Losing The Sun

Losing the Sun The stars, pinpricks of light in the midst of expansive darkness, twinkled above me. I looked up at them fearfully with tears in my eyes. I couldn’t believe that I had ever once doubted the existence of God. Surely this beauty could only have been created by Him. A sob escaped me, and a stranger put his arm around me. He was wearing a t-shirt with “FBC – Louisville” emblazoned on it. He began to pray out loud, lifting a hand up and praising the Lord. It was the last night of church camp and I would most likely never see this man again. The silly games and mess hall lunches were all done with for the week; this final night was the last chance to get saved and/or dedicate your life to Christ if you felt the calling to do so. “Yes Father, I hear you. Speak to me, Lord,” the man said tremulously. I squeezed my eyes shut, silently begging for the same request. I’d never heard the voice of God before, but everyone I knew at church talked about it. I desperately wanted to hear it, to be like the rest of my church family. I waited, listening, just knowing that tonight would be the night. This would be the time I would hear Him at last. The congregation sang and the melody washed over me. My tears continued to fall, yet I heard nothing. After the invitation closed, I walked back to where my youth group was gathered. I smiled up at Allen and took his hand. He pulled it away and shook his head at me as if to say, “Now isn’t the time, Fiona.” I bit my lower lip, but nodded to show that I agreed with his decision, even though I thought he was sending mixed signals. Just a week ago, he’d had his hands up my shirt, groping around all over the place like he was lost or something. I couldn’t help but shiver a little, remembering the excitement I felt as his hands touched my bare skin. ~~~

The next day, we drove all the way back to West Virginia. The camp was on the western side of Kentucky, so it took us a good seven hours before we made it home. I was bored most of the trip, since we couldn’t have mp3 players unless they had Christian music on them. I pulled out my two journals to pass the time instead. The nicer of the two, bound in leather, was my personal diary. The green spiral notebook was the journal I used to record the week’s events, and to take notes during the sermons from camp. I flipped open the spiral and leafed through the pages. Genesis ch. 4: Cain and Abel. I scowled. Though I would never tell anyone, I felt sorry for Cain. I thought he had tried his best, and it was no wonder he got upset when God didn’t like his offering. Like a good Christian, though, I had written about needing to do what was right according to God, rather than our own intentions. I turned a few more pages. Luke ch. 15: Prodigal Son. Another one I hated in private. The eldest son always did what was right, and his reckless younger brother was the one who got a huge party, even after wasting his father’s money on whores. I frowned. I knew the story was supposed to be about forgiveness, but I thought it was ridiculous. I mean, the older brother wasn’t even invited to the party. He just happened to hear all the music while he was still slaving away out in the field. Why should the one who actually does what he’s supposed to never get anything good? I sighed and decided to switch journals before I got any more worked up. I knew that if I kept going, I would start thinking about how I felt sympathy for Lucifer again. I remembered back to when I had first thought about that. I didn’t think it was such a terrible thing, but when I told Allen about it, he almost broke up with me.

“Fiona,” he had said. “You can’t feel sorry for the devil. He’s nothing but evil.” He sighed at me, then added, “I’ll pray for you. I suggest you start praying about it too.” I lied and told him that I would. Ironically, that was the entry I happened to turn to when I opened my journal. “Poor angel,” my handwriting said. I bit my lip, painfully aware that Allen had refused to sit with me on the way back. He thought it would be seen as impure, but apparently it was fine if he sat with Margaret instead. I tried not to look up to where he was, but I couldn’t stop myself. She was asleep, resting her head on his shoulder. I would have bet everything I owned that she was fake sleeping just to have an excuse to touch him. It was the oldest trick in the book. Oh, I’m sorry, was I leaning on you for the past three hours? Silly me, I was asleep. What a skank. And she was only a freshman. Allen was a senior, just a year older than me. I noticed that I was on the verge of ripping several sheets of paper out of my journal, so I took a breath and tried to relax, smoothing out the cream-colored pages as best I could. I closed the book and slipped both into my bag again. I shut my eyes and waited to get back. ~~~ It was tradition for the entire youth group to stand up before the rest of the church and give a testimony of their experiences at camp. I had been terrified my very first year, but now I felt like I had nothing to worry about. I knew exactly what I was going to say. Yes, it was going to be a lie, but I knew it would make everyone happy. “God spoke to me on that trip. I don’t have a calling to become a missionary out in the far reaches of the world, but right here in our home town. He has given me the strength and courage that I’ll need when I go out and try to win lost souls in His name. No amount of persecution can extinguish my passion for the lost, because I have the Lord on my side, and through Him, all

things are possible,” I said. A chorus of amens rumbled throughout the crowd. They loved it, just like I knew they would. After the service, I sat in my car and wondered if I ought to be feeling guilty for lying like that. I held my Bible in my lap and waited for the Holy Spirit to convict me for my sins. Nothing happened. I sighed and drove home. When I got there, my cell phone rang. It was Allen. He hadn’t said much to me at church, but he had never been big on acting like a couple while we were there anyway. He didn’t think it was appropriate, since it was a holy place. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to him. I needed some more time to stop being so mad about the whole Margaret thing. He was always telling me I had to work on not being so jealous, and I wasn’t about to let him find out how angry that incident had made me, so I let his call go to voicemail. Moments later, I got a text message. I think it would be best if we broke up. Ok, I responded, too shocked to say anything else. I got back into my car, letting my head fall onto the steering wheel. I heard my phone go off again, but tossed it out the window and onto the lawn without looking up. My dog barked and I heard the chain rattle as he tugged against it, ready and willing to play fetch. “That’s my cell phone, dummy. It doesn’t need to be in your mouth,” I groaned miserably. I put the car in gear and drove to the pool. My bathing suit was still packed in my bags, so I was able to grab it before I walked in. I changed in the locker room and walked out to the water, taking satisfaction that I didn’t have to wear a t-shirt over my suit anymore now that I was out of the church camp’s jurisdiction. I put a foot in, but decided it was too cold. I didn’t feel like swimming anyway. I sat down in a chair by the concession area and started people-watching.

One of the lifeguards was hitting on a blonde who was sprawled out on a bright pink beach towel. Her suit was definitely not designed for swimming. The tiny, strapless top looked like it could fall off at any second. She looked pretty dark; I wondered how bad her tan lines were. I was somewhat disgusted with myself for thinking about such pointless things, but I had to have something to keep my mind off of my newly ended relationship. The lifeguard was leaning over her, and I was getting ready to make bets with myself on how close he could get before his whistle dipped between her cleavage when I saw Mark outside the pool, walking down the road. I got up from my spot and leaned against the fence, hooking my fingers through some of the links. I’d had a bit of a crush on him since he moved here from Missouri during my eighth grade year. We got to know each other doing school plays once we were freshman, and had been in every show together since then. Allen always told me that I was wasting my time with theater stuff. He thought I should be using my acting abilities to glorify the name of the Lord, but church plays were never as much fun as the ones at school. Besides, Mark wouldn’t be caught dead near anything religious—other than me, I guess. But that’s assuming I counted as being religious in the first place. I wasn’t entirely sure any more, but I knew that acting wouldn’t be the same if I did it without Mark. He noticed me standing there by the fence and waved. I waved back and said, “Hey, come over here.” He hesitated for an instant, then made his way over. “Back from camp, I see. Did you have a good time?” he asked. “Yeah, I guess. It was okay,” I said.

“Just okay?” He raised an eyebrow. “When you guys invited me, you made it sound like it was going to be the trip of a lifetime.” I smiled in spite of myself and said, “Well, maybe for the rest of them it was like that.” “But not for you? Why not?” he asked, tipping his head to one side. I wished the fence wasn’t standing there separating us. “Oh I don’t know. I haven’t been fitting in with everyone as much lately,” I explained. He looked at me, and waited for me to go on. “Like, I’ve never been able to properly pray, and I always pick the wrong characters to like in Bible stories.” Mark laughed and said, “I know exactly what you mean; I was always the same way back when I went to church and all that.” He took on a more serious tone and continued, “But I’ll tell you something that always bothered me, even more than those nonsense Bible stories. I wanna know how we’re expected to make any sense out of the concept of heaven and hell.” “Fiona! There you are,” Allen called. I spun around to face him. “Wh-what are you doing here?” I asked. Seeing him was more painful than I expected. My stomach knotted. I felt sick. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, why haven’t you been answering your phone? I didn’t want to end the relationship—” A bolt of hope shot through me, then died when he finished, “—through a text message.” Nausea gripped me. My right hand reached back to the fence for support. I accidentally brushed one of Mark’s hands with mine. Mark. This had to be extremely awkward for him. “Thanks so much for your consideration, Allen,” I said sarcastically. I don’t think he picked up on it. He didn’t seem to know how to respond.

“Yeeeeah.” He drug out the “eah” sound for three full seconds before saying, “you’re welcome. So I’ll see you next Sunday, I guess.” “I guess.” He walked away and my front of indifference fell apart. I wanted to cry. I turned back around to tell Mark I’d have to talk to him later, but he wasn’t by the fence anymore. Great, more male abandonment issues. Just as I was getting ready to gather my things and leave, there was a tap on my shoulder. “Sorry, I was just leav—” I stopped short when I saw that it was Mark looking back at me. “Hey, you know I’m here for you if you need to talk,” he said. I managed a small smile. “I hope your ears are ready for all of this.” He had, on another occasion, helped me through my very first break up. It was in the middle of sophomore year. We spent hours after play practice sitting on the empty stage, with me doing most of the talking and all of the crying. The curtains had been drawn around us, shielding us from the outside world. It had become a favorite place for us to use anytime we wanted to talk. “They’re always ready,” he replied. He led me onto the familiar path that wound into the forest. Mark’s infamous thinking place. One night, a custodian caught us on the stage and had assumed the worst. Mark and I had nearly gotten suspended for allegedly fornicating on school grounds, so we opted to find a new place to continue our talks. A small clearing in the middle of the woods near the pool did the trick, and we had been meeting there ever since. It was cool under the trees, and I was still just in my bathing suit. I had forgotten my towel and clothes back at the pool. The squeals of excited children had faded away, replaced by rustling leaves and the occasional cricket chirping in the underbrush. Mark noticed me rubbing my arms for warmth and peeled off his t-shirt, then offered it to me. I gladly accepted, and

silently cursed the undershirt that still covered his chest. The fabric felt wonderful against my skin, and it had a nice ‘other person’ smell to it. When we finally made it, Mark sat down on his usual rock and I huddled up next to him. If Margaret could rest her head on a guy who was in a relationship, then I could do it with a guy who wasn’t. I gave a little sigh, and Mark put his arm around me. “Ready when you are, Fee.” I took a couple deep breaths to prepare myself. “Where do I start? I don’t even know what to say about Allen. He’d been acting distant for a while. I just thought it was because he’s really religious, but I guess he—” I stopped, a sob catching in my throat. “He wanted to break up with me. He didn’t want to be with me anymore.” Saying it like that made me feel terrible. It made things unbelievably real to me. “The worst part is, it was probably all my fault. I could have prevented it if I had just been good enough.” I was getting ready to start full-on crying when Mark suddenly took me by my shoulders and forced me to look directly at him. “Hey, don’t say that, you’re plenty good,” he said. “Way better than Allen. And it’s not your fault at all. Okay well—maybe a little bit your fault.” I looked at him, horrified that he agreed. “What? R-really?” I asked, wiping away the fresh tears from my cheeks. Mark smiled at me. “Yeah, for dating such an idiot in the first place.” He pulled me close and hugged me. I cried harder. It had been obvious to everyone but me how much of a jerk Allen had been, and I was finally starting to realize it for myself. He listened as I recounted such events as Allen falling asleep during one of our dates, Allen forgetting my birthday and not even bothering to apologize, and Allen almost always ignoring me unless we were completely alone.

“And he would do these things with me. He would—” I trailed off, not sure I wanted to go here with Mark. He waited for me to go on, and I continued in a rush, desperate to get it all off of my chest. “He’d get me all worked up by making out with me and feeling me up and sometimes going under my shirt, but then the next day would go on about how we needed to slow things down or else we’d be damned forever for having premarital sex, and that you can’t undo any of the things that you do, so then I’d feel like complete shit because he made me feel like I should have stopped him or something or that I was tempting him too much and I needed to back off, but I wanted it, Mark. I liked being kissed and having my skin touched.” I paused to catch my breath before adding softly, “I still want it.” “Are you sure?” he asked. “Yes,” I assured him, hoping he would catch the hint that I wanted it from him. He took my face in his hands and kissed me gently. I wanted to cry again because it was so beautiful and felt so perfect. I stopped kissing him to tell him this and he laughed at me. “Makes you wonder why it never happened before now, doesn’t it?” His hands were now resting on my hips and I nodded as I leaned in to kiss him again. “Oh wait!” I exclaimed. Mark jumped back in surprise. “What?” he asked. “We never got to talk about heaven and hell and all that,” I said. He laughed again—this time with relief—and asked, “Do you still want to?” “Well yeah. I mean, even when I was a little kid, heaven didn’t make sense to me. I didn’t understand how all the people who went there could possibly be happy all the time. So, before we were so rudely interrupted, I got really excited when you said you didn’t get how they expect us to believe in such an outrageous concept.”

How they expect us to believe. I had just put myself on the opposing team. Mark smiled and then asked, “Are you shivering again? I’m running out of clothes to give you.” He glanced down at his watch. “Well I suppose that makes sense. It’s getting pretty late. We should go back and get your things from the pool.” “What time is it?” I asked. “Quarter ‘til nine,” he said. “The pool closes at eight.” “Your point?” he asked me, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “We can jump the fence and get your stuff if it’s still out in the open. And if it’s locked up, then we’ll just go back tomorrow.” When we made it back, Mark approached the fence and began to climb. He got to the top, swung himself over and dropped to the other side. He made it look so easy. I tentatively put a foot in one of the links and hoisted myself up towards the top. I climbed the rest of the way, and let my right leg dangle onto the other side. My left remained stationed outside of the pool. I sat up there, on the fence, while Mark waited for me to come down. “So do you still believe in heaven, even though it doesn’t make sense?” I asked him. “Nope. I don’t believe in any of it. God, Jesus, you name it. I mean, I’m not saying that I’m absolutely right about it; nobody really knows. I don’t think that having faith in something makes you a better person. I may not have religion, or a relationship with God or whatever, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have morals.” I thought about everything he said and found myself agreeing with him. I didn’t need the church to be a good person, and I didn’t need other people telling me how I should live my life. This was all besides the fact that I was in the process of climbing a fence. I felt so bad ass. Mark

extended his hand to me. I took it and leapt down to the other side. I miraculously managed to land on my feet, but he partially caught me anyway, supporting my back as I stood upright. We stood there for a beat—his arm around me, my hand still holding his—before he finally let go. “So where did you leave your stuff?” he asked. My clothes were the last things I wanted at the moment, but I took a step back from him and motioned towards the building. “I changed in the locker room when I got here earlier.” He walked up to the glass doors and pushed, but the door didn’t open. I noticed my towel was still folded up on the ground, so I leaned down to pick that up. At least I could take that back with me. As I lifted the towel, my car keys fell to the ground. Lucky they were in there, or I would’ve had to walk home. Mark came back to where I was standing and shrugged. “Sorry, guess they keep a pretty tight ship around here,” he said. “It’s fine, I can come back for it tomorrow,” I said. I walked to the side of the pool and wondered if the water was cold. I sat down by the edge and put in one of my feet. It was chilly, but felt good at the same time. I put in my other foot, and let my legs slide into the water, up to the bottom of my knees. Mark sat down beside me. “How is it?” he asked. The reflection of the moon wavered as the ripples from my legs disrupted the water. I glanced up to the sky. I wasn’t worked into an emotional frenzy this time, and the stars were just as beautiful as they had been on that night from camp. “Not what I’m used to,” I said, smiling and taking his hand. “It’s different, but nice. I like it.”