Going to the Chapel by Janet Tronstad Page B

friend.”
    “Oh.” I don’t know what to say to that so I clear my throat.
    He keeps talking. “It’s tonight. I was going to call you later today. I didn’t want to ask too far ahead of time because I didn’t want you to worry about going.”
    “I’m not worried.”
    “Good. I thought you might be a little afraid to go to something like that. Some people are.”
    “I’m not afraid. Well, maybe a little. But not like walking into a deserted house in the dark scared.”
    I hope I’m telling Doug the truth on this one. I tell myself I’m not afraid really. I might be very, very nervous. But that’s different, isn’t it?
    “So you’ll go?” Doug says. “I could meet up with you at the coffee shop after work and we could have something to eat before the rally.”
    I take a deep breath and remind myself that he is the only date I am likely to get for Elaine’s wedding. “Sure, that works.”
    The deep breath helps. Either that or it completely rattles my brain because it suddenly occurs to me that going to that rally might be just the thing I need to do. Unlike Doug, I’d be willing to use this one for aunt approval. Maybe Aunt Inga will be so pleased with me for going to something like that on my own that she won’t be quite so disappointed when I tell her that we have to look for another location for Elaine’s wedding.
    “Is this like an anthropology interest—this going back to the rally again?” I say to Doug. If I can understand why he’s going, I might be better with it all. “Do you want me to take pictures? Do they have any strange rituals they do?”
    I am not saying that some people wouldn’t go to a rally like this just because they wanted to go. But thoseare mostly people who go to church all the time. Doug doesn’t have anything to do with a church.
    “Well,” he says, “they pass around a big basket and people put money in it. That’s kind of primitive. I suppose. I was surprised there were no debit cards or anything. Just checks and cash. I even saw a hundred-dollar bill.”
    “You do know you can’t reach in and take money out when the basket comes by,” I say. “That’s why they always have big guys passing the basket around. They keep watch over it.”
    “I know the rules. I know you can’t take money out of the basket.”
    “Good, because the passing-for-money thing is something all churches do.”
    We’re both quiet a minute before Doug talks again. “I just seem to keep thinking about what the guy said. I can’t get it all out of my head. Finally, I decided the only thing to do is to go back and make sure I heard him right.”
    “So, it’s sort of a fact-finding thing?”
    Doug nods. “Yeah, you could say that.”
    “I’ll take notes for you then.” This could work. I’d willingly take notes at a dozen rallies to have a date for Elaine’s wedding. Besides, Doug has already met the family so Aunt Ruth won’t surprise him again. Plus, there’s something to be said for continuity when it comes to fake boyfriends. It makes them more believable in the part.
    “Notes are good. That way I can just listen,” Doug says.
    “Well, then I’ll see you after work at the coffee shop.”
    The bus is pulling to a stop again and this one is mine. After Doug says goodbye, I stand up to get off.
    I wait until I am out of the bus to put my cell phone back in its holder and I see that I got a message while I was talking to Doug. I press the button and hear Aunt Inga’s voice reminding me that she will be praying all morning that Mr. Z will answer our prayers.
    I don’t like to think of Aunt Inga praying all morning about anything. It is too stressful. So I call her back. Aunt Inga doesn’t answer so I leave a message on her machine telling her I haven’t spoke to Mr. Z yet but that I’m going to a Billy Graham kind of a rally tonight. I also mention that if we can’t use the chapel at where I work, there are a lot of places to get married. People even have weddings