Original Son

Chapter 1
Part 1

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Chapter Description: Joining New Life.

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Original Son

(Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Bible School)

At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a child, whom he put among them, and said, "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven."

Matthew 18:1-3

What God wants God gets. God help us all.

Roger Waters, Amused to Death

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Maybe it was the look on his parents’ expectant faces at his baptism still etched in his memory, maybe the weekly regimen of sermons and youth group meetings, or maybe the Holy Book itself. Matthew couldn’t be sure, but every time he tried to masturbate on a major religious holiday the same indescribable guilt seized him. There, in the middle of his oftentimes elaborate fuck fantasies, the specter of baby Jesus would whine and wail as if Matt had knowingly upset the very balance of heaven and earth.

”Matt, honey, are you dressed yet?” his mother called from the foot of the stairs.

”Almost, Mom,” Matt yelled back.

To be continued, he thought as he quickly buttoned his crisp new shirt, discarded the ready tissue, and pulled the underwear over his already wilting penis. Perhaps the annoying interruptions were God’s way of saying “not today.” It was Easter, after all. Maybe a brief hiatus from his regular masturbation schedule was in order. With the new school calendar in place, Matt had a full four weeks to enjoy the pleasures of dating Miss Palmer. And even then, only a few months separated him from Butler University and total freedom from his hopelessly oppressive parents.

Fastening his freshly ironed sport jacket, Matthew made a final check of his new wares in the bathroom mirror before joining the family downstairs. “A new church calls for new clothes,” his mother had said.

For the first time since Matt could remember, this Easter he, along with his parents Richard and Patricia, would not be attending the traditional morning service at First Church of Christ on Vine Street. This year the Kesslers would test the waters at New Life Christian, a relatively young church with a growing and enthusiastic congregation on the north side of town.

”There’s our handsome young man,” Patricia announced when her son reluctantly marched downstairs. Spying some stray dog hair clinging to the back his coat, she walked over and brushed it off immediately. “I told you not to pet Starsky...“

”I didn’t, Mom.”

”It looks a little crinkled here...“

”Mom!” Matt chided. “It’s fine. Now can we just go?”

”It’s not every day we switch churches, Matthew. This is a big deal,” Patricia reminded her antsy son. “From what Candace’s mom said, this place has people excited about going to services again. It could be a good change for us.”

Matt knew better than to question his mother’s convictions. When Matt was only a toddler, no older than three, she used to stroll him around the church grounds almost every afternoon. From the time he reached preschool onward, Patricia ensured that he would come to realize the importance of living a faithful life. As an elementary school kid, it was Vacation Bible School. When Matt turned nine he joined the Youth Group, where he met his one and only “church friend,” a blunt, punky girl named Candace Summers.

Though they were both only fourth-graders at the time, Matt and Candace felt magnetically drawn to each other instantly. Their bond was born out of a mutual mistrust, a curious detachment from their surroundings. While other kids happily marched in lockstep, memorizing their weekly Bible verses and gleefully singing silly worship songs, Matt and Candace sat in the back row and traded jokes about Pastor Ostrander’s huge preacher hair. (“Maybe God accidentally electrocuted it.”)

By middle school the pair developed a reputation for giggling during sermons and making mock farting noises in the pews with their underarms, a routine that quickly exhausted Pastor Ostrander’s nerves. As freshmen in high school, Matt and Candace stayed close and even made out a few times during mission trips. Still, their relationship never escalated beyond the occasional kiss, and toward the end of high school their schedules kept them apart more often than not. But they remained good friends and still sat next to each other in church, where they continued to swap the same wisecracks every week.

Such antics hardly went unnoticed.

Tired of being the responsible for the two most notorious black sheep in the flock, Matt and Candace’s parents had convened one Sunday after church and decided their kids needed a change. So, as a last ditch attempt to set Matt and Candace on the right spiritual path before college, they elected to give the new, more trendy New Life Christian Church a shot.

”Now give it a chance, Matthew,” Patricia said, buckling her seat belt. “They offer a contemporary worship service too, you know, with more rock music and stuff like that.”

Alone in the backseat, Matt rolled his eyes. He found it insulting when churches adopted mainstream trends just to cater to a younger audience, as if the message might miraculously become more palatable when amplified and accompanied by three part harmonies.

As they pulled into the crowded parking lot, Matt spied Candace’s parents exiting their maroon Dodge minivan. A throng of well-dressed visitors were filing into the main sanctuary.

”Well, this is it,” Richard remarked.

Soon Matt and his parents joined the swarm of chatty churchgoers.

Gazing at the stone archway above the entrance as he walked under, Matt saw a verse inscribed in Old English lettering: “Matthew 19:14: Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to these.”

”Thank you for coming, God bless you, thank you for coming, great to see you this morning, God bless...“ a spirited greeter repeated as he shook hands with each new arrival. Matt took stock of how the hospitable Southern grin seemed glued to his face, like the deliberate smile of a politician campaigning for reelection. Friendly, and yet vaguely menacing.

Inside the sanctuary the church appeared surprisingly rustic. With sunlight filtering through a series of old-fashioned stained glass windows, the interior lit up like a rainbow. A beautiful mahogany pulpit graced the left side of the stage while a large triangular baptismal pool occupied the right end.

A voice caught Matt’s attention as he floated down the center aisle.

”Matt, over here,” Candace said, motioning.

In the midst of a crowd of strangers, it was nice to see a familiar face.

As Matt planted himself next to his longtime church companion he noticed that her appearance had changed slightly since they had last seen each other three weeks ago. Gone was her usual unkempt bob of silky black hair and in its place was a neater cut, without the jagged ends that gave her an “alternative” look.

”Haircut?” he asked.

”Oh yeah, Mom begged me to get a regular cut and I finally gave in. Part of her endless quest to make me normal.” Candace shrugged. “I see you’re all dressed up.”

”You never get a second chance to make a first impression,” Matt mimicked the infamous shampoo commercial.

A single organ note rang out and a reverent hush soon swept the congregation. What followed was a typical service with hymns, scripture readings, and intermittent calls to prayer. Toward the middle of the presentation, all visitors fourteen and younger were invited down to the front for “Altar Chat” with Brother Yelton, a kindly silver-haired gentlemen who offered a sanitized, kid-friendly version of the sermon that would come later.

Brother Yelton started by paraphrasing a quote from Jesus that would figure heavily into that day’s message. Clearing his throat, he commenced with his tale while the kids fidgeted at his feet.

”Here’s a story I think you all are really going to like. Listen up, now. One day Jesus and his friends were walking along, you see, and one of them suddenly asked Jesus a question. He said, ?Who is the best in all the kingdom of heaven? Who makes God the happiest?’ Well, Jesus thought for a moment and then pulled a little child close to him and you know what he said?”

A chance squeal erupted from one of the younger children. Giggles followed.

”He said the answer was a child. And he told the disciples they had to become like little children too!” Brother Yelton’s voice rose in an exaggerated crescendo. “So you know what, boys and girls? You’re already ahead of the game. God wants every one of us - your big brothers and big sisters, your mommies and daddies, all of us, to become just like you!”

”But dey’re gwown-ups!” one perceptive red-haired boy chimed.

”I know that, Danny. But guess what? We’re all children when we follow God,” Brother Yeltson explained excitedly. “He’s so big and powerful that we’re all like little kindergartners to him, just playing out on the playground and having fun. You like having fun, right?”

Matt snickered. “No, we hate having fun.”

”Yeah!” the group of children chanted almost in unison.

”I thought so,” Brother Yelton said. “Well, we’ve got a big treat for you, okay? Mrs. Parker and Mrs. Robins have backed up some yummy cookies and you’ll each get one, does that sound good?”

”Yeah!”

”Well, you run along to Sunday School, okay? Just follow your teachers over there. And you can meet up with your parents afterward and tell them about what you learned today.”

Trying admirably to suppress the laughter, Candace instead snorted. Matt traded glances with her and soon found himself on the cusp of a hardy laugh.

All it took to convince kids of biblical inerrancy was the promise of a sugar cookie.

About forty minutes in, sermon time arrived and Pastor Leary advanced to the pulpit and glared soberly at his audience.

Candace leaned over and cupped her hands at Matt’s ear. ”Get ready for some choice material. This guy is nuttier than squirrel shit.”

”Today,” Brother Leary began, “we are gathered here in the sight of the Lord on this Easter Sunday. And what a day it is, my friends. Only three months ago this sanctuary held a crowd half this size. The word of the Lord is bringing people together, making the bonds of this community stronger each and every day, and I thank God, for he is blessing us in ways we cannot even begin to imagine.”

Matt and Candace assumed their usual sermon postures, arms crossed and slouched in their seats like two narcoleptic Gen Xers watching the Teletubbies at 4 a.m. Bored and easily distracted, Matt pulled one of the visitor comment cards from the hymnal rack in front of him. He recognized Candace’s mom’s handwriting. She had listed each of their names and fill in all the information columns, including one for age. As he moved to tuck the slip of paper back, he noticed something weird.

”Pssst, Candace. Look at what your mom wrote.” He showed her the card.

”Why would she put that?” Candace asked uneasily.

In the spot across from “Candace Summers” marked age, Sharon had written “17.”

Matt leaned closer and whispered, “Maybe she forgot about your last birthday.”

”I’m just hoping she didn’t forget about the one coming up.”

”But today I don’t want to talk about being a better person, or spreading the word of God. I don’t want to talk about sin and the destruction it brings into our lives. No, friends, what I want to talk about today is... transformation. What Christ did for us on Easter Sunday and what he calls us to do for him. And Lord, I pray that this day might transform us all through the grace of the holy spirit...”

”Oh, cool,” Candace said, returning to her usual sardonic self. “Pastor Leary isn’t just a robot, he’s a transformer.”

”You know what would be a miracle,” Matt answered, “transforming me into an awake person.”

”Because when that happens, when you allow the Lord inside your heart, I’m telling you, folks, it’s like nothing else in this world. Invite Jesus into you heart and boom, like that, your sins are forgiven. Gone. Obliterated. Washed away forever. That’s what Jesus was talking about when he said we must become like little children. We have to let go of ourselves and put our trust in God, who makes all things new...”

For the duration of Pastor Leary’s message, the two teens continued their running commentary. No one took notice except for their parents, who occasionally elbowed them and quietly asked that they refrain from talking during the message.

After the enlightening sermon, everyone lined up for communion as Matt and Candace went through the motions for the eleven-thousandth time. On the way back to their seats, they joked that the portions were a tad slim.

”New Life is a little stingy with the Welch’s, huh?” Candace remarked.

When services finally concluded, the organ sounded once more. As the chords of “How Great Thou Art” roared through the emptying sanctuary, Matt and Candace said goodbye and departed with their parents. On the ride home, Patricia asked Matt how he would feel about attending Youth Group Wednesday night.

”Candace will be there.”

”She will?” Matt lifted an eyebrow.

”We’ve discussed it with her parents and they think it would be a great chance for you two to make some new friends at church.”

”Ummm, that’s all right then, I guess.” Matt had long since given up trying to sway his mother. It was better to humor her than launch into another heated religious debate.

Fan-fucking-tabulous.

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Days passed and the Youth Group meeting approached. When 6:30 arrived, Matthew had all but forgotten about the gathering. As usual it took Patricia’s raised voice to rouse Matt from his online stupor. He hit escape on his chat windows and reassured her. “Just finishing up a few things, Mom. I’ll be down in a sec.”

As Matt whizzed by on his way out the door, Patricia eyed his attire. “You’re not wearing that, are you?”

Popping his head back around the door frame, Matt replied, “It’s just a Radiohead shirt, Mom. No curse words, I promise.”

”All right,” Patricia acquiesced. “Have a good time. Remember, you don’t always have to play the depressed kid.”

”Right,” Matt mumbled. “Who’s playing?”

A symphony of creaks and rattles emanated from Matt’s ailing Camry as he tooled down Redding Street. Used to his car’s many quirks, Matt had grown nearly deaf to them, just as he had grown accustomed to shutting off his parents’ constant yapping about religion. Why his mother held out hope that one more Youth Group meeting would suddenly erase years of hardcore atheism he would never understand.

Parking next to Candace’s Honda, a vehicle so wallpapered with liberal bumper stickers that it resembled a bulletin board at the art college, Matt prepared himself for the hour of follies ahead.

Inside the youth wing of New Life Christian Church, teens and preteens, many wearing hip pro-God t-shirts and WWJD bracelets, mixed and mingled. Matt eventually spotted Candace across the room at the refreshments table.

”Any whiskey over here?” Matt deadpanned.

”Nope, everyone here is high on life,” Candace said, tossing back a swig of flat Pepsi. “If we’re lucky, maybe they’ll let us drink from the well.”

”Hey, when did you pull that old thing out?”

Candace glanced down at her Dave Matthews Band tour shirt, a form-fitting women’s top she hadn’t donned since her driver’s license photo.

”Oh, this thing,” she said. “Yeah, I guess everything else was dirty.”

”Do you even listen to them anymore?”

Candace paused. “No, I guess not. Still shows off my boobs nicely though, don’t ya think?” She struck an exaggerated model pose, bending over like Marilyn Monroe on the steam vent. Drawn to the close-up view of Candace’s cleavage, Matt could only stutter in agreement.

“Very nice, yes,” he said, still thinking that the outfit made Candace look younger somehow.

”Just wanted to make sure you still enjoy the scenery.”

Since the first day he met her, Matthew had admired Candace’s curious non-adherence to any societal norms, or as she called them, “social constructs.” Politeness, etiquette, traditional gender roles - she treated them all like enemies. Matt would never forget the night after Candace’s twelfth birthday party, when she pulled him aside into the bathroom and locked the door. Out of the blue, she had eagerly proposed a deal.

”I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

The episode was pure impulse. And though Matthew never possessed the will or imagination to instigate such little adventures, he often went along for the ride. So there, under the harsh florescent bathroom lights, Matt had timidly lowered his pants and exhibited his small adolescent genitals.

Dutifully keeping her end of the bargain Candace had voluntarily removed her shirt and training bra, revealing an elfin pair of breasts punctuated by two puffy pink nipples. For a minute they just stared at one another, each taking a moment to process what the other looked like naked.

But Candace quickly and characteristically broke the silence. “I know they’re not very big,” she said casually, tracing her fingers around the areolas. “But Mom says they’re just starting to grow, so you know...”

Matt remembered that the experience had left him speechless, stunned that Candace thought so little of being half nude in front of him. He found her lack of inhibition both frightening and refreshing.

Once the meeting commenced, Youth Pastor Tom Dennison invited all of the newcomers to stand up and introduce themselves.

First at the microphone was a compact, olive-skinned young man with gelled hair and long sideburns. ”Hi, my name is Ryan. I’m a sophomore originally from California. Umm, I just got a car and, umm, I really like skating and biking, mostly skating...”

Then came Nathan, an overweight kid with a deep voice and cheeks populated with acne. “My name is Nathan Gibbons and I just turned seventeen. I like games a lot and my favorite band is Switchfoot...”

Lexi Milosch was third. The pretty blonde spoke nervously in a soft, innocent voice. The absence of words coming from her mouth did her no favors either, as her large breasts seemed to be the ones truly vying for attention.

[img align=left; footer=’’; border=0; showfooter=1;]http://www.ararchive.com/images/stories/albums/Original-Son-Photos/2_Lexi17.jpg[/img]

Inevitably the spotlight fell on Candace. She stood up and grudgingly shuffled toward the mic. “OK, so my name is Candace Marie Summers. I’m sixteen and I go to Marks Station High School. And... well... I’d like to take this opportunity to thank the Academy and the Hollywood Foreign Press. You guys are great. My producers and my agent. And all the fans. Thank you and goodnight. Free Tibet.”

A few chuckles ran through the room.

As Candace returned to her seat, she discovered Matt amused and perplexed.

”Did you hear what you just said up there?”

”Yeah, I drew a blank,” Candace said. “Audience reaction seemed positive though.”

”No, your age. You said you were sixteen.”

”I did?”

Matt nodded. “Want me to read you the transcript?”

”Hmm,” was the only reply.

Though the remainder of the meeting was riddled with prime joke fodder, Matthew kept coming back to the brief verbal slip in his mind. He had never known Candace to make such an obvious mistake, especially about her own age. As the evening wore on he found himself haunted by the vague impression that something was amiss.

Wiping his forehead as he drove home that night, Matthew detected a crop of small bumps at his hairline.

Strange, he thought. My zits cleared up last summer.

Rain pummeled the windshield like a waterfall. He boosted the wiper setting and squinted. The roads were slick and Matt suddenly felt like a first time driver.

 

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