The Fall of Alice K.. Jim Heynen

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ turned her head to catch her father’s profile. In church, she could never tell what he was thinking. He had on his stern church look. She wasn’t sure what look her mother had on. Maybe it was her let-the-end-come look. Aldah kept chewing on her bag of pink peppermints, and some of the juice ran down her chin and onto her white blouse.

      “‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . .’” the Rev went on. “Here again, we should turn to the Hebrew,” he said. “A translation from the Hebrew might read, ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of bottomless darkness.’”

      He started pumping his arms. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of disgraceful behavior from our leaders! Yea, though I walk through the valley of falling cattle and hog prices! Yea, though I walk through the valley of self-doubt and mental turmoil. Yea, though I walk through the valley of not knowing what the millennium will bring! People of God!” he shouted. “We are all in the valley of darkness as the millennium creeps toward us like a devouring beast in the night! Are we ready?”

      With that, the starling came back into the worship service, this time by plunging into the baptismal font and bathing itself in a furious fluttering of wings and splashing of water, some of it landing on the floor and some of it splattering onto the carpet of the pulpit. The reverend stopped preaching. The starling launched itself energetically into the large open space over the congregation’s head, flying even more desperately, as if energized by its recent refueling and bath.

      Everyone, including Alice, held their breath. The Rev nodded. Whether this was his acknowledgment that some great Forces of Evil were at work in God’s House of Worship or whether it was a signal to the ushers, several men did get up to open all the doors of the sanctuary as a way of showing the starling the light it was probably looking for. The Vangs had their own response to the renegade starling: all three of them held church bulletins over their heads.

      Alice’s mother stiffened, grasped Aldah’s wrist, leaned over to whisper harshly in her ear, then stood up and tugged Aldah to follow her out of church. Alice pulled her knees back in the pew to let them get out. Alice assumed her mother was using Aldah’s stained dress as an excuse to get away from a situation that she couldn’t bear. Alice hid her alarm at her mother’s behavior, and so did her father.

      The open doors let in traffic sounds from the busy street outside, along with the distinct and ungodly smell of truck diesel fuel. The starling was still flying aimlessly through the sanctuary, bouncing through the air and against the windows. Then it flew to the front of the church and perched on the right arm of the wooden cross. Its chest was panting madly. Finally, as if in despair, it fluttered to the floor, edged itself between the long cylindrical pipes of the pipe organ that stood next to the wooden cross, and disappeared.

      The men closed the doors.

      Rev. Prunesma looked down at his notes and picked up where he had left off.

      The starling hadn’t bothered Alice as much as her mother’s behavior. God only knew what crazy ideas were bouncing around randomly in her head until she needed to go off and hide. She was a little bit too much like the starling. Her mother was mentally disturbed and Alice guessed that everybody else must know too.

      Alice glued her attention back on the Rev as he made his way to the last line of Psalm 23: “And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

      He stepped away from the lectern again.

      “We understand ‘dwell’ to mean ‘to take up residence in a place, to abide there, to be at home there.’ We think of a place that is stationary and permanent. One who dwells is the opposite of a nomad. Dwellers are the opposite of Seekers. Seekers are unsettled: they do not know where they are going from one moment to the next. They are restless. Seekers are lost in lives of bootless desperation, never satisfied with the green pastures that God offers them, always wanting more: more money, more entertainment, even more knowledge.”

      Alice sensed that the Rev was looking straight at her. He knew she was a big achiever in school, and he knew how hungry she was for success. He knew she was a Seeker! She felt cornered by his admonitions. She was one of the restless and unsatisfied ones who was outside the fold, a wayward sheep, living a life of bootless desperation. A life of futility. A life as empty as her mother’s hopeless declarations.

      The defensive shield of Alice’s critical mind left her. She felt exposed. She felt pummeled by the sermon. She was not one of God’s people as Rev. Prunesma had described them. Not only was she not at peace with the wackos sitting around her, she was not at peace with her parents. And she was not at peace in the presence of the Lord. She was not in his green pastures of contentment. I wish I were stupid, she thought. I wish I could obey every order given to me without asking any questions.

      Some farmers were leaving church without going downstairs to the community room for coffee. Were they Seekers too? Were they feeling what she was feeling? Restless outcasts, all of us? Or was it that their farms were in as much trouble as the Krayenbraaks’ and they didn’t want to hear that awful question, “How are things going?” Her father wasn’t moving toward the basement either, but he was probably concerned about Agnes and Aldah—wherever they were.

      3

      Alice walked out into the parking lot behind church to look for her family. Instead of seeing them, she saw Lydia Laats, her best friend at Midwest Christian. Beautiful Lydia. Witty Lydia. Smart Lydia—and Alice’s only academic competition. The attraction was mutual. They sought each other out, especially when they were in school. To be in each other’s company was to be free from what both of them saw as the shallowness of so many of the other students. Alone together, they could talk about what they were reading without some airhead saying, “Geez, get a life.”

      “Hey!” said Alice.

      “Hey!” said Lydia.

      They flung their arms around each other, Alice’s arms around Lydia’s shoulders and Lydia’s around Alice’s waist; then Lydia put her hands on Alice’s arms and held her away from herself. “Look at you, look at you,” said Lydia. “You look fabulous in that blouse and skirt. Blue is your color, girl. And your hair. I love it down like that.”

      “Thank you,” said Alice, “but look at you!”

      Lydia was about six inches shorter than Alice, but Alice always thought she was better proportioned with her larger breasts and more prominent hips—and she had a sophisticated European look about her, which should have been no surprise because her parents were born in Holland and lived in Canada before moving to Dutch Center when Lydia was a little girl. She was wearing a dark dress that had long triangles of bright colors shooting up from the hem and narrowing toward her waist. A delicate gold chain around her neck. Small teardrop gold earrings, dark eyeliner, and dark pink lipstick. Lydia didn’t get this look from studying the way other people dressed in Dutch Center.

      “You’re the one who looks fabulous,” said Alice.

      Lydia’s head turned. “Talk about looks, look at those two,” she said.

      Two young men across the parking lot were staring at them. Strangers: no doubt early-arrival new students at Redemption College. Alice tried to read their thoughts, wondering if they were staring at her or Lydia, or both of them.

      Alice had liked what she saw when she examined herself in the mirror before leaving the farm for church, and now it was more than a slight pleasure to be stared at by living creatures besides hungry steers or a resentful mother.

      The two young men saw СКАЧАТЬ