THE SACRAMENT
She wanted to be baptised. Die to her old self, and be reborn anew. I spared her my thoughts about 'mystical symbolism', because she talked about it as being real. I asked if she'd discussed this with her parents. She had not. When they found out her wishes, I fully expected perhaps another lethal late-night visit from her otherwise mild-mannered father. I pushed her, I really did, to consider what she was doing. I only stopped because I sensed I was doing that for myself, not for her. She was of age. It was her decision - although, of course, if her parents fundamentally objected, I would wait until Paige was 18.
Alice and I had been at dinner at the Jennings when Paige announced her intentions. She was one brave girl. Yet the 'side-eye' I got from Elizabeth was something even I 'got', Dale Woods notwithstanding. One look and I felt (in my bones) that Paige's mom was perhaps more dangerous than her dad. I know it sounds crazy. Rereading what I've just typed it seems that way. It wasn't.
At the beginning of 1983, Paige was baptised by my hand. The next month, I tried to kill two birds with one stone. I wanted to normalize my relationship with The Jennings, so for our upcoming mission trip to Kenya (bird #2), I went down to Dupont Circle Travel to see if Reed Street Church could get a deal on travel. Which we did. A good deal. And through it all, Philip Jennings was every mild-mannered, middling business guy who you ever met. Quite skilled as a travel agent, if I must say. Crazy making.
Even though Elizabeth had not been there - she'd also missed the previous as well as the next Sunday on what Philip had called a 'business trip' - Philip continued this confusing Dr Jekyll/Mr Hyde flip flop. I told myself to get over it - thinking about it, it had only been once, late at night mind you, when the man had been bone-chilling menacing. But it had been far, far more than an overprotective father. (Ok, stop it. You're getting into it again.) But that one time he looked like someone willing and able to do damage.
It was the next month that one layer of scales would fall from the Jennings' family-persona.
My oh my.
SENSE AND NO SENSE
Did I say, 'my oh my'? It had made so much sense. And yet it made no sense at all. None. I had once told Paige's father that she needed to be, "treated like an adult." That was by all measure a mistake on my part so many levels. To an ordinary family, where did I get off telling a father how to relate to his daughter? To them…. there was no telling how they'd react.
It was by the beginning of March that Paige seemed in more a state of shock, than even in her normal turmoil. Since the baptism talk in December she'd spent a lot of time at the church - save for the times when she said that her parents had been on more extended business trips when she had to see to Henry. She'd talked to me a number of times about how to approach her parents about her feelings - ones of profound abandonment, that ever since she'd been little she'd been afraid that she'd be alone and without parents. Or protection. They always evaded the question of why they had never been there. Sometimes so adroitly that it was only later she figured out they had. She feared that the world was a dangerous place and she would never be able to count on anyone.
Except in March she changed. Somewhat. Or profoundly. I didn't know. She was moody and broody. Even told Zach to "screw off" once. Yes, Paige had said that. She'd been rude to Jackie in the office. To Jackie! Indeed, it had been Jackie who'd tipped me off about Paige's changes of behaviour. Besides, even though Paige and the Jennings form the centre of this narrative, it's not as if other issues at the church, in my life and in the world did not take my time, notice and energy. The planning for the coming Kenya Trip was something which itself could have a detailed narrative - which, in fact, there is elsewhere.
Then the call. March 8, 1983. A year plus one day from when I first noticed them. That's the day I noted it in my diary. That day I had also noted that President Reagan had called the Soviet Union, "the focus of evil in the world."
"They're Russians." Paige had called to tell me. What!?
?&%# *%^ !)?
What?
My oh my. What? 'Russians'? It made so much sense. It made no sense at all. What did that even mean? "They're spies and they're trying to turn me into one." She said that they were liars, and that they were trying to turn her into a liar, too. Bizarre is the wrong word, but strangely at no time did I doubt it. Or believe it. Or…. I wondered if I should have had Paige committed to a psych ward, except that I'd have to book myself in, too. Yes, I was that enmeshed by then. Philip & Elizabeth? Russians? Spies? Of course they were! The notion was absurd! But listen to yourself, dude (Dale would have said), now you're really sounding crazy.
Me, I told Alice the bare bones of it. She couldn't make head nor tail of it either. I think Alice thought that Paige just had a fertile imagination. I insisted that Alice not tell anyone until I could figure out the lay of the land. It seemed dangerous. Then again, it didn't. If I called the police, they'd laugh. Maybe get Paige to find out a bit more about what her parents actually did. Maybe convince her to bring them into my office so that we could chat about it.
Paige came to see me as troubled as ever. She was panicked. "You're not to tell anyone!" I reminded her that I was bound by confidentiality, as long as no one was getting hurt. I then made the mistake of telling her that I'd told Alice, but assured her that Alice was part of my confidentiality practise. Paige left my office in tears.
But what really freaked me out? Before I could think it through, they ended up in my office on their own accord! I was caught off-guard. It gave a new twist to the sinister danger I'd felt that night from Mr. Jennings. Or at dinner the previous December with Mrs. Jennings' side-eye. Was my life now in danger? Because let me repeat, they came to me. Benignly so. All smiles. No sinister threats. No side-eyes. None. And they didn't even deny what Paige had said. Two steps ahead of the likes of me!
Pardon the French: what the fuck was going on?
It went like this: the next week, on March 16, my secretary Jackie said that Mr & Mrs Jennings wanted to see me. Once again, they were acting before I'd found my nerve. Jackie said it would be that night, so no time to think or run this by Alice. Paige would be there on that Wednesday anyway for youth group. They'd drive her over, and the three of us would talk while Paige was busy with the group. I met them with trepidation, not knowing if I should at least call the police, so as to get either protection or laughed at.
Once again The Jennings were incredibly disarming. They didn't deny it. What!?
It would have been better if Paige had been demented. Where I'd expected danger, denial and resistance, I got a calm water of confession instead. It was addicting, the way they filled in holes I'd not even considered. They called themselves "peace workers", that their proximity to the U.S. Capital meant they could trade for information, much like the kind of info we wished we'd had in Ecuador last decade when the government there ran amok. With U.S. influence and backing. I mean, I could see it.
I raised the way the Soviet Union persecuted Jews, and the historic abuses in The Ukraine. They countered that their country was not perfect, and had bad flaws. Obvious ones. Part of their work here was to discover Western innovation which could benefit their country, where otherwise the political chill would prevent all that.
There they were: one day daunting, next day disarming. Elizabeth particularly, dropped the ditzy Falls Church housewife routine, but not by a lot, not really. There was no hint of threat from her either. There still was that laser-like focus, incredibly aware of her surroundings.
Next day, I told Paige that my meeting with her parents had gone well. But before I could get too far, Paige lost it with me saying things like that Alice was a gossip.
FATHER RIVAS
Then, as if on cue again I got what I needed. From the Jennings. Even before I realized I needed it. I'm such a dummkopf. It should have been Dale dealing with this. He had an eye for discovering deception and such.
They made another appointment to see me and they arrived with an El Salvadoran priest, presently in the United States at a Peace Conference. Or so they said. Me, remembering the Jesuit Father Grande, I listened to Father Rivas with my heart. He assured me that his friends, The Jennings, were non-violent. That they actually prevented violence. He once learned through the Jennings' contacts here in the Capital that his village in El Salvador would be attacked by their government. As a follower of Father Grande myself (who Father Rivas quoted!), I had heard that story 100s of times. The Jennings had saved his village.
You know, I'd never told anyone about my 'second conversion', the first to Jesus and the second I'd had in Ecuador because of Father Grande. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I found myself 'played' at the corest of my cores. How do people do that?
Things settled down after that for the rest of 1983. Indeed, the focus for me and Alice changed dramatically - Alice was pregnant. Me, I was simply getting worn out by my intoxication with that family. Paige said that over that summer, her parents were home far, far more often. Attentive to she and Henry for the first time. Elizabeth continued on most Sunday mornings with Paige as well as the occasional Saturday work-bee. Alice and I welcomed Paige into our lives, but also being hyper-aware of the mysterious boundaries that seemed to be around these 'Russians'.
Soviets. Living middle-class lives in Falls Church! Going to church and hosting barbecues. My oh my. And there I was, normalizing it. How'd that happen?
