RECKLESS — Bad Boy Criminal Romance (22 page)

With the help of my girlfriend, my sister Ariel began babysitting.  Through her parents and her church and her school, Cassie knew families who needed babysitters.  They all knew Cassie and Cassie vouched for Ariel.  Cassie quit her job at the mall and began babysitting as well.  They both worked at least a couple times per week. 

On her first job, a kid vomited on Ariel.  She returned home with large stain down the front of her shirt.  I burst out laughing.  She stomped by me and said, “Just shut the fuck up.”  After she changed, she sat with me on the couch and said, “I don’t think I can do this.  I don’t like kids.  They have too much energy.  Plus they’re loud and messy and not that smart.  What’s there to like?”

I convinced her to try again.

“I’ll try, but I don’t know if I can handle it,” she told me.  “If the next kid is too out of control, I’m going to give him a glass of Nyquil with his dinner.”

Despite her lack of maternal instinct, the next several jobs went much more smoothly for Ariel.  She proved to be a capable babysitter and even bonded with some of the kids. 

“I realized I have something in common with them,” she said.  “Their main concern is having fun.  Other than that, they don’t give a fuck.  I can understand that attitude.”

Parents appreciated her work and kids adored Ariel.  Word of mouth spread and more families contacted her.  Soon her schedule was booked.  Certain weeks she worked four or even five nights.

Inspired by Ariel, my girlfriend Cassie worked more herself, which often kept us from seeing each other.  In her free time, she usually opted to go shopping with my sister.  One night she called me and said, “Let’s get together soon.  I haven’t seen you any lately.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, I know it’s my fault,” she said.  “We need to talk more.  We don’t tell each other enough.”

“Okay.”

“You know, you always come over to my house and I still have never seen yours.  Why don’t I come over sometime?”

“My house isn’t that nice.  And the neighborhood isn’t that great either.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“It’s rundown.  Dangerous sometimes too.”

“Is it like something you’d see in a hip hop video?”

“I don’t know,” I said, confused.  “I guess maybe.”

“That sounds exciting.  I want to see it.”

“I’m not sure what you’re expecting exactly.”

“I just want to see what it’s like.  And even if it is dangerous, you’ll protect me, right?”

              “Yeah.  I’m not afraid of you getting hurt.  I’m just trying to tell you it’s nothing special.”

              “I’m sure it’s cool.  Do people actually carry guns and stuff like that?”

“There’s a bunch of stuff going on right now,” Britney says as she shows me around Pinnacle Christian on a Monday evening.  “We have Bible study, support groups, and fun groups.”

The actual church is only one part of an entire complex owned by Pinnacle Christian.  Britney leads me to a gymnasium.  Inside are two side-by-side basketball courts.  One side has a volleyball net set up at half-court and a game is in progress.  “That’s the co-ed volleyball league for anyone eighteen to twenty-nine years old,” she tells me.  “There are about eight teams and they play an entire season in the fall and hold a championship tournament in December.”

On the other court a basketball game is in progress.  “This league is for men thirty to forty-five.  They have a league for men your age, too, though.”

Next we go to the Christian Studies Center.  A couple of women operate the front desk in the lobby.  Britney stops a minute to say hello and introduce me.  I look behind the desk and notice they have several surveillance tapes monitoring the church along with the rest of the premises.

Britney and I enter a hallway with about five classrooms.  Lights are on in two of the rooms and each is filled with people.  We step inside the first, a bible study class.  A mix of men and women, ages ranging from mid-twenties to mid-fifties sit at school desks.  The associate pastor stands at a chalkboard at the front of the room.  He is a man with a big, plastered-on smile, thinning brown hair, wearing a grey sweater and dark slacks.  “Let’s read from Judges, Chapter Eleven,” he says.

A woman with curly blond hair, wearing a green pleated dress with a black belt, appearing to be in her early thirties, reads aloud.  “Jephthah made a vow to the Lord.  He said, ‘If you give me victory over the Ammonites, I will give to the Lord whatever comes out of my house to meet me when I return in triumph.  I will sacrifice it as a burnt offering.’

“So Jephthah led his army against the Ammonites, and the Lord gave him victory.  When Jephthah returned home to Mizpah, his daughter came out to meet him, playing on a tambourine and dancing for joy. She was his one and only child; he had no other sons or daughters.  When he saw her, he tore his clothes in anguish. ‘Oh, my daughter!’ he cried out. ‘You have completely destroyed me!  You’ve brought disaster on me!  For I have made a vow to the Lord, and I cannot take it back.’

“And she said, ‘Father, if you have made a vow to the Lord, you must do to me what you have vowed, for the Lord has given you a great victory over your enemies, the Ammonites.  But first let me do this one thing: Let me go up and roam in the hills and weep with my friends for two months, because I will die a virgin.’

“‘You may go,’ Jephthah said. And he sent her away for two months. She and her friends went into the hills and wept because she would never have children.  When she returned home, her father kept the vow he had made.”

“Very good,” the associate pastor says.  “In the Bible, we see people make pacts with God and these covenants must be taken very seriously.  At times in the Bible, people’s children are at stake.  Sometimes they are spared and other times God raises them up into his loving arms.  Of course, Jephthah is heartbroken that he must sacrifice his daughter to the Lord, as I’m sure we all would be if put in that position.

“But this story illustrates an important point.  Above our country and even above our family, we owe our ultimate allegiance to God and we must follow His will in all things.  Though, at first glance, this story may seem brutal, it is actually a wonderful depiction of true devotion to God.  Jephthah made a promise to the Lord and followed through on that promise.  His daughter did not impede him.  In reward, without a doubt, she went to heaven to live in eternal bliss with her Lord and Savior.  And so, the story has a happy ending.  And it shows how we all must be totally devoted to Christ and fulfill our promises to Him no matter how hard the circumstances.”

After listening for a few minutes Britney and I walk back into the hallway.

“How about the other room?” I ask.

“It’s a support group,” she tells me.  We look in through the door window.  “This one is for pornography addiction.”  The group, formed into a semicircle, sits in chairs and listens to a sixty-five year-old man, the leader of the class, standing at the front of the classroom, wearing a suit and tie.  Britney and I step in the back of the room and listen for a moment.

“Don’t stare off rooftops,” the old man at the front at the room says.  “How many of you know the story of David and Bathsheba?  While walking on his rooftop, David spotted Bathsheba nude, taking a bath.  So David sent her husband Uriah into battle, knowing he’d be killed, so that he could marry and sleep with her.  Bathsheba bore David a son from this scheme, but God punished David by striking down his son with a severe illness that killed him only a few days after his birth.  So what point should we take from this story?  If David wouldn’t have been staring off his rooftop, none of this ever would have happened.  Stopping himself from the initial impulse would have prevented all the death and pain that followed thereafter.”

I look at his audience.  All of them listen attentively.  Some take notes.

“When you have the impulse to turn on the computer to look for pornography, just don’t do it!” he exclaims.  “It’s simply not worth it.  Porn can cost you your family, your career, and your relationships.  Sex within marriage is about a man and a woman interacting physically, mentally, and spiritually.  Porn is the opposite of that; it is totally self-centered and focused only on physical release.  Human beings with hearts, minds and souls are objectified, reduced to the mere size and shape of their body parts.  If you remember, objectification was a tool used by the Nazis against the Jews.”

The old man paces at the front of the room, quiet for a moment, thinking.

There are nearly thirty people in the group.  Most of them appear to be in their thirties or forties.  Some look to be in their fifties.  Their moods range from studiously attentive to tearful, overwhelmed by guilt.

“It was naïve on my part, but a long time ago I thought people who looked at pornography were all losers who couldn’t get a date.  However, once I took it upon myself to help people afflicted by porn addiction, I was stunned to find that addicts are often well-educated, self-aware, and involved in serious relationships.  In one of the first support groups I ever ran, one of the addicts was a forty year old man I’d never seen before.  He wasn’t a parishioner of our church.  During one session, he confessed to the group he was actually driving an hour from where he lived to attend each of our meetings.  The reason for doing so was that he was a doctor and he didn’t want the people in his town to know about his problem.

“Can you believe that?  Even doctors are susceptible to the lure of pornography!  Point being, all of you here are not alone in your struggle.  Even the most respected people in our communities, such as that doctor, can be addicts.  When his wife discovered his craving for porn, she was totally shocked and revolted.  He attempted to make amends by throwing away all the pornographic materials he owned and not going on the internet.  But the damage had been done and his wife’s heart had been broken.  When he came to me, they had not had sex in several months.  Luckily, he made the right choice by coming to us for help.  Slowly, under our guidance, he beat his addiction, reconnected with his wife, and once again began to enjoy a healthy and sacred sexual relationship with her.  He stopped looking off rooftops and all of you here today can do the same.”

Britney and I walk back toward the lobby.  “Have you seen anything so far that you might want to get involved in?” she asks me.

“I like what you’ve shown me so far.  I’d like to do something productive for the church but I feel like I still have a lot to learn about the different teachings and about the bible and everything.  How about some type of fundraising?  I know I could do that.”

“Every so often we do door-to-door fundraising.  And during Sunday services, we need people to walk down the pews and take up donations.  I’ll look into it and see what I can find for you.”

Chapter Fourteen

At home Ariel and I never had a close relationship with our mother.  Most of our lives she worked long hours at multiple jobs, preventing us from seeing her.  When we did speak, usually at dinner, our mother preferred small talk instead of delving into the details of our lives.  She knew Ariel babysat.  She knew I had a girlfriend.  But beyond the surface level, she knew little about us and we knew little about her.

              Over the years, Ariel asked many times about our father but she always refused to discuss him.  We asked about her parents – our grandparents – but she didn’t divulge much information.  One was dead and the other she didn’t talk to and that was all she revealed.  She didn’t like speaking about her childhood.

              Rarely was she angry.  Ariel and I had a list of chores around the house.  Only if we failed to complete them did our mother get upset.  On occasion she told us she loved us.  She was unemotional, never too happy or sad.  Mostly she seemed tired but content.

              She never asked us personal questions and she expected the same in return.  On Friday or Saturday nights she often went out.  When Ariel asked what she did, our mother said she went out with friends.  We never met these friends but assumed they were from her work.

              “Do you think Mom ever dates anyone?” Ariel asked me.

              “If she did, I’m not sure she would tell us.”

              “Why is she like that?” Ariel asked.  “Aren’t families supposed to talk and share and stuff like that?  Isn’t that normal?”

              “I’m not sure we’re normal.”

              In the mailbox one day was an envelope addressed to our mother.  It was handwritten.

              “Do you know who this is?” Ariel held it so I could read the name and address of the sender.

              “No.”  I sat on the living room couch.

              Ariel dropped all of that day’s mail on the living room floor except for the handwritten envelope.  She inspected it closely and asked, “Should we open it?”

              “You know Mom will be pissed off at you,” I said.  “Just leave it alone.”

              “Yeah, I guess that’s the right thing to do.”  Ariel stood, thinking, then ripped the envelope open and unfolded the enclosed letter.  “Having dinner with you was wonderful,” she read from the letter.  “Call me so we can see each other again.”

              “I wish I didn’t hear that.”

              “She must’ve gone out with him,” Ariel said.  “Right?”