God and Girl is my first novel, written in 2015. I'll post it, a chapter a day, over the next few weeks.
This week is flying by. Registration was on Monday, the radio talk show on Tuesday morning, and our lake trip that afternoon. Wednesday, Mom, Rachel, and I spent the day on house and yard work. And then, another trip to the nursing home with Ryan and our youth group last night. I am flamed out.
Mom and I have just left Snead State and are headed to Nina’s Art Studio in Albertville. Mom is a full professor of Political Science at Snead, our local Junior College. Mom has adapted well from her dreams of teaching at an Ivy League University. Snead State and its students are mighty fortunate to have a teacher with Mom’s educational background. Plus, she is so engaging with her students, always taking a personal interest in each one.
“Okay dear, we are here. Don’t forget your list.” Mom said.
“It hasn’t flown out of my pocket since you reminded me five minutes ago.”
We walked into Nina’s and were surprised to see several students I knew, at least their faces. Kent Jones was with his Dad. Kent won last year’s regional championship in pencil sketching.
We gathered up two sketchbooks, a basic set of water paints, an easel with paper flip board, and ten pencils. We were looking at a display of some of Nina’s paintings when a woman about Mom’s age walked over and said, “Nina is very talented, isn’t she? I think she could do well in a big city studio.”
“Yes, I agree. So many in our community cringe every summer worrying that she will be wooed away by some art institute or big corporation. We all breathe more easily when we learn in the summer that she is still with us. I think she serves every school in the county in some way. We are fortunate in Boaz to have her two days per week.” Mom said.
“The more I learn about the talent in this community, the prouder I am to live here.” The other lady said.
“Hi, I’m Becky, Becky Brown. Nice to meet you.”
“Same to you. I am Emily Ayers.”
“And this is my daughter Ruthie.” Mom said.
“Hi Ruthie. So nice to meet you. I think it is wonderful for young people to be interested in art. I assume you are a student at Boaz?”
“Yes, I’m just about to start the ninth grade.”
“Oh, and here is my daughter Ellen,” Mrs. Ayers said as a young girl about my age walked up with an armload of supplies. “Ellen, please meet Becky Brown and her daughter Ruthie.”
I had barely seen Ellen’s face when she first walked up, with the easel blocking my view. But, when she set everything down on the table behind her and turned towards us saying she was glad to meet us, I saw the most gorgeous girl I have ever seen. I know my mouth must have dropped open fast and probably with loud verbal exclamation points rolling off my tongue. There is no doubt that my heart, forgive the cliché, skipped a beat. It seemed my mind woke up, for the first time in my life, telling me that I was truly alive and that it was time for me to be me, to be my own person. I will never be able to explain exactly how I felt the very first time I looked into Ellen’s eyes.
“Ruthie, Ellen will also be in the ninth grade at Boaz. It appears you will be classmates in your art class since there is only one art class for 9th graders.” Mrs. Ayers said.
“I take it you and your family have just moved here.” Mom said.
“Yes, my husband, Travis, was transferred here from Chicago. He works at Progress Rail Services in Boaz. And, our dear Ellen will be a student at Boaz High.”
“And Mom will be a student of sorts at Boaz High herself.” Ellen said.
“Funny Ellen. But, you are right, as the new Biology teacher I will definitely have a lot to learn.”
“So, you are taking Mr. Hickson’s place?” Mom said.
“Yes, I hear he was a wonderful teacher. I have big shoes to fill.”
While Mom and Mrs. Ayers were chatting back and forth, Ellen and I exchanged direct eye contact a couple of times. It was as though we had known each other our entire lives. It was like a non-verbal exchange of secret thoughts.
“It has been very nice meeting you two. I’m sorry we have to run.” Mom said.
“No problem, Ellen and I need to go also. We have a lot of errands today, as I’m sure you two do.”
“It was very nice to meet you Ellen. I look forward to getting to know you.” I said.
“The pleasure was all mine, as people less goofy than me have said before. Seriously, I hope to see you again very soon.” Ellen said.
Mom and I turned toward the checkout lane and Mrs. Ayers called to me, “Ruthie, please don’t forget to complete your reading assignment before next Monday.”
“I’m planning on doing that today.” I said.
“You already have homework?” Mom said as we stood in line to checkout.
“I have to read the first chapter in a book Mrs. Newsome gave me when I registered on Monday. It is a supplement to our Biology textbook. The syllabus said to read the introduction and Chapter One before school starts.”
“What is the name of the book?” Mom asked.
“Why Evolution is True.”
Mom just stared at me, not saying a word.
Mom and I spent the rest of the day running errands for school, with Rachel joining us after Mom and I returned from Nina’s. It seems Rachel was completely out of clothes, or at least, the right type of clothes. Mom indulged her most every desire. Mom whispering to me that Rachel doesn’t know what she is getting into by starting middle school. I told her I agreed. I sure hope starting high school isn’t as hard as my first few weeks in the sixth grade.
We arrived home at 4:00 and could smell the roast beef Mom had been slow-cooking all day in one crock pot along with pinto beans in another. She had promised Dad last Sunday that she would serve him his favorite meal on Thursday evening: roast beef, pintos cooked with jalapenos and onions, cornbread, mayonnaise-based cabbage slaw, and peach cobbler for dessert. He said this was what his mother would cook on special occasions when he was growing up.
I helped Mom finish up. She gave me my first lesson in how to cook cornbread. Normally, Mom had rather cook by herself, but she acted rather clingy towards me all day, especially after we met Mrs. Ayers.
Dad was 15 minutes early getting home. Totally unusual. But, not surprising. He never forgets his favorite meal.
Dad truly enjoyed his meal, going back for seconds, twice. I do a good job making Dad believe that I love each dish as much as he does. Rachel and Jacob are not so deceptive. Mom eats slowly, with small bites, always saying she is saving room for dessert.
After dessert, and right as Rachel and Jacob both had mystery calls to make, Mom dropped the bombshell.
“It looks like we are in for an interesting school year.” “How so?” Dad said.
“Ruthie and I met the new Biology teacher today when we were picking up art supplies at Nina’s. Seems like a very nice lady. Seems like she is going to make her students think about a lot of stuff. Things like evolution.” Mom said.
“Evolution? Why? How do you know this? Evolution is just a theory.” Dad said.
“Dr. Ayers is her name. She has chosen a book to supplement the standard Biology textbook. Ruthie was given her copy when she registered Monday. And, she has to read the Introduction and Chapter One before school starts.” Mom said.
“What is the name of the book?” Dad asked.
“Why Evolution is True.” Mom said.
“Ruthie, please go get me your book.” Dad said.
I went to my bedroom and picked up the book from my night stand and returned to the kitchen handing it to Dad. He continued to sit, looking at the book, front and back, inside, reading or scanning the first few pages. The Introduction I suppose.
“Well, someone doesn’t have to read much, just the first paragraph of the Introduction, to know where this is going. Listen to this: ‘Evolution unites us with every living thing on Earth today and with myriads of creatures long dead. Evolution gives us the true account of our origins, replacing the myths that satisfied us for thousands of years.
Some find this deeply frightening, others ineffably thrilling.’
We believe that Genesis Chapter 1 tells us the true account of our origins. And, Christianity is not a myth. Evolution is just a theory. One which I know very little about. I just know that it is totally opposite of what we believe. We didn’t come from monkeys. God created us. Where is this Mrs. Ayers from anyway?” Dad said.
“Chicago, she said her husband was transferred here. He works at Progress Rail.” Mom said.
“Ruthie, see what you can find on Google.” Dad said.
I went again to my bedroom and grabbed my laptop. I returned to the kitchen while it was booting up.
I kind of zoned out from Mom and Dad’s voices as I did my searches.
“Here it says Mr. Travis Ayers has joined Progress Rail Services in Boaz, that he has worked for CAT in Chicago for 15 years, that he is married to Emily Ayers, a former professor at the University of Chicago, and they have one daughter, Ellen.” I read.
“Here is a post on the University of Chicago’s website about Mrs. Ayers. Apparently, she was a widely known and published evolutionary biologist. Says they are going to miss her and wish her the best as she moves to Boaz, Alabama with her family.”
“Well, that is pretty clear what she believes. She is an evolution apologist. But, how can it be legal in Alabama to teach evolution in public school.” Dad said.
“I actually remember seeing the headlines of an article a couple of months ago about the Alabama Department of Education changing its Science Standards. Ruthie, Google that if you will.” Mom said.
“Here it is. I’ll read the first part: ‘Alabama is updating its decade old Science Standards to require that students understand evolution and learn about climate change, topics that can still be controversial in the Bible Belt state. Educators say the new rules — part of a major change that includes more experimentation and hands-on instruction and less lecturing — doesn’t require that students believe in evolution or accept the idea that climate is changing globally.’”
“I guess that explains it. The City School Board wants to be progressive and submissive. You can bet your bottom dollar Mrs. Ayers will make sure students do, truly do, believe in evolution.” Dad said.
“Honey, let’s go for a walk and get some fresh air.” Mom said.
“I’ll clean up the kitchen.” I offered.
“Thanks, dear. We love you.” Mom said.
The Pencil Driven Life 