World Gone Water Read Online Free PDF Page B

admittance to the dance, you are to remain inside the building.
    7. No loitering or sitting in cars on church grounds.
    8. Automobiles shall be driven in a quiet and courteous manner, so as not to disturb the residents in the area.
    9. No acrobatics, bear-hugging, bumping, rolling on floor, or exhibitions.
    10. Personal conduct and behavior shall be that expected from exemplary young ladies and gentlemen.
    â€œCan you agree to these rules?” the bishop asked.
    I said that I could.
    â€œVery good,” he said, taking the slip of paper from me and laboriously signing his name to it. “Have you considered joining our church?” he asked as he handed my dance card back.
    I hadn’t. “I might,” I said, knowing that was the answer he wanted to hear. He regarded me cautiously.
    â€œYou might attend with Jenny and her family,” the bishop said. I wondered if he knew about Jenny’s parents’ marital status, guessing that he didn’t. The topic was never broached in Jenny’s house, or in her cousin’s house, everyone pretending like the fact that Jenny’s mother and father were still married but not living in the same house was as natural as their counterparts living together.
    The next question caught me off guard. “Have you and Jenny been intimate?”
    I couldn’t tell if the bishop was joking or not, so I laughed, suppressing a sickening feeling that was building in my stomach. I answered no automatically, not just because it was the truth but because I hoped the answer would stifle the look of surprise on my face.
    â€œHave you been tempted?” he asked.
    I fumbled through a series of “ums” and “wells,” stuttering until I gave up and smiled.
    â€œIt’s okay,” the bishop said. “We’re all tempted. Moral character is defined by how we react to temptation. I hope you’ll continue to consider your moral character in the face of temptation. And Jenny’s, too.”
    I assured him I would, and we both stood, shaking hands. I excused myself and wandered through the empty church halls, treading on the brown carpet past the chapel, stocked with plain wooden pews. I couldn’t imagine then that the room would be the venue for one of my most dramatic and regrettable performances.

Wednesday
    I know Jane can’t leave me. She knows I’m irreplaceable, and I’m glad because frankly I don’t want to replace her. We have got a good thing and not everyone can keep a perfect balance like we do.
    â€œAre you coming with me or not?” Jane demands.
    â€œWhy does it matter where you live?” I ask. “I don’t want to live in California.”
    â€œWell, I do,” she says.
    â€œWhy can’t we just keep doing what we’re doing here?”
    â€œI’m tired of being here.”
    Then I say: “Look, I want you to stay.”
    Jane starts to melt and I feel a little guilty for employing such tactics, but the truth is I
do
want her to stay. But I also know it’s only because I want to sustain what we have and that someday our relationship will inevitably ebb and float away.
    â€œI can’t imagine staying here.” Her voice softens.
    â€œWhat you imagine happening somewhere else is exactly what will happen here,” I say.
    â€œWhat does that mean?”
    â€œIt means that if you’re going to run, make sure you’re running
to
, and not
away
.”
    â€œI’m not running
away
from anything,” she shoots back.
    â€œWhat are you running
to
, then?” I ask.
    â€œI’m not running,
period
.” Her voice grows louder. “I’m simply just
tired
of here.” The emphasis on “tired” insinuates that she is tired of me, too, but I pretend that I’m oblivious and I just sit there and smirk.
    â€œWhy do you have to be so confrontational all the time?” I ask, knowing what this will do to her.
    â€œMe?