My Name Is Chloe (15 page)

Life’s been a busy blur these past few days, and I’ve been unable to write. So I’ll try to bring my diary up-to-date now. Lots has been going on, but it seems minor compared to what’s happened with Allie. Okay, I know this is confusing. I’d better start where I last left off.

I don’t think I slept more than two hours straight on Halloween night. I’d gotten more and more worried about Allie. And then I kept having these terrifying thoughts that led to some really bizarre and frightening dreams. Then I’d wake up and pray for her. By the next day, I was so tired and worried that I felt like I was moving through the twilight zone. I tried to call Allie before I went to school, but no one answered. And then she wasn’t anywhere to be seen at school. After choir I told Laura how freaked I was feeling.

“I know,” she said. “I’m really worried too. I got to thinking about everything last night and, let me tell you, I was really doing some frantic praying for that girl.”

“Yeah, me too. I just tried calling her house
again, and no one’s home.”

“Where could she be?”

“I don’t know. I was even thinking of calling her mom at work, but I probably shouldn’t.”

Laura seemed to consider this. “Maybe not. I suppose there could be a perfectly logical explanation for everything.”

Just then I saw Allie walking toward us. Man, I almost fell out of my chair as I leaped up to meet her.

“What happened to you?” I asked as I grabbed her. I didn’t even care how stupid I looked or sounded. “We’ve been totally freaked. Where did you go? Why weren’t you home?”

She just smiled.

“Allie?” I stared at her.

By then Laura had joined us. “What’s going on with you, Al?” she demanded. “What do you mean by running off like that last night. Don’t you know we were—?”

“Sorry.” Allie held up both hands. “Give me a break, will you? If you two could just chill for a minute, I might even explain.” She looked from Laura to me. “That is, if you really want to hear it.”

“Of course, we want to hear everything.” I led her to an empty table and the three of us sat down. “What is going on?”

Allie smiled again. And suddenly I thought,
okay, she’s flipping out on us. She’s probably gone off and joined some coven or occult thing, and we’re losing her completely now. Because honestly, I’d never seen such a goofy expression on her face. “Come on,” I urged her. “Can’t you see we’re dying here?”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Well, I was pretty bummed last night.”

“Because of me?” I asked.

“I thought that was it, but it wasn’t. It was because of me. Anyway, I got fed up and just took off and went outside for a smoke. Then once I was outside, I started walking.”

“In the rain?” asked Laura.

“Yeah, I was soaked within minutes. But I didn’t really notice it. I just kept walking. I didn’t even know where I was going. But it’s like something was pulling me—like a physical force, you know?”

I nodded.

“But it wasn’t a good force. It’s like it was pulling me toward something that was evil and dark—something that felt totally hopeless and destructive.”

Laura nodded now. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Allie eyed her curiously. “What do you mean?”

“When I was praying for you—”

“You were praying for me?”

“Yeah, I was really concerned.”

“Me too,” I chimed in. “I was so freaked I could hardly sleep at all last night.” I pointed to ray eyes. “See these dark shadows? They have your name written all over them.”

“I’m sorry.” She looked at both of us and actually seemed sorry. “Anyway, I remembered your story about going to the cemetery—”

“You went up to the cemetery?” I looked at her like she was crazy. “In the middle of the night—on Halloween?”

She nodded. “And I have to admit it was pretty scary, and I wondered what on earth I was doing up there. I mean, it’s like I almost don’t remember walking up there.”

“And?” demanded Laura. “What happened?”

“Well, I just walked around, and before long I was crying—actually sobbing, really. It’s like I was sadder than I’ve ever been before. I felt like giving up, like I really wanted to die. As if life was too hard and too disappointing and it was never going to get any better for me.” She looked down at her hands. “I know it sounds really melodramatic, but it’s the truth. I just wanted to end the pain.”

Laura reached over and put her hand on Allie’s arm. I wanted to do the exact same thing but thought it might look phony. “Then what happened?” I asked quietly.

“Well, it’s kind of embarrassing.” She looked
up at us again. “But I’ll tell you two—since you were praying for me. I actually laid down right on top of a grave—”

“You’re kidding?” Laura’s eyes grew wide. “You actually laid on a grave on Halloween night?”

Allie nodded. “I know it sounds totally bizarre. I don’t even know why I did it. It was stupid and weird and—” She slowly shook her head. “But it’s like I just wanted to die and be buried and over with. And I somehow thought that lying on the grave might actually kill me.”

Laura sighed. “Yeah, I think I would’ve died of fright.”

“How long did you lay there?”

She shrugged. “I don’t really know. It’s kind of like I went into a daze or fell asleep or something. But I came to and then I got really, really scared. I mean, like heart-about-to-burst scared. I’ve never been so terrified in my life. It’s like something evil was right there with me. I could feel it.”

I reached over and grabbed her arm. “
What did you do
?”

“I got up and just ran for my life.”

“Your apartment’s a long ways from there,” I said.

“Yeah. I was crying and running and thinking I was for sure going to keel over with a heart attack and die, and then I got to the street that
your church is on. And even though my house isn’t far away from there, it felt like miles. But there were lights on in the parking lot, and I saw Willy’s old car there. He was getting into it, and I just ran over there and literally started pounding on the hood of his car.”

“You’re kidding?” I stared at her in wonder.

“Yeah, I really freaked the poor guy out. He didn’t recognize me at first because I was such a mess. He told me later that he thought I was some kid tripping out on some bad acid or something.” She turned and looked at me. “Did you know that Willy had a history with LSD?”

I shook my head.

“Yeah, anyway, he let me into his car even though I was all muddy and gross and wet and then he asked me what was wrong.”

“What did you tell him?” asked Laura.

“I said I thought I was losing my mind. I told him what I’d done and then asked if he thought I was going crazy. He just laughed and said, ‘No way, I think you’re going sane.’ And then he said he thought that God was trying to get through to me, but that the devil was trying to mess things up. Then he told me about what happened to him back in the seventies after he’d gotten back from Vietnam. He had that thing the soldiers get where they have those horrible flashbacks to the war.”

“Post-traumatic stress syndrome?” I suggested.

“Something like that. Anyway, he started traveling with that rock band and experimenting with drugs, and it finally really messed up his head. He had an episode kinda like mine, only I’m guessing lots worse, where he thought he was going crazy too. But during that time he kept running into this guy named Brian who was a Christian, and Brian kept telling him how much God loved him. And finally, Willy said he just gave in to God and says that his life’s been on track ever since. He quit taking drugs cold turkey, and even though he still has flashbacks from the war occasionally, he prays his way through them and always asks God to teach him something through it.”

“Cool.” I squeezed Allie’s arm. “And?”

She smiled. “And … so, I did it too.”

“You invited Jesus into your heart?” Laura leaned over and peered into her face.

Allie nodded. “Yep, I did.”

Then, just as the warning bell rang, we all three jumped up and laughed and actually hugged and made total fools of ourselves as everyone else started heading back to class.

And so I’m thinking, doesn’t God have a great sense of humor? That He would save Allie on Halloween night. Isn’t that the greatest?

The next day we three jammed like we’ve never jammed before. And suddenly I’m thinking, hey,
why couldn’t we be a band? Maybe that’s exactly why God brought us together in the first place; maybe that’s what He had planned all along. Still, I’m not saying this out loud to anyone yet. I’m just praying that God will show us what’s right and lead us where we need to go. And I’m already booked at the Paradiso again during the week before Thanksgiving. I haven’t told Allie yet. Not that she’d react badly. But right now it’s cool just focusing on what’s happening with her life. And I’m trying to be a good friend.

I know, I know; I’ve been very negligent of my diary lately. But it’s only because so much is happening right now. I’ve been baby-sitting for Tony and Steph, jamming with Laura and Allie, practicing after school with our small ensemble group, and then going to church it seems every time the doors are opened (Allie cannot seem to get enough of it!). Whew!

And tonight I played again at the Paradiso Café. To a nice-sized crowd too. Even my parents and the Stephensens came. And to my surprise I was much more relaxed and at ease than the last time. Oh, I still got the butterflies in the stomach thing, but once I got going and just focused on my music, it went away. It was actually quite fun. And my parents and their friends seemed fairly impressed. Mr. Stephensen teaches music at the local college, and he thinks I’m pretty good. He told my dad I should consider recording a CD. And who knows, maybe I will. It would’ve been a perfect evening except for one thing.

“You know, you sounded really great up there, Chloe,” my mom said. But there was this little
catch in her voice. I could tell she wanted to say something else too.

“Thanks.” I leaned into the backseat and prepared myself.

“But maybe you should think about how you look up there too.”

Okay, there it was. “What do you mean, Mom?” I tried not to let defensiveness creep into my voice. This is a battle I’ve been trying to avoid since giving my heart to God.

“Oh, you know. Maybe you should think of doing something different with your hair—or maybe we could go shopping for some new clothes.”

“Mom, I like the way I look.”

The car got silent then.

“She looks like a performer,” my dad said as he pulled into the garage.

“I suppose.” But I could tell my mom wasn’t convinced. And this really bugged me.

Once we were inside, I set down my guitar and turned to my mom. “I don’t see why you can’t just accept me for who I am, Mom.” I held out my arms. “This is how I wanna look. This is Chloe Miller. No, it’s not Joy Miller, head cheerleader extraordinaire. But it’s who I am. And as far as I can see, it’s not going to change.”

She frowned. “But you look like a punk rocker, and your music isn’t like that.”

“You only heard one part of my music tonight.
You should listen in when Allie and Laura and I are jamming. It can get pretty wild up there.”

My dad laughed. “Yeah, the walls are usually thumping down here.”

“But maybe more people would be drawn to your music,” continued my mom, “if you looked more, oh, you know, mainstream.”

Well, fortunately that made me laugh. “Yeah, sure, it might draw more old people like you and Dad, but that’s not really who I’m aiming for.”

“Hey, who you calling old?” Dad pretended to be offended. “I grew up listening to the same kind of music that you’re imitating.”

I patted him on the back. “No offense, Dad, but you guys
are
my parents. You’re supposed to be a little out of the loop. That’s how we play the game, right?”

Still, I could tell my mom wasn’t convinced. In fact, I’m pretty certain she was mad as she turned around and acted as though she was absorbed with putting a couple of glasses into the dishwasher. So I just left and went to my room. I don’t know how to get through to her. To be honest, I don’t even understand her. She seems to be all about pretense and show and superficiality. And as much as I hate to admit it, those are traits I despise. And that makes me feel horribly guilty because she is my mother. But I don’t get why she’s like that. Why are appearances so important to her? More important
than people … I think. What’s really disturbing is to think she’s like so many of the shallow people (like Tiffany Knight) that I have such a hard time loving at school. Oh, God, help me!

I am really trying to act more mature—more like Jesus. Less judgmental and more loving. But it’s not always easy. Like yesterday.

Maybe it was a guilt trip, but somehow my mom talked me into going shopping with her after church—at the mall even. I really didn’t want to go, but she was so insistent—and hopeful. And as I said, I’m trying, really trying, not to be judgmental.