It's three weeks after the old beggar died, and Kevin is lying in bed, listening to Arnold and Nabulungi get ready for bed as he reads his journal entries. Once, he imagined proudly showing his journal to his younger brothers and sisters (Vanessa and Katie have always talked about going on a mission, though they're not required to) to inspire them. If he still wants to do this, he'll have to do some judicious crossing out.
July 10: 10:30 PM — Two days after funeral. Got the house started—the goat donated waste, mixed with mud FOR HOURS. SO TIRED. A+N feel guilty about not being there for church—moved into my room. Brought N's bed from village. Had to hurry to find a wire and curtain. Sis. Ameya reluctantly donated blanket. Curtain separating me from A+N is J Smith rubbing his magical frog over B Young's clit nose. Themba + co. still here.
Most of that week is little more than "Worked on house," "TIRED," and "Themba + co. still here." The subject matter only changes in two sentences: "Nabu has become my and A's new companion. Maf proselytizes with Gots + his daughter." and "Nabu swears way too much!"
July 15: 9:00 PM — Preparation day. There was some trouble with the laundry. I was about to head out to the stream when Nabulungi stopped me.
"Elder Price, do you always do the laundry?"
"Sure."
"Arnold!" She turned to Arnold, who looked up from his Kindle. "How can you let Elder Price do your laundry week after week?"
"I'm really bad at it," Arnold said. "And it gives me more time to work on the Book of Arnold!"
She looked at me suspiciously. "You don't clean this room as well, right?" Well, of course I did. That made her grumpier.
"Arnold, I'm not your mother and neither is Elder Price! We are going to need to start a schedule. Arnold, you'll start today." Just ordered him around like he's a kid!
I actually LIKE doing the laundry. I like the time to myself. Anyway, I tried to explain. "Arnold REALLY is bad at laundry. One time, he forgot to do five shirts because he saw a butterfly." She laughed. She thought I was joking.
"It had the same markings as a Butterfree!" Arnold said. (Some sort of pokemon, I think.)
But she crossed her arms and said "ArnOOOOOOOld" and he sighed and took the laundry basket from me. What a great dynamic to their marriage! She suckered me into another cooking lesson, as always. I should start charging.
She let something slip during this lesson, without even thinking. "Baba always said I was terrible at this." Makes more sense how someone so smart can fail so hard at cooking.
Once that was done, I caught Brian alone and asked him what he meant about those finger-quotes during his big blow-out. Had to remind him what I was talking about. He shrugged. "You guys are so close. It's like you're brothers." He was uneasy—I didn't like reminding him about his hateful words, but I had to know what he meant. I made a point to thank him for all his work on the house. He might still be leaving, but he seems determined to mend bridges. Mason, too, though he doesn't talk a lot lately. Taking his cue from his companion, probably.
Worked a bit more on the house (making more mud bricks), but got to have a nap after. Bit of a breeze. Heaven must be like this.
Arnold sucked at cleaning, big surprise—although it was to Nabu. She sighed and said, "Really, Arnold?" all disappointed. Arnold came back with his usual: "I didn't see that when I was cleaning!" "It's not that big a deal!" "Why make the bed—we just get it messy every night!"
"ArnOOOOOOld," she nagged.
"Okay," he said. My mind was blown! Arnold actually grabbed the broom again and swept up.
We'll see how long THAT lasts.
Arnold's side of the room has been irritatingly clean so far. Oh, it's not perfect—Nabulungi's standards are more lax than Kevin's—but it's leagues better than it used to be. Frowning, Kevin turns the page.
July 17: 8:45 PM — Themba's grandson Daktari asked to join the church of Arnold! Praise Christ! (I should probably mention God a lot more in this journal.)
Not everyone in the village is happy. Maf mentioned church attendance will drop dead if we let lepers in. Maf is clever—knows what buttons to press. For a second was tempted. But I said we've accepted attempted baby-rapists and murderers—why should we turn people away because of something that isn't their choice? Ironically, Themba seems unhappy with Dak, too. "We'll have to fight for his soul, you and me," she joked. I'll have to keep emphasizing our church's similarity to Christianity.
The dining room went dead silent when Themba, Daktari and Zareb came in. Nobody wanted to eat with them. I sat beside them. Arnold dragged Nabulungi over, you could tell she wanted to bolt—but she stayed the entire dinner, even chatted a bit.
Think I'm going to have to be the one to look after Themba and the gang. Jesus looked after lepers, too.
PROBABLY shouldn't compare myself to Jesus. For one thing, Jesus believed in God.
Kevin knows which sentence he's crossing out of this entry. He turns the page, blushing when he starts reading and remembers the subject of these next entries.
July 19: 4 PM — Four times a week?! I think Arnold is oversexed. Or Nabu—but who am I kidding probably Arnold. It can't be THAT good, can it?
July 19: 6 PM — checked out a man today to make sure I wasnt gay GUESS WHAT! NORMAL!
kinda
where the fuck are you s'posd to look? shoulders? butt? chest? mouth? I shud just know what lust is but I dont could ask A but SOOOOOOO dont want to hear about him + N
July 19: 11:05 PM
Threw my journal to the depths of my suitcase and calmed down. I don't think Rob caught me looking, thank God. I know, intellectually, that he's an attractive man. But knowing this doesn't affect my body. Just like with Effu. What is wrong with me?
Since I'm going to tear this page out anyway: I took off my temple garments for the first time tonight. I'm wearing briefs, bought 'em Kampala last time we went. I kept my briefs close to my clean undergarments so the garment's holiness could sink into the briefs.
Tonight I realized that, well, I was thinking what I just wrote, and put the darn briefs on. Goodbye holy underwear.
At the bottom of the page, in small, ragged print is: Rob wasnt the only guy i checkd out.
Kevin grabs his pen from his backpack and puts a large X through the page, a reminder to rip it out in the future.
July 22: 9:28 PM — Mentioned the Hill Cumorah pageant to Themba today, being Brigham Young, etc. She said she'd never been in a play before. I said I didn't see why someone who's not part of the church couldn't do a little acting for us, if she wanted to—and she looked interested. The Church should possibly do another rendition of "Joseph Smith: American Moses"? Will be a hard sell with the other ex-Ms. They don't have the same good memories of it that I do.
I don't even remember what we were talking about, but she called me a sweet boy. So unexpected, sincere—got a bit choked up.
July 27th's entry consists of two words that take up an entire page: HOUSE DONE! Kevin smiles a bit. His smile vanishes when he thinks about writing today's entry. Slowly, he moves his pen across paper.
July 30: 10:08 PM — Got an email from Jack today.
Kevin stares at that for a while, then makes himself write more.
I'd just finished updating the church blog, Facebook etc. with news about the house. Checked the account—$20 more. I was going to look up anti-leprosy aid groups in Uganda when I decided to check my email on a whim.
Boy, my heart leapt when I saw Jack's name in my inbox. Then I read the email. I still can't believe it. He says Mom and Dad blame themselves for making me "snap" (that's what they're calling it!)—they always put too much pressure on me. It's "shell-shocked" them—now they're "barely around in spirit" says Jack. Since the Church of Arnold, Vanessa was caught smoking, Scott is dating an atheist, Tim even asked if he could drink beer like me someday. (Seems the video of the wedding we put up on Youtube had a few seconds of me drinking.) "I'm leaving to go on my mission in a few months," Jack says, "and I feel so torn. How can I leave with my family falling apart?"
You know what, Jack? SO WHAT. Not only am I NOT responsible for the choices my brothers and sisters make, these changes could be good! Let the family explore and discover life beyond the Book of Mormon! These things probably would've happened without the CoA. We're not falling apart—we're just changing. Deal with it. I wish you all the best on your mission—I truly, truly do—but according to my experience, I'll do more good on mine than you'll ever do on yours.
I didn't write that. I didn't write anything.
Kevin pauses to take a deep breath, and forces his pen onward.
Jack wishes he wasn't my brother anymore.
Tears well up in his eyes. The terrible words become meaningless black marks. He wipes his eyes and sniffles into a Kleenex. After regaining his composure, Kevin writes: I'll email him next time I'm in Yunna and tell him how much I love him and everyone back home.
He can't think of anything to write, so he closes his journal. Nabulungi says the evening prayer. One good thing about the curtain is Kevin doesn't have to clasp his hands and pretend to pray anymore.
He closes his eyes and finds himself at his home during Friday-night dinner. Nobody notices him. He watches Grandma Price, Mom and Vanessa serve Mom's mashed potatoes, her chicken wings and drumsticks marinated in soy sauce, her steamed greenbeans and broccoli. In the fridge is dessert: a tub of French vanilla ice cream with strawberries and blueberries for toppings.
Everyone bows their heads to pray. As Kevin starts to bow his head, he learns that he's naked—and he's wearing his briefs. Suddenly, he knows that when his family finishes their prayer they'll be able to see him. They'll know he's not a Mormon anymore.
He tries to run from the room, but he can't. He tries to wedge himself into the china cabinet, but it's too small. He squirms under the table—thank God, this works. But he's not out of the woods yet: he can't let anybody's feet touch him, or they'll feel that he's there.
"Hey," says a genderless voice. Under the table with him is a familiar-looking young woman.
Kevin flinches aside from his sister Katie, who's using her toes to scratch one of the many mosquito-bites on her legs. "Sorry, I'm pretty busy here..."
"I was going to be here, too," says the familiar-looking woman, her voice sounding more feminine now. "With you."
Granpa shifts in his seat; Kevin just manages to jerk aside. Now, he recognizes her. "Stacy, can we talk another time?" She was his girlfriend for a whole four months, and remained his friend after she broke up with him—though he hasn't heard much from her since the Church of Arnold.
"But you made your choice," she says sadly, as he recoils from Dad's shoe as Dad crosses his legs.
"I didn't." He grabs her hand. "We can still be here. You and—damnit!" Scott aims a kick at Tim's shin, and Kevin only just withdraws his arm in time.
Stacy puts her hand on his bare chest. Kevin freezes. As he does, a shoe touches his thigh.
"What on Earth...?" says Mom.
"No," Kevin whispers. "Not her. Not her!" He twists onto his back, grabbing at the tablecloth, which slides easily into his hands, sending fake pink and yellow dollar-store flowers falling to the ground. Mom pushes her chair back. Kevin covers himself, but he knows it won't hide him.
He can feel Stacy behind him as Mom's hands drop below the table, then her long chestnut hair, then the lower half of her face.
"Elder Price?" It's not Stacy behind him, but Nabulungi, who looks confused.
"Well," he grumbles, "you I definitely didn't choose."
Mom's face grows large in his vision.
"Elder Price?"
Kevin opens his eyes to a dark room, his heart pounding.
"You were having a nightmare," Nabulungi whispers. Kevin clamps down on the urge to snap in reply. He hates that Nabulungi knows when he has bad dreams. A week and a half left, he reminds himself, and feels better.
"Would you like to talk to Arnold?" she asks.
Once, he wouldn't have had to go through her to get to his companion. He grits his teeth. "Please."
She wakes Arnold up and slips off to the bathroom. Arnold pulls back the curtain. Kevin is so grateful to see him—the pillow crease on his cheek, the blearily blinking eyes—that it hurts.
Arnold blinks at Kevin. "YOU'RE SHIRTLESS!" That's Arnold-speak for 'So, I noticed you're not wearing your holy temple undergarments, buddy.' Arnold rips his glasses off his nose and wipes them against the top of his undergarment. Kevin knows why he's acting weird—there's no bigger physical declaration of not being part of the Mormon Church anymore.
"It's just so hot at night," Kevin says, feigning unconcern as his mind hisses Sinner.
Arnold giggles as if he made a joke. "Hot. Heh, yeah." He clears his throat and examines his glasses. "So, what's up?"
If this was before Nabulungi, Arnold would've leapt onto Kevin's bed and leaned in way too close. Look how much she's helping him! Even though Arnold's lack of physical boundaries annoyed Kevin more often than not, Kevin feels sad.
"I, ah, had a nightmare. I think a lot of it has to do with an email I got from my brother today."
"Oh," Arnold says quietly as he sits beside Kevin on the bed, which lightens Kevin's spirits. "Not good, huh?"
Kevin gives him the gist of it. "And I just logged out of the computer. I completely forgot about the anti-leprosy aid groups," he finishes, sighing. He glances at his companion. He didn't think he'd talked that long, but it was too long for Arnold; he's staring through Kevin, his mind obviously miles away.
"Forget it," Kevin snaps. "Just go back to sleep."
Arnold flinches. "No! No, no, no! I'm listening, buddy! I just remembered a story that kinda fit! At the start of Battlestar Galactica, Apollo and his dad have had some bad stuff happen between them. Apollo's brother Zak died, his dad left him with his alcoholic mom when Apollo was a kid—it was pretty bad. But when the Cylons attacked, the two of 'em pulled together and became a real father and son with an awesome musical theme and everything."
He's trying. Kevin smiles. "So I just need robots that look like people to attack the human race and Jack and I will be fine?"
Arnold chuckles, squeezing his shoulder with damp fingers. "Maaaaaybe it doesn't...um..." Blushing, he drops his hand from Kevin's shoulder. "It doesn't completely track with your situation. But families can pull together in the most unlikely situations. We can work on your reply after proselytizing tomorrow, if you want."
Kevin grins. "Thanks, pal."
Arnold jumps up. "Well," he laughs loudly, "back to bed! 'Night!" He vanishes behind the curtain. Didn't think he'd be this freaked out over normal underwear; he was never a devout Mormon. Guess you never can know another person, can you?
He falls asleep and wakes up to Nabulungi hissing, "Arnold! Stop!"
The sound of laboured panting gives Kevin an idea what he woke up to. His stomach sinks. He tries to keep his breathing slow and even; letting them know he woke up would embarrass everyone even further.
"Elder Price is right there," she hisses.
"The couch!" Arnold's excited whisper is so loud that it's better classified as 'speaking softly.' "The long couch in the common room..."
Nabulungi is silent for a moment. Then she whispers, "If you want to kiss me, kiss me. Do not kiss me and think of your boyfriend." She sounds angrier than Kevin has ever heard her.
Probably got distracted by some Star Wars episode he could've related to my situation...He frowns when the word 'boyfriend' catches his attention. Fear flutters in his stomach, but he shrugs it off. The simplest explanation is probably the correct one: because he and Arnold spend a lot of time together, she likes to joke that they're boyfriends. That's mature.
"Don't call him that!" Arnold hisses, and Kevin is pleased to hear that Arnold agrees with him though he's not sure why Arnold sounds quite so vehement. "And I wasn't...wasn't thinking about..." He's silent for a while. "Oh." He gulps. "I guess...I was. I'm so sorry, Nabu—"
She cuts him off with what sounds like a kiss.
When they finish, she says, "I will let it go this once. You are lucky you are cute." They chuckle. The straw mattress crackles as they lie down. "Do you think Elder Price should date Sister Ameya? She was circumcised, so I do not think she would mind being with an asexual."
Kevin catches his breath. The words boom loud as thunder in his ears. What? Arnold, you didn't—you couldn't—
"Oh, man!" Arnold is speaking softly again. "I always thought there was something there! The way he sweet-talked her into donating a blanket for the curtain..."
Every cell of his body is tight, quivering. He remembers this kind of anger, but it's not directed at God or Nabulungi this time. You didn't tell her I'm...that word, that word I don't even like to think—
Turn it off. Turn it off. He tries to conjure the image of his family turning away from him if they found out how deep his rage was—but they already hate him. Arnold won't be my friend if I don't turn it off...
I DON'T CARE!
Arnold is babbling on about the awesome double dates they could go on when Kevin leaps up from his bed.
Kevin breaks the silence by snapping, "Arnold Cunningham, you asshole!" He grabs his pillow and blanket and throws himself down on the long couch in the common room that Arnold was considering having sex on.
He wakes up once more that night when Nabulungi creeps into the common room and hangs his clean outfit for tomorrow on the doorknob of the kitchen door. She starts to say something, but leaves with whatever it was unsaid.
Kevin stares up at the ceiling. Beyond that is a night sky, cruel and empty. He's never been more certain in his life that there's no God.