Nu Alpha Omega

by H. Claire Taylor

  Grinning sheepishly, Kate nodded. “Yeah. I knew that.”

  The benefits of having an angel for a roommate were only just starting to reveal themselves, though. “So I could just point to someone, and you could tell me if they were an angel or not, right?”

  Kate laughed. “Yep.” Then she immediately held up a finger. “Except only in person. Photos and video don’t show it.”

  “Interesting.” She logged that knowledge for later. “Dr. Bell told me I need to find a group of friends. But I don’t really know how to do that. Football was my best guess.”

  Kate leaned over to rest her chin on the back of the chair that she straddled. “I know the feeling. After I stopped going to church, I wasn’t really sure where to meet people. I was kind of friendless until I came here.”

  “You stopped going to church?”

  Kate nodded. “It took a while for me to get old enough where I could put a finger on it, but after the incident with the tractor, something just rubbed me wrong about it. Then when I was a sophomore, I learned about patriarchy.”

  OH BOY.

  Jessica ignored her Father. “What’s patriarchy?”

  IT’S NOTHING YOU NEED WORRY ABOUT.

  “It’s when a system is run by men.”

  “Oh okay.” That didn’t seem so fantastic. Then it occurred to her. “Wait, but everything’s run by men.”

  Kate nodded slowly. “Exactly.”

  “So that’s bad?”

  “I mean, has it been good for you?”

  YOU’RE WELCOME FOR YOUR CHRIST POWERS, BY THE WAY.

  I never asked for them.

  YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO. BECAUSE I ALREADY KNEW.

  I thought you weren’t a man.

  AND I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU IT’S COMPLICATED.

  “It hasn’t worked out particularly well,” Jessica replied slowly as more instances popped up in her mind. “So you left the church because it was run by men?” She understood the impulse.

  “No, not because it was run by men, but because there wasn’t really much talk of women. Except when it came time to knock us up and produce more godly men. When I looked around the sanctuary at all the paintings and stained glass, I started to feel sorry for the Virgin Mary, constantly surrounded by such a sausage fest.”

  Jessica thought of football again. “It’s not so bad to be the only girl surrounded by guys.”

  Kate shrugged. “Maybe not. But either way, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to be a part of a church that believed my only calling in life was to birth and raise godly men, who got to do whatever they wanted in life, or godly women, who were doomed to repeat the birthing cycle so the world could have a few more men to run the place.”

  Jessica squinted through her swollen lids as her brain chewed on that notion. “That’s … really cynical.”

  Kate shrugged unapologetically.

  “But also,” Jess continued, “kind of true.” OH COME ON. “I’m trying to find an argument against it, and … yeah, I can’t think of one.”

  BUT WHAT ABOUT—

  Yes?

  I GOT NOTHING.

  “Does it bother you,” Kate asked, “that God is a male?”

  “A little bit. But he says he’s not quite a man. He says it’s complicated.”

  Kate’s mouth hung open and her head cocked to the side in what Jess did not believe was a voluntary motion. “It’s complicated?”

  Jess raised her hands in a shrug.

  “Is God trans?” Kate asked.

  IT’S EVEN MORE COMPLICATED THAN THAT.

  “He says it’s even more complicated than that.”

  Kate inhaled quickly and choked slightly. “More complicated than being transgendered?”

  Jess held back a laugh. “I guess so.”

  “Hm.” Kate pressed her lips together thoughtfully. “I guess it doesn’t matter what He really is, as long as everyone keeps thinking He’s a He.”

  Jess nodded along, but she only felt like she was grasping the bare minimum of Kate’s idea.

  “Maybe we can make a group of friends together,” Kate suggested, standing from her chair and heading to the mini fridge. She reached in a pulled out a Dr. Pepper, holding it up for Jess to see, and when Jess nodded, Kate tossed it her way before grabbing one for herself. She plopped back down into her chair. “You know how you went back to football to find your people?”

  Jessica nodded and popped open the tab.

  “Well, this is going to sound crazy, but I’ve kind of wanted to check out the Christian Student Center recently. Maybe it’s a similar impulse. To go back to what worked before.”

  “As long as you don’t have a bitter ex there, it might work out,” Jess said, grinning morosely.

  “Would you want to come with me?”

  “Huh? Where?”

  “To the Student Christian Center.”

  Jessica waited for the punchline, but it didn’t come. “You’re serious?”

  “Yeah, why not? I mean, sure, some of the people there are going to be awful, but there might be other people there for the exact same reason as us.”

  It still didn’t sound appealing. “But aren’t you supposed to go to church because of God?”

  “Yeah, I suppose so. But hardly anyone does.”

  “That just feels wrong. Using church to meet other people who don’t really want to go to church.”

  Kate sighed. “If you insist. But that’s fine, you don’t have to go. I was just bringing it up in case you were into it. I think I’m going to check it out next Wednesday.”

  Jessica nodded hesitantly. “Let me think about it.”

  “Sure thing. And if you’re not feeling it, just tell me, okay?”

  “Okay. Tell me more about this patriarchy thing, though …”

  * * *

  “So when you think about it,” Jess said through a mouthful of Thanksgiving turkey, “it really is kind of incredible how men have duped women for thousands of years into being subservient when obviously we could run the world in a much more effective, compassionate way.”

  She noticed Rex slouching across the table from her, keeping his eyes glued to his heaping plate, and added, “Nothing personal, Rex.”

  “Nope, you’re good,” he said, dipping a roll in his cranberry sauce.

  Destinee pointed her fork lazily and at her daughter. “And Kate taught you all about this?”

  Jessica nodded.

  “I knew I liked that girl.” Destinee chugged her beer. “She raises some interesting points. Especially that one about sex-shaming. I like that one. I like it a lot. Wish I’d known it when I was your age. Or maybe way before.”

  Rex, who was outnumbered two to one, nodded along.

  “So let me get this straight,” Destinee said, “feminism doesn’t mean hating men?”

  Jessica shook her head. “I mean, you can hate some men. Like Jimmy. But you don’t have to hate all men.”

  Rex cleared his throat and raised his chin slowly. “Can I—or a man, any man—be a feminist?”

  That was something Kate hadn’t mentioned, so Jess considered it. “Yeah, I don’t see why not.”

  He nodded resolutely. “Good. Then I think I’d like to be a feminist.”

  Destinee sat up straight but fidgeted slightly in her seat, her nostrils flaring as her squinty eyes homed in on her boyfriend. “Jessica, would you excuse us for a second? I would like to speak with Rex for a moment in the bedroom.”

  Jessica rolled her eyes. “God dammit.” She tried to swallow the chewed food in her mouth before her brain caught up with her gag reflex.

  “Whatever you say, Des.” Rex stood from the table. “I have no problem taking orders from a woman.”

  If Destinee thought she was being quiet or subtle when she next spoke, she was mistaken. “Oh, I got some orders for you, Rex. Just you wait.”

  As the two of them left the table, Jessica stared out over the Thanksgiving spread growing colder with each passing second. She supposed she sh
ould be thankful for feminism, but as she heard the master bedroom door slam and her mother’s voice cackling, she wondered if maybe she should have left feminism back in San Marcos.

  Jessica still wasn’t one hundred percent sure about it, but armed with her new feminism-fueled empowerment, she felt confident that she could leave the Christian Student Center whenever she wanted and that would be that.

  But as soon as the glass double doors of the building came into view, their warm, glowing lights shining like a lighthouse in the dark, early December night, Jessica’s reservations intensified. What would people think seeing her go inside? It was an entire building devoted to worshipping her half-brother, and wouldn’t the sight of Jessica worshipping her male counterpart sort of be the opposite of feminist? She was just as Christ-y as he was, so they should be equals. Would kneeling down to him set women back a hundred years? A thousand years? Two thousand plus years? That was definitely not something she wanted to be responsible for.

  “You don’t have to sing or pray if you don’t want to,” Kate said quietly as if reading Jessica’s mind.

  And when Jessica shot her a quick surprised glance, Kate smirked sheepishly and said, “You’re not that hard to read, even if I weren’t an angel.”

  “Well, you’re right.” Jessica paused underneath a tree that overhung the sidewalk leading up to the old building. “The people are obsessed with reading stuff into everything I do. I represent religion and women and Texas and whatever other category I can be shuffled into. Everything I do means something to someone, and most of the time it means something that I don’t want it to.”

  “So it sounds like you don’t have control over what other people think.”

  Jess chuckled. “Yeah, I guess not.”

  “So you might as well do what you want to do.”

  Sighing, Jessica conceded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  As she stepped through the threshold, her skin started to tingle. So it wasn’t just White Light where this happened. Did everyone’s skin tingle like this when they went to church? She figured someone else would’ve mentioned it before, if that were the case. But luckily the sensation was mild enough that she was able to remove it from the front of her mind to try to focus on her surroundings.

  If the pictures decorating the walls just inside the CSC were any indication, this was the right place to come to make friends. Everyone in the photos that covered corkboard after corkboard looked like they were having the time of their life, with their arms slung around each other’s shoulders, huge grins spread across their face.

  Shit, have I ever been that happy before? Maybe football.

  An acute jolt sprinted through her chest and she distracted herself by taking in as much as she could while following behind Kate toward the sound of voices at the end of the hall.

  “You’re going to like this group,” Kate said. “I basically did all the ground work for you, and now you just get to jump in. The Thursday night crowd was a bunch of stuck-up assholes, but this Wednesday night group is chill.”

  “Cool,” was all Jessica could say as her brain was preoccupied with the long row of glittery crosses with names written longways down them. It had always struck her as odd that the entire religion had latched onto her brother’s death instrument the way it had. And to go to the trouble of bedazzling it? Not to mention, writing someone’s name on a crucifix seemed like something a mobster would do before having his crony deliver it to the doomed owner of the name. It would make a better threat than decoration.

  Hundreds of years from now, when she was dead and gone and perhaps someone had taken up the task of starting a religion based on her life, would they also use the key component in her death as her symbol? That seemed morbid as hell. What might it be? She sure hoped she wasn’t killed by a garbage truck. Although she hoped that for more reasons than just because any religion that used a garbage truck as its symbol wasn’t one she wished to be associated with.

  Why couldn’t people have picked a symbol that was more about her brother’s life? She supposed the fish symbol worked, except Jesus had already told her he hated fishing and never could stand the smell of fish. It would be like if her symbol became, well, a fish, she supposed. She hated the smell of fish as well.

  Kate flashed her a reassuring smile as they paused outside the door to the gathering room. Already Jessica could hear voices chatting excitedly and the faint sound of strumming on a guitar.

  “Hey!” Kate said as she pushed open the door and entered the room. Excited greetings met her until Jessica stepped in after, at which point the excitement died. The room fell quiet except for the strumming, which pulled Jessica’s attention to the strummer.

  He grinned up at her, casually continuing whatever song he was working through, and then he nodded like they were old friends.

  But they couldn’t have been old friends, because Jessica didn’t recognize him at all, and she would remember a face as mysterious and warm and tanned and perfect as his.

  She pulled her eyes away to avoid making an ass of herself, and Kate began introductions around the room. Jessica waved vaguely and tried to remember the first few names. Josh she already knew, having met him in the Quad the year before and because he was the reason she’d subjected herself to an eyeful of nightmarish abortion photos on a Google image search she could never unsee. The next boy was named Josh, too, or at least she was pretty sure he was. Her mind was so stuck on the small coincidence of two Joshes that it was unable to take in anymore names after that. Callie? Kylie? What had she said her name was? Shit. This was not the way to make new friends.

  But when Kate introduced Mason, the golden god with luxurious chin-length hair, which he ran his fingers through to brush it back away from his square jaw line and allow her to stare into his green eyes, she knew she would never forget his name.

  It was incredibly disorienting, desperately wanting to make out with someone other than Chris when she was neither high nor drunk, and having it happen to her at a church group, no less.

  Smiles rose again on their respective faces as, presumably, each person realized Jessica wasn’t going to smite them all. Kate slipped her a small book, which upon opening she discovered to be full of music and lyrics.

  She could hardly think with Mason sitting opposite the circle from her, and every time she looked up, his eyes were on her.

  They started with a tune Jessica obviously didn’t recognize, and Kate was kind enough to help Jessica find it in the book, even though Kate herself already knew the words. Everyone seemed to know the words. Jessica’s eyes followed along with the words, but she stuck with her resolution of not actually singing, especially when the lyrics were such as they were.

  Jesus come into my body!

  I need you more than ever.

  I’m a sinner, been so naughty!

  I need you inside me forever.

  Jessica wasn’t sure what was the most off putting about that chorus—the brash rhyming of ever with forever, the fact that in another context the lyrics might be arousing, or the way that everyone sung them as if they were passionately aroused.

  She glanced up to see Mason with his eyes shut, strumming the tune and singing so fervently, biting the corner of his bottom lip between words, that she was now aroused. Was church supposed to be this sexy? Shit.

  These people really have a thing for Jesus.

  She wondered if songs like this about her would ever exist. If they did, she hoped they at least had more skillful rhyming.

  After a few more songs in a similar vein, and once they’d completed the closing line of “Tie Me to Your Cross,” Jessica was more than ready for the singing to stop, even if it meant having to carry on conversation with a bunch of strangers.

  There was just no way she would be able to look her half-brother in the eye in her next sex dream after hearing how all these people spiritually fetishized him. She almost wanted to deliver the bad news that he wasn’t exactly attractive and thought everyone was a meanie, but she dec
ided that now, as she was intent on making new friends, was not the time to break such unwelcome news.

  “Mmm … that feels good,” said the boy (she was pretty sure he was one of the Joshes) next to Mason. “So do we want to go around the circle and talk about this week’s persecutions and the ways we’ve overcome with the help of Jesus?”

  This seemed like the perfect time for her to pull an Irish good-bye (people usually sprinted from the room in those, right?), but before she could, the girl sitting just to the right of Jessica in the circle said, “Ease up, Josh. You’re not always being persecuted. Why don’t we talk about our favorite class or something first. Shit.”

  Jessica’s head swiveled around to look at the girl. Who was this, and how did Jess win her over? She didn’t even know people like this existed in church settings. At the time, she hadn’t thought to see if this girl was sensually singing along with the songs, but Jess suspected she wasn’t. Or maybe Jess simply hoped she wasn’t.

  “Oh, Natalie,” Mason said pleasantly, chuckling airily and shaking his head before returning his attention back to the neck of his guitar where he practiced some silent fingering.

  “What?” Natalie insisted. “I’m just saying. If I have to hear about another white male Christian feeling persecuted, I—”

  Josh held up a hand. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, Nat. I forget about your … view on things.”

  Jess turned her head away from Natalie to look at Kate. Kate was holding back a smile and subtly raised her eyebrows as if to say, “See?” And Jessica nodded minutely back as if to say, “Yeah, you were totally right. Good call on this. Also, is church supposed to make people horny?” She wasn’t sure the last bit was adequately conveyed through her eyes, though.

  “Or,” Natalie said, “what if we stop pretending that Jessica McCloud didn’t just walk into the room and we let her introduce herself properly.”

  Had she not been Jessica McCloud herself, Jess might have appreciated the sentiment of bringing up the elephant in the room. Except the fact remained that she was the elephant, so that sucked.