Just Ask (10 page)

Even when Natalie asked how I was doing as we rode to school on Monday—and I know she meant the thing about the crying jag last Saturday—I calmly told her that I'd had a really bad case of PMS last week (and that was not a lie!).

And thankfully, Cesar and Jake didn't bring my little outburst up at lunchtime. But to my surprise and relief, they were both a lot sweeter and nicer than usual to me. Jake didn't even tease me with any of his stupid Buddha jokes. Really, they were respectful, and I appreciated it. Lucky for me, they got into the ‘Just Ask” column again. And this time it wasn't even painful to listen.

“I wonder what happened to him,” said Cesar. Apparently Cesar still assumes that Jamie is a guy. And that's cool with me. “It's like he had this total turnaround.”

“Yeah,” agreed Jake. “Do you think our prayers really worked?”

‘Or maybe Jamie was trying to conceal his or her faith at first,” suggested Natalie, as if she'd really given this some thought. “Maybe he or she, whichever it is, was just trying to be careful about not crossing that line. Like she could get in trouble for saying something about God in the newspaper.”

Then Nat peered over at me, and I actually started to freak, like maybe she knew that I was Jamie. “Your dad works for the paper, Kim, are there rules against writing about God?”

I kind of shrugged like I wasn't sure. “What about freedom of the press? And there was an article about Hinduism not too long ago.”

Before long they went back to analyzing Jamie again. As usual, they ended up arguing over whether Jamie was a he or she, and I began to breathe easier. Sometimes I can't believe that someone doesn't figure out that Jamie is really me. Especially Nat, since she knows me better than anyone. But then sometimes you don't notice something that's sitting right under your nose. You kind of take it for granted. like God, for instance. I'm pretty sure He was there all along. I mean, the whole time I was getting bummed and upset and trying to figure out the whole religion, Buddha, and universe thing, God was just patiently waiting for me to look up and see.

I got some new “Just Ask” letters this week. Thankfully there were a few lighter ones in the bunch. A good thing since I felt the column was getting a little heavy. One of them really cracked me up.

I finally told Nat about committing my life to God. I waited until we were on our way home from school. I kept it brief and didn't admit that this all happened more than a week ago.

‘That is so cool, Kim!”

I nod. “I thought you'd be happy to hear that I'm not a heathen anymore.”

She laughs. “I never thought of you like that.”

“Yeah, sure. Tell me you weren't pretty worried about the whole Buddhism thing.”

“Oh, I knew you'd figure it all out in time.”

“Right.”

“I did.”

Then I smile. ‘Okay, I guess you were right.”

“So, do you think you'd ever want to come to my youth group? I mean, since your church doesn't have one.”

Now I carefully consider this invitation, and although I really don't want to hurt her feelings, the truth of the matter is, I don't want to go to her humungous church. It overwhelms me.

“I'm not sure,” I finally say. And I can tell she's disappointed, and I probably need to explain. “It's just that your church is so big. I feel kind of lost in the crowd, you know?”

She nods. “Yeah, I know what you mean. But I think it'd be good for you to have that kind of fellowship. I mean, I'm sure your church is fine, but.

“Do you really think it matters whether I go to youth group or not? I mean, I plan on going to my old church again.” I don't admit that I've already been there twice since my recommitment.

“I guess that's fine. But our youth pastor is always telling us we need fellowship.”

“But what does that really mean, Nat?”

“I think it means we need a place where we can be with Christian friends, like people our own age, a place where we're comfortable enough to just talk and encourage each other and pray and stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess that sounds cool.” Even so, I do not want to go to Nat's youth group. As much as I love her, I have to draw the line. “Where do Cesar and Jake go to church?” I ask suddenly. Now they might've already told me this before, but it is possible I wasn't listening.

“They go to the same place that Chloe Miller goes. It's that church downtown in the old department store. I can't even remember the name of it.”

“Oh.” I consider this but don't admit that visiting the church where Chloe goes sounds way more appealing than going to Natalie's church. I know she would take it wrong. Besides, I'm happy for Nat that she likes her church. And her mom likes it too. And after Nat's dad left, I know this is really important to their family.

“I guess the best thing is to go to whatever church God leads you to, Kim. He'll show you if you ask Him.”

I nod as I pull up in front of her house. “I'll do that.”

“Well, anyway, I think it's so awesome that you've invited Jesus into your heart!” She reaches across and gives me a big hug. “I'm so happy for you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“So, do you think you'll get baptized now?”

Baptized? Our church doesn't really do that sort of thing. Oh, maybe for babies occasionally, although I haven't even seen anything like that for a really long time. “I don't know. I guess I don't really know much about it.”

“My pastor says you have to get baptized.” She opens the door. “He says you have to do full immersion,
going down under the water. It's like dying to yourself and being raised by Jesus.”

I nod as I attempt to take this in. “Well, I guess I'll have to find out about that.” But the truth is, I'm not so sure about it. I mean, what difference should it make to God whether you get dunked in water or not?

“I better hurry.” She grabs her bag. “I almost forgot that I'm supposed to pick up Krissy and Micah from after-school care today.”

As I drive down to my house, I am amazed at how much responsibility Nat seems to carry. It's like she's become a second parent since her dad left. Sometimes I wonder if it ever gets to her, all this responsibility and stuff. I mean, she vents occasionally, but mostly she just seems to hang in there. It's pretty incredible if you think about it.

And suddenly it occurs to me that I could be a way better friend. I could offer to help with Krissy and Micah sometimes. I'm not really into little kids. Okay, I've never even been around them much. But maybe I should stretch myself and help out. As I park my Jeep, I wonder where this idea has come from. Like is it God telling me to think of someone besides myself for a change?

Not that I'm such a horrible selfish person, but I suppose I mostly think about myself and my own problems. As a result, I'm mildly surprised to find myself feeling this concerned for my best friend, and I'm certain it must be a God-thing.

Anyway, I call up Nat and offer to take her to pick up
the kids. It's a small thing, but I can tell that she really appreciates it.

And since both Krissy and Micah seem to be starving when we pick them up, we stop by the Dairy Queen on our way home, and I buy everyone an ice cream cone.

“Why are you being so nice to us, Kim?” Micah looks suspicious as he catches a drip of ice cream with his tongue.

I kind of laugh. “Because I like you.”

Krissy nods and scoots closer to me in the booth. “We like you too.”

“And I was thinking…” I continue, but wonder if I could be getting in over my head here. “I could maybe help to watch you guys sometimes.”

Nat looks as if she's about to fall over. “You're kidding?”

I frown. “Not really”

“I didn't think you liked little kids.”

I make a face at her. “Well, I've never really liked to babysit, if that's what you mean. But then I had that bad experience with the Blanton brats. Remember?”

She smirks. “Yeah. I guess that was sort of my fault. I should've warned you that those boys were into matches.”

“They were a regular pair of pyromaniacs. It's a wonder they didn't bum the whole house down.”

“I quit watching them after that too,” Nat says.

“But Krissy and Micah are different.” I smile at them and hope that this is somewhat true, because I've
actually witnessed these two in some real knock-down-drag-outs. One time we actually thought Micah had killed Krissy when he whacked her over the head with a wooden baseball bat. Thankfully he was only seven at the time, and his swing wasn't what it probably is now. But Krissy had quite a lump on her forehead for a few days, and Micah's bat promptly disappeared after that.

“So you would babysit us?” Micah's face is that of a ten-year-old skeptic.

“Why not?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. It just seems kinda weird.”

“You guys are kind of like family,” I tell him.

Now Krissy reaches for my hand. “You can be like our other big sister, Kimmy.”

“That's right,” I tell her, and Natalie looks slightly stunned but pleased.

After we get to their house, I tell Nat that I'm serious. “Really, just call me if you guys need an extra hand. I want to be here for you.”

She shakes her head, as if she's still somewhat amazed. “This is so cool, Km. It's like God is really changing you.”

“Yeah.” I smile. “I guess so.”

And maybe that's what it is. Maybe I'm going to start thinking more about others and less about me. Whatever it is, it feels pretty good. Besides, my family is pretty small with just my parents and me. I think there's room in my life for more. And Nat is like family to me. Why shouldn't I get more involved with Krissy and Micah too?
I just hope that watching them doesn't turn out to be something” like one of my “Just Ask” letters.

The word has slowly leaked out (among the Christians since no one else would really care) that Kim Peterson has joined their forces. Okay, that's kind of how it seems, but I know that they don't exactly regard themselves as an army, at least I hope not. But sometimes it's as if they're taking a head count, and they get all excited when a new recruit joins the ranks. Or maybe it's just me. Anyway, I try not to let things like this get to me. I try to just go with the flow, and I've been asking God to show me how to be who He wants me to be. I figure He's the one who should know. Right?

“Natalie told me that you're not into the whole youth group thing,” Cesar says to me as we both wait in the lunch line.

I consider this. “Well, maybe not so much.” I peer up
at him, studying his response. For some reason I care about what he thinks. Maybe its because he seems pretty grounded when it comes to God.

“Hey, that's cool,” he says as he picks up a tray and hands it to me.

“It's just that my church is too small to have one. And Nat's church is so huge…well, I think I'd feel kind of lost there.”

He nods as he gets a drink cup and straw. “I know what you mean.”

“And I didn't really want to hurt her feelings, but maybe I just don't see the point either. I guess there's a lot I still have to figure out.”

Cesar smiles. “There's always a lot, Kim. And don't worry, you'll never get it all figured out.”

“So do you go to youth group?” I ask as I try to decide between chicken noodle soup or green salad.

“Yeah, but not at my church. My family is Catholic, and I go to mass with them on Sundays, but then I go to a youth group at Faith Fellowship.”

“Is that where Chloe goes?”

He nods, then orders a cheeseburger from the cafeteria lady who never smiles. “Did you know Chloe's brother Josh is the youth pastor now?”

Well, for some reason this really intrigues me, and I suppose Cesar guesses this from my expression.

“Do you think you'd like to come some time?” he asks.

“Maybe.” But even as I say this, I'm not totally sure. I
mean, the idea of being in a church youth group sounds kind of, well, intimidating and uncomfortable. Like what if they go around the room and ask hard questions and expect you to say something brilliant or spiritual or insightful? What would I do?