The weekend before the Thanksgiving holiday, Melody and her father were on the couch watching the Lions play the Atlanta Falcons. Time with her father continued to be an important part of her Sunday, but now, Melody was just as glad when church was over. In fact, she had begun to loathe it. Every week, teenage Bible class discussed different temptations, how to deal with peer pressure, and the dangers pertaining to the worst sin of all, premarital teenage sex. After class, the hour-long church service included rambling sermons which Melody hardly paid attention to. Whenever she did stop daydreaming long enough to listen to the pastor for a moment, he was, of course, lecturing on sin. She was sick of that word and had her fill of it. For weeks, the very foundation of her faith slowly eroded as she asked herself difficult questions. Now, sitting on the couch, she pondered free will.
“Humans were not originally intended to have free will, but because a talking snake tricked Eve into eating fruit from a forbidden tree, I can now make my own decisions. Why did God banish Adam and Eve from the Garden when it was He who placed the Tree of Knowledge there in the first place? It was God who provided the temptation, what did He think would happen? Why didn’t God interfere and protect Eve as she was being deceived? Why did God ask Adam what happened if He supposedly sees and knows everything? Was it God’s true intention for people to have a mind of their own, or is free will the result of Satan’s defiance? What is the point of having free will if we are only to be punished for using it?”
The more Melody considered Genesis, the more ridiculous the story of original sin became. Recently, Melody had begun to suffer stress headaches as she questioned her beliefs, and another one was developing. However, she was unable to turn her mind away from subjects that now bothered her.
“Why does God even allow Satan to exist? With all the evil in the world, where is God, and what is He doing about it? Did God finally give up and abandon us? Does He still listen to prayers? Why doesn’t He answer me? Why did God bring Becky and I together if it was going to lead to sin? It was God who designed our bodies and gave us sexual desires, so why is sex considered a sin when it’s obviously a gift? So what if I’m attracted to Becky. What difference does it really make, and why should God care?”
Sitting silently next to her father, Melody’s mind was not on the game. She was growing angrier with God as her thoughts culminated into what she believed was enlightened understanding. It seemed God had nothing better to do these days than find fault with her, and everyone else in the world. Melody reasoned God would rather be feared than loved. She now considered the Almighty to be an egomaniac, demanding perfection from imperfect beings. Humans, pathetic creatures of His own creation, doomed to fail from birth. Forcing herself not to shake, Melody’s heart took the final step, breaking all ties with God.
“I will not be like Mother. She’s pathetic. Religion has turned her into a mindless sheep. She lives in the 1940s and can’t make a simple decision without Daddy holding her hand. I refuse to waste my life like she has. For two years, I have prayed. I cried on my knees, begging God to lift this burden from me. I prayed for strength when I could not stop fantasizing. I pleaded with God to make me stop liking girls. I prayed for guidance as my feelings for Becky grew stronger. I didn’t want to be a lesbian because I knew it angered God. I lay in bed every night asking Him to change me, to make me normal. In all that time, He never answered my prayers, not once. He doesn’t care. Fine… I’m done with Him!”
The internal conflict was over. Her deepest fear, God’s final judgement, no longer mattered. She was free. Her decision was made, and for the first time since starting high school, Melody was truly happy. Douglas suspected nothing, completely unaware that Melody had just gone through a radical, spiritual transformation.
The phone rang, but Melody hardly noticed. Her mother answered, and withing moments, her voice sounded worried. Melody could not catch what she was saying because of the television, but the person on the other end of the line had her complete attention. Her mother spoke for another two minutes before appearing in the living room doorway.
“Douglas, would you come out here please?”
As her father got up to follow his wife into the kitchen, Melody’s interest waned. She figured her mother, indecisive as usual, needed help with yet another simple dilemma. Melody heard her father speak into the phone but could not hear what he was saying. Then, her mother took the phone back and talked to both her husband and the person on the other end simultaneously. It was not until she heard her own name that Melody’s curiosity returned. The TV remote was on the opposite arm of the couch, where her father sat, too far out of her reach without getting up. Instead, she turned her head in an attempt to hear better. Melody then covered the ear facing the television as she concentrated on both her parents’ concerned voices. She heard enough to know something was going on with her mother’s side of the family.
“Well... about Melody?” her mother asked.
“Melody... fine. It’s just... night,” father answered.
“But we never....”
“...Kalamazoo.... I’ll...the morning.”
“Hold on.”
“Thelma... back... back... a ride back.”
“She’ll... in school.”
“What about Charlie?”
“...doctor says.”
“...be late?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?” Barbara asked.
“Yes,” Douglas said.
Her father’s last word was louder, indicating he was walking away from the phone and returning to the living room. Melody faced the TV again before he came into view. Douglas walked past Melody and sat back down on his side of the couch.
“Did I miss anything?” he asked.
“Third and long play got broken up. Lions punted,” Melody answered. “Is there something wrong?
“No. No, Honey,” her father assured her. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
Melody remained silent.
Later that night, as the family ate Sunday dinner, the table was unusually quiet with no conversation. Melody assumed if she was not present, her parents would be much livelier and have a great deal to say to each other. It was her mother who finally broke the silence.
“Melody, your father and I have an important favor to ask you,” her mother began.
“Yes, Mama.”
“I have to go to Kalamazoo to see my Aunt Thelma. I will be leaving with your father very early in the morning. Do you work after school tomorrow?”
“No, Mama. I don’t work until Tuesday.”
“That’s fine,” her mother answered in a nervous tone both Melody and Douglas recognized.
“Melody, in the morning, I’m going to work as usual,” her father said. “I’ll use the semi to drop your mother off in Kalamazoo so you can have the car. Tomorrow, get up and go to school as usual, then come straight home. Tuesday morning, drive to school again, then go to McDonald’s. Your mother’s cousin will drive Mom home before you get off work. Just keep an eye on the house tomorrow night.”
“I’ll leave a list of phone numbers in case you have an emergency or if you need to reach me,” Barbara added. “I’ll leave them on the refrigerator.”
“Yes, Mama,” Melody answered.
“And don’t answer the door,” her mother warned. “If anyone calls for me, just tell them I am busy upstairs and cannot come to the phone. Ask to take a message.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“If there is a fire-”
“Barbara!” her father protested. “She is sixteen years old and knows how to work a fire extinguisher.”
“Do the smoke alarms have good batteries?” Barbara asked, turning her head upward. “Where are they?”
“Barbara, the girl can handle herself.”
“She is a sixteen-year-old girl home alone by herself,” her mother argued. Melody could now see her mother was beginning to regret her decision to go on this overnight trip.
“This is a small town, and no one will know you’re gone. It will just be a normal night. Melody will come home, do her homework, make herself something to eat, watch a little TV and go to bed. Sound about right?” her father asked, turning to his daughter.
“Yes Sir,” Melody answered.
“See? It’s settled,” Douglas said, wanting to end the debate and return to his pork chops.
“She’s never been alone before!” Barbara said, making it clear she was not yet finished.
“Then it is high time she was,” Douglas answered. “She works a job and drives a car. I am sure she can handle spending the night alone in her own house.”
“Melody, make sure all the doors are locked before you go to bed and check the windows,” her mother pleaded.
“I will, Mama. Please don’t worry. You’ll be back before you know it.”
“Yes,” Douglas agreed. “You’ll be back before the dust has time to settle.”
Barbara returned to her dinner feeling defeated. She appeared calm, but her mind was racing, trying to think of any reason why she should cancel her trip and stay home. She was, afterall, an emotionally delicate woman, unable to handle much stress or conflict. Any change in her routine, no matter how slight, usually upset her. Suddenly she dropped both her utensils on the Sunday china.
“My God, Douglas. There’s a gun in the house!”
“Sweet Judas Priest woman!” Douglas said placing his fork down on the side of his plate and raising his hands. “That old shotgun hasn’t been fired or cleaned since I went rabbit hunting with my brother two years ago! There isn’t even any ammo in the house!”
“I’m just concerned,” Barbara said meekly. “This is all so sudden.”
“Mama, you can call me at ten o’clock right before I go to bed if you’d like,” Melody suggested.
“See that Barb?” Douglas said, pointing to Melody. “The girl is thinking. I trust her, so should you.”
“I’ll call at ten sharp,” Barbara said in a barely audible whisper.
***
After setting her alarm for 5AM, Melody crawled into bed overjoyed. While her parents were having their silly argument, she was making plans of her own. Lying in bed, Melody still believed the situation too good to be true. At any moment, she expected her mother to burst into her room, announce that she had changed her mind, and tuck her Raggedy-Ann doll in next to her. Melody heard both sets of footsteps come up the stairs, but instead of coming into her room, her parents proceeded to their own bedroom. Melody rolled over and tried to sleep despite her excitement. For the first time in her life, she hoped she would not see her mother in the morning.
It was still dark when the alarm woke her. Remembering the events from last night, Melody quickly sprang from her bed, raced to the door, and flew downstairs. Mother was not in the kitchen, nor was she in the living room. She ran back upstairs and checked the bathroom, then her parents’ bedroom, including the closet. There was no sign of Mother. Melody went back to her room with a smile and started getting ready for school. Her beloved rocking chair held a Motley Crue T-shirt, black high heels, and a tight purple mini-skirt, an outfit sure to give her mother a heart attack if she ever saw it. Melody had kept everything hidden for weeks, waiting for a chance to wear it. She ran to the bathroom with two issues of Cosmopolitan Magazine, intending to tease her hair and wear eyeshadow for the very first time. Today, she had to look amazing.
With her look finally complete, Melody went downstairs and poured herself a glass of orange juice while the English muffins heated in the toaster. Melody looked at the refrigerator door as she took a sip from her glass and walked over to it. Her mother had left a list just as she had promised; Aunt Thelma’s home number, Uncle Charlie’s work number, her father’s dispatcher’s number, the police department, the fire department, the emergency room, and even poison control. Melody did not know whether to laugh or not and wondered if her father had. After spreading peanut butter on her muffins and wolfing them down, Melody finished the last of her juice and put the empty glass in the sink. She went out the front door, locked the deadbolt with her key, and hurried to the Aspen. Before getting into the car, she walked back to the front door to double check the lock.
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