The Stolen Gospels Read Online Free PDF Page A

as she was wondering how far-fetched this sounded, her mother came in and announced, “You’re going with me to the meeting.”
    They argued all the way to the car, and across the airbridge spanning Lake Washington. . . .
    “I don’t see why I have to go with you,” Lori said. She slouched in the passenger seat as her mother drove the old Chrysler. Angrily, the lavender-eyed teenager glanced sidelong at her mother, who still wore her office clothes—a brown tweed suit with narrow lapels that were at least ten years out of style.
    “It’ll be good for you.”
    “A goddess circle? Don’t make me laugh.”
    “Watch it, young lady.” She glanced with disapproval at Lori’s short red skirt and tight pink blouse, which revealed her blossoming figure. Her long auburn hair was secured in a pony tail.
    Fiddling with the strap of her purse, Lori gazed out the window. The old car rolled along a winding street on the west side of Mercer Island, an upscale suburb of Seattle. Expensive waterfront and view homes were set in the midst of evergreen trees, with BMWs, Mercedes, and Rolls Royces parked in driveways. The moon was full and bright.
    “Oh, like I don’t have a right to have an opinion, Mom? This is America, isn’t it? Land of the free?”
    “If you hadn’t abused drugs and alcohol, I wouldn’t worry about leaving you at home.”
    “I’ve been through therapy.” Lori stared at her own brown leather purse, which contained, in a zipper pocket, a plastic baggie of marijuana.
    “And you relapsed.”
    “A couple of lousy beers. Big stinkin’ deal.” She felt stressed, wanted to roll a joint and smoke it.
    Lori was street-wise, tough and sassy. When she ran away from home the month before it was her second time, after which she’d gone to weekly counseling sessions with her mother. Lori’s friends were a major concern for Camilla. She called them “users, losers, and abusers.”
    “If I have to, Lori, I’ll put you back in the rehab center.”
    “It’s easier to get drugs in there than it is outside, do you know that?”
    “You’re not staying out all night with boys any more, either, young lady.”
    “Oh, like I’m gonna sneak off while you’re at the goddess circle.”
    The car hit a bump, causing the glove box to pop open, revealing a .38 handgun inside. Reaching over, Camilla slammed the little door shut. Lori’s mother knew martial arts and the use of weapons . . . said she had almost been raped once, and refused to ever let it happen again. She regularly took Lori to target practice, showing her how to fire this handgun and a rifle, and had enrolled her in advanced t’ai chi chuan and beginning karate classes.
    “Lori, you have to build back my trust,” Camilla said. “You’ve let me down too often, and each time it hurts. I’ve been looking forward to this meeting, and I swear you’re not keeping me from it.”
    “Do you want me to be a lesbian, like you?”
    “That’s not true and you know it!” As Camilla glared at her passenger, the big car veered, before she corrected the steering.
    “You don’t like men.”
    “I’ve never said that.” Because of Camilla’s burst of anger, her hands gripped the steering ball so hard that they seemed welded in place.
    “Oh right , like you have sweet things to say about Daddy. Try to think of something good about him, Mom. Just one little thing.”
    “There isn’t much. He did not treat his family well.”
    “That’s a tired tune. Same old generality, without details.”
    Steering the heavy car around a corner, Camilla nudged the accelerator. The old engine sputtered, then finally caught hold, just when it seemed about to expire. Exhaust fumes seeped into the passenger compartment.
    “You’re too gullible around men, Lori, too trusting of them.”
    “ Men ? Mom, I’m only fifteen. I date guys my own age, or maybe a year older.”
    “Yeah, and I know what you do with them.”
    “You’re paranoid, Mom, do you know that?”
    “You