by Rob Mclean
They were nearing her exit ramp from the freeway. It was still relatively early in the evening, especially compared to the nightclub hours he had been working. He didn’t want to say goodnight to her just yet, but it wasn’t long before they were pulling up in front of her house. The sun had set, and when he rolled the window down, the heat from the street soaked into the car. A few people sat on their front porches, enjoying the coolness of the dusk, but, judging by the hum of air-conditioner motors, most had gone inside.
Before he could think of anything to say to her, Angela had gathered up her things. “I’ll say goodnight now,” she said and presented her cheek to be kissed.
“Not going to invite me in for a coffee?”
“You just had one,” she said indicating the empty coffee cups. She then saw the smile on John’s face and she frowned. “Don’t go thinking anything would happen if I were to invite you in.”
“No, I just wanted to see your mother’s expression when she sees that I have brought you home safe and unmolested.”
“So far that is, but not if I invite you up to my room,” she said with a wicked smile.
“What? Not with your mother lurking downstairs. Besides,” he said with a wry grin, “a taste of honey is worse than none at all.”
Angela took a moment to think about what he had said and then nodded in agreement. “Very wise,” she said.
“Not me,” John said. “That’s the timeless wisdom of Aretha Franklin.”
Angela just shook her head. “Never heard of her.”
John still couldn’t tell if she was having him on again, but decided to play along with it. “How come you’ve heard of James Dean but not Aretha Franklin?”
“Dad and I would watch his movies together.”
“Okay, but come on, everyone’s heard of Aretha Franklin”
Angela just shrugged and gave him a blank look.
“That will just have to be something to look forward to later then,” he said as he took her hand and kissed it lightly. “Goodnight, Princess, see you tomorrow.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to think the better of it and shut it again. She turned and without a word got out of the car and started to go towards the house. She then stopped and came back to the car. She leaned in as he lowered the window.
“Don’t go putting me on a pedestal and go thinking I’m some sort of holy Princess,” she said crossing her arms. She sounded annoyed, then added, “‘cause I’m not. You should know that.”
“Yeah, I sorta figured that,” said John.
“But that doesn’t mean that I’m…”
“No, of course not,” John said quickly. “You’re not like other girls I’ve known.”
“I bet you’ve known a few,” she said.
“Now you’re sounding like your mother,” he said with a smile, “but yes, I’ve known enough to see that you’re different – in a good way.”
Angela seemed satisfied with that. She turned and walked up the driveway. She didn’t wave John goodbye as he drove away.
Chapter 29
Angela was lost in her thoughts as she strolled up the driveway; she wasn’t used to using the front door. She was going over the events of the evening in her mind, wondering what to do about John when her phone chirped. It was a text from Chelsea: ‘wr r u’ She didn’t feel like answering it straight away so she went in through the back door.
As soon as the screen door had shut, her mother was there. Clarice looked her up and down, presumably to check that all was in order, and then told her that she had a visitor.
Before Angela had time to wonder who it might be, Chelsea walked into the kitchen. She was dressed in a tame plain skirt with black leggings and a loose plain t-shirt. Angela noticed that she had taken all her piercings out and wore almost no make-up. She even had her hair covered in the traditional way with a scarf. “You didn’t answer my text, sista,” she said.
“How long have you been here?” Angela asked. Her curiosity gave way to suspicion. “Were you watching me from inside?”
“Yeah, I was just checking up on you,” Chelsea said without a hint of humour. Angela knew that Chelsea preferred to be seen with a more edgy look, so she must have deliberately chosen to dress down- probably to keep on mom’s good side, thought Angela, but why?
“Miss Chelsea has been here for a little while,” Clarice said. “We had a nice cup of tea and a chat.”
Angela groaned. She dreaded the thought of her mother and her friend discussing her, especially when she wasn’t there.
“Yeah, sista, we we’re just talking about you,” Chelsea said, “and Zeke,” she added.
“Zeke?” Angela asked.
“Yes, my brother Ezekiel. You know, that guy, who once upon a time, you were going out with? Gonna marry someday? Remember him?” Chelsea’s heavy sarcasm was backed up with a jabbing, accusatory finger.
Angela glared at her mother, who dismissed it with an airy wave of her hand. “I have explained to Miss Chelsea the situation. I’m sure she can appreciate your predicament.”
Chelsea ignored Clarice and spoke straight to Angela. “You can’t be serious about this ‘plan’ with Mister Glove Puppet, can you? You don’t think, for one minute that Zeke won’t be furious that you’re seeing someone else?”
Angela felt trapped between Chelsea, who was defending her brother, and her mother’s machinations to manipulate him. She knew Chelsea was right, and she felt a gnawing, nagging guilt at the thought of using John the way she was.
“Young Ezekiel has had it all his way for too long.” Clarice addressed her comment to Angela and it seemed that she was deliberately putting her back to Chelsea. “As I see it, Zeke is not your fiancée.”
“Isn’t he?” asked Angela, a little confused.
“No. He’s just a friend with extras.” Clarice put emphasis on the last word and made it sound sleazy.
“What you mean is a friend with benefits,” Chelsea said this time to Clarice, who turned away from her to face Angela again.
“If you’re giving away the milk,” Clarice said with a lofty tone as though she was preaching, “why would he want to buy the cow?”
“There’s plenty more ‘cows’ out there,” Chelsea said over Clarice’s shoulder before Angela could say anything to defuse the situation. “If this one isn’t special to him in some way, then he’ll just find another one that is.”
Clarice spun around to face Chelsea. Her mother’s nostrils flared and her shoulders rose as she took in a sharp breath. Her eyes glared with a cold anger. Angela was suddenly worried that her mother might strike Chelsea. She remembered her mother’s hand from her childhood, and she knew that she had been quick to use it. Instead, her mother just stared.
Chelsea broke the confrontation and lowered her eyes, much to Angela’s relief. She didn’t want to lose her friend by her mother banning contact with her.
“That’s how it works these days, you know,” Chelsea explained in a more conciliatory tone, acting as if the whole disagreement didn’t matter to her and that in fact she was a little bored of the whole conversation. “There are not enough good Christian men to go around, and we girls have to do what we can to get their attention somehow.”
“But surely not like that. You’ll end up pregnant or worse.” Clarice’s voice trailed off and Angela knew that her mother didn’t want to voice her fears.
“Hey, it’s not the 1950’s you know,” Chelsea began. Angela put her hand on Chelsea’s arm to quieten her. She gave her friend a subtle shake of her head to stop her from antagonizing her mother further, but Chelsea went on, “but you do have a point. Guys who have ‘friends with benefits’ don’t want to commit to a serious relationship. Why would they? They have their cake already.”
“It’s morally wrong. If you give yourself to a man and aren’t married, then you’re little more than a whore and you’ll spend Eternity in Hell.”
Clarice turned to her daughter, “Sorry dear, but it’s the truth.’
She then back to Chelsea, “and that’s why we have to make sure she ends up marrying Zeke. You have to help us get through to Zeke that he will lose Angela if he doesn’t do the right thing.”
“Angie has already asked me to do just that and I said I would, but…”
“But what?” Angela asked. “Have you already talked to him?”
“No, but his band is practicing tonight. You can come and tell him yourself.”
Angela looked to her mother, who nodded her consent.
“But what about John?” Angela asked.
“Mr Glove Puppet?” Chelsea made no effort to hide her distaste. “Forget that heathen, sister.”
Clarice nodded in agreement. “You shouldn’t go getting yourself too attached to that young man, as nice as he is. After all, he is not of the faith, and you should know that an unevenly yoked marriage will only cause you problems in the long run, especially when children come along.”
Angela felt dwarfed by the range of her mother’s foresight and planning. She was just worried about the here and now. Her mother had the names of the grandchildren all worked out.
“But isn’t it wrong to use him like I am?” Angela asked. She felt in the depths of her soul that it was wrong, but it had been her mother’s plan from the start and she had always listened to her mother’s advice.
Clarice answered with the same sure conviction that Angela remembered from her earliest memories. “God uses those who are not of His faith for his own purposes,” she said as if quoting some scripture. Angela wasn’t sure if it was actually in the Bible, but her mother had a much better memory when it came to Bible quoting.
“Really? That’s a bit mean, isn’t it?” Angela asked.
“That’s how your Mr. Glove Puppet came to look after you the other night.”
“But…”
“Goodness, child, didn’t they teach you anything at that school?”
Angela wanted to point out that she had been home-schooled most of her life. She had only gone to a ‘regular’ Christian college in her more senior years, but they were blamed for all the gaps in her knowledge, especially religious ones.
Getting no response from her daughter, Clarice continued, “Romans 8:28 says ‘We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God those whom He has called according to His plan.’ You see, God simply used him to look after you.”
Angela still didn’t feel it was the right thing to be doing, but she wasn’t going to argue with her mother now.
“And now He’s still using him to help you gain a virtuous marriage,” Clarice concluded.
“Yeah, and now he’s your glove puppet sister,” Chelsea added, putting her arm around Angela. “So, let’s go upstairs and get you ready to go out.”
Later, with help from Chelsea, Angela was ready. Dressed in her tightest skirt, with towering stilettos, her mother helped with braiding her hair and putting in the matching fascinator. She primped and fussed over her daughter, then with a reassuring hug, told her she was the most beautiful girl in the whole world and that poor Zeke didn’t stand a chance. Angela caught Chelsea smirking behind her mother and tried not to laugh herself.
They took Chelsea’s car, even though the church hall was only a mile or so away. They parked outside where Zeke was supposed to be practicing while Angela put on a little make-up and checked her phone. She felt like a lamb that was all prepped for a banquet.
“What am I doing, chasing after him like this?” Angela asked. “Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”
Chelsea had hopped over into the back seat and was doing a quick change. She took off her plain, tame long skirt and put on a tiny, shiny black studded micro-skirt with chains hanging off it. At least she still had her black leggings underneath, thought Angela. Her loose top came off to reveal a close-fitting black tank-top. She put on some heavy, stompy ex-army boots and reinserted her piercings. The only way anyone could tell she was a Christian was by the huge silver crucifix that hung on a chain around her neck. After that, she put on archaeological layers of make-up she declared herself ready.
“He’s got a lot on his mind at the moment, you know, with the Alien thing. He’s organizing some protest rally for tomorrow night and the band is playing,” Chelsea said. “We should go to it, yeah?”
Angela remembered that she had said she would go meet John’s folks tomorrow night. What was I thinking, meeting his parents? It’s not like I’m going to have to get to know them or anything. As soon as Zeke gets his head out of the clouds and proposes properly, I can forget all about John and his family. The logic of it all was unassailable, but she felt that now familiar grinding guilt about using John, despite her mother’s reassurances.
“I can’t,” she said.
“What? Your mother again? You really should let her know that you’re an adult now.”
“But I’m not,” Angela said, “at least not while I’m living at home. I have to live under their rules.”
“Then move out,” Chelsea suggested.
“What, like you have?”
“Okay, I haven’t moved out, but then my parents aren’t so Old Testament,” Chelsea said. “Plus it’s a lot cheaper.”
“I know. I probably would if it didn’t cost so much. Besides, my folks aren’t so bad.”
“So it’s not your mom that stopping you from going tomorrow night?”
“No, I told John that I would go over to his parents’ place tomorrow night.” Angela cringed as she anticipated Chelsea’s reaction.
“You have to be joking.” Chelsea gathered up her ‘nice’ clothes as she ranted. “Just how serious are you about this guy? You must kinda like him.”
“He’s nice,” Angela protested, “and he treats me like he cares, which is more than I can say for Zeke.”
“Yeah but…”
“Don’t worry. Nothing too dangerous or serious is going to happen. We have a chastity vow.”
“No way! No sex before marriage? He agreed to that?” Chelsea gushed. “That’s incredible.”
“Yeah. I thought so too.”
“There’s no way a sinner like him will keep his word. He’ll do you then dump you like a stale beer and then no one will want you.” Chelsea jabbed her finger at Angela to emphazise her point. She got out of her car with her nice clothes in a bundle under her arm before Angela could reply.
Angela got out and followed her as she went looking around the car-park.
“I’ve gotta say, Angie, that we’ve been friends for ages, but if it came down to it…” she paused, letting Angela think about it, but then she got no reply, she continued, “Zeke’s my brother, you know?”
Angela nodded. She saw where this was going. If she persisted with her plan of seeing John, then there was a good chance that Chelsea would side with Zeke and exclude her. She wondered how many in the church would do the same and if she would be left with any friends at all. In the next breath, another part of her told her that it would be totally worth it.
After a moment of searching, Chelsea stopped and declared the spot she had found to be good enough. She then dropped her nice clothes on the ground and started to arrange them carefully.
“What are you doing?” Angela asked.
“Rapture-bombing,” Chelsea answered as she continued to fiddle with the clothes on the ground.
“What on Earth does that mean?”
“It is meant to look like someone was taken up to Heaven and left their clothes behind. You know, the Rapture.” She stood back to admire her work and then added a few pieces of cheap jewellery randomly to the heap.
“That’s pretty sad, you know. Having to fake it like that,” Angela said shaking her head.
“Shut up and get in the photo,” Chelsea ordered. She pulled out her phone and took a few photos. “Okay, now look surprised. Good, now look disappointed, like you got left behind.”
“I wouldn’t get left behind,” Angela protested.
“You would if Mr. Glove Puppet gets to you,
” Chelsea teased, then seeing Angela’s reaction, “yeah, that’s good. Look embarrassed and angry, both at the same time. Hey, where are you going?”
Angela had turned and walked away towards the hall and the sounds of the band playing inside. Chelsea ran to catch up with her.
“Hey, sista,” she said as she threw an arm around Angela to slow her up. Chelsea bounced with little jumps and laughed. “I was just teasing.”
“I’m glad you find it all so funny.” Angela’s couldn’t help but smile along with her friend. She put her arm around Chelsea’s shoulder and they went into the hall together, but only Chelsea was grinning.
The hall was largely empty, except for Zeke’s band up on stage and a handful of people sitting around listening and talking.
Angela recognized most of them from the church and youth groups that she and other young Christians had been to. Most people her age from her church were already married and some were even having their second or, in a couple of cases, their third child, so they were in their own homes at this time of night. It was where she would have liked to have been with Zeke. With the kids that were hanging with the band getting younger- or was it that she felt older?- it made her disappointment all the more acute. Still, she and Chelsea chatted friendly greetings and exchanged hugs with them as they made their way to the stage.
Zeke was up on stage with the band.
Angela felt her resolve waiver, but knew that she had to front him tonight. She had to tell him that they were over. She had thought about it on the way over and decided not to tell him about John, just to say that she was unhappy with where they were going as a couple. She would tell him how tired she was of waiting for him to grow up and how used she felt. What he chose to do about it would show her just how sincere his feelings for her were.
Suddenly now, she felt the finality of what she was about to do, and she had to admit that the thought of such a big upheaval in her life scared her as well. Still, things couldn’t go on as they were. Something had to change and she knew that she was the only one that would have to make it happen. With that in mind, she headed up to the stage.
