Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father

I roll my eyes and march toward the door.

“I will say,” she continues as we trudge up the steps, “that one thing this university has done right is the single sex dorms.”

“Amen!” a bright-faced father cheers as he sidles up next to me and Mom with a box full of books.

As he passes us, Mom calls back, “Hallelujah!” and I want to curl up and die until I realize he likely thinks she meant it.

I shush her and guide us to my room in Baker Hall. Number 1120. I have no idea who will be waiting for me on the other side of the door, but I rest my hand on the doorknob. I hold my breath for a minute. Once I turn this knob that will really be it. Once you put your things in a place, that’s it.

There is no chatter coming from the other side of the door, and I thank God for the tiny grace that allows me a minute alone. I’m starting to feel anxious about this endeavor and I need some time to breathe.

Upon entering the room, I notice what I expected to see based on pictures: one bunk bed and one single bed, indicating I will have two roommates. Judging by the clothes hanging up and the bags set on two of the beds, they both seem to have arrived on campus.

The room looks rather romantic in a Victorian sort of way. The floors are hardwood. A light color—pine maybe. They match the wood on the bed. The room is small, but appears grander because a gigantic window on the far side of the room floods the space with light and a peaceful view of the ever-green campus. There is fresh paint on the walls. White, I’d call it, but I’m sure there’s a technical name for it, like “Eggshell” or “Robe White.”

I smile again at my own private joke.

“Don’t forget to close the shades at dusk,” Mom says mockingly.

Rule #10 in the handbook. It made the top ten! We wouldn’t want changing into our pajamas to become a spectator sport, after all.

“I guess we can set my stuff over here.” I gesture to the bottom bunk, which has been left unclaimed.

Mom and I make two more trips to the car. She helps me unpack some and hang my clothes in the wardrobe. Most of my clothes still have tags on them. Evidently, I didn’t own enough appropriate clothing to carry me through a year at Carter. There’s certainly a lot more fabric than I’m used to. As I stare at my new closet with new clothes, I suck in my bottom lip, running my tongue along the thin metal band.

“Shit!” I whisper yell, startling my mom as I unhook my lip ring and take it out. “Damn it, I swore!” I cry out in a more hushed tone. “Crap! I did it again!” Mom is laughing now, watching me shove my lip ring into my backpack. “How did no one notice that on our trips up and down?” I sit on the edge of the bed and catch the breath I suddenly lost. I do not need demerits before the year officially starts.

Mom sits next to me and rubs her hand up and down my back. “Maybe they thought you were someone’s heathen sister,” she coos sarcastically.

“I’m keeping it with me,” I say of the lip ring. “I’ll carry it in my backpack in case I need a reminder…of something.”

“Mmm hmm,” she replies with a big breath.

I lay my head on her shoulder and whimper-laugh. “Moooom. Ugh. Is crap a curse word?”

She laughs harder than she has since I told her I was enrolling here. “Probably.” She kisses the top of my head. “Good luck with that.”

“Maybe I’m a three-legged stool,” I half-whisper as I kiss her shoulder.

My mom cocks her head back and eyes me curiously. It takes her a moment to remember our conversation from the car about genetics and environment. “Wh—oh, Kennedy.” She pulls me to her chest and kisses the top of my head. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just…”

“No,” I pull back and eye her, “thank you. I know this is hard for you. There’s no way for me to imagine—” I start my spiel about her being a single mother for the first several years of my life.

“And there better never be,” she playfully cautions.

“Well, then you better be grateful I’m here, then, huh? No chance of accidental babies unless I become a child bride.” I smile and rise to my feet, wanting to organize my desk to keep my hands busy and my nervous thoughts from running wild.

Mom comes up behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders as she looks out the window. “How’d I get so lucky as to end up with you as my daughter?”

I shrug. “God?”

She smacks my shoulder. “Smartass.”

“Mom!” I scold as I turn to face her.

“What? I’m not a student here. No way in h—”

“Don’t! Don’t say it.”

Mom smiles as she lowers her hands. “Fine.”

She sticks out her tongue for good measure.





CHAPTER TWO


Just Say Jesus