HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

CHAPTER 13

ELI

THEREFORE, LAYING ASIDE ALL MALICE, ALL DECEIT, HYPOCRISY, ENVY, AND ALL EVIL SPEAKING… INDEED YOU HAVE TASTED THAT THE LORD IS GRACIOUS (1 Peter 2:1, 3)

            “Hi Eli,” Ariel said a little breathlessly as she entered the church basement. She unzipped her puffy, shiny white winter coat revealing a low cut top that my eyes lingered on a second too long before they met hers. There seemed to be a twinkle of satisfaction in her windows to the soul before becoming serious.

            “You’ve got to talk Arlo out of it,” Ariel insisted, her large brown eyes pleading. It was about a half an hour before our band was to practice. She pulled her long brown hair back into a ponytail, her movements causing her chest to stick out even further. But her words caused me to tense rather than lust.

            For some reason I thought she was talking about suicide. But that couldn’t be. I had breakfast with him earlier in the day, and he had apologized profusely for shutting himself away in his room for a few days. He seemed mellow, even happy, yet I could tell he had been preoccupied. He also seemed on the verge of telling me something, but Mrs. Mendelbright kept lingering around the table.

            “Talk him out of what, quitting the band?” I asked, not knowing what else it could be.

            “He’s quitting the band?”

            “No, I mean I don’t know. I was just throwing up a guess since I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “Oh,” she replied, her lovely eyes getting even larger. “So he didn’t tell you then?”

            “Tell me what?”

            “Oh, never mind. I thought you knew.”

            “Knew what?”

            “Tick a lock,” she said, and then made a locking motion at her lips. “It’s not for me to tell, like I said, I thought you knew. I’m gonna run a quick errand.”

            She turned and began to walk briskly away. We were in her family’s church, and our band’s equipment was in the basement where we practiced. It had been two weeks since our reverse hug in the parking lot, which was also when we saw Penny and Arlo share a quick kiss followed by an embrace. In the days after, things between Ariel and me had become both more relaxed, yet strangely awkward because of sexual tension not acted upon.

            I grabbed her around the waist, and we fell onto a sofa that was situated in a corner of the basement. It was our first physical contact since the parking lot incident. “Oh no, you’re not.”

            She giggled and squirmed. Our heads knocked together, but it didn’t hurt much. Then as we wrestled in a sitting position, our cheeks ended up pressed together. I think we both somehow did this on purpose. Then we looked at each other and I kissed her. Then she kissed me. Then we kissed each other as we heard a door open. I abruptly stood and she tumbled onto the floor. I helped her up and said, “Sorry.”

            Ethan, Amy and Crystal came down the stairs. When Crystal spotted us, she ran to Ariel and shouted, “Gammy!”

            I sat back on the couch and asked our granddaughter, “Does Poppop get a hug?”

            She shyly shook her head, making her blonde curls jiggle. I sniffed, made fists and rubbed my eyes as if I was crying. Then she said, “okay,” and flew into my arms.

            “What were you two doing?” Ethan asked.

            Ariel and I glanced guiltily at each other as if we were a couple teenagers and our son was one of our parents. Ariel and I spoke at the same time. She said, “talking,” and I said “nothing.”

            “I thought I saw you helping Mom up off of the floor,” Ethan said.

            I didn’t know what to say. Ariel and I looked at each other. Neither of us wanted to lie, but how could we say why? Thankfully he shrugged and said, “Oh well, nevermind.”

            Sometimes playing dumb really does work.

            As our band practiced, I kept eyeing Arlo all evening. He seemed normal, maybe even a little more lighthearted than usual. So what could be so bad that Ariel wanted me to talk him out of? He and I were the last to leave band practice, and as I contemplated how or what to ask him, he solved the dilemma for me.

            “I asked Penny to marry me,” Arlo said with a sly grin as my mouth dropped open.

            Although I was in fact stunned, I calmly joked. “Well that must have been some kind of hug you two had the other week.”

            “Oh, if you only knew.”

            “So when’s the big day?”

            “She hasn’t said yes yet.”

            “But you think she will?”

            “I do.”

            “That’s what you’re hoping she’ll say one day soon.”

            He eyed me cautiously, and I soon understood why. “Penny’s pregnant.”

            Because of his religious zeal over the last couple years, it didn’t occur to me that Arlo might be the father. I knew that Penny had had a series of flings throughout her thirty eight years, but no serious relationships. I also knew that the recent funk that Arlo had been in had something to do with a child. However, I thought it had something to do with his ex-wife.

            So in the spur of the moment, I put one, plus two, plus three together. But instead of coming up with six, it turned out to be another equation. One, Arlo had been upset over a pregnancy or child. Two, Penny was pregnant, and Arlo was in love with her, and debating whether or not to raise another man’s child. Three, he asked Penny to marry him, therefore deciding to raise a child that wasn’t spawned by him.

            “That’s a very honorable thing to want to do, Arlo,” I told him. “I know if Ariel and I had reacquainted before she married her last husband, I would have gladly raised her daughters as their stepdad.”

            Arlo frowned and responded simply with, “Huh?”

            He was puzzled on a couple of fronts. Turns out I divulged too much information about my feelings for Ariel. Secondly, I discovered that Arlo was in fact the one that impregnated Penny. But how?

            Don’t misunderstand, I know the birds and the bees. I meant with the religious devotion he had been trying to witness to me over the last couple of years, how did he come to impregnate Penny out of wedlock? To him, this was sin. It became a bit of a stumbling block to me as I tried to become a follower of Jesus, rather than just an admirer. I was making the mistake of watching Arlo, and my son for an example, rather than Jesus. I was even looking to Ariel, the woman I found myself lusting after. But if you look to any person other than Christ as an example, you’re bound to be disappointed.

            “Oh,” Arlo gazed at me with regretful eyes. “You see… what happened… um.”

            Realization dawned on me. “So, Penny has a bun in the oven, but you are the one, shall we say, that provided the yeast?”

            He winced, nodded, took off his baseball cap that he was wearing backward, ran his hands through his long blonde hair, and then winced some more. “Are you disappointed?”

            “Yeah I’m disappointed,” I replied evenly. “You come across like the Apostle Paul, often making me feel like a degenerate because I don’t have your passion, zeal, and devotion. Then you not only fornicate but are fathering an illegitimate child.”

            A look flashed onto Arlo’s face that I hadn’t seen since we were on stage together in ‘The Sons of Molech.’ It was a glimpse of the sneer and growl he used to display at our audience, only without the gothic makeup. “Yeah, well I guess you’d know something about fathering illegitimate children.”

            I shrugged, “Yes, I would.”

            He shook his head in disgust, then put his face in his hands, sat in a metal folding chair and began to weep. “I’m sorry, Eli, I truly am. I sinned with Penny. I even wanted to last night. I already loved her, but making a child together… I feel a bond with her I never felt with anyone before. Yes I sinned. But just like 1 John 2:1 tells us. If anyone sins we have an Advocate in Jesus.”

            I crouched by him and patted his knee. “It’s cool, Arlo.”

            He looked at me with bleary eyes. “If you drop the soap, you don’t stop taking a shower.”

            “Huh?” I inquired, feeling myself edge a little away from him.

            He continued, telling me how he went to a pastor in his distress, and was counseled through an analogy of taking a shower. If you drop the soap, it doesn’t mean the shower’s over. You pick it up and continue getting clean. Therefore, if you sin, you ask for forgiveness, repent, and continue to get spiritually clean.

            It did strike a chord with me. I was getting close to becoming a follower of Christ, rather than an admirer. I had bonded with my son, who was deeply spiritual. He was also being influenced by Arlo, and becoming a student of the whole Bible, as well as history. There was also a bond being formed with my son’s mother that was both different and similar to the one we had as teenagers.

            When we were young, I used to think of Ariel as pretty and prude. It was how wholesome and untouchable she seemed that made her all the more desirable. Now there was a similar, yet different atmosphere about her. When we were young, long conservative skirts seemed to be her uniform. Now it was form fitting leggings and tight tops. But that was then, and this was now. One style was decided by her mother, while the other was by herself.

            I’ve never met a woman I was more attracted to than Ariel. And I’ve met plenty. Maybe a large aspect was her seeming untouchable. As a rock star, I had a bevy of attractive women throwing themselves at me. Why do we humans so often want that which is forbidden? When we were young, it was her virginal wholesomeness that kept her from me for a long time. Now it was her recent widowhood, coupled with her skepticism of me when I first arrived.

            Out in the church parking lot, I watched Arlo’s taillights disappear as I put some things onto the passenger seat of my pickup truck. Right as I turned and shut the door, a body loomed with a voice that said, “You’re just now leaving?”

            Startled, maybe even frightened, I reeled back and slammed the side of my head into the door of my truck. As I winced and rubbed my noggin, the female voice gasped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean scare you, Eli.”

            “I wasn’t scared, little lady,” I replied with a mockingly macho voice. “I was just making sure my door was shut with my head.”

            She laughed but then looked a little uneasy. “I was doing some things in the church office when I noticed you and Arlo leaving… So did you?”

            “Find out about Penny being pregnant and the marriage proposal?”

            “Okay, good, so did you talk some sense into him?” She asked as she casually unzipped her puffy coat halfway down again. Why were we outside? She had to be purposely enticing me. It was painful, but I kept my eyes glued to hers.

            “I don’t think that’s my business, Ariel. Besides, she only said maybe, not yes.”

            “Maybe with Penny or me might as well be yes when it comes to guys.”

            “Why are you so against Penny marrying Arlo? He’s a good man, and well to do.”

            “Because Penny isn’t the relationship type, and they’ve only know each other for like two minutes.”

            “They’ve known each other long enough and well enough to make a baby.”

            “That’s because Arlo’s a hypocrite.”

            “Why is he a hypocrite?”

            “Getting so exacting and legalistic with the Bible, and then he goes and fornicates.”

            “What about Penny? It takes two to tango. You all come from a religious family. She’s been a professed Christian a lot longer than Arlo.”

            She shrugged nonchalantly. “I love my sister, but she’s a hypocrite too.”

            “What about you?” I asked as I leaned into kiss her.

            Before I connected, she giggled and shoved me away. “I’m only a borderline hypocrite.”

            She turned and began to walk briskly away, her female form swaying in the moonlight. She called over her shoulder, “Goodnight.”

            In few quick steps I caught up to her, grasped her hand, and spun her around. “Let’s cross the border.”

            A minute later I pulled my mouth from hers. Grinning I said, “Hypocrite.”

            Smiling back, she abruptly zipped her coat up, spun on her heels, walked briskly away again and said over her shoulder, “Close, but not quite.”

            “Yet,” I said.

            She stopped, turned to face me, and with a flirtatious smile said, “Maybe.”

            Then for a third time, she spun and walked briskly away, disappearing into the night.