Spirits

By Michael Jesse

Chapter 5

Jack sat idling in the gravel parking lot of the abandoned church, trying to decide which way to go. Turning right would be the route back to town, or he could go left to go farther out into the countryside. He chose left and put the top down.

They always went to Camp Coshocton in July for church camp. The campgrounds consisted of two perpendicular rows of cinderblock rooms, like a motel, except the individual rooms had no plumbing. The men’s and women’s restrooms and showers were at opposite ends of each row, thus ensuring that the genders were as far as possible from each other when they disrobed. The dining hall was at the narrow end of the two rows, and out in the middle was the Tabernacle, which was essentially a rustic auditorium without walls. It was just a roof and simple bench pews and a clapboard pulpit where every night the preachers would light up the congregation and save souls by the dozens.

Going to church camp was like a Revival week that was also a sleepover, but as with regular church, the teenagers did their best to ignore the fiery sermons and focused on adventure and romance. Parents typically stayed in one room with their youngest children while the older boys and girls bunked four to a room. The parents knew that left to their own devices, the teenagers would find a way to intermingle when they weren’t supposed to, and that such intermingling could lead to fornication. To prevent this, a few of the fathers would patrol the grounds after curfew. Brother Larry was the main guard, and as the kids settled into their beds for the night, they would hear the clopping of his cowboy boots and the jingle of his keys. He would call out, “Goodnight, ladies” or “goodnight, gentlemen” as he passed their open windows, and they would call out, “Goodnight, Brother Larry.”

That was as close as things got to a headcount, and to the extent that Brother Larry checked the whereabouts of specific kids, it was the older teens he wanted to account for. That made it easier for younger kids like Darryl and Johnny to be overlooked, but they still had to get past him. Like bank robbers planning a heist, the boys considered the options. They could hide under a car or up in a tree until Brother Larry went to bed, but they didn’t know how late he stayed out, so they might be stuck for hours. They decided it would be better to just slip off of the campgrounds before the curfew bell even started ringing, but a chain link fence surrounded the grounds and across the street, there were only cornfields and the dilapidated remains of a long-blank drive-in movie sign.

The sign offered their best option, so that evening Darryl and Johnny casually slipped farther and farther out among the parked cars, their pockets stuffed with candy bars and potato chips from the snack bar. Running crouched down like combat soldiers on TV, the boys zig-zagged out to the road and then dashed across the asphalt to the shelter of the old sign. Hiding under it, they broke out their food and had an outlaw picnic. There was a partial moon, but the sky was overcast as they stood underneath the old sign, trying to decide what to do next. In the filtered moonlight, Johnny could make out some odd shapes on a shelf. He picked one up and discovered it was a giant plastic letter K. The marquis letters from the old drive-in movie sign were still there. This was an opportunity they could not let pass. It was Darryl who came up with what to say. He climbed up the sign, and Johnny tossed letters up to him, spelling out “GOOD MORNING BROTHER LARRY.”

Jack drove past the entrance to Camp Coshocton twice before recognizing it. The land across the road had been completely developed into a housing subdivision, but the campground property itself was virtually unchanged. He pulled his Lebaron into the gravel driveway and parked on the grass. There were no other cars, and he saw no one on the property, but it was well-kept and seemed still in use, though not on that particular day. He got out of the car and walked farther down the drive. The two rows of cinderblock rooms were still there, as was the tabernacle. He took a seat at one of the pews and looked out across the lawn.

The summer when he was 15, Johnny took a camera to church camp and went around taking pictures of everyone. Half the time, he did not actually take the picture, but just held up the camera and pretended to click. He needed to save his film for his true purpose -- taking pictures of Millie. She was 18 and going off to college in the fall, and he knew he would hardly see her at all then. He had a school picture of her on the back of which she’d written in loopy cursive “To a nice boy that I really like, love Millie!” with a heart dotting the “i” in her name. He knew she probably wrote similar things on photos she gave everyone else. He could feel the energy that came from her, and he believed that she did indeed love him, but he knew it was the same love she felt for everyone. He was no one special to her.

Maybe not now, he told himself, because of their age difference, but in the future things could be different. Three years would not mean as much when they were grown-ups. That such a future might potentially exist was something he prayed for whenever he went to the altar. First, he always prayed for forgiveness for thinking lustful thoughts about Millie, and then — when he was briefly pure again — he asked God to let him be with Millie someday. As long as she didn’t get married, there was a chance, and he prayed for that chance to be so.

Millie would smile at him when he took her picture, but she was always arm in arm with her boyfriend, Steve, whom Johnny did his best to keep out of the frame. On the first night of camp at dinner, Johnny started out sitting with the Jenkins family, but Millie and Steve were across the dining hall. Johnny consumed his food even faster than usual and then walked around the tables pretending to take pictures. He didn’t look directly at her, but worked his way towards Millie. She was near a window, and the early evening light falling on her pale bare shoulders was perfect.

Johnny raised his camera but saw nothing through the viewfinder because someone had just stepped in front of him. He looked over his camera to see a girl with braided pigtails and pointy-framed glasses. “Take a picture of me,” she demanded.

“Um, okay,” Johnny said, and then took five or six real pictures as she made faces and posed. As he did so, he positioned himself to get Millie in the background.

The girl’s name was Debbie, and by the next day, she had become his first girlfriend. She made all of the moves -- showing up next to him wherever he went and sitting next to him in church. She held his hand during the service and afterwards walked with him to the snack bar where they shared a “Suicide,” a drink made of a squirt of each kind of pop from the soda fountain. The snack bar was run by Sister Florence, who incongruously had an English accent (having married an American soldier during World War II). She called most of the kids variations of “loov” and “dearie,” while redheads like Millie were called “ginger.”

Debbie led Johnny away from the lights to the grassy parking area near the road. Weaving among the cars, she chose one and opened the door to its back seat. The dome light came on briefly as they got in, but went out again when Johnny pulled the door closed behind him. She kissed him, her mouth tasting like bubble gum. Then the tabernacle bell was ringing, calling everyone to the evening prayer. It was also the first curfew bell so Debbie and Johnny made their way back to their rooms as on the PA speakers the preacher prayed that we would all sleep well and that if we should die before we wake . . . then we’d better make sure we’re right with God before we close our eyes to avoid the eternal fires of Hell.

The next morning, as he was walking to breakfast, Johnny saw Millie running towards him, waving excitedly. At least it looked like she was waving to him, but he didn’t react because he couldn’t be sure she wasn’t waving at someone behind him. But then she was standing right in front of him, her eyes on him alone, saying how cute he and Debbie looked together. As if by the mention of her name, Debbie materialized beside him and squeezed his hand. From their combined and overlapping chatter, Johnny learned that the two were second cousins and roommates at camp. Millie scampered off again to greet someone else just as excitedly. Johnny suddenly resented Debbie for being a year younger than him because it made him seem younger in Millie’s mind. He didn’t want her to think it was cute that he was with another girl.

Debbie was persistent and resourceful at finding places for them to kiss. This was the part of having a girlfriend that Johnny liked the most. One day, Debbie orchestrated a time to be alone with him in the room she shared with Millie and the other girls. Everyone had gone to the afternoon rejoice service, which was all singing and no preaching or altar call, but Debbie kept him from leaving and gave him a backrub on one of the two beds, and all the while Johnny wondered if this was the bed Millie slept in. There were four girls and two beds, so there was a 50/50 chance. He wondered if perhaps Millie and Debbie shared this bed.

“Roll over,” Debbie told him, and when he did, she kissed him. They kissed for a long while, during which the image of Debbie and Millie in bed together kept appearing in his mind. After a while, Debbie stood up and said she needed to go to the bathroom but couldn’t go out the door without risking being seen from the tabernacle. Instead, she climbed out the window, flashing her white panties as she did so.

Johnny was alone in a room where girls slept -- Millie in particular. Like a spy, he carefully opened drawers and examined the feminine clothing he found inside. In one drawer, he found a notebook with doodles on the cover. He flipped through the pages, recognizing Millie’s handwriting from the school photo. It was a journal! Sometimes her handwriting was large and sometimes it was small, but it was always loopy and scribbly as if there was never enough time to record what she was trying to say. He read a few words here and there about school and boyfriends and church, but then his eye stopped when he saw the word “naked.” It stood out because she had underlined it three times and inked in each letter of the word until it was thick and boldface. Expecting Debbie to return any moment, Johnny hurriedly tried to read the sentence leading up to that word. It said, “I ran outside naked in the rain.” He tried to read more, but he heard Debbie at the window and hurriedly stuffed the notebook back into the drawer. Johnny was safely reclining on the bed again before Debbie made it through the window, and they kissed some more before afternoon service ended.

Johnny knew what he must do, but that required getting away from Debbie, which wasn’t easy short of having a bowel movement. But she was in the youth choir and had to get to evening service a little early to rehearse. Johnny walked her to rehearsal and then pretended to take pictures as she sang. Then he waved and went down the aisle towards the back of the tabernacle and stepped out at the end. The bell was ringing, and people were streaming inside.

“Going the wrong way, loov,” said Sister Florence as they passed each other.

“I forgot . . . my Bible,” Johnny said and hurried away. Technically, he noted internally to any celestial powers that might be keeping score, that was not a lie.

Johnny ran towards the room he shared with Darryl and some other boys, but then he cut to one side and ran around to the back of the long building. No one could see him now from the tabernacle. It took him a while to find the right window, but he recognized the curtains, and it was still open from when Debbie had come through it. With a quick glance to make sure no one was around, Johnny climbed through the window.

Opening the drawer again, he removed the spiral journal and opened it to lay flat in the light from the window. He raised his camera and focused on the page, snapping the shot. He turned the page and continued efficiently at his task, pausing once to put in a new roll of film and another time when he again saw the words “I ran outside naked in the rain.” He allowed himself a moment to read the next sentence: “I rolled in the grass and then lay on my back and I felt each raindrop splash against my skin.” Johnny wanted to read more, but he was disciplined and stuck to his plan. When he had photographed the final page, he placed the notebook back in Millie’s drawer exactly where he had found it. Then he was out the window and running along the back of the long building, his heart pounding in victory.

On the last night of church camp, the preacher seemed determined to save one last batch of souls and wasted no time getting to the Hell and damnation portion of his sermon. Johnny worried he’d probably committed another sin snooping at Millie’s journal, but he couldn’t recall that sin being specifically talked about in the Bible. He figured it must be with whatever scriptures covered going to the movies and playing cards.

The Jenkins clan of teenagers and their camp boyfriends and girlfriends always sat in the back rows of the tabernacle near one of the exits. Because there were no doors, it was easy to come and go, though Brother Larry and other parents tended to keep his eye on things.

In the row in front of Johnny and Debbie sat Steve, Millie’s boyfriend, but next to him was only an empty space on the bench. Johnny looked around, hoping to see her sitting elsewhere (because that might mean they’d broken up), but the only redheads he saw were her sisters. His eye caught a flash of orange-red in the sun, and there was Millie, running through the grass barefoot. He heard her distinctive squealing giggle over the voice of the preacher coming out of the speakers above his head. As she bounded up the wooden steps and into the tabernacle, Johnny saw that her hair and skin were wet as if she had just come in out of the rain, though the night was clear.

She wiggled into the pew in front and plopped down next to Steve in a whirl as droplets from her hair sprayed around her, some of them landing on Johnny’s skin. He wished he could preserve them. She leaned in to whisper in Steve’s ear. “I was taking a shower and realized I was late and had to hurry up, but then I realized I also forgot my towel, so I had to put on my dress even though I was all wet! Isn’t that funny?” On the stage, the preacher asked everyone to stand as they sang “Softly and Tenderly Jesus is Calling” to begin the altar call. Millie was directly in front of him, the back of her sun dress completely wet and clinging to the precise shape of her behind. Johnny saw no evidence of panties. The preacher’s voice from the ceiling told him he would surely burn in Hell for having lustful thoughts, but he had them anyway.

“I’m going to miss you when church camp is over,” Debbie whispered into his ear as she squeezed his hand.