Enid VBS, Day 3

Now Playing: "In My Hands", by Natalie MacMaster. "Flamenco Fling". (Per Anna's request)

July 19, 2006

After breakfast, I sat and read Busman’s Holiday in the living room. Nathaniel was AIMing with a friend on his laptop. Ruth was reading a magazine, and Logan was reading Schaff’s history. Mrs. Wagner set out lunch-fixing materials on the counter in the kitchen. While everyone was fixing their lunches, Christi came downstairs, freshly-showered after her jog. “Mom! I was attacked by a bird today!” she said. Mrs. Wagner turned around, looked at her, and burst out laughing. Christi pretended to be hurt. “No, really,” she said. She told us that while she was running, a big bird had dive-bombed her, clawing through her hair. This had happened three times. She described the bird, and I guessed that it was probably a kite. Apparently, the area around the USAF base has had troubles with kites attacking people.

Mr. Parnell and Laura arrived a little after nine-thirty. We prayed, then went door-to-door. Anna and I were paired up for door-to-door. We worked with Logan and Laura, though after about fifteen minutes, our pairs got separated. Anna and I would go around one block, then stop and look for Logan and Laura, then go around another block, and then stop and look again. We met three confused people, one man who was grumpy and shut the door on us as soon as the name of Christ was mentioned, and two wonderful women who gave strong, cheerful testimonies. One of them was an elderly woman, housebound, and the other was somewhat younger. It was blazingly hot. Anna and I fanned ourselves with brochures. We met up with Logan and Laura on the walk back. We stood on a corner under a tree and talked until everyone else arrived.

Directly after going door-to-door, we all drove over to the YMCA. We signed in. Christi led Laura and me to the lockerrooms, where we changed, and then hurried in to the indoor swimming pool. All of us spent about forty-five minutes in the pool. It felt wonderful! The water surrounding me, lifting me, flying along the floor. Logan found a pair of flippers, and he fooled around like a porpoise in the water. He raced Brad and David. Laura, Anna, Ruth, and I bobbed around together in the deep end, diving down to the bottom to touch with outstretched fingertips. We had to be a little keyed-down because there was a contingent of elderly women walking sedately back and forth across the pool, getting their exercise. After swimming, we showered, then everyone gathered in our room in the basement to eat lunch. Missy and Beth had brought our sandwiches in a big cooler, along with a whole selection of goodies: nectarines, peach fruit leather, potato chips, sun chips, corn chips, caramels from Scotland, Toblerone, etc. We sat around on the smooth floor and ate. Everyone was relaxed and cool—almost too cool in the airconditioning. The boys pulled out the big exercise balls and sat on them. They tried to balance on the balls, sitting without touching the floor for as long as possible. Brad flipped over pretty quickly, and everyone laughed at him. Brad and Logan had a wrestling match, and Logan won. We were just hanging out, having fun. Beth broke off little Toblerone “mountains” and shared them with everyone.

When one-thirty came around, we had to scramble to clean up while the kids arrived. Singing came first, as always. The kids seem to be making good progress. Then the kids were broken up into two groups: four years to eight years old, and nine years to twelve years old. We have one fifteen-year-old girl, but she has Downs syndrome, so mentally she relates to the younger children. The older kids were sent to the racquetball court to do the memory verse with Anna, while the younger kids stayed behind to listen to Logan’s Bible story. Anna requested yesterday that the younger kids remain in our basement room all the time instead of going into the racquetball court because they love to make echoes in the court. Though our room does echo, it isn’t nearly as conducive to noise as the court. Logan did well with his story. I sat with little Leeanna on my lap. She’s so tiny, so fragile, delicate as a glass flower. A couple of rascally boys sat near us. Two of them had a miniature wrestling match during the story, so I told one of them to come and sit beside me. He burst into a temper tantrum. The kids around him were very concerned. “He’s crying. He’s crying,” one girl said. “Boy! Hey, boy!” Leeanna chirped to Logan, waving her hand to attract his attention. The miscreant sat and sobbed, well-pleased with himself. *groan* Logan stacked the kids up into another “living house”, which kept them entertained for awhile. After the Bible story, all the kids left to play sports. Only Logan, Anna, and I were left behind. I filled cups of water while Logan organized them by name so that the kids could find them easily. Anna bounced on one of the big exercise balls. Anna and Logan sat around and talked while I ran around the room, delighted to have such a big space. When Beth arrived with the snack, Anna and I sorted them onto napkins: four chicken nuggets from Chick-Fil-A per napkin. Then the kids came trooping in again. I was on crowd control, handing out napkins with food.

After snack, it was the young kids’ turn for Bible memory verse. I stayed behind in our room with the small children. I sat behind one little boy, who was eager to learn, and showed him the hand motions, which he couldn’t quite see over the heads of the kids in front of him. Anna did an excellent job teaching the group. She seemed to mature even while I watched her. Sitting back, seeing her interact with the kids, I was amazed again by what God has done. Over this month, I’ve seen our talents put to use. The CY and the mission team have grown and matured so much. Each individual has abilities, and God has been enabling us to use those abilities as a unified whole. After memory verse/Bible story, everyone came together again for the skit, performed this time by Anna and Ruth. After the skit, parents came to pick up their children. Missy and Brad were busy making sure that all the parents had turned in consent forms so that their kids could climb the rock wall tomorrow. Leeanna is too small to climb the wall, though. She rode around on Laura’s back, her little head cradled on Laura’s shoulder. They were both wearing lime green shirts, as Leeanna noticed gleefully.

After everyone had gone, Mr. Parnell gathered us around and checked up on our wellbeing and how we thought the week was going. Then we left. On the way back to the Wagners’ house, Missy stopped in at Sonic so that David could buy a drink. At the Wagners’ house, we packed up, split into cars, and drove to the Covingtons’ house for supper. I rode with Katie, Beth, and Missy in the Wagners’ little red car. We followed Brad and David in Brad’s car.

Eventually we turned off the highway onto a dirt road. Fine dust billowed over the cars so that we couldn’t see Brad in front of us. The sunlight turned rose-rock-red. We could tell where Brad had turned because the cloud of dust ended, and clear road opened in front of us. The Covingtons’ house sits up on a rise over a creekbed. Stepping into their house is like stepping into the heart of serenity. High white walls, floor-to-ceiling windows, white curtains, honey-gold wooden floors. Huge rooms with hardly any furniture: but the furniture that they do have is rich—elegant, dark wood formal dining tables, an old roll-top desk, an oak upright piano, a long sofa, rocking chairs. The rooms are high and cool. White slants down on the walls through shadowy blue to sunlit yellow. The boys all went outside, where Brad grilled juicy chicken for supper. Logan sat and read Schaff’s history, while the rest of them listened to Mr. Wagner and Mr. Covington share stories. A little dun-colored calf slipped under the fence. Brad chased it back to its mother, and it capered rebelliously across the pasture. Mrs. Covington was busy in the kitchen, with Beth and Katie helping her. They prepared a tray of cheese-and-crackers and a bowl of beautiful grapes, iridescent as peacocks’ eyes. Beth and I passed the food around, carrying it outside to the boys, too.

The girls sat inside in the living room. I perched on the stairs, which have no rails, and stuck my feet out in front of me. Mrs. Wagner started a game of twenty questions. Ruth went first, and Anna guessed her plant: seaweed. So it was Anna’s turn, and she chose Frozone from “The Incredibles”, which I guessed. I chose the Phantom of the Opera. The Wagner girls guessed and guessed, and I couldn’t help laughing because I’d thought they would guess it easily. Missy did ask me if the character was from a movie we had differing opinions on (she hates it), but I refused to answer that question. Ruth and Christi lounged on the sofa, half-asleep. Anna sat and read a magazine. She guessed correctly, so she chose Christi to play next. Christi thought of a European plum, so one of her sisters had to figure that one out. Nathaniel prowled around shooting flies with a rubber band. When the meat was ready, Brad passed it on a tray through the dining room window. Spicy grill smoke wisped through with the meat.

Everyone gathered in the living room while Mr. Covington prayed for our meal. Then we lined up in the kitchen for the food. Christi and I sat at the “high” table in the formal dining room with Mr. and Mrs. Covington, Mr. and Mrs. Wagner, Logan, and Clay. The meal was a little stiff. We all heaped compliments on the food: fresh produce bursting with summer’s flavors and good meat. Logan laughed at Brad riding the tractor up the driveway, with a bucket of ice cream perched on the steering wheel. Dessert was delicious: fresh peaches, vanilla ice cream, and cinnamon-and-oatmeal cake. Mr. Covington and Mr. Wagner discussed energy sources. Evening sank slowly outside. The walls washed from gold to cream to quiet grey-blue. After dessert, everyone sat outside on the front porch. Brad pulled the tractor into the front yard and showed us how to drive it. We took turns, the Wagner girls going first. Mr. Covington fed the half-a-dozen black cattle that had gathered at the fence. The cattle lowed and bleated as he carried the food out to them. A gentle south breeze smelled like cattle, hogs, and hay. Oklahoma—open sky, open land, a myriad of rough colors fading to calico blue. Cliff swallows spun and danced through the warm evening air. A nighthawk winged slowly over the pasture. Mosquitoes hovered over a patch of warm earth. Logan found a bit of barbecue crackling and dropped it into the middle of a red ant hill. He and Ruth watched as the ants scurried over to the sweet meat, crawling on top of one another to get near it. When it was my turn to drive the tractor, I drove it in a circle around the house. The ride was bumpy, especially since I couldn’t sort out which pedals to push at the right time. I much preferred another amusement: standing on the machinery bar protruding between the wheels, with my hands looped through the overhead roll bar, while someone else drove. When it was Clay’s turn, I hopped on behind. He went really fast at first, and I had to remind myself to treat the tractor like a ship, giving to its movements. I braced myself with my arms against the metal bar as we bounced down a little rise, the bar under my feet leaping and shaking as the big wheels trundled over the rocky ground.

After we’d all taken turns (except Anna, who steadfastly refuses to participate in such amusements), Katie hopped on the back while Brad drove the tractor. “That’s not fair! I wanted to do that!” Missy shouted. Brad took off fast, and Katie clung to the back, laughing. They disappeared down the driveway and into the pasture. When they reappeared, we saw Brad alone on the tractor. Then we saw Katie’s head poking up just over the level of the class, flying along smoothly. When they pulled into the front yard, we saw why: Brad had found one of the plywood sledges, and Katie was perched on this, dust billowing back over her feet. Christi and Missy took a ride. Red dust blew over Christi in her cool white trousers and T-shirt. David sat on the sledge next, but Logan stood up on it, like a surfer. I gave a running leap onto the machinery bar and clung tightly, glancing back over my shoulder to watch the boys. Logan struck poses as the sledge bumped and jerked under his feet. He tumbled off at one point, then jumped back on. The metal bar quivered in my grip. Diesel and dust blew up from under the big wheels. I rode twice while Brad drove, and then Brad took the tractor back to its shed.

Mr. and Mrs. Wagner left with Katie, Christi, and Beth. The rest of us stayed behind. It was almost completely dark. Brad offered to take us on the nature trail through the pasture. Mrs. Covington was distressed that we might run into a panther or a rattlesnake, but Brad laughed her off. He stepped on the electric fence that runs around the pasture so that we could climb over it. I paced at the end of the line, behind Logan. Deep sky and pasture turned one color. We followed the trail down towards the creekbed, through a grove of juniper trees. The rough trunks showed darkly through the dusk. Rough needles crunched under our feet. We climbed up the creekbed into a pasture, a pool of grass cradled in the arm of the creek, walled by juniper and oak trees. Fireflies flashed along the edge of the woods. I paused to run my fingers through a patch of sagebrush, and the silvery smell leaped up to meet me from the pale leaves shining in the dusk. Jupiter flashed above the trees. The Big Dipper was coming out, and Mars shone red near Jupiter. The quiet land welcomed us gently as we walked through the deep shadows. Missy, David, Brad, and Anna were teasing each other, their laughter drifting back. Brad led us on a winding trail through the pasture, then back to the house.

We sat on the picnic table behind the house. Mrs. Covington, concerned that we’d all contracted poison ivy, came out with soap, water, and paper towels. To oblige her, Missy and I washed our feet. She twittered to Clay that she’d promised the Wagners that he would be responsible. He nodded and smiled uncomfortably. We sat outside for awhile, laughing and talking. Everyone was in a holiday mood, as though the gloaming had made us all giddy. Brad was being especially absurd. Missy and Anna teased him ruthlessly. Brad decided that it would be a grand joke if all the boys ran up to the back windows and smacked against them like zombies. So Clay, Logan, David, and Brad hunched over, howling and snarling, and smeared into the windows with dreadful faces. They plastered themselves against the glass. Mrs. Covington, sitting at the dining room table with Mr. Covington, leaped up with her hands to her mouth. I could see Mr. Covington laughing through the window. All the boys walked back to the table, laughing and joking.

We decided to go. Ruth and I rode in the back of Logan’s car, with Nathaniel. Missy, Anna, David, and Clay followed us. As we dipped down under a hill, Logan turned off his lights. We drove along in the gloaming for awhile. A narrow lane of sky stretched above us like the blue wake of a ship through the sea of grass. Dust swirled over the car. When Logan turned his lights back on, the lush tassels of Johnson grass along the fence on either side of the road stood out like plumes of fireworks against the dark fields behind them. Logan leaned back and asked about Calvin. Logan, Nathaniel, and I prayed for Calvin. Nathaniel read portions from other Psalms. Ruth, curled in the corner of the back seat, sobbed softly while he read. I put my arm over her shoulders. We sang Psalm 127A and Psalm 23B, as Ruth requested, our four voices mixing clearly in the car, like light and water. After we sang, Logan heard Ruth sniffling in the back. He offered her his handkerchief, the camouflage bandana he’s been wearing around his head for these two VBSs. “Umm… I don’t know….” Ruth said doubtfully. “It’s fairly clean,” he coaxed. “Will you wash it? You won’t wear it tomorrow?” she asked. “I promise I’ll wash it,” he said, and tossed it back to her. She held it skeptically. “It’s not a dead animal,” I laughed. She began to wipe her face gingerly. “You need it more than I do,” Logan called back.

Back at the Wagners' house, we all went to bed.