our way to the ER at Providence right now.”
“What is it?” Kennedy asked, trying to keep her voice from betraying her fears.
“I don’t know. But please, would you find my journal, the one I keep up on the counter by the Bible and prayer box? A few pages in, you’ll see the numbers for the St. Margaret’s prayer chain. Could you call them, honey? I know it's a lot to ask. I think we have about fifteen names there. If you don't get a hold of them right away, just leave a message and ask them to call the people below them on the prayer chain when they get the chance.”