Gods & Monsters(5)

I wanted to ask why, but I only nodded. At the time I had no idea who that new boy was. But I knew if my mom was going so crazy, then he must be related to the Adamses.

After dinner, I overheard my mom and dad talking in the living room. Mom told him about the arrival of the new neighbor and asked if all the rumors were true. My mom’s voice is shrill and in contrast to that, my dad’s voice is lower and calmer. I moved from the dining table where I was reading a book and hid behind the wall to listen in.

That’s when I knew the monster baby was alive and he moved here from New York City, the big, bad city, after all.

“David and Delilah are dead,” Dad said. “They died in a car crash. Peter’s his only living relative.”

“Well, good riddance, then. God sees everything. It’s time justice is served and evil is defeated.”

My mom is a big believer in God and monsters. I don’t know where she gets these ideas from because in church, we don’t talk about the devil. Father Knight talks about forgiveness, but whatever. My mom thinks God has a way of punishing the evil and taking out the monsters. God’s always watching, she says. My dad, however, is super chill. He never raises his voice and never argues with Mom. I try to imitate that. It’s better once Mom has it out of her system. So we can all have peace.

But right then, I was angry and sad. So sad. David and Delilah were dead. Full disclosure: I don’t hate them, not like other people do, not like my mom does. I don’t think they are monsters. Though I will admit that I’m curious. Over the years, I’ve wondered how it all happened. How could they have fallen in love where there was no chance of ever falling in love? It’s like growing a flower in a swamp. How does something like that happen?

In my room upstairs, as I was getting ready for bed and saying a prayer, I thought of Abel Adams. In my sadness, I’d forgotten that he was the one without a mom and dad. I couldn’t imagine being alone like that in the world. Even though my mom could be a bit much, I still loved her. Plus, my dad was the bomb. He was the greatest dad ever.

I climbed off my bed and crept to the window. Wrapping my hands around the iron bars, I looked into the night, toward Mr. Adams’s house with the leafless tree and a falling apart porch, wondering what Abel was doing right that second.

I hoped he was sleeping well.

It’s Sunday morning now and I’m sitting on a hard pew at church, in the back. My legs are short so they don’t reach all the way to the ground and I’m swinging them to and fro, imagining I’m outside, in the park on an actual swing. Preferably without the stupid, tight church shoes – black ballet flats – and without the tight braid that’s making my scalp itch.

I’m sorry to say but Sunday service can be a little boring. No offense to God or anything. It’s just that I’d rather be out in the sun. Plus, it’s always gorgeous at nine AM on Sundays. Not my fault.

Anyway, I’m sitting in the back with Sky, whose feet do touch the ground. I hate that. My mom’s up front with Mrs. Weatherby and they’re busy chatting about something, probably about how much baking powder to add into their cookies. My dad’s sitting with Mr. Knight, the cop, and the most important person in town aside from his brother, Father Knight. My dad and Mr. Knight are great friends, went to school together and everything.

We’re all waiting for the service to begin when Sky leans over. “I think we should make a break for it.”

“What?”

She gestures with her chin. “The door. Let’s sneak out.”

“No way.” My eyes are wide. “We’ll get caught.”

“Not if we do it right.”

“No. We’re not doing it.” I shake my head. A big shake.

She sits back with a huff. “You’re such a party pooper, Evie. You poop on my parties.”

“I do not.” I nudge her with my elbow. A hard nudge.

“Ow,” Sky squawks and retaliates. Obviously.

She digs her elbow into my side and now I’m the one saying ow. Before we know it, we’re hitting each other, whisper-yelling and throwing each other glares when someone clears their throat over us. Loudly.

We both freeze with our hands in the air, all ready to strike. Sky’s the one to see who it is; my back is turned.

She beams up at the person. “Hey, Mr. B. How are ya?”

I deflate, lowering my arms. Oh, thank God. It’s only Mr. Bernard. He’s the nicest man ever with a kind, wrinkled face and white mop of hair. He’s the one who sneaks me chocolates when my mom isn’t looking. He’s totally safe. I thought it was someone else, someone like my mom or Mrs. Weatherby or any number of snitches.

“Good. Good.” He chuckles. “Though you ladies don’t seem to be doing that well. Are we fighting again?”

I turn around to face him, grinning. “Hey, Mr. B. You know how violent Sky is.”

Sky bumps my shoulder from behind. “Evie isn’t that gentle either.”

“Hey!” I point my finger at her. “I’m gentle, okay? I’m a lady.” I whip back around to face Mr. B. “Tell her, Mr. B. Tell her…” I trail off when I see someone step out from behind Mr. B.

It’s the new boy. Abel.

It’s a surprising thing because Peter Adams, his uncle, never attends Mass. So I figured Abel wouldn’t either. But he is here, all tall and… golden.