For Mare…

Beliefs

By Rachel Wilder

Kevin sat drumming his fingers against the edge of the steering wheel. The radio in the wagon had died the week before and the silence seemed oppressive.

"C'mon, Joan," he said into the silence of the car. It was almost seven o'clock. Joan should have been done with her doctor's appointment fifteen minutes earlier.

Kevin looked at his watch again and resisted the urge to honk. Before he would have parked the car and gone in there to find her, but it was too much of a hassle now and besides, he didn't want to…

The door opened and interrupted his train of thought as Joan heaved her backpack into the car on the seat between them.

"Can we stop for burgers on the way home?" she asked as she pulled her seatbelt down from the door and hooked it.

"Maybe if you'd gotten out here on time, but I have to get home. I have to do some revisions on a piece," Kevin answered. "Mom left something in the fridge for us."

"Dandy," Joan replied as Kevin put the car in gear and headed home.

"Chili?" Joan asked as she opened the door to the refrigerator. She pulled the container from the shelf and set it on the counter. "Doesn't Mom know what beans do to a girl?"

Kevin laughed. It was good to hear Joan teasing; it was almost like she was herself again after her Lyme disease experience.

"Fine, laugh all you want, but it can cause an accident…"

Kevin shook his head. "Yeah, I don't think you really have anything that awful to worry about…it's a fart, Joan. It's not like…well…there are worse things a bunch of beans can do to a person."

Joan shot him a look and then reached into the cupboard to get out two bowls. "Yeah, that doesn't really sound like polite conversation, Kev."

"Just the facts, ma'am…facts of my life, anyway," Kevin said, still laughing.

Joan turned and looked at him. "How can you…I mean why laugh about it?" Her eyes dropped from his face and she turned her focus on the silverware drawer.

"You want me to cry instead? Hide in my room? Cause I tried that and it didn't seem to be working. You know, things happen for a reason. I have to believe that, otherwise this all seems like some sort of cosmic screw up."

"But do you blame anyone…I mean like Andy…or God?"

"You mean someone besides myself? Someone other than the person who got into a car with a drunk driver?" Kevin asked. Her emotions were still so volatile, joking one minute and then upset the next. He wasn't sure how to react to her now.

Joan didn't answer. Kevin's attention returned to the paper he was editing. The silence began to grow uncomfortable. Finally, the buzzer on the microwave rang and Joan pulled the heated chili out. She poured servings into the bowls and carried them to the table. "Voila. Dinner is served."

Kevin looked up and smiled. "Smells great, Joan."

Joan put the bowls down and headed back for silverware and drinks. She handed a spoon to Kevin and sat down. Kevin's attention remained focused on his work as they both tried to ignore the earlier exchange.

Joan started to say something, then stopped.

Kevin looked over at her. "What?"

"Nothing," Joan answered.

"Seriously, what's going on?" her brother asked again.

"Nothing, I was just--I was just talking to hear my own voice, I do that sometimes, you know…maybe it's because Adam never responds or because Grace makes me nervous or," Joan rattled off.

Kevin looked at her and smiled. "Geez, Joan, lay off the Mountain Dew."

Joan took a bite of the steaming bowl of chili sitting in front of her. "Yeah, think before you speak. Always a good idea."

"It's not a big deal," Kevin replied. "And don't worry. You can ask me about that stuff. I mean, we never really talked about what happened other than that one time in therapy. If you want to know stuff, I think it's something I can talk about now."

Joan looked at him, thinking. She took another taste of chili, then began. "Do you believe in God--not God-God, like in church God, but God, like God as a person?"

A small frown crossed Kevin's face. "Back to that? Why is that important? Do I have to blame someone, myself, God? Can't things just happen?"

"No, seriously," Joan replied, setting down her spoon. "Like, what if God was a person and you could just talk to him, or her, or whatever, like we're talking now."

Kevin just stared at her, not answering.

"You don't have anything, anything at all that you'd like to know about? No questions. No 'why me?' Nothing at all?" Joan asked, her voice growing serious.

Kevin took a deep breath and thought for a moment. "Sure, but if it's not going to happen, why would I spend a lot of time thinking about what I might say?"

Joan locked her eyes on his. "What if it does…could…happen?"

Kevin pushed his bowl of chili aside. "Why would I want to talk to God? And why does this matter to you all of a sudden? Is it because of what happened? When you were sick?"

Joan's mouth closed and she looked away.

"What's this all about, Joan?" Kevin asked, his voice dropping. "Are you?" He looked at her, taking in the look on her face. "Shit, you're serious, aren't you?"

"Just forget about it," Joan responded.

"Joan…"

Joan shook her head. "I shouldn't have said anything. It's not like anyone's going to believe me anyway. I mean I'm 'delusional girl' and everything…" She pushed her chair back from the table, stood up and reached for her empty soup bowl.

Kevin grabbed her hand. "It's not that," he began. He stopped, and took a deep breath, the creases in his forehead deepening. "Jesus, Joan, who wants to talk about God?"

"So, you can talk about whatever deep personal issue you're having, but when I have something, something big, I need to just keep it to myself? Is it too shameful?" Joan asked, her voice cracking.

Kevin looked at her, disbelief in his eyes. "Why are you even bringing this up? Can't we leave well enough alone?"

Joan dropped his hand. "Like I said, never mind." She stepped away from the table and turned to leave. She stopped and turned back, tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. "You know, Kevin, it's not always about me having to help you. Sometimes maybe I need for you to listen to me. And maybe sometimes I can do something that might help you out."

"What's this all about, Joan?" Kevin asked as he leaned forward, his elbows on the table.

"It's…" She stopped and thought for a moment. "I don't know, maybe you don't need another burden."

"Burden?" Kevin asked. "Seriously, you've totally lost me here."

"God talks to me," Joan blurted out, before she could stop herself.

"Geez, Joan, we all talk to God," Kevin replied, exasperated.

Joan looked straight at him. "That's not what I said."

Kevin stared at her for a minute. "That's nuts, Joan. God doesn't talk to people. Is this some kind of Ouija Board? Cause it can't happen."

Joan stepped away from the table, further from Kevin. "I should have known you wouldn't believe me. Adam wouldn't."

"You told Adam?" Kevin asked.

Joan nodded. "In the hospital." She smiled and chuckled lightly through her tears. "I feared if anyone would believe me, he would. I mean, Adam, he's open to things that aren't…well…normal."

Kevin pushed back from the table and wheeled over to where she was standing. "And this…God…it wasn't…"

"It wasn't delusions," Joan interrupted.

"How do you know?" Kevin asked. "I mean, I saw some pretty weird stuff when I was on the morphine."

"You're allergic to morphine, Kevin. You were delusional," Joan pointed out.

Kevin nodded. "Point taken, but you had a disease known for making people see and think some pretty weird things."

Joan leaned back against the counter. "I don't know why I believe it, Kevin, but I do. It was real. They all were."

"All of them?"

"God rarely was the same person twice," Joan explained. "But Mom, she saw one of the gods, in her dream. She described him perfectly."

Kevin shook his head.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Joan said, quietly.

"You, Mom, who else?" Kevin asked.

Joan shrugged her shoulders.

Kevin leaned forward, his chin resting on his hand. He thought for a moment, then reached out for Joan's hand. "I don't know if I can really take this all in…"

Joan pulled hand away from him, but Kevin reached up and took it again, this time holding it more tightly in his grasp. He watched her, the quiet desperation in her face. He knew the pain of people not understanding, not believing the reality of your life. He hated to see her this way, so hurt and broken. He drew in a long breath and then let it out. "I don't know for me, but I believe you, Joan. I believe that you believe you're having a real experience."

Joan locked her eyes on his. "You do?"

Kevin nodded. "Yep. I do."

Joan leaned forward and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you, Kevin."

"You okay?" Kevin asked as Joan pulled back from their embrace.

Joan nodded. She stood, smiling at Kevin, the tears still glistening on her cheeks. After a moment, she reached up and brushed the wet from her skin. "I'm going to Grace's." She walked out of the kitchen, grabbing her coat off the hook by the door.

Kevin watched as she left the house, then released the brakes on his chair and carried his bowl over to the sink. God talked to her. It was the strangest thing he'd heard out of his sister's mouth yet. He shook his head. You had to love Joan, but sometimes the things that came out of her mouth…

But…

What if?

FIN