What Would Emma Do? (23 page)

“You need to put this race behind you. You’ve got the hundred meters in about ten minutes, so keep walking around, make sure you don’t stiffen up. Get some water into you too. I want you hydrated.”

“Hurdles are always my best race.” I didn’t say the rest, but I was thinking it. If I couldn’t win in hurdles, what were my odds in the other events?

“You mean, hurdles have always been your best. You’ve got another race in ten minutes. Today you might discover the hundred meters is your best. No looking back.” Coach Attley looked around. “Okay, I’ve got to go check on Simpson. She’s up next on pole vault. Pull yourself together. I’ll be right back.” Coach Attley gave me another whack and jogged off. Any more of these reassuring whacks and I was going to end up bruised.

As I walked along the inner ring, I tried to figure out what went wrong. I never snag on the hurdles. Never. Up ahead I saw the girl who came in first. Her teammates were giving her high fives. Her hair was braided, with small white beads on the ends. They clicked and swayed together. I waited until her teammates left and walked over.

“Good race,” I said.

“You too,” she said with a smile.

“Right until I wiped out.” I held out my bloody hands.

“Doesn’t matter that you fell, it matters that you got up.”

She gave me a smile and jogged off. I stood watching her for a second. I looked up in the stands, and my mom gave me a thumbs-up. Track wasn’t her sport. It’s possible she thought you were supposed to fall over. I shot her a thumbs-up back and made my way over to the other track while I drank water and tried to forget what had happened and the fact that the community college most likely didn’t even have a track team.

The hundred meters is always a big event, and at a regional meet like this, the best runners always turn out for it. I wasn’t surprised to see the girl who beat me in hurdles a few lanes over. We gave each other a nod as we lined up. My brain was racing, but when the pistol went off it was instantly blank. My vision narrowed, and I didn’t so much run as I flew to the finish line. When I crossed the line, I knew I’d won it.

The first voice I heard clearly was my mom’s, the second was Attley’s, and then the rest of my team. I stopped and the team surrounded me.

“Looks like the hundred meters is your race after all, Proctor,” Attley said, giving me another one of his back-snapping whacks. “There are some people who want to meet you.”

Attley clamped his hand on my shoulder and led me over to the sidelines. A man and a woman stood there. He was holding a clipboard. They had to be the scouts. I rubbed my nose quickly and tried to stand straighter.

“Congratulations on the win,” the woman said.

“Emma, these folks are from Northwestern.”

“Go Wildcats!” I said, and they both smiled.

“We understand you’re interested in our track program?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We heard from admissions that you’ve been accepted to the university. Have you made a decision yet about whether you’ll be joining us?”

“I’d love to, but it’s going to come down to finances.”

“Well, you keep running like this and maybe we can help you out with some of that.”

I felt my mouth split into a huge smile. Was this it? Would they tell me if I had a full ride right now?

“She’s my best,” Attley said, standing proudly next to me. “She’s got the drive and focus. I think you folks would be real lucky to get her.”

“We’ll be sending out scholarship letters in the next couple of weeks, along with the financial aid packages. We keep seeing times likes these in your next couple of meets and I think we’ll send you a letter that means you’ll be wearing purple next year.”

I managed to wait until they walked away, but then I gave a yell. Attley even hugged me, which never happens. I searched the crowd and found my mom. I gave Attley a pleading look. We weren’t allowed to leave the track oval during meets. Coach Attley was a big believer in either sticking together as a team or sitting in the stands with your friends. He didn’t think people should do both.

“Aw, go on, go tell her,” Attley said, still grinning something fierce.

My mom met me in the stairwell leading into the bleachers. She looked like she might cry. She held up the letter from Northwestern that I had left on the kitchen table that morning.

“Look at you,” she said, giving me a hug. “You worked for this and you’ve earned it. I’m so proud of you, Emma.”

I held on to her and tried not to think about Todd or the rest of them. It was a clear-cut, every-man-for-himself kind of situation. I
had
worked for this. I earned it on my own. I’d tried to tell my mom about the Barn and she hadn’t believed me, I’d tried to convince Colin and he didn’t want to be involved, everyone was blaming everyone else, Joann wasn’t even really my friend anymore, and Todd wasn’t willing to fix the problem any way except his way. I had done the best I could. I didn’t owe anyone anything. Wishing everything could have worked out would be like wishing Tinkerbell would come and take you away from all your problems. A nice idea, but not reality. Still, I’d thought winning would feel better than it did.

It seems some prayers are answered, but you don’t get to choose which ones.

34

God, I’m thinking you might be more popular if some of the people who spoke for you weren’t so, well, annoying. On the other hand, at least you have people who want to be your friends, which is more than I can say for myself.

I considered skipping Reverend Teaks’s amazing Faith Forward road show, but it felt like a required activity in some way, or maybe more like a dare. Either way, I was going. I did indulge in several fantasies on how I wanted the show to go, however.

• Reverend Teaks would lay his hands on someone in the crowd to heal them and they would keel over with a heart attack instead.
  
• Reverend Teaks would swear to be saying what God wanted, or may God strike him dead, and then a bolt of lightning would shoot out of the sky and take him out.
  
• A convenient plague of locusts would swarm over the tent (or frogs, or any other icky creepy-crawly creature) and cover it completely.
  
• Through some freak technical difficulty, the live feed would cross with the porn channel and pump that into millions of American homes instead.
  
• 60 Minutes
  or Dateline would show up with an exposé proving that Reverend Teaks was some kind of secret sexual pervert who molested dogs or maybe cross-dressing dwarves.
  

Outside the tent, people were milling about, and the scene had the feel of a rock concert. The TV crews were set up on the side, and reporters were interviewing people from the town. I could see the owner of Sheer Beauty doing her best to comment on the rise of teen violence, which was impressive after her years of inhaling perm solution, which had made stringing sentences together a challenge for her. A few of the kids from school were pushing and shoving to have their moment on camera and share how they survived the horror. I slipped past all of them and went in. The tent was almost full. It looked like a few people had come first thing that morning to nab the seats right at the front. The audience was mostly in rows of folding chairs, but in the very back were a few rows of bleachers. I slipped into a back row, scooting past a few people to take a seat on the aluminum bench.

If you looked at the stage, you would never imagine it was in a field in Middle of Nowhere, Indiana. The stage platform was covered in a dark blue carpet, and behind it were yards of drapes in a lighter, shimmery blue. On the side they had cordoned off an area for the choir, and across from them were the cameras. The choir was jostling for position, and I immediately spotted Darci. She had gone all out for the occasion. She had done her hair in a style that might best be described as “huge.” Her hair had to be as tall as a toddler. She must have backcombed and used a case of hair spray.

A few of the girls from school, including Joann, walked up to the choir to wish them luck. Joann looked nice. I could tell she’d curled her hair. She was wearing a corsage, just like Darci and Kimberly, the only acknowledgment of their special status as spring dance royalty. I thought of trying to flag her down, but before I could even raise my hand all the way, I tucked it back in my lap. She wasn’t going to sit with me. I fingered the track medal I had brought with me, flipping it back and forth in my hand. I had my win, and Joann was going to have hers. She deserved to be royalty; it suited her. I was sure that tonight she’d be crowned queen, too. It didn’t matter if I thought the whole thing was stupid, what mattered was that she was my friend and it was important to her. I saw Darci start gesturing madly as if a crisis were at hand, and Joann reached for her purse. Whatever Darci needed, Joann would have it. Safety pins, asprin, Band-Aids, small snacks, possibly an outline from the UN on how to negotiate peace. Joann is that kind of person, always prepared. Darci took the purse from her, fished around in it, and pulled out a tube of lip gloss. When she handed back the purse, she made such a big deal out of it you would think Joann had lent her a kidney instead of a lip balm.

Suddenly the organ music started, and everyone hustled to get to their seats. A bank of hot lights behind us clicked on for the cameras. I could feel them giving off heat already. I was going to end up with a tan by the time the show was over.

Reverends Evers and Teaks came out on the stage, and the crowd burst into applause that nearly drowned out the organ. Reverend Teaks motioned for quiet, while keeping his best side to the camera. Behind the cameras was a fellow wearing a headset and holding up a giant sign that said APPLAUSE.

“Now, now, no need to glorify me, we come here today to glorify God!” Teaks roared out.

It was hard to tell if it was his inspirational words or the fact that the guy holding the applause sign was now basically jumping up and down in the universal sign language for “kick it up a notch,” but the crowd roared its approval. Teaks held his arms open wide as if he was bathing in the adulation. He looked a bit orange, and there was a thin line under his chin where the makeup hadn’t been blended in. Reverend Evers looked pale and pasty next to him. I suspected that on TV, Teaks would look great and Evers would end up looking like Voldemort’s pasty younger brother.

“We come to you today live from Wheaton, Indiana. The heartland of America. And it
is
the heartland. As I’ve been among these people I have felt the beat, beat, beat, beating of their hearts, but instead of pumping blood, what they pump is faith. This town is doing its best to spread the faith they have to our entire nation. We came here because we can learn from the good folks in Wheaton. This isn’t a town that worships Hollywood or rock stars. No, sir, this is a town that worships the only one true God. They are soldiers in God’s army. They are not afraid to stand and fight for him. No, this is a town that puts its faith front and center. They put their Faith Forward!”

The crowd gave another cheer, and the producer gave a signal and the choir broke into their first song. They apparently were trying out some choreography. They sort of swayed right two beats, then left, then a quick clap in the center. It wasn’t exactly a move that was going to catapult anyone to the top of
So You Think You Can Dance
. Despite this, one of the choir members was having trouble. She went right when everyone else was going left. At one point she bumped into Darci, who nearly pushed her to the ground. I had the feeling that anyone who got in the way of Darci’s camera angle today was going to pay big-time.

“I’m about to tell you a story, but it’s not a Bible story. It’s not a bedtime story. No! This story may scare some; it’s a story of how Satan can find his way anywhere. He slinks in on the TV and in the records. He hides behind the idea of being politically correct. He whispers in our ears that maybe some things are okay. That it’s okay to have sex outside of marriage, that maybe it is okay to challenge what it means to be a family. He sneaks into the hearts of those who are too weak to fight him. And what gives people strength?”

The producer held up another sign off camera. This one said JESUS in giant black letters.

“JESUS!” the crowd yelled out. Say what you will about Wheaton, we sure could read.

“That’s right! Jesus gives people strength, but there were people in this town who didn’t worship our Lord. Oh no. They were not part of the heartland, for their hearts were black. A nation relies on its children as the future, and there were those here who wanted to cut down our future. Can we stand for this?”

The producer held up another sign, this one with the word NO. I think he really needed to give us a bit more credit. We could have worked that one out without the flash card.

“We live in dark times. Times when our children threaten one another. When even our schools are not safe, not safe from the inside. Here in Wheaton there were those who would harm their fellow students, who planned to bring down their school, and do you know what saved them? Was it luck?”

“No!” the crowd shouted out, due in part, no doubt, to the helpful signage.

“Was it the law that saved them?”

“No!”

“Was it coincidence?”

“No!”

“Was it logic or fancy
CSI
kinds of science?”

“No!”

“That’s right. It was faith. It was faith that kept our children safe. It was faith that ferreted out the sinners. It was faith that purged this community clean and it will be faith that will take this community forward!”

I glanced around the tent. Joann and Colin were sitting together and if I had to guess, they were holding hands, but I couldn’t tell from here. Both of their families were there too, sitting just a few rows back. It seemed like almost all of Wheaton was in the tent. None of the kids who had been blamed were here, or their families, which was probably for the best. It looked like the crowd could rile themselves up into a proper witch burning. Anything to keep things pure. I shifted in my seat. I wasn’t sure how any of the accused were going to be able to come back to TES or even deal with living here. Normally I would consider being banned from Wheaton a good thing, but I knew some of them would want to stay.