The Vanishings Read Free Page A

until he could find something else.
    Vicki had wished her parents would stay away from the community dance every Friday night, but they seemed to look forward to it as the highlight of their week. She had to admit she used to love hanging around with her older brother Eddie and little sister Jeanni and their friends during those dances. They were always off sneaking around and getting into mischief while their parents danced, sang, drank, and fought. It was while running with those kids that Vicki learned to smoke and drink. When Eddie graduated from high school, he moved out on his own to Michigan.
    There were a few trailer park families who never came to the dances. They, Vicki’s father said, were the “religious types. The goody-goodies. The churchgoers.”
    Vicki’s mother often reminded him, “Don’t forget, Tom, that was the way I was raised. And it’s not all bad. We could do with some church around here.”
    â€œI rescued you from all that superstitious mumbo jumbo,” he had said.
    That became Vicki’s view of church. She believed there was a God out there somewhere, and her mother told her he had created the world and created her and loved her. She couldn’t make that make sense. If God created this lousy world and her lousy life, how could he love her?
    One Friday night when Vicki was in seventh grade, the family heard the loud music signaling the weekly dance and began moseying to the parking lot to hear the band. Vicki’s plan was to ditch Jeanni as soon as the party started and run off somewhere with her friends to sneak some cigarettes and maybe some beer.
    But before she could do that, the music stopped and everyone looked toward the small stage in surprise. “Uh, ’scuse me,” the lead singer said. “One of our neighbors here has asked if he can introduce a guest who’d like to speak to us for a few minutes.”
    Sometimes local politicians said a few words at the dances, or the police reminded people to behave, or the landlord reminded everyone that “this is a privilege and can be ended if there are more fights.”
    But the neighbor with a guest speaker had never been seen at one of these dances. He was one of those church people Vicki’s dad made fun of. And his guest was a preacher.As soon as he began to speak, people groaned and began shouting to “get on with the music.”
    But the speaker said, “If you’ll just indulge me for a few moments, I promise not to take more than five minutes of your time. And I plead with you to let your children hear this too.”
    Somehow, that quieted the crowd. The man launched into a very fast, very brief message that included verses from the Bible and a good bit of shouting. Vicki had been to church only once with a friend, and she had no idea what he was talking about. She was struck, however, that everyone, even the bartenders and musicians, seemed to stop and listen. No one ran around, no one spoke, no one moved.
    The speaking didn’t seem all that great, but there was a feeling, an atmosphere. The man seemed to know what he was talking about and spoke with confidence and authority. The best Vicki could figure out, he was saying that everyone was a sinner and needed God. God loved them and wanted to forgive their sins and promise to take them to heaven when they died.
    She didn’t believe him. She hated her life, and if she did things wrong, they weren’t any worse than what her own parents did. Theysmoked and drank and fought. What was the big deal? And if God loved them, why were they living in a trailer park?
    Vicki wanted to get going, to run with her friends, but she didn’t want to be the only one moving. Everyone else seemed frozen in place. Vicki didn’t understand it. She hadn’t heard too much of this religious talk, and she didn’t care to hear any more. When she turned to complain to her parents, she was shocked to see her mother