The Yada Yada Prayer Group Gets Real Read Free Page A

ditched the adults and joined the teasing, shoving group of teenagers at the water’s edge, as Ruth and Ben stopped to talk to Denny.
    â€œHey.”Yo-Yo nodded at Delores and me, then arched an eyebrow at Edesa. “You gonna take the plunge, ’Desa? Jodi? Anybody?”
    â€œAre you serious?” Edesa shook her curls and laughed.
    Yo-Yo grinned, reached inside her overalls and bulky sweatshirt, and pulled out a swimsuit strap. “I dunno. Thought I might if some other adults did.” She tipped her spiky blonde head toward Ruth and Ben, who were still talking to Denny. “Didn’t tell Ruth, though, or she woulda given me a nonstop lecture all the way here. Didn’t tell Pete or Jerry, neither. Ya know them two—they think you’re dead meat if you’re over twenty.”
    I hooted. Yo-Yo “dead meat” at the ripe old age of twenty-three? Ha!
    A flurry of activity near the shoreline caught our attention as the teenagers and even a handful of brave—or merely foolish—Uptown adults started shedding coats, sweatshirts, sweatpants, shoes, and socks and dumping them in piles on the beach. “Oh, good grief,” I sputtered. “Denny is really gonna do it. Stu too.”
    The Polar Bear Plungers formed a ragged line, backs to the water, facing the huddled onlookers. Bundled up as I was, I still felt the bite of the wind nipping off the lake, making my eyes water. Denny was jogging in place, trying to keep his blood going, while the younger set hopped up and down from one bare foot to the next. Josh—the old-est Uptown youth at eighteen—held up both hands like a prizefighter, dressed only in his swim trunks, complete with shaved head. “We who are about to freeze,” he yelled, grinning defiantly, “salute thee!”
    The Polar Bear line went crazy, cheering and yelling like gladiators about to enter the arena.
    â€œHey, wait for us!” somebody yelled. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Chris and Cedric Hickman—Florida’s boys—running toward the line of half-naked daredevils, leaving a trail of their clothes and shoes on the sand as they stripped to their swim trunks. Behind them, Florida was hustling in our direction, picking up clothes as she went, trailed by a tall black man carrying a young girl piggyback.
    â€œBless You, Jesús!” Delores breathed. “It’s Carl Hickman! And Carla. The whole family!” She winked at me. “Now maybe that’s worth coming out today to see.”
    I felt torn between wanting to greet Florida and her husband—it was a first, Carl showing up at an Uptown event with his family—and not wanting to miss The Plunge. Just then the ragged line broke ranks and ran into the water, yelling at the top of their lungs. Beside me, Yo-Yo kicked off her shoes, dropped her denim overalls and sweatshirt, and ran toward the water.
    â€œWhat? Yo-Yo’s going in? That girl, she is crazy, yes?” Without turning my head, I knew Ruth and Ben had joined our little cluster. “And Denny! A heart attack he is going to have.”
    I was trying to keep track of my kids in the water—Amanda was still wearing her bright red knit hat—to make sure they came out again. But I couldn’t help laughing at Denny, lifting his legs high and waving his arms, looking for all the world like a marionette pulled by invisible strings. A majority of the teens plunged head-first into the numbing-cold water, then came splashing out, still yelling and dancing up and down. Denny, probably figuring he’d gone far enough proving his manhood, turned when he’d waded in up to his waist and splashed back to shore.
    I rushed forward with my armload of towels and blankets, trying to locate my shivering family. “You’re nuts,” I told Denny, throwing an old quilt over his shoulders, but he just grinned, as proud of himself as if he’d climbed Mount Everest. Josh ran