oct 18th, 1992





The next day I am the crucifier. I arrive at the side door of the only religious building I have ever known in the south side of Peoria. I slip into the door behind the altar where the pastors meet and pray with elders before the service. I wear the same billowy red and white robes that the acolytes wear.  I gran the cross and walk out the door around the building entering the Community Hall, idling outside the choir room where, already, it reeks of disinfectant and extremely cheaply brewed  Sunday morning coffee served in military urns.

The choir is warming up doing vocal exercises. We walk up the ramp and in twos and mill at the back of the church as mentally challenged adults toll the bell overhead 33 times, one for each year of Christ. There is a moment of eclipsed silent during the final gong of the bells as Pastor Schudde and Associate pastor Disbro shuffle in front of the pastel statue of our Lord.

The cross has a picture of a splayed-arm long haired hippie. Each plank contains a dove, an olive leaf, a communion chalice and a hand making a vertical stuck together peace sign.

 The organist is in her early 80’s and the organ always seems to have a brassy flare per her intro. I am holding the cross so that the shadow of the lower-case t drips on my forehead as I enter the church, a locomotive, leading in the choir, each holding out their black choir folder in front of them. I am to walk slow, as if I am a bride carrying a cross in lieu of a bouquet. As I enter the parish the entire congregation swivels on their Sunday morning dress shoes facing the direction of the chrome emblem I am ferrying,

I am at the urinal before Sunday school in the bathroom that looks like an inside bottle of Listerine aiming for the diminutive latrine puck when Eggplant Elmore, almost on cure, shows up and starts talking to me. It’s like he can’t have a conversation unless it after first service and I have my cock in my hand.

“ Did you know you clanged the cross again when you set it down.  Everyone in the church looked at you.”

I tell him I know. I tell him that I even came in early to practice and I did it fine in rehearsal.”

“I’m surprise they are still letting you be the crucifier. I’d be really embarrassed if that was me and I was in front of the whole congregation like that and made that much noise.”

“Look, Elmore, I’m trying to pee.”

Elmore says fine be that way before stating that having difficulty urinating in the presence of males is an early indicator of impotency. I try telling Elmore that I’m not impotent, I just have a hard time juicing when obnoxious toady’s wallow behind my stance.

I am trying to finish up when David best walks in, very fast, like a Tin soldier sans joints.

“So, I hear dyou were hanging out with Renae and Laura and Kristy and the whole gang Friday night.” Elmore inquires. David is washing his hands.

“Yeah, actually. I asked Renae out. We are dating.”



David Best stops. He looks stunned. Like we are playing Laser Tag and are on the same team and I intentionally zapped him in his ruby laser tag bubble inopportunely located on his chest.  Immediately he inquires if we noted that the Atlanta Braves one game one of the World Series.


“Glavine was lights out.”

I am still trying to finish aiming at the urinal puck. Elmore swivels into the direction of Best.

“Did you hear. The two of the are dating. Dave is dating your ex now.”

“You guys are dating?”

“Yeah. She’s my girlfriend. We went out Friday night and I then I called her yesterday and asked her out over the phone.”

David Best is quiet.

“Hey, I know you guys dated last year.

“You were right about Renae’s dad. He’s really cool.”


As I walk out into the parking lot after Sunday School there are pamphlets planted like flattened tulips on the windshield of all the parishioners cars. The pamphlets read, “Can a Christian Vote for Gov. CLINTON?”

Mom says that our President is a God fearing man.


“He could still win the race. It’s going to be a close one.”



                                                                                   ***



I try calling my first official high-school girlfriend three times that night but her line is always busy. Unlike Best or Hale or our family she doesn’t have call waiting.  Daintily I visualize Renae calling her friends and availing the news that we are a bona fide high school couple, inexplicably holding up her forefinger waiting for her future bridesmaids to comment that it’s beautiful.

“Listen, Dave, I hate to be the one to tell you this but I just got off the phone with Renae and she says you guys aren’t dating.”

There is something in the way D. Best say t he word aren’t which makes him sound like he is a park ranger giving a lecture on fire safety and I have just inadvertently lit a cigarette over a freshly spilled gasoline puddle in a dry pine forest.

‘Yeah, I just got off the phone with her. I think you really confused her last night.”

I want to tell my best friend that he is confusing me. I want to tell him that he badgered me all summer into calling Renae up and asking her out.

“No. Listen  I asked her out last night. She said yes. I could feel her beaming on the other end of the phone. We discussed our feelings. I told her that I practically drool over her every aching tic of every eclipsed school clock second and she confessed that she thinks about me also all the time and that our feelings are mutual.”

 I called her up and asked her. Apparently she thought you only asked her to go hang out at the mall or something sometime in the near indeterminate future.”

“What!!!”

“Yeah, you’re not dating, man. Sorry.”

“Well if you noted Renae about this snafu why didn’t you have her call me. We’re really tight and even if we’re not on the boyfriend-girlfriend caliber we kinda have a friendship thing going.”

“Well. Renae tells me that she likes you but not in that way.”

“What?” I say again. I am stunned. My heart feels like it has a larger fissure in it than my leg.

“Yeah, I called her up and she was in the shower and  Larry Answered the phone…”

“Yeah, I like Larry. He cracks me up.”

Dave informs me rather militantly that Larry wants me to address him as Mr. Holiday.

“Anyway, we ended up talking and he said that you were looking at the other girls more Friday night in the car than you were Renae. He then said that he knows your type and I’m sorry to say that I have to agree with him.”

I have no clue what my friend is talking about. I ask him what he means.

“he said that all you want is just to get in his daughters pants and boast about it in the locker room and I have to agree I kind of agree with him.”

Dave tells me sorry, bro. I am stunned.

“That’s just how all parents are. He was really cool the other night when were were smashed into his Firebird and then dropped us off Downtown at the game.:

“Yeah, well Larry says that he knows what you are like because you remind him of himself when he was your age.”

I am confused. I swear David is jangling his pronouns.

I hate to say it but I had to kind of agree with him. You were running around all last summer trying to mount anything bipedal with a pulse.

“I have no clue what you are talking about." I am pissed that my lifelong childhood friend is trying to stab me in the back.

“Let’s see all those girls in your French class. Than that girl from Washington in that play you were in. Then that older girl from Richwoods who was really intelligent. Then that girl who goes to central whom you used to skinny dip with while smoking marijuana.”

“David I was never smoking marijuana!”

I want to ask him why he is like this all of a sudden. Dave iterates again that I do have to admit to myself that I did have a rather productive summer so to speak.


“Anyway you guys are both friends and I would hate for Renae just to be another notch in the tattered garrison belt that is your romantic love life.’

I want to tell D. Best that I really felt sopped up and used by Tina. That I was confused about what happen with Dawn especially when she dissipated when everything was seemingly perfect. I want to tell him that I fucked up over Andrea and that I bled tears over Anastasia from Washington.

I want to tell my best friend since Kindergarten that I don’t have time for this blathering. That  the stress fracture in my leg still hasn’t healed all the way and that I should be focused on endeavoring to at least get a B in Cool Joe Thomas’s still yet untaught BIO class and somehow augment my grade in Mrs. Donaghue’s-Peabody Masochistic mathematics.

 
“When I was talking to Larry about all this on the phone Renae apparently came in to the room and Larry asked her if you were dating and Renae didn’t say anything.”
 
Dave is apologizing again for the mix up.
 
“Yeah, Larry likes to mess around, he was making you appear as some sort of lothario. He was only messing around though. You have to know Larry. He’s a really good guy."


                                                                   ***

            “Renae says you guys aren’t dating.” Dave notes again on the phone.

                                                                    ***

            “But I asked her out. I told her how much I enjoy being with her. I told her how much I want to hang out with her.”


            “I don’t think she realizes that you guys are a couple.” He says again, very straightforwardly, as if he is marketing an insurance premium. as if he is trying to deliberately  hurt me. As if he is trying to show me that after all this time I still have no where else to go.

 
                                                                        ***



I call David Hale. I tell him that I still can’t move my leg all that well and that I thought I asked this angel out but obviously I didn’t. Hale asks if I ever talk with Dawn. I say yeah I then add sporadically. I then add that Dawn is a special friend. Hale retorts by stating that he thinks he knows who Renae is and that she makes out with two or three different football players a day. I tell Hale that he has the wrong girl. 

I hang up the phone.

I leave.

I am sick of taking shit from Mrs. Peabody on how every time she blinks the lid of her eyes it looks like ticker tape unraveling the final integers of . I’m sick of pulling C’s in cool Joe Thomas’s class which he never teaches.

 

I’m sick of how I worked so hard for something last summer which never came.

 

I’m sick of how I was faster the weeks of the school year than I am now.

 

The team is preparing their final workouts before Regional this weekend.
 
I need to collect from Marge. I have been avoiding her since I had my last racist joust with Tina two months ago.  Normally I can catch Marge on a week when Tina isn’t home.
 
She has made no endeavor to contact me since our last altercation.
 
I am not limping as hard as I was earlier in the day. I turn into the walkway I see Tina, by herself, wearing a bandana seated in almost yogic posture on her front swing, She is swaying back and forth taking almost strategic puffs from an unsuspecting Winston.
 
She looks like she has been crying.
 
The moment I see her she holds up her hand and makes a claw. She is waving. She looks like she needs a friend.
 
I look down into my collection book and flip the address. I swill. I pretend to be clumsy. I walk the opposite direction.
 
I pretend I have not seen her at all.
 
 

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