Going to the Chapel by Janet Tronstad Page A

says.
    “Turnabout is fair play. I’ll even put up with your Aunt Ruth—the one who you mentioned.” Now see, this is how it should be between Doug and me. We can both help each other out, especially now that we have the aunt thing between us. I know being raised by an aunt has left me a little insecure and I’m thinking Doug has had the same feelings, especially if he went from house to house trailing a suitcase behind him. At least I had the same closet for all those years.
    “My aunt lives in Texas now so it’s not about her, but you might not want to do this anyway,” he says.
    There’s enough hesitancy in his voice to make me stop and think. Okay, so what could it be? Something south of the border? Visiting really sick people who are contagious?
    The bus I am on has just pulled into a stop and is letting a couple of teenagers off. My stop will be here soon.
    “Is it legal?” I finally ask. “I don’t do nonlegal.”
    “Me, neither. This is a little strange, but definitely legal.”
    I can hear some bus noises on his side of the conversation so I give up my theory that he is driving himself to work. He’s bussing it the same way I am, which makes me like him even better. I always like people who don’t put on airs and it’s hard to put on airs on a Hollywood Metro bus. Especially because, if you did, people would just think you were practicing a movie role so it wouldn’t really do you any good since they would already know that you’re not one of the big stars since you’re riding the bus and no one even recognizes you.
    “I don’t have to dig a pit and cook a stuffed pig or anything like that, do I?” I ask. “I’m not a very good cook.”
    “No, nothing like that.”
    “Well, then, if I don’t have to dig any pits and there’s no Aunt Ruth, how bad can it be?”
    Doug pauses and then he almost whispers. “I need someone to go back to that rally with me.”
    I can picture him looking around the bus to make sure no one is listening to him, just as I’m looking now before I talk. “You mean that Billy Graham thing?”
    “Well, Billy Graham is not the guy speaking, but yeah, my aunt said it’s like a Billy Graham thing.”
    Doug’s voice slowly got back to normal.
    “Your aunt’s going? The one who went with you before?” I ask more as a stalling thing than because I have any reason to ask. Of course, his aunt is going if Doug is going. She’s probably the reason he’s going. Doug probably feels the same need I have to make his own auntglad she’d spent the effort to help raise him rather than let him go into some foster home. Maybe he even gets extra credit if he drags someone else along with him.
    “No, she’s gone back to San Diego. She doesn’t know I’m going to the place again.”
    I notice the girl in front of me has removed her earphones so I lower my voice. “Isn’t the reason for going to make your aunt happy? You’ll get extra points if she actually sees you there and doesn’t just hear you say that you’ve gone.”
    I’ve got to admit the thought of going with Doug to some religious rally makes me wish it was something involving a stuffed pig instead. Doug may be comfortable at some rally, but I would not be. I’ve gone many times to the same church in Blythe, but God and I have an understanding in that place. I leave Him alone and He leaves me alone. I don’t know what He would think if I showed up at a rally in the Hollywood Bowl. That’s a little—well, public—don’t you think?
    Doug says, “I’m not going there to get points with my aunt.”
    Okay, so now he’s really making me nervous.
    “Well, I don’t think you need a date for a rally,” I say, mentally inching myself away from the invitation. “Not if it’s anything like church.”
    “I don’t know if it’s like church. I’ve never been to church.”
    “Well, trust me, I’ve gone to church tons of times and you don’t need a date for the rally.”
    “Maybe not, but I need a