The Fall of Alice K. Read Free Page B

truck diesel fuel. The starling was still flying aimlessly through the sanctuary, bouncing through the air and against the windows. Then it flew to the front of the church and perched on the right arm of the wooden cross. Its chest was panting madly. Finally, as if in despair, it fluttered to the floor, edged itself between the long cylindrical pipes of the pipe organ that stood next to the wooden cross, and disappeared.
    The men closed the doors.
    Rev. Prunesma looked down at his notes and picked up where he had left off.
    The starling hadn’t bothered Alice as much as her mother’s behavior. God only knew what crazy ideas were bouncing around randomly in her head until she needed to go off and hide. She was a little bit too much like the starling. Her mother was mentally disturbed and Alice guessed that everybody else must know too.
    Alice glued her attention back on the Rev as he made his way to the last line of Psalm 23: “And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

    He stepped away from the lectern again.
    â€œWe understand ‘dwell’ to mean ‘to take up residence in a place, to abide there, to be at home there.’ We think of a place that is stationary and permanent. One who dwells is the opposite of a nomad. Dwellers are the opposite of Seekers. Seekers are unsettled: they do not know where they are going from one moment to the next. They are restless. Seekers are lost in lives of bootless desperation, never satisfied with the green pastures that God offers them, always wanting more: more money, more entertainment, even more knowledge.”
    Alice sensed that the Rev was looking straight at her. He knew she was a big achiever in school, and he knew how hungry she was for success. He knew she was a Seeker! She felt cornered by his admonitions. She was one of the restless and unsatisfied ones who was outside the fold, a wayward sheep, living a life of bootless desperation. A life of futility. A life as empty as her mother’s hopeless declarations.
    The defensive shield of Alice’s critical mind left her. She felt exposed. She felt pummeled by the sermon. She was not one of God’s people as Rev. Prunesma had described them. Not only was she not at peace with the wackos sitting around her, she was not at peace with her parents. And she was not at peace in the presence of the Lord. She was not in his green pastures of contentment. I wish I were stupid, she thought. I wish I could obey every order given to me without asking any questions.
    Some farmers were leaving church without going downstairs to the community room for coffee. Were they Seekers too? Were they feeling what she was feeling? Restless outcasts, all of us? Or was it that their farms were in as much trouble as the Krayenbraaks’ and they didn’t want to hear that awful question, “How are things going?” Her father wasn’t moving toward the basement either, but he was probably concerned about Agnes and Aldah—wherever they were.

3
    Alice walked out into the parking lot behind church to look for her family. Instead of seeing them, she saw Lydia Laats, her best friend at Midwest Christian. Beautiful Lydia. Witty Lydia. Smart Lydia—and Alice’s only academic competition. The attraction was mutual. They sought each other out, especially when they were in school. To be in each other’s company was to be free from what both of them saw as the shallowness of so many of the other students. Alone together, they could talk about what they were reading without some airhead saying, “Geez, get a life.”
    â€œHey!” said Alice.
    â€œHey!” said Lydia.
    They flung their arms around each other, Alice’s arms around Lydia’s shoulders and Lydia’s around Alice’s waist; then Lydia put her hands on Alice’s arms and held her away from herself. “Look at you, look at you,” said Lydia. “You look fabulous in that blouse and skirt.