God and Girl is my first novel, written in 2015. I'll post it, a chapter a day, over the next few weeks.
“What time are you planning on going to school to register?” Mom said, standing just inside my bedroom door. I had just opened my eyes and hadn’t yet had a thought, about anything, much less school. Summer-time Monday’s are not supposed to be about work, responsibility, and preparing for my future.
“I’ve decided not to register. I’m skipping this year, but I promise I’ll register this time next year.” I said to Mom. Never would I have said that to Dad.
“Okay girl, let’s finish this discussion at breakfast. I’m just finishing up your favorite–blue-berry waffles and bacon.”
“Okay, that’s a bribe I cannot refuse. Be there in five.” I responded with mixed feelings.
Whether I truly want to or not, I have no choice. Registration is today or tomorrow, and I have plans tomorrow with Sarah, Ryan, and Lisa. So, it must be today. I must admit I am a little excited. Only once in a lifetime does one start high school. Well, I guess I could just fail this year and start over next year. But, that wouldn’t set well for my future, at least according to Mom and Dad.
“These are the best waffles I have ever had, and the bacon is just like I like it, thick and meaty. Thanks Mom.” I said as I chowed down. I was surprised that I was so hungry even though I hadn’t worked out any at all.
“You’re welcome. I thought I might need to do something to warm you to the idea of our Mom and Daughter morning I have planned.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Registration and shopping. You need to register, and I need to meet with Gina McWhorter your school’s liaison with Snead State’s dual enrollment program. After we finish up at Boaz High, we can go shopping for you a few school clothes.”
“Oh great. Like I’m starting middle school again and need my mom to hold my hand as we enter the big and dark prison.” I said.
“It’s not like that at all. You can do your thing and I can do mine. I’ll act like I don’t know you. Of course, our holding hands will be a little suspicious.”
“Funny, funny. I guess I can put up with you at school for such a short and uneventful time, if you will promise to buy me a pair of pink Reiker’s.” I said.
“Deal. Now, get ready. It is already nearly nine.”
Mom and I walked in the main entrance to Boaz High School, without holding hands. I was relieved.
We both went inside the school’s office, which is close to the main entrance and right off the atrium. Mom went straight to Ms. McWhorter’s office beside the principal’s office and I walked over to talk with Mrs. Newsome, the head of registration.
“Hi Mrs. Newsome, I hope you had a nice summer. I’m here to register.”
“Thanks. I did enjoy my time off. Now, let’s see. Ruthie Brown. Here’s your packet. I see you will be in the ninth grade and will have all the required courses: Algebra I, English, World History, and Biology I. All I need is your two elective choices.”
“I have decided I want to take Poetry and Art.” I said.
“Okay, we still have openings in both. One other thing, you probably know Mr. Hickson retired at the end of last year. Dr. Ayers is the new Biology teacher. She asked me to give each ninth grader a copy of a book that will supplement the standard science textbook. Here it is, and I need you to sign this receipt.
I signed the sheet Mrs. Newsome slid in front of me even before looking at the book, Why Evolution is True, by Jerry Coyne. I was a little jolted to see a book with such a bold and controversial title. I can already see some interesting dinner time discussions forming on the horizon. But, what do I know, I was an eighth grader just a few weeks ago. I took the books and a copy of my new schedule that Mrs. Newsome handed me.
“Oh, I forgot to give you this,” Mrs. Newsome said. “It is your reading assignment in the supplement. Dr. Ayers has assigned some homework to complete this week. Enjoy the rest of your summer.”
I walked out of the school’s office and into the Atrium. I had two competing feelings. I was a little pissed about having to read school stuff during my last week of summer vacation, and I had a sick feeling that I had just been tossed a hand-grenade.
While I waited on Mom I saw Ryan coming down the stairs from the faculty office suite. “Hi Ryan, have you registered?”
“Yes, and I’ll be in your Biology class since I got that special waiver last year and took geometry and trig. Have you registered?” He said.
“Yes, I just finished.”
“So, you have your new book in Biology?” Ryan asked.
“Yes, what do you make of this? I doubt if Mr. Hickson would have started us off in this way.”
“I was dumbfounded when I saw the supplement. So, I thought I would go meet Dr. Ayers and find out if she was a witch or an angel. She is neither. Seems very nice. Truly professional. We even had a short talk about Biology and her evolution book. She said that her philosophy is simple. Expose students to the issues, arguments for and against. Thorough analysis was her words. She said she believes most students are smart enough to reason their way to the truth.” Ryan said.
“Well, that sounds okay. Oh, here’s my mom. We are going shopping. Her payment for me letting her come along. See you Wednesday night at youth group.”
“Did you get the Poetry class you wanted?” Mom asked as we walked outside and to the car.
“Yes, I am glad we came today. If we had waited until tomorrow, it might have been too late. I’m surprised there are so many 9th and 10th graders interested in Poetry.”
“Great, let’s go check out those sneakers.” Mom said.
After two hours of shopping and a salad at Crater’s we arrived home before 2:00. A good time for a nap. But, I just couldn’t go right off to sleep. Instead, I thought of Mom and how different her life was growing up and how lucky I was to have her as my mom and to have the life that I do.
Mom grew up in New York City. Like my dad, she was born in the late 60’s. Mom’s parents were what I call high society folks. Her dad was a judge hearing mostly civil cases, mainly white-collar type cases. Her mom was educated as a nurse but quit working shortly after her and my granddad married. She became interested in politics and charity. Mom always said she grew up learning, in an intellectual household. But, it was cold as ice. She didn’t really experience a loving relationship with her parents.
Mom went to private schools all her life and then went on to college at Yale, where she earned an undergraduate degree in Political Science. Her father wanted her to go to law school, but she thought living her adult working life in the courtroom before a judge was only a tad better than marrying a preacher. So much for Mom’s decision-making abilities.
Instead of a law degree, Mom decided to continue her interest in government and political behavior. Rejecting three horribly cold years in Cambridge, Massachusetts and Harvard Law School, she journeyed south to Duke University in Durham, North Carolina where she earned a Master of Arts in Political Science. Fully addicted to education, research, and writing, she came even further south to Atlanta and Emory University where she earned her PhD in Political Science.
It was at Emory that she met Dad and her plans of becoming an Ivy League professor were forever abandoned. I guess love is blind as they say. It is weird, but interesting, what two people in love will do to be together. It’s like all reason goes flying out the window.
Why was Dad at Emory? I think Mom had that question when they first met. He looked more like a logger or oil rig worker than an academic type. But, he proved her wrong–not that he isn’t ruggedly handsome. Fact is, Dad was a student at Emory University, ‘smoking’ his own education addiction in the Candler School of Theology. By the way, Dad had received his undergraduate degree in History with a minor in Biblical Studies at Auburn University in Auburn, Alabama. It seems Dad was destined to be a preacher from age 12. He someway fell in love with hellfire and damnation preaching. At age 12, Dad started going with his friend Joey to First Baptist Church of Selma where his father brought down thunder and lightning.
Mom and Dad met in the Divinity School’s library at Emory University. Mom had never been in this specialty library until that momentous day. She always found everything she needed on the shelves of the School’s main library. Dad had been studying at a corner carrel but shortly before Mom arrived his friend Carl had asked him to babysit his desk in the reference department while he took a fifteen-minute break. During this fifteen minutes, Mom had appeared asking about a book that dealt with Christianity’s influence on the U.S. Constitution or Congress, or something I now forget. She said she was shocked by what Dad said and would never forget. According to Mom—Dad adamantly denies it— he said: “Yes, we have that book and I can get it for you very quickly if you will agree to seriously consider marrying me in the next two years.” Dad says he was way too shy to have even thought something close to this outrageous statement. I’ve always liked Mom’s response. “I will consider it, but I’ll need more verifiable and trustworthy information before I will promise to seriously consider it.”
They both agree they had coffee in the School’s main library cafe the next day. They were off to the races as they say.
Sounds like Mom and Dad had a great start—even if some or all the events and conversation were less than true.
Mom and Dad had a wonderful love story that unfolded over the three years they both attended Emory University.
I’m ready for that nap.
The Pencil Driven Life 