Jesus Freaks: Sins of the Father

Jesus was a liberal.

“Before you get on your high horse, my lovely daughter,” she says in a soft, mocking voice. “I’d like to direct your attention that way.” She points her finger three cars over.

It’s a child. Not a choice.

Real men love Jesus.

I sigh and get in the car without looking at Mom or Dan, who I can hear snickering. The battle of the bumper stickers today ends in a draw.

“Want to show us this coffee shop of yours?” Dan asks, backing slowly out of our parking spot.

“Yes!” I perk up. “You’ll love the manager. His name is Asher and he’s big and tattooed and all of that.” I wink and then take a deep breath. “What do you think of my friends?” I ask cautiously.

I want to mention Roland, and his speech, and the time I’ve been spending with him. But I think back to the story he shared with me of my fifth birthday and think better of it. The elephant will have to ride next to me to Word.

“I think they’re a great group of kids,” Dan says honestly. “I couldn’t have hand-picked better friends for you.”

Mom remains glaringly silent.

“Mom?” I question. I’m not afraid of her response, but I’d like her to voice it.

She shrugs, taking a deep breath at the same time. “They really do seem nice.”

“You sound resigned,” I say, leaning my head against the window.

“I’m just trying to figure out where it all goes wrong.”

“Where what goes wrong?” Dan chimes in.

“Where these kids…when do they go from those nice kids we sat with at lunch to adults who use the Bible to oppress people instead of love them?”

The car falls silent. She’s right. I can’t say I haven’t had the same thoughts. The upbeat and fervently faithful Bridgette and Eden and the kind and thoughtful Jonah and Silas. When do they all turn into adult versions of…

“Joy Martinez.” I finish my thought out loud.

“What do you mean?” Mom asks, turning around to face me.

I arch an eyebrow. “She’s not nice, Mom. She’s one of the people you warned me about. Thankfully, she’s really the only one I’ve run into, but…ugh, she’s just…not nice. At some point, either all the people in the country who are like her get into positions of power, or people like her persuade people like Eden and Jonah onto their side.” I know I sound about conspiracy-theorist, but that’s kind of what it feels like.

Mom nods. “Hmm. Interesting. Hopefully you can find out which it is so we know at what level we need to save people.”

I let out a laugh. “Save people. My life…”

“What?” Dan chuckles.

“I just find it amusing that a phrase like save people can have two completely different meanings for people in my life.” I think back to the baptism conversation with Eden and Bridgette, another thing I’ll leave off the discussion list with Mom until I have more of an opinion on the topic. I do, however, fill them in on what happened with Joy at the coffee shop the first time we were there.

Dan shrugs. “I know it’s a bit much, but she didn’t seem like she was going to hurt the people, did she?”

Mom stare at him with her mouth hanging wide open. “Daniel Sawyer…”

“I’m just saying, she thinks she’s doing the right thing just like the two of you do when you protest all the things they’re for. I’m not saying I agree with it, Wendy. I’m just saying look at the situation as a whole.”

I lean forward and poke my head between the seats. “If I may,” I say, addressing both of them. “Threatening someone with eternal damnation is kind of a dick move.”

“Nice language,” Dan mumbles.

I stick out my tongue. “Felt good.”

Mom laughs and kisses the top of my forehead. “I’m glad to see you’re still the same.”

With what eyes?

I’m far from the same person I was when I moved my things onto campus, but so far that’s just in my thinking. And even then, it’s kind of all over the place. All I know is I no longer view institutions like CU as a threat. It seems premature, I realize, since I’m not in any upper-level classes yet, but so far I haven’t been indoctrinated with the kind of hate that has kept my mother’s lobbying career running on all cylinders.

Yet.





“Kennedy!”

My parents and I walk into Word, and I’m caught off guard by the sound of my own name coming from a voice that’s out of place. Whipping around, I find my best friend from home racing toward me.

“Mollie?!” I shriek.

“Surprise!” She echoes my pitch as we crash into a tizzy of a hug.

“What? What are you doing here?” Tears fill my eyes and I take a step back, examining my best friend since fourth grade.