When the weather was nice, the adults liked to stand around after church and talk for what felt like hours. We kids would play games of tags among the parked cars, or pretend as it is sometimes called. This was the first night of revival so the older adults, those without kids, were grilling the evangelist. None of the other church kids were there, which meant that Robert and I had the evangelist’s kids all to ourselves. New kids were always exciting, since we didn’t get along that well with the kids at our church. They lived in another county, went to a different school district entirely, and we only saw them twice a week. Plus, they divided into two categories: the weird and the bratty. We never talked about it, or thought much about it, but we got along much better with other preacher’s kids. There was, as one would expect, an unspoken understanding between us. We didn’t stand around and talk about what a hard row we’d been given, or how nobody understood us, but there was an ease with other preacher’s kids. And Wallace and Kerry with two brothers about our age, so the match was near perfect.
Near, but not quite.
“It sure is hot.” Kerry said as we paused from jumping off the Great Stump on the edge of the parking lot. He started to roll the sleeves of his button up shirt up and stopped just below his elbow, glancing somewhat sheepishly at his older brother.
“Let’s play Batman and Robin.” Robert suggested. He was always quick to take charge, especially when he sensed he had an advantage and Wallace and Kerry seemed quite unsure of what to do in the situation. They had stood and looked on as we had ran about with the other kids, before they had to leave, and it was only when we were the only ones left that they reluctantly joined us in parachuting off the Great Stump.
“What’s that?” Wallace asked.
“You know,” I said, with the scathing only a 9 year old can show a peer “the t.v. show! You and Wallace can be Batman and Robin and me and Kerry can be Catwoman and the Joker.”
“We don’t watch t.v.” Wallace said, matter of factly. There was no hint of embarrassment or self consciousness in his voice. He pulled a folded white handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His skin was sticky from the stiff oil or cream or whatever that slicked his hair down to the scalp.
“Oh.” I wasn’t really shocked. One of the families in our church didn’t own a t.v. (one of the weird kids). I looked at Kerry and he was smiling a little uncertainly. “Well, o.k. Let’s play Star Wars!” EVERYONE knew Star Wars. This was for sure a safe bet. I mean, we didn’t see movies (though we had a t.v.) but you had to be living under a rock to not know what Star Wars was.
“We don’t know anything about it.” Wallace said.
“Well, you know what is, don’t you?” I stared hard at them both. Adults knew what Star Wars was. All the kids at school would have talked about it. They should have the action figures and the picture books of nothing else.
“Yeah,” Kerry spoke quickly. He seemed to have some enthusiasm for the idea. I think he mostly justed wanted to quit standing around. “It’s a movie. You’ll have to tell us about it, though.”
“Don’t the kids at school talk about it?” Robert astutely asked.
“We don’t go to school.” Kerry replied, with just a hint of longing in his voice. “Our mom teaches us at home.”
“All day?” Robert asked, the mix of horror and concern showing in his voice.
Wallace answered quickly, trying to sound enthusiastic but, lacking any real conviction, it just sounded a little self righteous. “We practicing singing, we read, we play games.”
“What kind of games?” I asked, feeling hopeful.
Wallace continued in his brave, faux happy voice. “Bible drills, Name the Apostle, Scripture Scavanger Hunt.”
I looked over at Robert with desperation on my face. Surely they didn’t expect us to do all that with them? We had it pretty tough, compared to a lot of kids at school, but hell, we got to watch t.v. Robert seized the faltering moment quickly, in that sly understated way he has.
“Star Wars is real cool. We’ll tell you all about it….”
