Evolution, Me & Other Freaks of Nature (13 page)

My heart beat a little faster. In part because he was talking so seriously for once, and in part because he sounded like he wanted to protect me.

“Careful of what?”

“K has a way of sucking people in. I like my sister— don't get me wrong—but just remember that this is her show, and we're all just extras.”

“So you think I shouldn't do it.”

“I think you should think about what's in it for you. That's all.”

He got up from Kayla's bed and left me to ponder that.

What's in it for me? Why do anything that might get me in deeper with this family?

I can think of a few reasons. And one of them had just left the room.

Twenty-six

When I finished my Bible Grrrl piece, I went looking for everyone else. Mrs. Connor was out in the backyard trying to keep the puppies from devouring their mother. Abbey was doing a pretty good job of that herself, growling and nipping at them every time they went in for a nipple. Her way of saying, “Switch to solids.”

I called for the others. Casey shouted, “Back here!” from the far end of the house, where he had told me his mother's office was.

I walked down the hall to the first open door and looked in. Mrs. Connor's office wasn't at all what I expected. The nice part about it is that one whole wall is just windows looking out on the garden. The sun comes right in, so you don't even need to turn on the lights. I could see Mrs. Connor sitting on the grass playing with Lily. It must be nice to be able to work at home and wear jeans and flip-flops if you want, especially if every time you take a break there are puppies around to play with.

The weird thing about her office is that for someone
who makes such beautiful furniture, she really scrimped on herself. All she has in there is a drafting table, a stool, a small computer desk, and a long conference table covered in blueprints and drawings. Other than the stool and the little swivel chair in front of her computer, there isn't anyplace to sit down. It's like she doesn't want anyone coming in and getting too comfy. And unlike the rest of the house, there are no bookcases or books or pictures or anything personal. The whole room is kind of cold, which doesn't seem like Mrs. Connor at all.

I followed Kayla's laughter to the room next door. Now
that
was an office.

All leather and wood and books and paintings and clutter and comfort and warmth. That is where I'd love to spend my entire life.

“Hey, BG,” Kayla said. “Finished?”

I handed her the printout and sat next to Casey on the floor, our backs propped against the wall. Josh lay sprawled across the leather couch, his giant legs dangling over the end. Kayla had her own sprawl going across a wide leather armchair.

“Nice,” Kayla said when she finished reading. “You're hired.” She showed it to Josh, who barely glanced at it before going back to tossing a mini-beanbag over his head.

“We're brainstorming T-shirts,” Casey told me.

“Is this your dad's office?” I whispered. Casey nodded.

I was in a snooping mood. I pushed to my feet and started looking around.

“How ‘bout this,” Kayla threw out. “ ‘If God made Darwin, how can Darwin be wrong?’ “

Josh gave it an “eh.”

Silence descended again. The only sound was the wooden floor aching beneath my feet as I walked along the bookcases scanning some of the titles. Soon I came to the shelves holding Mr. Connor's books.

Casey joined me and pulled out one of the paperbacks. “That's a good one.”

“They're all good,” Kayla said, a little defensively.

On the cover were a man and a woman dressed in flight suits, like air force pilots. In the background was the spaceship they had crash-landed.
Red Horizon,
by Jack Connor.

“Wow. That's really cool,” I said. “How many did he write?”

“Thirty-nine.”

“Plus all his articles.” Kayla pointed to the bottom shelf, where there was a whole row of scientific journals.

“Was he … famous?”

“With some people,” Casey said. “The SF crowd— science fiction.”

“And the serious scientists,” Kayla said, again a little defensively. “He had a lot of crossover.”

Suddenly I understood that whole Science Brain thing Casey and his sister have going. I hope I don't have Insurance Brain. How sad would that be?

“You can read that if you want,” Casey said.

“No, I … wouldn't want to ruin it or anything.” I started to return
Red Horizon
to the shelf.

Casey stopped me. “We've got about eighty copies all over the house. Take it.”

“No …” But I saw the look on his face. And Kayla's. It was like some sort of a test. “Okay, sure. I'd love to.”

“Don't worry, no sorcerers,” Casey said. “Just bloody battles and dismemberments. I assume that's okay.” He gave me a little nudge with his elbow.

“Yeah, that's okay,” I answered way too seriously. My heart was beating too fast. All because of that nudge.

Pathetic.

Kayla arched her back over the chair and stretched her long arms wide. “I'm burnt. I need a break.”

Josh spidered his legs off the couch and the two of them headed for the kitchen.

Casey and I stayed behind.

“Sorry that took so long,” I told him. “Want to go back to work?”

“In a minute.” Casey plopped onto the couch and took over Josh's job of tossing the mini-beanbag above his head. I settled into the leather chair Kayla had left warm.

“So, how come you were all back here?”

“My mom lets Josh use it for his office when he's here. He's always helping my mom and K with their computer stuff, so …” The beanbag went astray. Casey retrieved it and went back to tossing. “Plus, my dad had this great computer and printer, so I guess my mom figures … I don't know. It shouldn't go to waste.” Abruptly he sprang to his feet. “Ready?”

“Um, sure.” I picked up
Red Horizon
and followed Casey back into the living room. “I don't have much time. Can we do something quick?”

Casey seemed glum—not something I'm used to from him. Not that I know him all that well, but usually he seems so up.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He crinkled his brow. “ ‘Course.” He slid open the glass door and joined his mother and the pack in the backyard.

Kayla came out of the kitchen chomping on an apple and carrying a box of crackers. Josh had a plate of spaghetti.

Kayla glanced at the clock. “Leave in about fifteen?”

“Sure.” I hadn't even asked her to give me a ride. I guess now it's just assumed.

“Little C doesn't like it in there,” Kayla said, jerking her chin toward the back offices. “Notice?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I think it's hard for him to see us moving on. Like we were supposed to make a shrine out of my dad's office or something. I mean, I miss the guy, but he's not coming back.” Kayla shrugged. She dug out a few crackers and alternated between those and the apple. “C's problem is he had this whole Gandalf fantasy going.”

“Who's Gan—”

“Oh, that's right,” Kayla said. “I heard—no
Lord of the Rings.
Crying shame, if you ask me. You really need to check out Aragorn.”

“Mm,” Josh growled. “Man-flesh.” Then went right back to seriously stuffing his face.

Kayla patted her boyfriend's leg. “Don't worry, honey, I'd never leave you for him.” She rolled her eyes at me.
“Anyway, Gandalf dies and everyone's so shocked because we all thought he was invincible, but then it turns out he is, actually, and he reappears even more powerful than before.”

Kind of like Jesus, I thought but didn't say. I'd done enough Bible Grrrl work for now.

“Anyway, C would never have admitted it because he knows I would have stuffed his head down the toilet if he did, but I think a little part of him hoped for a while that one day dear old Dad would reappear, just like the White Wizard.” She shoved in three crackers at a time. “Poor little guy. Sad, huh?”

“Yeah.”

I didn't feel like being inside anymore. But mostly I didn't want to hear Kayla make fun of her brother for being an eleven-year-old kid who wished his dad would come back to life. I know she wasn't trying to be mean, but it made me feel extra sorry for him.

I joined Casey and Mrs. Connor and twelve sets of very sharp milk teeth out in the backyard. I sat down in the grass, and right away Christmas loped over to me and climbed onto my lap. Break my heart, why don't you? Then Bear noticed the injustice of a puppy other than him being the center of attention, so of course he had to come bite Christmas's ear. I rolled him onto his back and tickled his belly just to show him who was boss.

“Aren't we going to miss our babies?” Mrs. Connor said.

I didn't mean to, but I looked over at Casey the exact
moment he looked at me, and I got this lump in my throat like I was going to cry. I quickly looked back at the puppies.

In a little over a week, the experiment will be over. No more afternoons at the Connors’.

It's really too dismal to think about.

Twenty-seven

The picketers turned up this morning. Twenty-three of them with signs like
Let Our Children Hear the Truth
and
Only the Unintelligent Deny Intelligent Design
and
Darwin = Devil
and other snappy slogans.

There were news crews, too, which is why Teresa and Adam and the other publicity hounds were marching right along with their parents. Teresa wore a
Savior Self
T-shirt and jeans that looked like they were compressing all her organs and cute pink high-heeled sandals that were obviously not built for hours and hours of picketing. But she only had to walk a few steps anyway before a reporter singled her out—she is hard to miss—so I guess Teresa's face will be on the news tonight, just like I'm sure she hoped.

Besides the kids who were marching, I knew almost all the other picketers: six or seven moms, a few dads, the ladies from the church office, a couple of old guys who are always greeters on Sunday, and Pastor Wells's personal secretary. But Pastor Wells wasn't there himself, which surprised me. He must have had other important photo ops today.

The picketers knew me, too, of course, which didn't make it easy to walk past them, since they felt it necessary to shout, “God will judge you, Mena!” and other fun things like that.

Such a nice way to start the school day.

“Neanderthals,” Kayla called them. She was leaning against a pillar near the entrance, looking like she'd barely slept a minute last night.

“I thought you didn't have class until later.”

“Don't,” she answered. “Paper. Out tomorrow.” In her exhausted state she'd started to talk like Josh. She jerked her chin toward the crowd. “Yours?”

“Former.”

“Scary.” Kayla nodded toward a group of four men in sports coats being interviewed off to the side of the picketers. “Them?”

I nodded. They were from the church, too. Two of them were assistant pastors.

“Told you,” she said. “Infiltrating. School board.”

“They're running for the school board?”

“Election's November,” Kayla said.

“But if they get elected—”

“Bye-bye, evolution.”

We stood and watched the parade a little while longer. The woman holding the
Darwin = Devil
sign was really getting into it, pumping the sign up and down, shouting, “Keep Darwin away from my kids! Keep Darwin away from my kids!”

Kayla sighed and forced out some extra words. “Someone should break it to her that Darwin didn't invent
evolution, he just noticed it. It's like saying Newton invented gravity.” Kayla shook her fist. “Down with Newton! Gravity's keeping me down!”

She cracked up at her own joke and couldn't stop laughing. “Ah, man, I'm so fried. Gettin’ a little slap-happy.” She pushed off from the pillar. “But miles to go before I sleep, huh? See ya, Mene. Back to the free press.”

“Good luck.”

Kayla waved to me over her shoulder. She shuffled off toward the newspaper office to do whatever else needed doing to get the
Post
out tomorrow. Meanwhile, I stayed put, staring at the spectacle.

And it really got me thinking.

If not for my problems with the church, would I have been out there picketing with them this morning? Wouldn't I be carrying some sign right along with Teresa and Adam, shouting, “Teach me the truth!” and “Darwin lied!” and getting all worked up over this?

Here's a scary thought: Would I hate Ms. Shepherd right now? Would I think she's evil for teaching what she's teaching? Wouldn't I have been happy to hear Teresa say, “Shepherd is going down”?

And what about Casey? There's no way I'd be friends with him. First of all, he doesn't believe what I believe, and second, I never would have gotten to know him. I'd be hanging out with my old friends, completely ignoring everyone else.

These are the kinds of thoughts that drive me crazy. Because it seems like all it takes is one blip in the road,
and suddenly you're off in a completely different direction, leading this whole other life. Like a gene mutation, I guess, and now I have legs instead of fins.

What's weird is that it's only because I was kicked out of church that I've been sitting in class every day listening to what Ms. Shepherd has to say. Otherwise I would have been like Teresa and Adam and Jesse and all the rest of them, facing the back wall, passing notes during class, purposely not paying attention.

And I have to be honest: sometimes what I hear is hard to take. My brain has been brought up to believe certain things—like the fact that God created us in His own image and that we're all descended from Adam and Eve. I've never had a reason to doubt that. I've never wanted to.

But then I hear the things Ms. Shepherd has been telling us, and I read what other scientists say, and I know in my heart and in my head that evolution is real, too. I have no doubt of that. There are too many facts to prove it.

So what does that mean for Genesis? Evolution says we're all descended from a common ancestor, too, but it doesn't exactly sound like Adam and Eve. So when did they come along? Were there already apes and other creatures, and then God picked us out to make us special? Or were we always planned from the beginning, human souls waiting until the time was right to be in human bodies that walked upright and used tools and could appreciate the Garden of Eden?