Callan Wink - Dog Run Moon

Eventually, Janelle resumed attending church services, at New Directions Non-denominational Church of Christ. New Directions was a congregation of over a thousand, and instead of a choir, it had a band that played Christian rock music, the lyrics of which flashed across a Jumbotron. There were no hymnals. The pastor was tan and a beautiful sermonizer. He reminded Janelle of a Kennedy. Janelle found herself looking forward to Sundays in a way she never had before. She tried to get Denise to join her. Denise refused. But, surprisingly, one Sunday, Todd neglected the lawn and accompanied her.

—

While Terry was away his father accepted Christ into his life at New Directions Church, and it was like he had discovered some necessary bodily function that he had somehow been living without. He accepted Christ like eating, like drinking water, like sucking down great draughts of cold, clean air. When Pastor Clint got up on the stage and gave his sermons, Todd felt his words as if they were meant for him and him alone. Todd liked the way that New Directions did away with all the old religious claptrap. There were no robes or candles or ridiculous ceremonies involving dunking people in water. At New Directions, it was just the words of Pastor Clint, a thousand brothers and sisters in Christ pressed around you in support, and some music that really glorified God, with drums and amplifiers, the way music was meant to be played.

Eventually, it was Todd who forced Denise to attend New Directions with them on Sundays. He told her she would come to church and receive the Word of God if he had to drag her there and tie her to a pew.

“Maybe I failed your brother,” he said. “Maybe I didn’t fulfill my duties as a father in the eyes of the Lord. But I will not make that mistake with you. You will be a Godly young woman and a sister of Christ.”

And, on a Sunday when Denise refused to get out of bed and locked the door against him, Todd, sure in the knowledge of the Lord, kicked her bedroom door open and pulled her, sobbing, from her bed. Denise lay sprawled on the floor while he ripped clothing from hangers in her closet and threw them at her. She screamed for her mother. Janelle didn’t come. Denise eventually got dressed and slumped in the backseat of the van. For the whole church service, and most after that, she watched her father, his eyes closed while he absorbed Pastor Clint’s sermon, and she imagined, she wished, that Terry had killed him instead of that guy at the bar. With Todd gone, two years with Janelle would be bearable until Terry came back and then they could go somewhere else to live. Where didn’t matter. What they would do when they got there didn’t matter. As long as she and Terry could be together they would be okay.

—

At first, Terry thought about it constantly. The events of that night on an endless loop reeling through all his waking thoughts, polluting his dreams. And then, halfway through the first year, he didn’t think about it much at all. It became something about him, an alteration that was somehow more physical than emotional. Some people have their wisdom teeth out, some people don’t. Some people have diabetes, some people don’t. Some people live with the knowledge that they caused the death of another human being, some people don’t. Whenever certain thoughts reared their heads, Terry breathed deeply while staring at a fixed object and they passed, like car sickness.

For some reason, he was less successful in his attempt to forget the day of his sentencing. The thinly veiled look of revulsion on the judge’s face when she addressed him. The way she moved her glasses down low on her nose, and told him she hoped two years was enough to get him back on track. He regularly carried out imaginary conversations with this woman, debates where he pled his case eloquently, expressed his sorrow in a completely honest and believable manner, where he presented, unequivocally, the truth that two years in Saginaw would not, could not, get him — or anyone else — back on track.

Once, he had a dream where he skewered the judge on a giant hook, pushing the point right through her skin, through her ribs and under the spine, and then tossed her in a great blank body of water where she hung suspended under a bobber so big it blotted out the sun.

—

Over the course of the two years, there had been visits. For the first few months, they made the drive downstate every weekend. They sat in the communal visiting area and listened to the subdued voices of the other families at tables near them. Other families, with other sons, who all seemed to have a lot more to talk about. During the second year, the visits had decreased to just holidays, an arrangement that suited everyone except Denise, who would have camped in the waiting area had they let her.

It was June when they let Terry out, and he hadn’t seen his family since Christmas. Terry’s father shook his hand and said, “Welcome back, son. Praise the Lord.” Out in the parking lot, in the bright sunlight, Terry thought Todd seemed older, grayer. He wore a gold crucifix and had his shirt tucked into his jeans. Terry’s mother hugged him and cried. She seemed to have lost some weight. She had dyed her hair to cover the gray, and her nails were painted tomato red. Denise came to Terry last. She hugged him as well, jumping up to get her arms around his neck, practically clinging to him. He could smell her shampoo.

Terry picked her up and slung her, squealing, over his shoulder, realizing as he did so that she wasn’t his gangly, tomboy kid sister anymore.

“Jesus, Den,” he said, as he put her down. “I don’t see you for a little while and you get full grown on me.”

Denise turned red and didn’t say anything and when Terry got into the backseat of the van she sat next to him, her head resting on his shoulder. It wasn’t until they were almost home that Terry’s dad told him about the house.

“Your grandpa left it to you, his truck too — pretty much everything he had. It was a surprise to us, too. Believe me, no one was expecting that. But the lawyer says it’s legit and a man’s will is a man’s will, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it if he is proven to be of sound mind and body at the time it was drafted. He got it drawn up pretty soon after you went away. Didn’t tell anyone about it. It definitely came as a surprise to us, but, well, I suppose it’s God’s will. You’re a homeowner, son. Eighteen years old and you got a house that’s paid for. What do you think of that?”

Terry nodded and said he thought it was fine.

“Could you drop me off there,” he said, “on the way by?”

“But I planned to make you dinner,” his mother said, turning in her seat to face him, “I’ve had spare ribs in the Crock-Pot all day.”

“I’ll come over later. I’ll drive the truck over. I just want to look at the place. Have a look at the lake. I guess that’s where I’ll be living from now on. I guess it’s mine.”

“I just thought we’d all have dinner together,” she said. “It’s been so long. I thought a good dinner would sound nice to you.” She smiled and her lips moved like she was going to continue but Terry’s father put his hand on her arm and she turned back in her seat.

They dropped Terry off at the house. Denise wanted to stay with him but Todd said that Terry might want some time alone. Terry shrugged. “It’s fine with me if she wants to stay.”

“See? It’s fine with him.” Denise started to get out of the van but Todd stopped her.

“You’re coming with us,” he said. “Leave your brother alone.”

Denise slouched back in the seat with her arms crossed, and they pulled away — Todd with both hands on the wheel staring straight ahead, Janelle waving out the window and exaggeratedly mouthing something that Terry had a hard time understanding for a moment until it became clear. Spare ribs, she was saying. Spare. Ribs .