The Punisher

Something smelled nice, like cleaning products, and I realized the tub itself had been scrubbed, as had the toilet and floor all around. In fact, the whole bathroom looked nicer.

I really hoped my mother hadn't done that.

My razor and gel were by the sink in one of three coffee cups from the kitchen, along with the toothbrush I'd used the night before (the new one). Coffee cups as toothbrush holders? I hadn't seen that before. Of course, my mom let me do whatever in the hall bathroom and it had a toothbrush holder on the wall... but.... I guess I wasn't used to it.

Strange things people do, I guessed? Living with someone new is gonna be odd.

The other coffee cups had hairbrushes, combs, tweezers, all kids of odd girly things, but, hell whatever, that's their business. Kind of fun to look at, though.

Mind you, I was fully aware things were going to be weird, living close to girls, and I knew this was tip of the iceberg stuff, but I'm mentioning it because that sense of odd and different is the kind of thing that typically sets me into a stressed-out mode.

Autism is odd. I like to have things the same. Different things add stress. I know how to cope with stress: I purposefully breathe slowly, think positive thoughts, and even praise the change out loud several times and in several ways. It let me convince myself, convince my own emotional-center of "wow-ness" that no, this was Great, and exciting can be good.

I didn't quite need to praise the coffee cups, I wasn't that stressed that morning (strangely calm?) but the sense of newness was different than my normal state of being.

I got back to the totally-messy room and found a bag with my stuff, pulled on underwear and jeans, and a dress shirt from hangars hung from one of the wall-unit supports. Shit was everywhere, and my need for better organization was prominent in my mind.

Getting upstairs, Emma and Kara were wiping down the kitchen cabinets, from the top. My mom was there, reading her phone and having some coffee.

We had to leave for mass in about 20 minutes at that point.

"Kara? Emma? We're going to mass very soon. Please go down and put on two of my white undershirts each, and we'll leave."

My ring kind-of bleeped a quick feeling at me, and they looked at each other oddly, then went down. I could hear some conversation; after asking my mom if she'd directed them, she said, No, they'd been cleaning when she got up and there's no way she's going to interrupt that.

Ten minutes later, we'd each had a bagel, I'd found an old set of parka jackets that they could wear, and we headed out, taking my dad's car (as I normally did). I figured it was a lot more likely I'd need my own car, now that there were three of us.

Emma started with, "So why are we going to this mass thing anyway...!"

Pushback? She really didn't know squat. I laughed.

Kara answered from the backseat, "He's Catholic and Buddhist, the God said. Catholic people go to church, it's 'mass'."

Emma snapped back, "I know what Mass is, bitch. I'm wondering why WE are going. We're not Catholic."

I interrupted. "What are you, Emma?"

"Me? I'm Nothing."

I obviously expected more of an answer, so she elaborated, "Mom took us to this church once, A-O-G, she said. Lots of music, I liked that part. They put me in this 'sunday school' thing where they told this story about a guy getting eaten by a giant fish, living in there, and then getting spat out so he could tell people they're gonna get burned in hell."

I chuckled, "Jonah."

"Whatever. STOOOOOpid, stupid story. Duh, Nobody lives in a fish!?!?? Can't breathe! Have they even SEEN fish?" She scoffed, "Totally Stupid, nobody's believing that, but these idiots, these other kids were eating it up, like, 'yeah, sure, lives in a fish, sure.' Fucking tards."

Emma's derision and hatred-of-other was on full display.

I knew my disapproval was written all over my face, but she didn't pick up on it. Before I could say anything, she kept going with the hate-speech, it roiled me (I had to stop this, but... how?).

"Then, like the next week? These people!! They're jumping around in the aisles, in Front of Everybody like it's normal, and then talking in gibberish like they're three years old or something. Totally fake-crazy. First, normal, then, like, BOOM, spouting like wacknut shit-for-brains morons. I was like yah, Fuck that, bunch a 'tards there! Get me the fuuuuuck outa here. Mom didn't want to leave, I had to start screaming until she finally let us ditch those losers."

There was a lot to unpack there.

This was a huge warning, I had to say something. "Emma. New Rules, Pay Attention." My ring heated up as I said that. "No more using the word, 'tards'. Ever. It's hateful. And, no making fun of other people's religions. Ever. Yes, AOG has speaking in tongues. We went to a service once, our youth group did. They are NOT faking. They're living in the moment. They're not stupid, they're Just Different From You. You can disagree, but, Be Respectful! Rules for both of you. Strong rule. Important."

My ring heated up even more, in front of me on the steering wheel. I touched it and felt a little power move.

I didn't have a problem with them finding a service weird, sure, lots of religion is weird, but being hurtful had to stop. I'd get to more of that later. "Kara. What religion are you?"

"We went to a Methodist church until I was, like, 5th grade? Then we stopped. Mom was dating a guy that went there, but they broke up, and she's like, no, not going there anymore. I was super-sad, I had friends there. Whenever I'd get friends, Mom would yank us away and do something else. We probably moved like ten times, sometimes we'd live with a guy for a while then mom would do some idiot thing like grind up all his wall-photos in the disposal... and we'd have to leave again. The guys were fine, mostly, they just kind of blended together, it was just ... I had toys, and we left sometimes without bringing my toys. I really hate my mom sometimes."

I was just silent, thinking. There was a lot to unpack there. I didn't know much about them, this was a start.

We were almost to our church, St. Albans. I had to think. This had to stop. These girls were crazy. I couldn't handle their crazy-making in my life. On the other hand, I could tell them what to do, and they'd have to do it, I was pretty sure.

What would it be like having a baby with these girls if they were like this already? Would the kid live through it? Would I?

I pulled into the parking lot and parked far away, but then turned off the car and said, "Stay here a minute," turning around to face them.

Looking at them, I had to be very clear. "Here's your new rules. Rule one. As of this instant, you are Catholic and Buddhist, Just. Like. Me. That is, you can think what you want on the inside, but the way you act, the way you presume the world to work, will be, is that you're Catholic and Buddhist. That means learning what it means to be a good, respectful Catholic, which we do here, at church... and you'll read about it at home, too. And, you'll read about being a good and respectful Buddhist, too."

"Now, I'm open minded. I know there's a lot more to the world than is imagined by Catholics and Buddhists. But right now, you don't know squat, so you're gonna start with this. We're going to go in there and be quiet, and like I said - respectful, too - and follow along. You will learn, and do what everyone else does, as best you can. Those are ... rules for being with me."

My ring started heating up.

They nodded, but Emma was still looking at me side-eyed, like she didn't quite buy what I was selling.

I went on: "I'm going to ask Father Jim what to do about you, and you're going to learn about Catholicism. Really, from one of us. Or, however he wants you to do it. Anything you feel is too oddball or conflicts with something I've told you? Find me, we'll talk about it. You can't lie to me, so you're going to tell me what's the problem, and we'll deal. Got it? That's item ONE."

"Item TWO. Any children we have, will be brought up in a mixture of Catholic faith and Buddhist teachings, presuming those to be true. You're going to follow those. This is important to me. These are RULES. I think I can order you to follow, and - I - Am - Doing - That."

The ring was burning now. I held up my hand so they could see, and touched it with my other hand. The power flowed out from there.

First Emma, then Kara, said, "Yes, Sir."

"Let's go."

I was pissed at them already, and they hadn't done anything yet.

No, that wasn't true.

Emma had dismissively maligned and insulted an entire branch of Christianity. Granted, I didn't particularly subscribe to the same worldview as the evangelicals she talked about, but that was their thing, and I wasn't going to get between someone and wherever they were brought up to believe.

She hadn't just insulted it. She'd said they were faking, that they were mentally ill, that they lied to people on purpose, knowing it was lying.

That wasn't right.

At the same time, I wasn't sure if it was up to me to change her... or, was it? Was I in charge of making sure they learned something in this second-chance but punishment-ridden lifetime?

I got out of the car and we walked across the lot in silence. Maybe Father Paulo would have a way to help them be more tolerant.

We got inside and hung up our coats in the cloakroom, though Emma and Kaara both seemed to be embarrassed to be seen in the coats I'd loaned them, just by the way they carried them.

Mrs. Higgins, a lady that had taught my Sunday school class a long time ago, greeted me and handed me a program, though she ignored the girls as if they weren't really there.

I pulled the girls off to the side, explained the holy water, doing the quick-kneel and genuflecting when you start down the aisle, and then guided us to a nearly-back row pew to sit.

Sitting to the right of both of them, I wanted to be able to look at both of them at the same time.

Once we were seated, I started explaining the theories - that genuflecting was like we were pulling on an item of clothing, which was symbolic of the peace and wisdom of Christ. That is, by putting it on, we were inviting God into inner-self, during the service, or any other time we felt we needed a friend or companion, or loving presence when life was complicated or painful.

I wasn't sure I believed all of that, but it's what we learned in 8th grade, and it was simpler to repeat that lesson than try to explain... whatever I believed it meant. I wasn't sure. My best guess about crossing myself was that I did it when I wanted a fast-prayer, for whatever purpose that prayer was - happy, or sad, or worried, or helpful. It varied.

Usually I crossed myself when I needed strength for something, like facing a test, or (laughingly, I explained), having a serving of brussel sprouts - green balls of mushy poison. They were caught up in the explanation, they didn't laugh, and I worried that my funny idea of Really Not Liking brussel sprouts got mixed up in their idea of what Catholicism was.

Even before the service started, I pointed out who was where, what was going to happen and why, etc. I couldn't presume they knew anything, they seemed smart enough but they were soooo self-absorbed.

Explanations weren't always easy. Navigating a program booklet to find the right hymn or response or whatever, that took some practice.

Sister Gina stood up to do some announcements, but she handed off like normal to Father Jim.

He got situated and looked around with a smile, connecting with and happy to see us. He gave out good vibes like that.

Tilting his head and getting a sentimental voice, he said, "I'd like to ask for prayers today for Danielle McGraw - Dani - a high school senior who passed away last week, and for Kevin Cooper, who knew her well and is, of course, grieving. This is especially somber because just this week Kevin got married to Emmaline Paulsen and Karabeth Kroger, as we all know, the two women who murdered Kevin's friend Dani. So please pray for the soul of Ms. McGraw, and for Mr. Cooper and his wives, and those others in our community who are grieving."

Even after hearing him say these things, I knew I should be crying about Dani, but I couldn't, really, it felt pretty disconnected still.

The rest of the service went like normal, more or less. We sang one of my favorite hymns and of course I knew the bass line so the girls were surprised. I didn't hear much from them, but to be fair I had no idea if they'd ever done any singing.

Kneeling and standing was a thing. Since they weren't but barely Catholics yet, I knew they shouldn't take the wafer and wine, so we just stayed in the back and watched. They'd probably need to be baptized and go through some process Father Jim would decide on.

After the service, we went to the youth group room, a big room filled with comfy couches and chairs, tables, coffee, donuts, etc., over in the church school attached to the church.

Mary saw me across the room, burst into a smile, and came over, not stopping or interacting with Emma or Kara. She gave me a big hug, very tight, complete with a 'yummy-sound', appreciating the chance to be close to me.

I liked her, too, and hugged her back, even though I'd just seen her the day before.

My mind went back to what she'd texted me.

She pulled away a little and said, "We didn't really say much about Dani on Saturday, I know. It seemed like you wanted to just live in a bubble for a while and we stayed out of it."

"Yeah."

She glanced behind her (still pointedly ignoring Emma and Kara right next to me) and said, "While I have you alone, I ... gotta say. I meant what I texted last night. I mean more than that. I realize, I haven't told you soooo many things, and it's important. Thing is, I don't want to get in the way, you being newly married and all. Having a girlfriend isn't easy that way, can't be."

This was Incredibly confusing to me. "I think, Mary, I just - I don't know what the protocol is, the right thing to do."

Mary looked over, and called over to Father Paulo (an older father who came to services but wasn't our main priest, I was pretty sure he was 'retired'). He'd just walked in with Sister Gina. They both walked over to us; the Sister gave me a hug (she was big on those), and Paulo gave me a firm handshake.

His grim smile said he understood what pain was.

Mary interrupted our handshake and said, "So, Father, Sister - I have a question. Hypothetically. If Kevin, being married now, just happened to find out that there was someone who was interested in dating him, in being 'romantic'? What would be the right thing to do, for him?"

Gina spoke up. "Kevin, if you see someone you like, or that you want to love, Love Them. If you want to take them out to dinner or talk or go on dates, or dancing, or whatever, you should do that. You can literally do no wrong here, by loving people, marrying people, it's ALL good. Any OTHER people, besides you? They only get one marriage at a time, for sure, but you're obviously working off different rules."

Paulo was nodding and Mary was looking self confident. He added, "One more thing, though you probably already know it, it's in your ethos, your core moral center. It's this. Remember, you shouldn't make love with anyone unless you're willing to marry them, Kevin. That's your rule."

This was a bit much to hear from him!

Paulo's mind was obviously being shaped by the same ideas that had shaped the girls.

He finished up. "If you make love with them, you might end up married, and that's a lifetime thing. So, I'd urge caution. There are obligations that come with marriage - and by your own ideas, you would need to treat each wife fairly, and they would each owe you the same obligations. It's like with kids - you have to have the same rules, no favoritism. That's a tall order sometimes. For instance, with Mary here. Could you handle being married to her long enough for her to have sixteen children, and raise them, send them off to college, watch them make you grandkids? That's a lot of work, a life's work. Granted, you're in the prime of life, no worries about health, being blessed like you all are. Still, raising kids, that's a lot of worries right there. Still, you know that, you're already bless-ed of God."

He sipped his coffee calmly, like this was a conversation about Sea Dogs hockey, and I had to just kind-of chuckle. He excused himself and they went off to talk with someone else.

Mary looked back at me. "See? Anytime, we can be a thing. You say the word."

I had to wonder. "What word?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "If you want to go on a date, Kevin. You know, dinner, or a movie, even at home, whatever. I'll ... Put Out. I want to, I've been waiting. You get me totally steamy, I dream about you sometimes, about you lying on top of me, brushing my hair, pushing up my body... wow. Yeah. And, sometimes I'm making breakfast for you, too, and whoever else, maybe. Obviously you're going to have lots of kids, I'm game for that, I love kids. I kind of want to get some college done, too? ... I could do both. For YOU? Definitely I could do both. Suckle, study, blow, suckle, study, make love, study, play, diaper, study, make love, whatever order you want."

This was a bit much for me, as oddness. I found myself saying, "Uh... I don't know what to say, Mary? I really like you. You're fun, and inventive, and smart, and sexy, and beautiful, and caring... but I'm getting overloaded, it's too frenetic in here now, I gotta..."

"Go, Kevin. Go. If you want, just text me DTF and I'll be over. Go, though, don't stress too much. Or, come over to my house, I'll put these bitches in the front room, we can get steamy in my room. Whatever, either way. Calm house, quiet place, ready and Very Willing."

She knew how I could get when there were too many people in a room, and there were starting to be too many people in there. We hugged again and I said hello-and-goodbye to some more people on the way out.

We went out to the parking lot and drove home, mostly in silence.

Once we were downstairs, we got to work again straightening things up, but it got to be too much again. Too much worry, and activity, and uncertainty, I had to just get out, so I put on my running stuff and headed out, leaving the girls to straighten and organize.

My route took me out to a lake on a golf course, all frozen of course, but I wondered how many golf balls were embedded in the mud in the lake, and how many balls, if they were sentient, would have imagined their entire life might just be getting hit once and going plop into a lake, never to be seen or used again.

There were people like that, I thought. Dani, for one. She'd just gotten to the point of being ready, which is to say, being in high school and pretty and capable, and then, treated badly (not by me, just by life), and plop, she's gone.

That was wrong, though. It was cruel and wrong to think about Dani as a golf ball, or as the girls and being just 'bad golfers'. They had been mean and nasty and... whatever else, I didn't know the specifics.

Running back, I stopped by a jungle gym and did some of my exercises, but I couldn't do all of them because while the rubber and wood surfaces were okay, the metal was way too cold to grab without gloves and I didn't wear them.

Exercise calmed me down.

I got back to the house and the girls had made progress but there was a lot left to do.

My desk wasn't anywhere close to something I could work with, and I had homework left to do before Monday, so I worked first on getting things organized and then, almost at dinnertime, got my calc homework done.

Emma had homework due, too, as did Kara, but they'd been out of school for the week. They didn't say why, and I didn't ask. I thought about asking, but it just seemed wrong, like I might reveal some things that our God-creature had intended to stay quiet.