Small Town Sinners (22 page)

Ty isn’t in school on Monday, and I consider showing up at his house after classes—I’m not giving up on him—but then Dad calls a special Monday night Hell House rehearsal. We spread the word through our texting tree; each of us has to text two other YL members. He puts in a few understudies—one for me in Abortion, one for Graham Andrews in Domestic Violence, one for Ron Jessup in Cyberporn—so some of the primary cast can walk through and see the effect of the scenes from the audience’s perspective.

Starla Joy offers to be the Demon Tour Guide for the night, and I’m so proud of her as she gets into the role. Usually, the demons are all guys, so it’s a big deal that she got this part. She’s breaking boundaries. I make a mental note to tell Ty about that aspect of the show this year, how it’s progressive.

Gay Marriage is still powerful—though I cringe a little bit knowing that Ty feels the way he does about the issue, and I can’t help but let my mind wander to Dean again. I look over to where he’s watching. His hands are tucked into the pockets of a black sweatshirt, but his hood isn’t up, at least. His new haircut has been growing out, and I know he’s taking a little teasing because of the asymmetrical thing—the standard around here is pretty close cropped. But I’ve always been proud of Dean for being who he is. I don’t like thinking that he might be hiding something. I push that thought from my mind. Ty said himself that Dean was just an example. He’s not really … he can’t be.

After Mrs. Sikes takes her dying breath—which I think is a little overacted, to be honest—Starla Joy leads us into the choir room.

Domestic Violence is even better now that Dean has the breakable chair prop ready. He’s been using the art room at school to put together a lot of the props, and he painted the chair bright red to make it stand out in the white-walled room.

Cyberporn is hard to watch because the understudy, Brian Crosby, has to act really degenerate and simulate touching himself. “That’s right!” yells Starla Joy, egging him on. “Your perverted desires will lead you straight to hell, and you won’t be able to log off from what Satan has in mind for aberrations like you.”

When we get to Abortion, Starla Joy starts the lines that people hear in the hallway, on the way into the nursery, where my scene is staged.

“You’ve seen movies and read books about
young love
,” she growls. “I want you to believe in that! I want you to believe in that feeling, that rush of sick pleasure that goes through your body when you’re touched by impure thoughts!” Her voice is getting louder now, and she’s practically yelling at us. I hadn’t heard this lead-up to my scene performed, and I flash back, guiltily, to the night Ty and I were kissing in his car.

I wonder if Starla Joy is thinking of Tessa and Jeremy, of the way their relationship has gone. There
is
young love, isn’t there? It isn’t always wrong and dirty. Half of our parents were high school sweethearts. I try to catch her eye, but Starla Joy is too far gone. She’s in character, and she’s playing it well.

“Are you ready to see the
slut
?” she shouts, spit flying from the corners of her mouth. “Are you ready to witness a
whore
making a
choice
?”

I feel my chest tighten a little, and when we walk into the room, I see that the hospital bed has arrived. I watch Laura Bergen say my lines. “It’s my choice!” she’s screaming. “It’s my choice!”

“That’s right,” Starla Joy says, and now her demon voice is in full effect. She’s rasping and snarling. “Kill your baby. Sin and belong to
me
! It’s your
choice.
”

She hisses, and I can’t see anything of my friend in her eyes. She’s transformed. It’s a little shocking to see her this way. She’s always been bolder than I am, but I had no idea she had this kind of dramatic energy inside of her.

Watching the action from this side is intense. The doctor, Randy Miller, is running around while Laura lies dying on the table. Dean has a new kind of fake blood this year that he promises looks completely real. It will be dripping down my legs as I slowly die from the procedure. I mean, not me, Abortion Girl. Seeing Laura play the role makes me all the more determined to do it justice. She’s screaming, but it sounds softer than I want it to—I’m going to shriek like a banshee when I’m in that hospital bed.

Then there’s the drug scene, where a guy who’s become a junkie convinces his friends to shoot up with a needle. The script calls for the evil guy to be goth, with eyeliner and white powder on his face, but Dean objected to that and got Pastor Frist to agree that evil comes in many forms. “Regular-looking sinners are even more dangerous,” Dean argued, and everyone saw his point.

The drug scene is followed by Drunk Driving, which is the first outdoor scene. We’ll have a tent ready in case it rains, but the air in October is usually crisp and clear. We walk into the parking lot behind Starla Joy as she snarls, “Have another beer.” She’s facing Zack Robbins, who’s stumbling around like he’s been drinking a lot already, and Demon Starla Joy continues to entice him. “You’ll fit in. You’ll be cool. You’ll be one of
us
.” Then she cackles maniacally, and we watch as Zack gets behind the wheel of a car with two friends in it.

This was the scene I was originally cast in, and Jessica Thatcher is now in my role as the drunk guy’s girlfriend. She’s in the front seat, laughing and smiling until the moment that Zack acts out driving into a tree. Everyone in the car screams, jerking forward and backward, and the sound of breaking glass startles me. I didn’t know that part was ready yet, but I look over at Dean and smile. “I have some of the audio rigged early,” he says, and I can see he’s really proud of his work.

Suicide is the scene we see right before heading into the Judgment part. We’re out in the parking lot, and Geoff is just as powerful as he was when I saw him the other night. He’s shaking with pain. I lock eyes with Starla Joy and I know she sees it too—how good he is, how right this part is for him. She says her lines to him. “Your parents hate you, you’re a bottom feeder, you’re trash. No one loves you. Where’s your Jesus now?”

Geoff writhes and cries, holding the shaking gun up to his head. Starla Joy screams, “Do it!” and there’s the sound of a single gunshot. Maryanne Duane jumps again, but the rest of us were ready for it. Geoff slumps over onto the sidewalk, and we hear the sound of loud hand clapping coming from the back of the parking lot.

“That’s my boy!”

It’s Mr. Parsons, Geoff’s dad. As he walks toward us and into the light, everyone can see that he’s stumbling drunk, his car keys jingling in his hand.

I hear Ron and Graham whisper back and forth nervously. “What’s he doing here?” asks Ron.

Geoff looks up at his dad, and I think I see fear in his face. No one moves.

“I liked that, boy!” shouts Mr. Parsons, clamping a hand on Geoff’s shoulder. Then he clenches his teeth and growls, “I like you telling the world how useless you are.”

Maryanne gasps, but the rest of us just stay frozen.

“Dad, come on,” Geoff says, standing up. “Let’s just go home, okay?”

He reaches for the keys, but his dad jerks his hand out of reach. “You get your grubby hands away from my car!” shouts Mr. Parsons.

“Dad, please,” Geoff says. And I can hear the desperation in his voice, see it in his eyes as he looks around and knows we’re all watching, seeing, listening.

I knew there was something going on with Mr. Parsons, like that he’s gotten into trouble at the local bar a few times and that he’s not usually at church on Sundays, just sometimes, like on Easter. But now that I’m seeing it, what it really is, I feel a wave of sympathy wash over me. I look to my right, where Dean is standing. I can tell he’s feeling it too.

There isn’t another adult out here—no one’s sure what to do. I look to Starla Joy, but she’s just watching them.

I hear the back door of the church open and I see the outline of Pastor Frist’s figure. He must be coming out to see why we haven’t moved on to the next scene. I watch him scan the parking lot, and he sees what’s going on instantly.

“Jimmy Parsons!” he says, jovial as always. He walks over to Geoff and Mr. Parsons and puts an arm around “Jimmy.”

“Pastor Frist,” says Mr. Parsons. “I’m gonna drive my boy home now. It’s time for him to come home.”

Geoff stares at the ground like the blacktop of the parking lot is the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

“The kids have rehearsal now,” Pastor Frist says. “Let’s go get a cup of coffee in the lobby. How does that sound? A nice cup of coffee.”

Mr. Parsons lets Pastor Frist lead him inside, and Pastor Frist nods at Starla Joy as he passes her. “Keep going,” he says.

I look back at Geoff, still staring at the ground.

“Now you will face your judgment!” howls Starla Joy, and I jump a little, not quite ready to get back into Hell House. But Geoff follows along with us, I guess to see the rest of the show, and I see Dean nod at him as they pass. Geoff just stares ahead, looking hollow.

Little Tate Jenkins, a seven-year-old who’ll be dressed as an angel, motions for us to come inside, into the crafts room, which has been staged as the judgment scene.

Vivian Moss is in this part—she’s playing Saint Peter at the pearly gates. A senior, Joey Turner, had been cast originally, but he’s had some trouble with his grades, and his parents punished him by making him give up Hell House. I think Pastor Frist was nervous about casting a woman as Saint Peter, but Ty’s aunt has charmed everyone and she was happy to step into the role. She has a giant book of names in front of her as she stands at a pulpit set up among the tables full of glue and glitter. Dean will move those on show night, of course, and white curtains will be hung on the door on the left side of the room. The door on the right is covered in black garbage bags, and red light leaks out from underneath it—that’s the entrance to Hell.

Vivian stands at the pulpit with her reading glasses on, wearing a shirt that says
I
♥ BOOKS. Though she’s not dressed for it, she’s fully in her role, glancing at each of us as we walk into the room and line up in a row along a blue piece of tape on the floor.

“This is the Lamb’s Book of Life,” Vivian says ominously. “It contains a list of all the names of people who’ve accepted Jesus as their Lord and Savior.” She pauses. “Is
your
name in this book?”

“As I say your name, please step forward,” she says. The Demon Tour Guide, Starla Joy, has fallen silent. That’s her role in the more godly scenes—it’s supposed to symbolize how her strength weakens in God’s presence. Then Vivian begins to read from a piece of paper, and she says each of our names out loud. “Lacey Anne Byer,” she reads, and her eyes sit on me. She stares extra long at each person when they step forward, and then after we’ve all been called, she pauses for what feels like an hour, looking at each one of us individually.

This is the part in the show where people start to get really squirmy. They’ve seen all the sins—which is exciting and kind of cool in a gruesome way—but now they’re being stared down by God’s representative.

I get a chill as her eyes fix on me.

Finally, Vivian says, “It is not your time today.” She points to the door to Hell and continues, “But when it is your time, the choices you have made on this earth will affect your afterlife for eternity. Choose wisely.”

She walks to the door on the left, where the white curtains will hang on show night, symbolizing her exit to Heaven.

We watch her go, and then suddenly I feel my father’s hand on my shoulder. I almost jump, though I should have known that was next.

“Come with me, little darlings,” he says, using the voice he’s perfected over the years, Satan’s sound.

We walk through black garbage bags hung over the entrance into Hell, also known as the Sunday school room. Dean isn’t quite done with the staging, but the usually cheerful kids’ area is definitely transformed already. There’s a red light pulsating in the corner, and the walls are draped in black paper. Chains hang from the ceiling, some with lost souls attached, and the stereo system is playing a continuous track of screaming and moaning to set the mood. There’s also a space heater that, judging by the massive heatwave that hit me as I walked through the door, is working overtime. I start to sweat.

My dad parts the crowd and goes to stand in the corner, and though he’s not in full makeup, he does have on his hooked nose extension and the long nails he likes to wear as the devil. He uses them to creep people out by dragging them along cheeks and shoulders, and it’s so disturbing that sometimes kids shake when he gets close to them.

“Some of you know where you are,” my father says, his voice deeper and darker than I remember it sounding even last year. “Make no mistake. This is the
gate to hell.
”

He throws up his arms and pauses for dramatic effect before continuing.

“This is my domain, where I have the ultimate power over you because you have stolen, you have lusted, you have coveted, you have
sinned
… and I know everything. Your actions, your deeds, your thoughts—there’s nothing I didn’t see. You turned away from Jesus, and I am what you turned to. Welcome to hell!”