HEAVY METAL MIRACLES

PART 2

CHAPTER 4

DREW

DELIVER THOSE WHO ARE DRAWN TOWARD DEATH, AND HOLD BACK THOSE STUMBLING TO THE SLAUGHTER (Proverbs 24:11)

            “How do you know Ben was the last to see this girl?” I asked Nancy.

            “Multiple people told the police when they briefly looked into it,” she explained.  “Even her best friend said the last time she saw her was when she was leaving a frat party with Ben.”

            “Her who, what’s this girl’s name?”

            “Channel Northrup, nineteen years old.”

            “If you really think she’s out here, we should get a dog.”

            “That’s a good idea! Does your mom still have dogs?”

            “A couple rug rats. They’re not exactly blood hounds, more like pampered lap dogs.”

            “Let’s look around. We’ll worry about getting a dog out here later.”

            I liked that she said we. Just like old times, Nancy and Drew sleuthing together. Only this time it wasn’t stolen lunch money, and we weren’t exactly kids any more. So we began a sweep of the spooky half of the woods. As we walked ten feet apart, we talked and got caught up on each other’s lives.

            For me there wasn’t much to tell. So I started off with asking the most curious thing about my old, young friend. “Is that an engagement ring on your left hand?”

            She held it out and looked at it briefly before replying, “Promise ring.”

            “Who’s the lucky guy?”

            “What makes you think it’s from a guy?” she asked, glancing at me with a challenging smirk.

            I had tried to explain back when she began to pull away from our friendship, that just because I lived my life by Biblical standards didn’t mean I looked down on people that didn’t. Only God knows the heart, I tried to reiterate that over and over, but to no avail. Only God is the judge, and only He has the ability to know who is following the light that they have.

            I shrugged. “Okay, who’s the lucky girl?”

            “It is from a guy,” she said, looking at it again as if it puzzled her.

            “You must be pretty serious then?”

            Now she made a face as if she bit into something sour. “I don’t know. We were just friends for most of the school year. I’m mostly asexual, so I wanted us to just stay friends. But a few weeks ago we both had been drinking at a party and ended up kissing. Rather passionately, actually. But I still had enough wits about myself to refrain from getting too touchy feely.”

            The irony about Nancy’s and my friendship dissolving was the older we got, the more I fancied her. I had hoped she felt the same, but then she began to pull away. It must have been the asexual thing. Plus we both seemed to want to convert each other to our opposing world views.

            I tried not to feel jealous thinking about her kissing a guy passionately, especially the not getting TOO touchy feely part. Just how much was the TOO? And what did MOSTLY asexual mean anyway? When she continued, it only intensified my battle with the green eyed monster.

            “After I told him I wasn’t comfortable having sex without a commitment, I thought that would get him to back off. Instead he gave me this ring. So I thought, okay, he’s really sweet, really into me, decent enough looking, why not give him what he wants, so I accepted it.”

            I almost threw up in my mouth. The odd thing is I already assumed that she was no longer chaste. For a tomboy, Nancy was rather feminine in tough sort of way, if that makes sense. Plus she was kind of cute, and I liked that she was a jeans and t-shirt type of girl with no frills or gaudy makeup, with her short red gold hair often looking windblown.

            “So, we kind of had an unspoken agreement that this would be the weekend,” she continued, with a strangely pained looking expression on her face, and twirling the ring nervously round and round her finger. She whispered, even though we were very much alone, “That we would, you know, have sex.”

            She opened the door for me to extract some information discreetly. “So you had planned on losing your virginity this weekend, but this missing girl thing came up instead?”

            “Exactly!” She beamed.

            I felt like I had just given the green eyed monster a solid right hook that staggered him. The only girl I ever had a major crush on thus far in my life was still chaste! For the time being anyway. The fantasy was still alive! Yet at the bottom of my heart, I knew I didn’t want to be yoked with someone that wasn’t of faith like mine. Yet there was no young lady in my church that tripped my trigger. So I had been mentally preparing for what the Apostle Paul advised in in 1 Corinthians 7:7-9.

            She stopped walking, so did I. She faced me from ten feet apart, so I faced her. She said, “I thought looking into this mystery was a convenient excuse to postpone, you know, consummating with Diego.”

            A few birds began squabbling in the dank woods about twenty feet away, causing us to look. It was as if the green eyed monster leapt up and charged at me again. She was only postponing sex with her would be Latin lover. But the old green eyed fellow didn’t see a left hook coming.

            “But running into you here,” she said as she stepped toward me with a look of awe in her  emerald eyes. “It seems like a sign.”

            “What kind of sign?” I asked, both hopeful and hesitant.

            Her look of awe turned into consternation. She did a one eighty, walked briskly to fallen log and sat. She continued to turn the ring as if trying to unscrew it from her finger. But apparently in wouldn’t come off. Would that monster not stay down? I slowly walked over and sat a few feet away from her on the log.

            I tried again. “What did you mean by a sign?”

            “You’re the only guy I ever truly desired,” she said quietly.

            “What’d you say?” I asked, not quite sure I heard her right. I thought it might have finally been a knockout blow for the monster. Until she barked, “You heard me!”

            “Well, you’re the only girl I have ever desired,” I told her.

            “Could have fooled me,” she quipped as she stood and walked several paces, then abruptly crossing her arms.

            I walked to her, and wondered what I should do. Rub her back? Hug her? Instead I jammed my hands into my jean pockets, looked at her out of the corners of my eyes, and asked cautiously. “What do you mean by could have fooled you?”

            She smiled sadly at me. Then she gently said, with fondness in her voice, “Remember the last few months we hung out? I wanted you kiss me so badly, but you just wouldn’t take the hint.”

            I frowned. What hint? “The last few months we hung out, you seemed to frequently try to engage us in arguments. I felt like you were pulling away, which you were. So what kind of hint wasn’t I getting?”

            She put a hand on her forehead, covering her eyes as if embarrassed. “Do you not remember swapping gum?”

            “Of course I do, it was the biggest thrill I ever had in our time together!”

            It happened about a half a dozen times, seven to be exact. Nancy would try a new flavor of gum, not like it, and ask me to trade with her. Not out of the pack mind you, but the gum we were currently chewing. Her excuse was not being wasteful.

            Now I was strictly a peppermint Trident man when it came to chew. But I didn’t hesitate to take on a foreign flavor if it meant trading spit with the girl of my dreams.

            She removed her hand from her eyes. “Really! It was?”

            “You bet! As a matter of fact, you’re the only girl I have ever kissed.”

            She giggled. “We never actually kissed. We just swapped gum. Kissing entails contact.”

            “Well, to me it was like kissing.”

            “So how come you never tried for the real thing then?”

            “I wanted to,” I confessed. “Oh did I ever want to. But something always told me to keep my distance… So that gum thing was a hint?”

            “Ya think? Asking to swap with me once would be one thing, Twice a coincidence. But a half dozen times with ABC gum was a major hint. I mean would you swap ABC gum with Jerry even once?”

            She was referring to my brother. “No way!”

            “See, and I asked you a half dozen times!”

            “Actually it was seven to be exact,” I told her with a coy smile.

            She smiled warmly. “Yes, seven. Grape, banana, strawberry, tropical, wintergreen, bubble gum that tasted like cardboard, and spearmint.”

            “I did think it a little odd that you didn’t just buy peppermint Trident since you seemed to like mine. But I enjoyed your sampling of different flavors, and was glad you didn’t.”

            We looked at each other for a long moment. She licked her lips. Did she want me to kiss her now? I remained frozen, not knowing what to do. With wide eyes she asked, “Why did you feel like keeping your distance from me?”

            As a kid you often avoid difficult, emotional stuff. Which I did. But as an adult, for I was a month from eighteen, healthy communication is good for a relationship. Even if it is only as friends. “I always detected something very broken in you, so I treaded carefully.”

            Her eyes welled, and she nodded. “You’re wise beyond your years, and I was a fool. I did have something very traumatic in my life before mom and I moved here.”

            I remember Nancy showing up around the third grade. My first impressions of her were quiet, pensive, sullen, but cute. “Do you want to talk about it?”

            She shook her head emphatically. “No.”

            “Okay,” I smiled.

            She now began to twist that ring so vigorously that I was concerned it would draw blood. “It’s so odd. That last year we hung out. I so badly wanted you to hug me by times, hold my hand, kiss me. Yet just as often I wanted you to keep your distance, hands off. Talk about a walking contradiction. Then I treated you like my psychological hang ups were your fault, or your God’s fault. I’m surprised you put up with me. You should have been the one to tell me to pound sand, not the other way around.”

            She looked hard at me. I couldn’t say anything until she prodded it out of me. “Why?”

            “Because I love you.”

            “You mean loved, as in past tense?”

            “No, love, as in always.”

            “You mean as friends?” she asked and then bit her thumb, gazing at me with anguished eyes.

            “What else?” I shrugged. Then I smiled. “After all, swapping gum isn’t a real kiss.”

            She took several quick steps toward me, placed both hands on the sides of my cheeks and pressed her mouth hard against mine. After five to ten seconds she pulled away and looked puzzled. “You didn’t kiss me back.”

            I took hold of her left hand and lifted it up as if to kiss the back of it. “You’re promised to someone else.”

            After all that twisting, she yanked it off in a second and tossed it behind her shoulder. Our searching of the woods had brought us by the old cemetery. The ring made a tink as it ricocheted off a tombstone. This time I kissed her back.

            After a few minutes, it was getting pretty steamy, so I gently eased away. But Nancy kept her arms hooked around my neck and whispered. “Let’s make love. I want you to be my first.”

            Her first? “I want you to be my only. But only after marriage.”

            She smiled and gave me a soft kiss. “Drew, it’s the twenty first century.”

            “Biblical morality is timeless. Besides, what happened to you being asexual? You want me to be the first of how many?”

            Her arms dropped to her sides, and she shook her head. “First is a figure of speech, and I said mostly asexual. As in you’re an exception.”

            “An exception, or the exception?”

            “Obviously I planned on sleeping with Diego. So how can I say you’re the only exception? But it’s only you two.”

            Those who wrote songs about love hurting sure got it right. Especially when you fall for someone with a different value system. She looked toward the area where she threw her ring. “I better find that ring. I’ll need to give it back to Diego.”

            Oh the yins and yangs of life! First I’m fighting off jealousy over Diego. Then I started panicking over her breaking up with him, seemingly to be with me. Sure I found her attractive, but ultimately I needed to be with someone of like beliefs. Can two walk together, unless they are agreed? (Amos 3:3).

            I helped her scan the cemetery for her ring. We were moving sticks and branches out of the way with our feet, when I noticed something out of the ordinary. At a spot in between two tombstones, the earth beneath the leaf and stick debris was different. It wasn’t quite as hard packed as the rest of the graveyard. And it had been double digit decades since someone had been buried out here. Or had it?

            “Nancy?” I said a little breathlessly.

            “Drew?”

            “Check this out.”

            She observed my observation. Then we both looked at each other, and at the same time said, “Let’s get shovels.”