It's My Life

by Melody Carlson

  So we picked up Zach, then Beanie, and although things seemed a little tense at first, it slowly loosened up. And in the bathroom at putt-par, Beanie told me how Zach had called her today and that they'd had a good, long talk. He'd apologized for everything and explained what had been going on with him the last few weeks. “He seems so changed,” she said. “I mean, kind of broken or humbled or something. And not necessarily in a bad way, although I wouldn't wish what he's gone through on anyone.” Then I reminded her that she'd been through quite a bit too. “Yeah,” she said kind of sadly. “It's too bad that some of us have to learn through our mistakes.”

  “Well, at least you learn,” I said, thinking of how some people (her mom, for instance) never seem to figure it out at all.

  We finally ended up at the Dairy Queen, eating these totally gross “designer” banana splits where we picked out all these weird toppings like caramel and blackberries. But we laughed a lot and felt like kids. Then Zach got kind of serious and thanked us all for caring enough about him to reach out to help. “Tonight, thanks to God and people who care, I think I'm going to make it,” he said. “But if you'd seen me just a week ago, you probably wouldn't have given me the time of day.”

  And I have to admit that Zach did look like a different guy tonight, all cleaned and shaven (not the grunger I'd talked to just days ago). And although I'd like to think that his grunged-out appearance wouldn't have put me off, to be honest, if he'd been a perfect stranger looking like that, I probably would've turned around and looked the other way. And that bothers me a lot. And I'm sure that's not what Jesus would do. So I'd like to learn to look at people differently. Not to be so judgmental about outside appearances. Do you think that's possible? Can superficiality ever be completely exterminated? Can a girl who loves cool clothes and thick, glossy fashion magazines ever learn to accept people for who they really are underneath that veneer? I think, with God, I can. And that's my goal. But do you think I can possibly accomplish it before school starts in September?

  Saturday, August 4 (friends and friends)

  I really would've liked to sleep in this morning but had promised Andrea I'd give her a ride to another car wash fund-raiser. And I'd also invited Beanie, since she now must go to Mexico (remember our deal?). Anyway, I think Andrea was a little grumped out at me because I'd put her off a couple times last week (due to all the stuff with Beanie, which I felt was pretty serious and Andrea should understand). But now I think Andrea thinks she's in competition with Beanie (you know, the old grade school girlfriend triangle stuff), but fortunately Beanie seems to be above that kind of game playing. And I was just trying to be nice to everyone. Even Josh. And by the way, I did not wear my Hawaiian print bikini today (out of respect for Josh's feelings last time). Although Andrea wore hers and naturally managed to pull in a lot of traffic, and (I couldn't help but notice) Josh's glances as well. It figures. But just the same, I'm glad I didn't wear mine.

  Just watching Andrea prance around like she was some Malibu Barbie beach babe made me realize how I probably looked, and it's not an image I wish to perpetuate. (Isn't that a great word? I think it means to keep something going.) Of course, I won't let Andrea know what I think (or at least not in those words), but if she asks I might tell her gently that I think I understand what Josh was talking about. And I still might wear mine for sunbathing in the privacy of my own backyard!

  Anyway, as things were winding down, I heard Josh telling Greg about the situation with Zach and saying that it'd sure be cool if Zach could come on the Mexico missions trip too, if there was enough room. And Greg said he'd look into it and that Zach had already earned some money toward the trip last spring. So, who knows, maybe Zach will get to come too.

  Sunday, August 5 (one week before Mexico!)

  Zach came to church and youth group with Josh today, and it was so good to see him there. Everyone just welcomed him back like nothing had ever happened, and I think Zach appreciated that. I mean, you can only tell your story about how you've blown it so many times,… Anyway, I saw him talking with Greg after youth group, then Greg gave him a big hug. It feels like Zach's back for the long haul. And that's a good feeling. Beanie has told me that she's trying to keep a distance between them, for his sake as well as hers. She says for the time being, she would rather just be a casual friend, not even a close one, and I think that's wise on her part. In fact, that's how I feel about Josh. And I think he understands.

  Greg announced that the Mexico missions group would meet every night this week to prepare for what we'll be doing one week from now. I can't wait!

  After church, Andrea and Beanie and I went to a matinee. And surprisingly, it was pretty good and clean too. Maybe Hollywood can do films for those of us who aren't into all that gratuitous sex and violence–wouldn't they be surprised to know that we're out here? Then we decided to do something a little weird. (It was Beanie's idea and was actually inspired from a scene in the movie, which was about doing random acts of kindness). And to our surprise, Andrea wanted to come along and do it with us. At first I thought it was because she didn't want to be left out, but when it was all said and done, I think she just wanted to help. Sometimes I think I'm too hard on Andrea, too judgmental and harsh (probably because she's a lot like me and sometimes people just assume girls like us are totally shallow and superficial, which we can be, of course, but not always!).

  Anyway, this is what we did. I drove over to Beanie's mom's house. We weren't sure if she'd even be home or not, but thankfully her car was gone. And Beanie (who still has a key to the door) let us in. And, oh man, that place was worse than ever, and for a minute I felt really sorry and embarrassed for Beanie. (I mean, because Andrea was there, and I'm sure Beanie felt totally humiliated by this.) But you know what Andrea said: “Hey, your mom and my dad would make a perfect couple!” Then she explained what a slob her dad was and how she and I had played maids at the cabin (the weekend that Beanie thought I was off having the time of my life!), and we all had a good laugh!

  Then we rolled up our sleeves, and like three white tornadoes, just attacked the place (taking turns to keep an eye on the driveway in case Lynn popped in). I had parked my car down the block (not that Lynn would even recognize it), and if Beanie's mom were to suddenly come home, our plan was to take off out the back door, hop over the fence, and sprint through the neighbor's yard. Anyway, we spent over three hours there, and I've never seen that little place look so good. When we finished, we were so proud that I wished we'd brought a camera along and taken before and after photos. (We might have won some contest or at least had good résumés for housecleaning services; not that I'd like to make a career of that, specially after today!) Anyway, we were just putting a note beneath a little vase of flowers that Beanie had somehow scrounged from the weed-infested flower beds (our next project perhaps?). We'd had Andrea write the note (so the handwriting wouldn't be recognized) saying God Loves You! And that's when we heard her car in the driveway. Well, you should've seen us–bolting out the back door, across the lawn, over the fence, and making a beeline to my car, and off we went. Lynn never even saw us. We were laughing so hard, I could barely drive straight. Now, talk about fun!

  After that, Andrea invited us to cool off in her pool. Now, I didn't even know she had a pool, and she acts like it's no big deal. But let me tell you, Beanie and I both thought it was a big deal, and I think she liked that. So we laid out in the late afternoon sun, taking dips, and praising each other for what we'd accomplished today.

  And all that friction of the girlfriend triangle just seemed to disappear. But you know what the best part was? I think Beanie was having the absolute time of her life. I mean it! She just sparkled like a diamond. And I think Andrea was impressed with her. I mean, before today, I think she always thought Beanie was kind of a loser chick. And I admit, Beanie did look quite a bit like a loser. But today I think Andrea could finally see what it is I so love about Beanie. And I think that made Beanie feel pretty good too. And when you've had things
as hard as she has, feeling good's not such a bad thing! Not at all!

  SEVEN

  Monday, August 6 (whazzup?)

  Today I'm at work, about to take my lunch break (which is only thirty minutes since I'm just part-time) and suddenly Aunt Steph shows up with this funny look on her face, and I'm thinking, oh no, something must be wrong! But she tells me nothing's wrong; she just wants to talk to me. And so, like a couple of regular working women, we go and have lunch (and Rita, the main receptionist, says I can take extra time since I hardly ever take my breaks anyway).

  So, we sit down to lunch at this cool little deli down the street and I ask her what's going on. And then she tells me something I really don't want to hear. “Now, you can't tell anyone this,” she begins. “But Beanie has given her Mexico scholarship to Zach–”

  ”What?” I demand. “She can't do that. That was for her–”

  “I know, honey. Tony told me all about it. He was hoping we might come up with a way to work this out. But I wanted to let you know before you heard it from someone else.”

  Well, now I'm feeling just like someone reached over and popped my pretty balloon. (Yes, another overly used metaphor, but I'm in no mood for creativity at the moment.) “But I really, really want Beanie to go,” I complain, knowing I sound just like a spoiled brat. “I mean, I worked so hard to get her to go and everything.” Whine, whine, whine.

  Steph pats my hand and smiles. “I know you did, honey, and it was so good of you. But don't you think it's awfully kind of Beanie to give up her trip for Zach? I mean, she's told me all about his recent changes and everything, but considering what he did to her before–the way he treated her–well, I just think it's really gracious and generous on her part. And I'm really proud of her.”

  Yeah, sure, I'm thinking, still not convinced this is such a good idea, but hating to sound all negative. “It's not that I don't want Zach to go,” I try I to explain. “I just really, really want Beanie to come.”

  “Well, there may be a way for them to both go.” She pauses as if deciding whether or not to tell me. “Tony asked me not to say anything just yet, but I can see how upsetting this is for you. So, if you promise not to tell…”

  I hold up my hand like a good girl scout (which I never was). “I promise.”

  “Okay. There's a slim chance they might both get to go. Tony's checking on something right now. He should know before you guys have your first meeting tonight.”

  Now I'm slightly relieved. “Oh, I sure hope so. And you know I could probably contribute some more money too. Heck, I really don't need any school clothes–”

  Now Steph is laughing. “No, I think you've given enough. Let someone else help out. You know that it really is more blessed to give than to receive. Let's allow someone else this blessing.”

  I grin at her. “You know, Steph, I think you'd make a great pastor's wife.”

  I can see her blushing, but she gives me this sort of sly look that tells me I might not be too far off the mark, then says, “You just better keep those thoughts to yourself. You know how rumors can get started at a small church like ours.”

  Now I laugh. “Get started? You better open your ears, Sister Steph, they've been circulating for some time now!”

  So anyway, we finished eating lunch, and she promised to call me as soon as she heard anything, one way or another. “And don't forget to pray,” she said as we both went our separate ways.

  Now, when I got back to work, I suddenly remembered something. Back when I first applied for this job I told Rita how I needed time off in August for this missions trip, and she had mentioned that the corporation sometimes donated to worthy causes and might even contribute to the Mexico trip. But because of my birthday present from my parents, working at fund-raisers, and my job, I'd never needed to ask. So, I decided, why not ask today? And so I told Rita the whole story, swearing her to secrecy about Beanie and Zach. And she smiled and said she'd see what she could do. Then I sent my dad a quick e-mail note, telling him about the whole thing too, hoping he might have a little clout he could use to help out. And he e-mailed right back saying he'd do whatever he could and had a meeting with one of the bigwigs in a few minutes anyway.

  Well, by the end of the day, Rita marched triumphantly over to the little desk I use to help her stick labels on envelopes and things like that, and she said, “We did it!” And I just jumped up and hugged her so tight I knocked her glasses right off her nose.

  “Oh, thank you, thank you, Rita!” I cried. “You don't know how much this will mean to everyone.”

  “Just one thing, the big boss says you have to bring back lots of photos and make a poster or some kind of display to put up in the lunchroom so everyone can see what you kids did while you were down there. Is that a problem?”

  I laughed. “Not at all. I think it's a great idea!”

  Then she looked at her watch. “Well, your day's almost over. Why don't you just take off. I'm sure you'd like to tell your friends the good news.”

  “Thanks so much, Rita! You're just like the fairy godmother!”

  She pretended to wave her wand. “Well, then off with you!”

  But instead of leaving, I went straight up to my dad's office. Of course, he'd already heard the good news, but he let me use his phone to call Pastor Tony and Steph. And they both agreed to handle everything (which I liked–it feels better to remain sort of anonymous in these things, and I think that's how God likes us to be anyway). Then I drove over to Steph's apartment where I found Beanie and Oliver watching Sesame Street together.

  “Sheesh, Bean, I think you're getting a little old for this,” I said as I flopped down on the couch with them and immediately started making fun of Big Bird (whom I used to totally adore as a child), but I was just trying to conceal my pleasure of this latest bit of good news.

  “Hey, don't knock it. It's a pretty good show, and I never got to watch it as a kid. Oliver and I've learned all kinds of things from these puppet guys.”

  I could tell she was trying to cover for feeling down, and suddenly I felt guilty for not telling her the good news right then and there, but at the same time was still a little irked that she'd almost given away (albeit unwittingly) the gift I'd given specially to her. “So, you want to grab some burgers before the missions meeting tonight?” I suggested without looking her in the eye.

  “Uh, that's right,” she said slowly, focusing her attention on Oliver's curly hair. “Uh, I almost forgot to tell you. I can't go on the trip.”

  “You can't go?” I jumped up from the couch, acting pretty upset (you know how Beanie loves drama, or used to anyway). “What do you mean you can't go? Why can't you go? I thought it was all settled and everything.”

  “Well, I just can't go, that's all. I'm sorry. But I know you'll have a great time. And Andrea will be there for you to hang with–”

  “Beanie! Andrea is not you! Now, don't you remember you promised me you'd come? We had a deal. Remember?”

  Her dark eyes got really big. “Oh, Cate, I forgot all about that. Oh, I'm so sorry.”

  To my huge relief, Steph walked in right then. And I turned toward her and, with a wink, said, “I can't believe her, Steph! Beanie's telling me she can't go on the Mexico missions trip now, and she promised me–”

  Beanie came up from behind. “Oh, I'm so sorry, Caitlin!” I could hear a sob in her voice and I turned around to see great big tears streaming down her cheeks. And let me tell you, I felt like a total crud bucket about then.

  “Hang on a minute, everyone,” called Steph as she swooped up Oliver who was watching us both with that typical toddler, wide-eyed curiosity. “Beanie,” said Steph, “I just spoke to Tony, and it's all worked out. You can go! The problem is solved. And Zach can go too.”

  Beanie just seemed to melt in relief about then, and feeling like an absolute lowlife slimeball, I threw my arms around her. “Oh, I'm so glad you're coming! I really wanted you to come.”

  She wiped her nose on her baggy sweatshirt
sleeve. “I wanted to come too. I really did.”

  “Well, you better go change then, unless you want to go to the missions meeting looking like the baby-sitter queen. And if you hurry, we'll still have time to grab a burger before it starts.”

  She dashed off and I rolled my eyes at Steph. “I can't believe what an idiot I can be sometimes,” I said quietly as I poured myself a glass of water. “I was just trying to be dramatic.”

  Steph laughed. “Well, maybe Beanie's had enough drama to last her a while.”

  I nodded. “No doubt.”

  “And good job on blessing that corporation,” she whispered as Beanie came out looking fresh and pretty in a sundress and sandals.

  “Gosh,” said Beanie as she pecked little Oliver on the cheek. “I feel just like Cinderella, getting to go to the ball after I'd given up all hope.”

  I laughed but wisely didn't mention that Rita at work had just been playing fairy godmother.

  Sunday, August 12 (for Clay!)

  After a whirlwind week of working and missions meetings and Spanish tapes and packing and repacking (we can only take one big suitcase and one small bag), we finally loaded all twenty-seven of us onto a big bus this morning (after a quick prayer meeting where half the congregation came to show their support). And now we're off! Ariba! Ariba! (which means “hurry up”). But as a consequence of this incredibly hectic week, I've missed writing in my diary, but now plan to keep careful notes (and take lots of photos) during the entire trip.

  And I do want to take a moment to note here how we've dedicated this whole trip to Clay Berringer's memory. We all feel if it hadn't been for him, we wouldn't even be going now. And while Pastor Tony was praying for us this morning, it was almost as if we could feel Clay's presence with us. And all week long, while we've been going to meetings and struggling with our Spanish, or whatever challenges, we've all started this habit of raising a victorious fist and saying “For Clay!” So I guess that's the motto for our trip–For Clay! And of course, we know it's for Jesus (we're not stupid or starting some cult or anything), but it's because of the way that Jesus used Clay's life to touch ours that we think maybe our lives can be used to touch those people in the village where we're heading.