You Don't Know About Me Read Online Free PDF Page A

here.”
    Mom pushed her hair back and stared at me. “We need to pray.” She grabbed my hand and tried to pull me down to the throw rug that always marked where our living room was.
    I pulled away. “I’ll pray after you tell me why we’re here and how things are gonna be different.”
    She flashed me a look Carry Nation probably had sported before she’d swung her hatchet. “I told you yesterday, it’s a shining city on a hill with fine churches and God-fearing Christians.”
    â€œI’ve seen the place, Mom. The shiniest thing in town is a huge Mormon temple. Did you know about that?”
    â€œYes, and I made sure it was on the other side of town.”
    â€œAre you planning to take on the Mormons?”
    â€œWe do what the Lord tells us to do.”
    â€œOkay, I’ll tell you what He’s telling me to do.” I swallowed and went on. “He wants me to go to high school.”
    She took a step back like she’d been pushed by an invisible force. “That’s not God talking, that’s Satan.” She came at me, wagging a finger. “He won’t fasten his grip on you.”
    I darted away and gave her the speech I’d patched together on the way home. “Most kids stop homeschooling after junior high, and go to high school so they can witness and bring others to Christ. I checked out the school; it looks nice. I prayed in front of it. I asked God to send me there and make me like my father. You know, like you said he always preached. ‘Be a fisher of men: you catch ’em, let Jesus clean ’em.’ ”
    She pitched the dishrag in the sink. “You’ve had your say, now listen up. You will not go to a school filled with the wicked.
Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers
.”
    â€œHow do you know they’re unbelievers?”
    â€œLook what a bunch of them did to you!” she shouted.
    â€œThey’re not unbelievers. They were in church this morning!”
    Her eyes narrowed to slits. “You said you didn’t recognize them.”
    I flushed red—totally busted.
    She stepped close. Her voice went low and scolding. “You lie to me. You covet a school filled with sinners. You dishonor your mother and you dishonor God. Now I know why the Lord intervened and guided me to a decision.”
    I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “What decision?”
    â€œI picked up a brochure at church this morning, and while you were off getting in trouble I found a pay phone and made some calls. Before you resume your education in
this
house, you’re going to Bible camp.”
    â€œBible camp!” I yelled so loudly spit flew out of me. “It’s almost August. It’s too late for that!”
    â€œIt’s never too late,” she said with iron in her voice. “You’ve fallen away, Billy. Your heart needs to be put right in the eyes of God.”
    â€œMy heart is right,” I pleaded. Then I told her how I’d do extra Bible study and go to church every day if she wanted.
    She wasn’t listening. Her eyes were all shiny with Spirit juice. When she gets that way a verse is bound to drop from heaven and land on her lips. Sure enough, one did.
“The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked,”
she recited.
“Who can know it?”
    The answer is that only God can know what’s in your heart. I fought the urge to tell her she wasn’t the lord of my heart.
    She moved to the rug and knelt. “If you can’t see how defiant you’re being, I’ll pray for you alone.”
    When we argued like this it always felt like she was giving me two choices: get down and pray, or run away. When it happened—and it had been happening a lot more—the same two questions popped up. Where would I go? Who would I run to? The fact was, there was no one else.
    So I did what I always did. I invented a reason to obey. On