Grace

by Morris Gleitzman

  It made me feel sick.

  ‘Please,’ I said to God, ‘don’t rapture my dad.’

  Dad and me had talked about rapture. Whether it ever really happened. Whether God ever snatched a faithful person to him in a blink so they just disappeared from earth. We didn’t think so. Some people in our church believed it, but we’d never heard of it happening. Grandpop reckoned it would only happen after the end of the world. Anyway, one thing Dad was definitely sure of. God wouldn’t break up families.

  I agreed with him.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said to God. ‘Just panicking.’

  I tried to picture God nodding in an understanding way. Sometimes just seeing him in my imagination was enough to calm me down.

  I felt a bit calmer now, but I still wanted to take all the things out of the boxes and put them back where they belonged.

  Before I could, I suddenly heard something. Footsteps clanging behind me.

  I turned round.

  It was my cousins, Cain and Turk, hurrying up the stairs.

  ‘Hello, Grace,’ said Cain, with a fake friendly smile. ‘Our dad thought we’d find you here.’

  ‘He told us to give you a lift home,’ said Turk. ‘He said we can buy you a slushy on the way.’

  I thought about running. But I knew I’d never be able to push past them on the narrow stairs. For Cain and Turk both did body-building and they were so big and muscly they almost didn’t fit into their carpet warehouse uniforms.

  ‘Where’s my dad?’ I said.

  I was pretty sure they must know. Their dad was Uncle Vern who owned the home-lighting warehouse as well as the carpet warehouse next door.

  Cain and Turk gave each other a look, but didn’t say anything.

  They carried on not saying anything as they led me down the stairs and towards the exit. I could see hesitation was upon them. They wouldn’t even look at me.

  ‘Where’s my dad?’ I asked again, several times.

  Cain and Turk kept glancing at each other nervously.

  It was almost like they were scared to answer me.

  I didn’t get it.

  Why would two big tough twenty-three year-olds be scared to answer a kid?

  Finally Cain spoke.

  ‘That’s real rough about your father being fired,’ he said.

  I stared at him.

  Fired?

  ‘We only heard about it this morning,’ said Turk. ‘Our dad sent us over here earlier to collect your dad’s company car and mobile.’

  I felt dizzy with confusion.

  And a bit of relief.

  At least Dad wasn’t injured. Fired wasn’t so bad. People said sorry and got their old jobs back all the time. Except why had Dad been fired? He was a brilliant home lighting warehouse manager. Uncle Vern was always saying that.

  ‘What flavour slushy do you like?’ said Cain.

  ‘Where’s my dad now?’ I said.

  Cain and Turk looked away again. I could see they didn’t want to tell me.

  ‘Where?’ I yelled.

  The staff weren’t ignoring me now. They were ignoring the customers and staring at me.

  I didn’t care.

  ‘Tell me,’ I yelled again.

  ‘They took him away,’ said Turk.

  ‘Took him away?’ I said. ‘Who?’

  Cain and Turk looked at each other. They didn’t want to say. I could see they’d rather be somewhere else. In the gym probably.

  ‘Who?’ I yelled.

  A group of customers moved away from us.

  ‘The security company we use,’ muttered Cain.

  I stared at him.

  ‘It’s what happens when somebody gets expelled,’ mumbled Turk.

  This was crazy. It didn’t make sense.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ I said to them. ‘Why would my dad get fired and taken away by a security company just because I’ve been expelled?’

  Cain and Turk looked confused.

  ‘You haven’t been expelled,’ said Cain. ‘Your dad has.’

  They started marching me towards the exit more quickly. I let them do it because now mega-confusion was upon me.

  Dad couldn’t be expelled. He left school years ago.

  Then I realised what Cain meant and talk about the end of the world, I felt like I’d been whacked by a thunderbolt of woe.

  Panic blocked my throat and I needed God’s help to breathe. I completely lost the strength in my legs. I would have collapsed on the floor if Cain and Turk hadn’t been holding my arms.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the fierce burning lights and my tears.

  What Cain meant was that Dad had been expelled from the church and from the sight of God.

  And in our church, when somebody got expelled, their family never saw them again.

  Chapter 8

  ‘Good slushy?’ said Turk as Cain steered the car into my street.

  I didn’t know.

  I didn’t care.

  I sat in the back of the big four-wheel drive, holding the drink container they’d put into my hands. It was cold. My hands were numb.

  So was the rest of me.

  I just wanted to get home and see Mum and Grandpop. And find a way of getting Dad back.

  I had faith we could do it. I knew Dad wouldn’t have been thrown out of the church just for having too many arguments. He’d been doing that for years. My project must have had something to do with it. And me talking to outsiders. And me interrupting school prayers. And me leaving the Bible solitary room without permission.

  In our church, fathers were meant to be strict and make their families be meek and obedient. If families did sins, fathers got the blame.

  So it was up to me.

  I knew what I had to do.

  Explain to the church elders it was my fault. Beg them to forgive me. Promise to be meek and obedient for the rest of my life.

  I had faith I could do that too.

  As soon as Cain parked in our driveway, I left the slushy on the back seat and got out.

  Cain and Turk got out as well.

  ‘Our dad said we have to take you to Grandpop,’ said Turk.

  Grandpop’s car was also parked in our driveway. This was good. Grandpop was a church elder. He sat in the front row in church. He knew the first names of all the other elders. He must be able to do something.

  Organise an afternoon tea, for example, where I could say sorry and promise never to do anything bad ever again, including in school projects.

  Perhaps he could organise it today.

  ‘Come on,’ I said to Cain and Turk. ‘Round the back.’

  I knew that everyone would probably be in the kitchen. In our church the women mostly stayed at home in the kitchen in case somebody got hungry. And the men spent a lot of time there eating.

  Unless they were Dad, who spent a lot of time there cooking.

  I took a deep breath. Until Dad was back, I had to be careful. If I thought about him too much I’d get upset. And I wouldn’t be able to help Mum and Grandpop get him back if I was blubbing.

  As we came through the carport, I heard my brothers playing in the backyard. It was Mark and Luke’s favourite place. First thing in the morning till bedtime prayers they were out there, smiting unbelievers and Philistines with their plastic swords.

  They spotted us and stopped playing. They dropped their swords and came over. I beheld frowns on their sweaty little foreheads.

  ‘God made Mummy cry,’ said Mark.

  ‘She wasn’t naughty,’ said Luke. ‘Why did God?’

  I gave them both a hug and reminded them that God is kind and doesn’t make people cry even when they have been naughty.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said to them. ‘Play nicely and I’ll cheer Mum up.’

  Mark and Luke looked at me doubtfully.

  I could see what they were thinking. You’re a girl. You haven’t even got a sword. What can you do?

  That was one problem with the Bible. The action heroes were
all men. Dad was always saying that.

  ‘Cain and Turk will help me cheer Mum up,’ I said. ‘Won’t you Cain and Turk?’

  Cain and Turk looked doubtful, but nodded. Under their big muscles and tightly-stretched carpet warehouse uniforms my cousins had good hearts.

  The twins’ faces brightened. They picked up their weapons.

  ‘I’m the good Samaritan,’ yelled Mark.

  ‘I’m the bad Samaritan,’ yelled Luke, swinging his sword at Mark’s head.

  I turned and went into the house.

  As I came into the kitchen, Nannie looked up from the stove and when she saw me her eyes went soft with concern, just like Mum’s often did.

  She came over and grabbed my hands.

  ‘Oh Grace,’ she said tearfully. ‘You poor child.’

  For a moment tears were almost upon me too. Nannie was the most warm-hearted and loving grandmother in the world, but she did cry heaps. I didn’t blame her. Grandpop could be pretty strict.

  ‘Where’s Mum?’ I asked.

  ‘She’s resting in her room, love,’ said Nannie. ‘She needs some time on her own.’

  Part of me wanted to go straight to Mum and comfort her. But that wouldn’t get Dad back.

  Grandpop was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for his meal.

  I took a deep breath.

  ‘Grandpop,’ I said. ‘There’s been a terrible mistake. Dad’s been expelled and taken away by a security company. The church elders must think Dad doesn’t love God and he does.’

  I looked at Grandpop pleadingly.

  Grandpop didn’t say anything. He just stared at the table.

  ‘I know it’s mostly my fault,’ I said. ‘And I want to say sorry. About my project and all the other things. To you and Mr Gosper and Mr Reece and Uncle Vern and the other church elders. So Dad can come home.’

  Grandpop stood up.

  He touched the sides of my face gently with his big hands. Hope was within me. He’d never done that before. Then he gripped my shoulders and closed his eyes. I’d never seen him look so sad.

  ‘O Lord,’ he said. ‘Help this child accept Your will. Help her understand why this family is being punished. Help her bear the pain that we all must bear.’

  I didn’t understand.

  Why was Grandpop saying this?

  Tears were stinging my eyes. I wished Dad was there with his arms round me. One of his corny jokes would have been bountiful right then.

  Grandpop opened his eyes and looked at me.

  ‘We begged your father to obey the laws of our church,’ he said sadly. ‘To be obedient. To stop questioning everything. But he wouldn’t. So we had to send him away to save you from his dark and sinful heart.’

  I stared at Grandpop.

  Shock was upon me.

  I opened my mouth to tell him that Dad had a warm and faithful and loving heart. Before I could speak Grandpop put his fingers over my mouth.

  ‘Hush, innocent child,’ he said. ‘When you’re older you’ll understand.’

  I pushed his hand off my mouth.

  ‘No I won’t,’ I said. ‘Because it’s not fair. Dad hasn’t got a dark and sinful heart, he’s just got a lively mind. Which God gave him.’

  The kitchen went very quiet except for something bubbling on the stove.

  Grandpop took his other hand off my shoulder. Cain and Turk took a step back. I could see they were scared that Grandpop would boil over, which he did sometimes.

  I didn’t care.

  Nannie hurried over with a bowl of soup for Grandpop. He ignored it. Nannie gave me a damp hug.

  ‘The security people didn’t hurt your dad,’ she said. ‘They took him to a hotel.’

  ‘A four-star one,’ said Cain. ‘All expenses paid for the night.’

  ‘Room service,’ said Turk. ‘In-house movies.’

  Cain and Turk were sounding like they wouldn’t mind being expelled from church themselves. Until Grandpop gave them a look.

  Nannie went back to the stove.

  Grandpop turned to me. His face was still sad, but very stern.

  ‘I know this is hard for you, Grace,’ he said. ‘You’re a child and you must do something no child should ever have to do. You must forget you had a father.’

  I stared at him in stunned horror.

  ‘God is your Father now,’ said Grandpop. ‘God will help you to be strong.’

  The others all nodded. Nannie sniffed tearfully.

  I stared at them, speechless.

  I wanted to ask Grandpop how he would like it if Mum, who was his daughter, forgot she had a father. But I didn’t because I realised what was happening. Poor Grandpop and Nannie and the others were scared to stand up for Dad in case the church elders thought they were being disobedient and expelled them too.

  ‘Would you like some broccolli and cheese soup?’ said Nannie.

  I didn’t blame them. The elders could be very strict. Even to other elders. But luckily Dad had me and Mum to stand up for him.

  I heard faint wailing. For a sec I thought it was Mum. But it was just Mark and Luke smiting each other in the backyard.

  I took some deep breaths. At least Grandpop was right about one thing. I did feel God helping me to be strong.

  ‘Dad’ll be back,’ I said to them. ‘He won’t stay in some dumb hotel room being cast out. He’ll come back and sort all this out and Mum will help him.’

  Grandpop gave a big sigh.

  ‘You poor child,’ he said. ‘Try to understand. He’s gone. You won’t see him again.’

  My head felt like it was a bit of Jericho exploding.

  Nannie, who was still crying, came over and grabbed my hands again.

  ‘God gives,’ she sobbed, ‘but He also takes away.’

  ‘When sins have been committed, He takes away,’ said Grandpop.

  I didn’t believe them.

  ‘God wouldn’t take my dad away,’ I said.

  I twisted and wriggled and finally broke free from Nannie. She said something in a pleading voice. Grandpop spoke very sternly at me. I ignored them both.

  I ran out of the kitchen to find Mum.

  Chapter 9

  Mum was in her room, sitting on the edge of the bed, her head bowed.

  She was holding her Bible. Her tiny Bible covered in soft blue leather that Dad gave her when they got married.

  I stopped in the doorway.

  I didn’t want to interrupt Mum’s prayers. But she looked up and saw me. Her sad face went surprised.

  ‘You’re home from school early,’ she said.

  I could tell from her voice she wasn’t sure if I knew about Dad.

  I told her everything. The minibus crash. The Go Saints kid. How I made Mr Reece’s nose go pink in assembly. How I left the Bible solitary room without permission. How I thought I was expelled.

  How I discovered it was actually Dad who was expelled instead.

  ‘It’s my fault,’ I said. ‘I know Dad gets into trouble in church quite a bit, but I’m the straw that broke the elders’ backs.’

  ‘Oh, love,’ said Mum.

  She put her arms round me and hugged me tight.

  ‘I want to repent,’ I said. ‘I want to show them I can be meek and obedient. But Grandpop won’t listen or organise an afternoon tea or anything.’

  ‘Grace,’ said Mum. ‘I want you to listen to me. None of this is your fault.’

  I looked at her.

  How could it not be my fault?

  ‘I mean it,’ said Mum. ‘It’s not.’

  I beheld from her face that she meant it. And I knew I could trust her to tell me the truth.

  ‘Then why has Dad been expelled?’ I said.

  Mum stared down at her Bible. She sighed and I saw how wet her face was.

  ‘I begged him,’ she said quietly. ‘I begged him so many times not to get into arguments at church. Yes, the rules are too strict sometimes. Yes, the elders can be pig-headed. But the price we pay for all the wonderful things our church
gives us is that we have to keep our thoughts to ourselves.’

  Mum touched my face. I think she was checking for tears but I didn’t have any. God was still helping me be strong.

  I didn’t say anything. My mind was busier than a gang of slaves building a pyramid.

  I beheld what Mum was saying. God wanted us to think for ourselves, but that didn’t mean He wanted us to go around asking questions that upset elders. Not as often as Dad did. Not so often that the elders couldn’t stand it any more and chucked you out.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said to Mum. ‘Dad’ll realise he’s gone too far. He’ll come back and apologise and they’ll have to let him back in.’

  Mum nodded, but she didn’t say anything. I understood. There’s only so much grief and worry a person can take before they temporarily lose the power of speech. You see it in the Bible all the time.

  I put my arms round her.

  ‘Dad’ll be back,’ I said softly, and lo, I was right.

  I must have fallen asleep, because when I heard Dad’s voice it was in my dream. Then I woke up and I was in my own bed, in darkness, and Dad’s voice was coming from outside, down in the street.

  I scrambled to the window.

  Dad was standing in the circle of light from a street lamp.

  ‘I want to see my family,’ he was saying loudly. ‘This is Australia, not fourth century Egypt. Let me see my family.’

  People were blocking his way. Uncle Vern and Cain and Turk. Plus two other men who worked in the carpet warehouse.

  ‘Show me one place in the Bible,’ Dad said to them, ‘where it says a bloke can’t see his family.’

  The carpet warehouse men tried to grab Dad. He pushed them away.

  I slid the window open wider.

  ‘Dad,’ I yelled.

  He looked up and saw me.

  ‘Don’t worry, Grace,’ he said. ‘It’ll be OK.’

  While he was looking up at me, he took his eyes off the others and Turk grabbed him in a bear hug. The carpet warehouse men grabbed him too, and started pushing him down the street.

  ‘Let him go,’ I yelled.

  They ignored me.

  I tried to calm everyone down and remind them they were Christians.

  ‘Behold,’ I shouted at the men in the street. ‘For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace.’