Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father(58)

It takes me a minute, since sexual innuendo is largely absent here, but I catch on in time to smack him in the shoulder. “Oh, you know what I mean. Don’t be gross.”

“Fine. Three times. But only because I kind of want to watch the show.”

“What show?” I place my hands on my hips.

“You,” he nods toward me, “trying to be one of them.”

He turns on his heels and walks away. “I’d like to see that lip ring on you someday, Kennedy,” he calls over his shoulder.

Suddenly, in the middle of the dining hall, wearing more clothes than I’ve worn in my life, I feel stark naked. And I hope I haven’t made a huge mistake in inviting Matt. Where does he get off thinking I’m trying to be “one of them”? I wonder to myself as I navigate the path to the New Life campus with my head down. I want to talk this all over with Roland before my shift at Word.

Knocking on Roland’s door, I realize neither Matt nor I are right about me. I don’t know what it is I’m trying to be. All I’ve been doing so far this year is conducting a fact-finding mission about myself and my history. I need to spend a lot more time with Roland and with the kids around me. Rather than pure observation, I need to try on this evangelical skin to see how it feels. I can’t make a decision about next year or any year after if I don’t really try. I’ve been mulling over the idea of wanting to be flooded for quite some time, but it’s not really enough to simply sit back and want something.

“Hey, Kennedy,” Roland says when he opens the door. “This is a surprise.”

“I need to spend more time with you. I’m sorry for all the weird rules and stuff, and I still don’t want people to know I’m your daughter, but I need to spend more time in this life.”

“Well,” he looks startled but seems to be trying to hold it together, “I’m going out for a run. Want to come?”

I look down at my clothes and hold out my hands. “The dress code doesn’t really give me the option to just drop everything and run. Must be by design,” I joke.

Roland laughs. “I usually go on the trails downtown. I can swing you by your room so you can change your clothes.”

“Okay,” I agree, somewhat nervously.

A half-hour later, Roland and I are jogging through gorgeous trails at the base of some small mountain. The weather is cooling off slightly, but it’s still warmer than I suspect it is in Connecticut right now.

“Are your parents alive?” I start.

“Yes. They’re in their late sixties.”

“And they know about me?”

He nods and points left at a fork in the trail.

“Do they know I’m here this year?”

He nods again.

“And…”

“They’re dying to meet you.” He coughs and starts running a little faster.

I ignore the small lump in my throat. The desire for more family. “Are they Christians, too? Christian like you, I mean.”

Roland laughs. “That. That right there is why I’m up there on TV every Sunday. This Christian franchise nonsense has to end sometime. The Message is watered down in branding and rules…” He shakes his head and wipes sweat from his forehead. “But they’re kind of like me, yeah. Though they think I’m liberal.”

“Like half of CU,” I remark.

“Yeah?” He looks pleased with himself. “What are the kids saying these days?” he asks in a mock-elderly voice.

I shrug and try to even out my breathing. It’s been months since I’ve gotten any decent exercise. “Oh, you know, you’re all controversial and stuff.”

“And stuff… Well, I guess that’s something. I’d rather they keep talking in indecision than to stop talking all together. Why did you ask about my parents?”

“I just want to know where I come from,” I admit.

This stops Roland in his tracks. When I back up, he grips my shoulders. “You come from God, Kennedy.”

I roll my eyes so hard they hurt.

“No,” Roland preempts my retort. “Listen to me. Not just this situation, but life will throw you all kinds of curveballs. You’ll have lots of corners you’ll turn around and find yourself questioning your motives, your decisions, everything…” He puts his head down for a moment and catches his breath. “The one thing you can always hold on to is that He is your true father.” Roland points to the sky for effect.

“I know,” I whisper.

“Do you?” His eyes bore into mine, and I’m once again feeling naked.

“No,” I admit, starting to run again because I can no longer stand the intensity of standing still. “God’s just someone I pray to. Someone who can help me, but who rarely does.”

Roland starts to slow his pace, falling behind me slightly. “What? Wait a minute.”

“No!” I run faster as tears well up. “The omniscient, omnipotent creator of the universe is my father? What father would let their child grow up thinking her birth father didn’t want her? What father would steal my grandmother away in a car accident last year?” Thinking of my mom’s mom stops me, and I bend forward to place my hands on my knees. “What father,” I continue, “lets me come to this school? Lets me play with fire by wanting to get close to you in the middle of kids who are exactly nothing like me?”