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Chapter 8: First Day Of School
A novel about
life behind the scenes for an evangelical pastor's family: in the church, the
parsonage, the community.
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Debra blinked back tears
as she watched Jessi trudge up the road toward Wesley Drive and the bus stop.
I know it would sound corny if I said it out loud, but this hurts me more than
it does you. She and Jim had both offered to take her in to the high school
but Jessi could be very strong minded at times and this was one of those times.
She declared she wasn't a baby any more and didn't need Mommy and Daddy looking
after her every minute. And that was that.
The twins had long ago
forgotten their misgivings about moving and were actually looking forward to
going to a new school and meeting new kids. In fact, they had made some new
friends yesterday in Sunday school who went to the same elementary school they
would be attending. Right now both were in the powder room off the kitchen,
jostling for position at the sink as they brushed their teeth.
Ben had inherited his Dad's
ability to brush his teeth and talk at the same time. "Mom, when Shelly
spits, it goes all over the place, even on the mirror."
"I can spit as good
as you can."
"Can not!"
"Can too!" And
then a new song was heard. "Mom, make Ben leave. I need my privacy."
"I was here first.
You can get your privacy up stairs."
Debra was tempted to remind
them they had taken communal baths until they were too old to fit into the tub
together. Then she had a better idea. "Ben, did you know there's a lavatory
down stairs, off the family room? Have you tried that one yet?"
That idea appealed to Ben
and he thundered down the stairs to check out the new facility.
Finally the twins were
ready to leave for their first day of school at the Shepherdstown Elementary
School. Breakfast was done, faces were washed, teeth were brushed, and each
had visited the necessary room. And, Ben insisted that the hugging and kissing
take place in the privacy of his own kitchen. "I don't want no kids at
school seeing me getting kissed in broad daylight"
"Mommy, what's broad
daylight?" Shelly wanted to know.
"Outside where other
people can look at you," explained Debra. Shelly looked like she was about
to pursue the issue with a question about "broad nightlight" since
she rarely asked just one question on a given topic. Debra forestalled that.
"Okay, everybody ready for the new school?"
"Yep," said the
twin in unison, smiling and nodding. Debra glanced at the stove controls to
make sure the burners were off and then ushered them through the connecting
door to the garage and into the Eagle. As she pulled out onto Wesley Drive,
she noticed there were no high school kids at the bus stop.
"Hey, kids. Let's
pray, shall we? Our prayer topics this morning can be Dad in his new office,
and Jessi at her new school, and you at your new school, too." And me with
all those boxes! On such a gray, misty day. "Who wants to pray first?"
Debra watched the road
while the twins prayed in turn. Both had been praying since they learned to
talk. Jessi, the little rascal, had even taught them a night-time parody which
Ben had been fond of quoting in front of church members. How did that go?. Now
I lay me down to sleep, with my Ford parked in the street. If I die before I
wake, I pray the Lord will set the brake. Where do kids come up with this stuff?
Quickly Debra refocused
on the twins' prayers, and joined with them in spirit as God's blessings, the
direction of the Holy Spirit, and the protection of the Holy Angels were invoked
on everyone's behalf during the day's activities.
All three Hogans were a
little startled to find that the new teacher was a man. Somehow, Debra had always
associated first grade with a woman. But, Mr. Hutton was neat, personable, and
very professional. Both Ben and Shelly seemed instantly impressed.
On the way back to the
parsonage, the mist became a cold drizzle. Debra was thankful it wasn't cold
enough to freeze on the roads. She decided to leave the Eagle in the driveway
so she would have better access to the boxes which were stacked up on both sides
of where the car had been parked. In fact, the garage was so filled with boxes,
The Chief had to spend the night outside. Probably would for the next several
nights, too, until things got organized.
Since the Hogans had lived
in the same house in Ashtabula for twenty five years, they had accumulated an
enormous amount of flotsam and jetsam. A sizable contribution to the local land
fill and a three-week garage sale had gotten rid of quite a bit but much still
needed to be moved.
The garage sale had been
kind of fun. Jim had given the garage a good sweeping and then set up the Ping
Pong table and several card tables to hold a wide range of household items,
toys, tools, and books. Small adhesive labels with prices were put on each item
and the labels were color coded. White meant the item was not the personal property
of one of the kids. Jessi's things had pink labels, Ben's had blue, and Shelly's
had yellow.
They had run an ad in the
"Valley Shopper" and put posters on the bulletin boards of several
area super markets. In addition, Jim had lettered a four-foot square of plywood
on both sides with "Garage Sale" and an arrow pointing to the garage.
The sign was placed at the edge of the lawn where it could be seen by people
driving by.
Jim had also rigged an
automatic signal for the breezeway door which buzzed in the downstairs hall
when a customer entered. The kids were the sales force. If someone sold a white-tag
item, that person could keep the money. Of course, the money from colored items
went to the original owner. Fortunately it had been a very mild February. By
keeping the overhead door closed and the quartz heater on, the garage hadn't
been too cold for the kids to handle money. Since all the prices were in multiples
of twenty-five cents, the twins were able to catch on to making change, with
a little coaching from Jessi. By the time they closed down the garage sale,
Debra estimated they had cleared almost four hundred dollars.
But what hadn't been sold
or given away or taken to the land fill had to be put in boxes. One of the members
worked for IBM and his family had moved around quite a bit. He and his wife
had shared several moving tips with the Hogans.
The first tip had been
to use only boxes which have been used to ship paper, the kind with the fitted
lids which slip down over the top. Another member of the church had owned a
print shop and he provided all the paper boxes they needed and then some. The
second tip had been to allow no one outside the immediate family to help with
packing boxes. The next tip was to carefully mark the unlabeled end of the box
with its exact contents. Break these two rules, the IBM man had warned, and
you won't see some of your most cherished possessions until the rapture.
Jim had contributed a couple
of his own ideas to the moving effort. He sketched plans of all three floors
of the tri-level and then marked each room with a simple designation, such as
kitchen, living room, dining room, and family room. Then each box lid was marked
with its destination in the new parsonage in Mechanicsburg. However, as they
got down toward the end of the packing, more and more boxes had been destined
for the garage.
Now Debra stared at all
the boxes which had ended up in the garage and she was more than a little depressed.
Suddenly she realized that the movers had made a mistake and left one of Jessi's
boxes in the garage. It seemed light, probably one of several which contained
stuffed animals. She decided to carry it up Jessi's bedroom. Had to start somewhere.
Jessi's room was the only
normal place in the whole house, even though the moving van had pulled away
less than thirty-six hours earlier. The first thing she had done was hook up
her stereo and unpack her CDs. Then she had worked like a beaver throughout
Saturday afternoon and early evening, while enjoying the sounds of Mylon, and
DeGarmo & Key, and Petra, and White Heart. Jessi sure did love her music.
Jessi couldn't remember
having been more miserable. At the bus stop, no one had said a word to her.
All the other kids stood in clumps and talked to each other but she could have
been a telephone pole. A misty rain had started to fall before the bus came
and her spiral perm was kinking up. When she got on the bus and started to walk
to the back, which is the universally-accepted province of juniors and seniors,
she found to her embarrassment there wasn't a single seat available back there.
She ended up in a front seat next to a pimple-faced seventh-grade boy who had
repaired his horn-rim glasses with a bent pin. Of course he wouldn't slide over
and she had to clamber across his gangly legs. And then he kept leaning against
her, even when centrifugal force didn't justify it.
The day didn't get any
better when the bus arrived at the Mechanicsburg Area High School. Both Jim
and Debra had offered to drive her to school and make sure she got registered
all right but Jessi hadn't been feeling real close to either parent since the
final decision to leave Ashtabula. So she had insisted that she was perfectly
capable of catching the bus with everyone else and registering herself when
she got there.
When she finally found
the office and presented her Ashtabula transcript at the counter, no one was
available with the necessary authority to take care of the paper work. Her first
thirty minutes at her new high school consisted of serving as department store
mannequin on a bench in the office. Or maybe a statue. Teachers and students
came and went but no one so much as glanced in her direction. She wished the
place had pigeons. At least they paid attention to statues.
At eight-thirty, an assistant
principal sauntered in, declared he didn't handle new students either, but did
invite her into his office to get better acquainted until the guidance counselor
came. No sooner did she get settled in the assistant principal's office when
his phone rang. For the next twenty minutes by the clock, he went round and
round with a parent about a bus stop while Jessi sat miserably in his small
cubicle of an office.
Finally Mr. Book, the guidance
counselor arrived and led the way down a short hall within the office complex
to an even smaller cubicle of an office. Mr. Book was kindly, balding, and wore
half spectacles through which he seldom if ever looked. But his corny humor
did make Jessi feel a little better. The counselor was visibly impressed with
the grades on the transcript and with the extent of her extracurricular activities.
She assured him she would like to continue to be in band and chorus. However,
there was no computer club and that was disappointing.
At long last her schedule
card was completed and she was a full-fledged student in the Mechanicsburg Area
School District. By now, though, first period was over and the clock was well
into second period. Mr. Book hastily scribbled a hall pass for second period,
which was English 3, and gave her a locker assignment card along with padlock
and key. Mr. Book would have escorted her to both the locker and the second
period class but two other students were already waiting in the hall to talk
to him so she said she could find her way okay.
"Don't worry about
anything in that locker. The kid who had it moved to California last week,"
advised Mr. Book. "Just chuck it all."
The locker was a disaster.
The things in it which were recognizable included three foul gym socks, one
equally-foul sneaker, a stained athletic supporter, and an unsharpened pencil.
Somehow, the unused pencil fit in with the rest of the locker contents and she
almost smiled. She put her coat back on to have a place to hang it, slung her
purse over her shoulder, put her notebook under one arm, and then used the pencil
to fish out the soiled clothing and deposited each item one by one in a nearby
trash can. Oh how she longed for Ashtabula Junior-Senior High School and the
neat-as-a-pin locker which had been hers since seventh grade. Carefully she
hung her suede leather jacket on a bent hook, hoping it wouldn't fall to the
bottom of the filthy locker. There was a Slurpy cup down there complete with
some sort of sticky substance which was have been its contents. With a sigh,
she closed the locker door, snapped the padlock, and trudged down the hall to
English 3, which would dismiss in less than fifteen minutes.
The English teacher never
missed a beat in his monologue about dangling participles. He just strolled
back to the rear seat Jessi had taken, tucked her hall pass in his shirt pocket,
and kept right on talking.
By the end of fifth period,
with two more periods to go, the only person who had spoken to Jessi as a real
person, instead of just another student, was Mr. Book, the guidance counselor
who had registered her.
Her non-person status ended
with her sixth period class, health. The teacher appeared to be a yuppie in
her late twenties who wrote her name on the board at the beginning of the period
as Ms. Carter-Clarke. Later she learned that all the kids called her CeeCee.
Right away Jessi learned the class was part way through a unit on sex education.
The text was titled "Experiencing Sex and Life".
The feature of the day
was a look-alike acquaintance of Ms. Carter-Clarke's named Ms. Hockinger. Ms.
Hockinger represented the local Planned Parenthood chapter and was speaking
to each period on the topic of modern birth control. After a few words of introduction,
Ms. Carter-Clarke sat in the back of the room grading papers while Ms. Hockinger
held forth on the virtues of safe sex and related matters.
Jessi had known the facts
of reproduction and birth control from the day she asked her first probing question
at the ripe age of two. Her mother had answered that question in simple but
biologically-accurate terms. The same had been true of each succeeding question,
whether asked of her mother or her father. And with each answer about sex had
come a value system based on the Biblical absolute that sex is reserved for
a man and woman within the bounds and bonds of a legal marriage. And within
marriage, totally fulfilling sex is completely natural and blessed by God.
Ms. Hockinger was coming
from the opposite end of the spectrum. "The old, Victorian taboos about
sex are gone forever," she intoned. "A modern teen has to worry about
two things and no more. Number one, prevent pregnancy; number two, prevent disease.
Beyond that, you should feel perfectly free to express yourself sexually."
Jessi's stomach churned with anger and she bit her lip to keep from blurting
out a bold denunciation of this kind of values-free tripe. "Sex is a perfectly
natural bodily function, just like eating food or eliminating wastes. When you're
hungry, you eat. When you feel a need to urinate or defecate, you excuse yourself
and use the rest room." There were several snickers, mostly from the boys.
"And, if you feel physically attracted to another person, you express that
attraction with a level of intimacy with which you both feel comfortable. No
big deal, just like going to the restaurant or the rest room as the case may
be." The woman surveyed the class with a supercilious smugness. "Any
questions or comments?"
Jessi had been waiting,
had been hoping, had been praying for just such an invitation. Why not? No one
in this whole school even knew she existed so why not speak her mind as well
as her conscience? Jessi didn't just raise her hand or ask for permission to
speak, she stood erect and stepped into the aisle.
"Ms. Hockinger, I'd
like to say something."
"Yes?"
"I agree that sex
is a natural part of life but I don't agree it is as casual as going to the
rest room. God tells us in the Bible that sex must be restricted to heterosexual
marriage."
"Well, Virgin-ia,
do you believe in Santa Claus, too?" Hockinger asked sarcastically with
a rude emphasis on "virgin".
"The name is Jessica
Hogan and no, I don't believe in Santa Claus."
"Hogan, Hogan... Didn't
I read in the paper some church over on Wesley Drive got a new pastor by the
name of Hogan?"
"Pastor James Alan
Hogan is my father," Jessi flashed proudly.
"Well, Miss Preacher's
Kid, I suppose your daddy has told you not to have sex until you're married,"
Hockinger said mockingly.
Jessi prayed for both the
wisdom and the protection of the Holy Spirit. It was one thing to be lonely
in a crowd. It was quite another to be standing up in front of twenty-five high
school kids with the scorn of an adult focused squarely on her. "I don't
'want' to have sex before I'm married, and it's how I think, not just what my
dad says."
"That kind of thinking
was last heard from right about the time your dad graduated from high school.
We've had a sexual revolution, or haven't you heard? We've made a lot of progress
since then!"
"Progress? Do you
call AIDS, claymidia, herpes, teenage abortions, and an increasing number of
children having children-- do you call that progress? I call it regress, right
back toward the decadence of a falling Roman empire!"
Hockinger smiled with false
sweetness. "You're entitled to your opinion and to your right to express
it. Just know one thing. Even though you are admittedly articulate on teenage
sexual mores, you are definitely in the minority. I'm sure that all the boys
in this class will agree with me on that point." She smirked around the
room but strangely, no one was willing to make eye contact.
That did it! Jessi had
never been considered a sex symbol but she was pretty in a wholesome way and
she was above all else fashionably correct, from her Esprit sweat shirt to her
Treetorn sneakers. She jammed her fists in the pocket of her
jeans and looked Hockinger straight in the eyes. "As far as boys are concerned,
I've always had as many dates as I cared to have, even with my antiquated ideas
about sex. And for your information, a lot of other kids feel just like I do.
"Back in Ashtabula,
Ohio, where I used to live, we had a group in our school called 'Ivory' and
we had one thing in common. We were dedicated to the concept that sex must be
limited to heterosexual marriage. The kids in that group came different churches
and different races but without exception, we all agreed on total sexual abstinence
before marriage."
Now Jessi turned and faced
the whole class. "This is my first day at Mechanicsburg High School and
none of you know me. This may be a little sudden, but I want you to know that
I'm starting an Ivory Club in this school, right here and now. All of you can
join or none of you can join but the Ivory Club exists in this high school starting--"
and she smacked a clenched right first into her left palm, "starting right
now!" Then the little crusader sat down fast and covered her face with
her hands, tears starting to flow.
Never in the history of
Pennsylvania public education had so many high school kids made so little noise
for such a long period of time. Finally a tall kid with red hair, freckles,
and a varsity sweater who had been sitting in the right front corner of the
room stood and began to clap, slowly and rhythmically. A cute girl sitting across
from Jessi stood and joined in the clapping. Then someone in the back of the
room, and over in the left rear corner. One by one kids were standing and clapping
until the whole class was on its feet and smiling Jessi's way. Ms. Carter-Clarke
discarded her papers and walked over behind Jessi, grasping each shoulder in
friendly pressure.
At the height of the standing
ovation, Ms. Hockinger stuffed her handouts into her briefcase, snapped it shut,
and stalked out the door.
The teacher left Jessi
and walked to the front of the class. After the kids had stopped clapping and
resumed their seats, she said, "Jessica, Dr. Grace Carson is a dear and
personal friend of mine. Tonight, I'm going to call her and say that if Wesley's
new pastor is half as good a preacher as his daughter, the church board just
got a good bargain. And I think I'll see you in church Sunday, too." Jessi
was speechless. She had read her new health teacher all wrong.
Ms. Carter-Clarke continued.
"Class, I've been hearing about virginity support groups springing up in
high schools all over the country, so the concept behind Ivory isn't something
Jessica just cooked up in a remote corner of Ohio. You heard what some people
would call the liberal viewpoint from Ms. Hockinger. And your new classmate
just expressed the conservative viewpoint very beautifully, as well as forcefully."
Ms. Carter-Clarke sent a special smile Jessi's way. Again considerable applause
from the class. "And since you have information from both sides of the
issue, you are now better qualified to make your own value judgments about what
you will do about sex in your own lives.
"Here's what I'm going
to do regarding Jessica's Ivory idea. Unfortunately I don't have the authority
to endorse the creation of a school club. And, I don't have the authority to
control what you do in your free time, either. So, if you're interested in what
Jessica-- or is it Jessi?" Jessi was too full to speak but she mouthed
"Jessi". "All right, Jessi-- if you're interested in what Jessi
has to say about Ivory, meet with her outside of class time. And Jessi, you
can talk to me any time about your project. I'm really interested in seeing
how this all turns out."
The bell rang and most
of the kids in the health class scattered to their next period classes. But
about ten boys and girls clustered around Jessi's desk, eager to learn more
about Ivory. The red-haired boy who had started the clapping reached her first,
sticking out a bony hand.
"Jonathan King,"
he said, pumping her arm excitedly. "Everyone calls me Jon. I've been itching
to say what you said today since I first got into this class. I've never seen
this Hockinger person before but old CeeCee can get pretty liberal herself,
sometimes. Congratulations for standing on your own two feet!"
"Thanks, Jon,"
Jessi said earnestly. "What you did today really means a lot to me. That
took courage. Being the first to stand and to start clapping. I'll never forget
that." And then on sudden impulse, she stood on her highest tiptoes and
kissed him lightly on the cheek. He blushed beet red, making him look very endearing
and vulnerable at the same time.
The cute girl who had sat
near by grabbed her hand next, saying with admiration. "Oh, Jessi, I'm
so glad you said what you said. I've always felt like you do but I guess I was
too scared to say anything myself. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Cindy
Parsons," and she gave Jessi a quick and impulsive hug.
Most of the kids gathered
around Jessi's desk had study hall next period so they quickly agreed to regroup
there and try to talk some more about Ivory. For some strange reason, Mr. Book
was monitoring the study hall and Jessi felt comfortable in asking him for permission
to work with her group at a table in the back of the cafeteria.
As soon as they were situated,
a short boy with long hair and glasses slid a nine-by-twelve sheet of drawing
paper across the table to Jessi. She gasped with delight.
"Did you do this?
It's really neat!" Everyone gathered to look at a professional-looking
logo and quickly agreed that it was indeed neat. The word "ivory"
was outlined in large block letters. Below the large letters was a line of smaller
script which read "100% Pure". In the background was an olive branch.
"This is really good!
What's your name?"
Alan Cotton was a four-year
art major at Mechanicsburg who didn't have a lot of classes with the rest of
the kids around the table and no one really knew him. Besides, he was very shy,
especially around girls. But he quickly thawed in the warmth of the group's
praise of his work
"My name is Al Cotton
and if you want, I'll be Ivory's resident artist." Everyone expressed approval
and Al continued, "I'll use a Macintosh computer in the graphics arts room
to make this logo into a camera-ready original and then you can go anywhere
you want with it from there."
"How about T-shirts
or sweat shirts?" Jessi asked.
"Yeah," said
Cindy, "I'm working at that Big-T place at the mall. I can get the shirts
wholesale and get a forty-percent discount on the imprints, too."
The group got so engrossed
in their plans that everyone was surprised by the bell signaling time to pass
to last period classes. After making quick plans to meet again on the bus ramp
after school, Ivory dispersed to assigned classes. Jessi was especially pleased
that both Cindy and Jonathan would be in last period with her.
The back door banged and
Debra looked up from shaping a meat loaf as Jessi burst into the kitchen. "Hey,
Mom! Guess what! We're going to have Ivory in Mechanicsburg! Isn't that wild?
Oh, and Mom, meet my best friend, Cindy Parsons. Cindy, this is my Mom."
Debra was astounded. "Jessi,
slow down and let me get my breath." Quickly she washed the meat loaf off
her hands and opened her arms to Jessi for a big hug. Then she extended the
hug to include Cindy, also. "Did you say Ivory and a best friend, all in
the same day?"
Jessi nodded. "Isn't
that great? I think I'm going to like it here!" she sang in a passable
imitation of Annie, while waltzing around the cooking island in time to her
music.
"Tell me all about
it," invited Debra as she led the way to the breakfast nook. Quickly Jessi
recounted the happenings in the health class, in study hall, and on the bus
ramp, with numerous excited assists from Cindy.
"Yeah, and Jessi made
another new friend today," said Cindy importantly. "Tell her, Jessi."
"Well--" started
Jessi with a blush, "there was this cute guy in health class and when I
got done making my big speech, he kind of got everybody clapping."
"Yeah, and we all
ended up giving Jessi a standing ovation!" bubbled Cindy.
"A standing ovation,"
marveled Debra in a whisper. "Well, young lady, you have had yourself one
mighty fine day. By the way, What time did you have health?" Debra asked
soberly, close to tears.
Jessi looked at Cindy for
help. "About one-thirty, Mrs. Hogan."
"I thought so,"
said Debra softly.
Suddenly it dawned on Jessi.
"Oh, I get it. You and Dad were praying for me about that time, weren't
you?" She too spoke softly and was equally close to tears. Cindy sat very
still with a puzzled look on her face.
Debra nodded in answer
to Jessi's question. "Your Dad was pretty late getting home for lunch,
and then when he got here, he said he wasn't hungry and just wanted to pray
for you. So we did, right where we're sitting now. We prayed together for at
least a half hour."
Cindy's eyes were as big
as moons and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to stay any longer. But Jessi
jumped up, leaned over the table to kiss her mother on the cheek, said "Thanks,
Mom. Love you both!" and then grabbed Cindy's hand.
"Come on, Cindy. Let's
go up to my room. You can tell me all about Mechanicsburg and I'll play you
some great music." She flashed Debra a wink as she headed for the stairs.
Debra never liked to call
Jim at the office but this couldn't wait. "Sandy, I hate to be a bother
on Jim's first day on the job but is he available? I need to talk to him if
possible."
"No problem,"
said Sandy with a laugh. "He's already told us that your calls have the
same priority as Grace Carson's and God's. Please hold."
"Hi, Debbie. What's
up?"
"Jim, I know you're
busy but this'll just take a sec. Guess what happened to Jessi at school today."
After Debra hung up, it
was Jim's turn to marvel. A virginity speech, a best friend, a standing ovation,
a cute boy, another Ivory. All on the first day of school? To God be the glory
for the great things He has done!
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