Fated
Part 4
“You’ve lost the Holy Ghost.”
I ignored Tara, staring out the car window instead. Lying on the side of the road was a dead bird, an odd wing jutting up from a mottled mess of feathers. Broken. Fallen. Like me. “Why did you say that?” I finally asked, bitter.
“It’s the truth,” she said, and something about her tone made me look over at her. Her jaw was rigidly clenched shut, her knuckles white around the steering wheel, her eyes locked straight ahead. “For you Mormons.”
I turned away again. “Who the hell–” I gulped, embarrassed that the four letter word had slipped out of my mouth, “–cares?”
“You do.” Tara suddenly braked and made a sharp turn right. “They teach you all your life that the Holy Ghost is someone you want with you at all times, and then they tell you that he’ll abandon you the moment you step on unholy ground. The second you sin.” The last word sounded like something she had spit out of her mouth with disgust. Her words stung with their loathing and truthfulness. She hadn’t said anything new, she had just said it with a different emphasis. She had said it in a way that I had never even thought to consider before. She had said it with tears in her eyes.
I reached over and pried her hand off of the steering wheel so I could hold it with my own. Her skin was cold, smooth. I don’t know if I did it to comfort her or myself. Maybe both. “I’ll get over it,” I whispered. “The Holy Ghost never had much to do with me in the past anyway.”
She hesitated, then with a smile said, “You might want to try giving the goddesses a try. They’re infinitely better.”
“I just might.” I leaned against her shoulder. “Since they seem to stick with you despite you being a lesbian.”
Tara burst out with a laugh. “They help me be a lesbian!”
I laughed too. “I like your religion.”
“You should . . .” She stopped, then continued with a different phrase, “You could consider becoming part of the New Age movement. We’re all about love and self-improvement.”
“Is that why you joined?” I asked.
She nodded. “Love is something that I’ve always longed for, but up until a couple years ago all I could see in the world was hate, so in return I hated the world. But then I got in touch with my guardian angels, and the very first thing they said to me was ‘We will always love you, no matter what.’”
“And that changed you?”
“It set me free to be myself.” Tara stopped the car and turned off the engine. I was surprised that we had arrived in the mall parking lot already. “Since you’re a sinner,” she said, opening up her door, “you might as well dress like one. The frumpy Molly Mormon look doesn’t do it for you.”
“I don’t know . . .” I felt shy as I got out of the car, imagining how vulnerable and exposed I would feel wearing a tank top.
“God doesn’t give a damn what you look like. Don’t believe that he wants you to be ashamed of your beautiful body.” She winked. “And trust me, I know that you have a beautiful body.”
I blushed and giggled. “Thanks. You too.”
Putting her arm around my waist, Tara leaned over and kissed me. For a moment I lost myself, feeling her lips and moisture with my mouth. I put my hand up to her cheek and pressed the front of my body against hers.
“CHRYSA!”
I jolted back and turned, panicking with fear at the sound of my mom’s voice.
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