Kelly

The way my Church works is kind of interesting. First off, it’s a really small group of people, and technically, we’re not a part of the Catholic Church or any major Protestant Church. We’re just a group of women – there are a few guys, but we’re not sure why they joined and we think they’re kind of creepy – who get together each Sunday to pray to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. There’s about 2,000 of us; SMIC members, lesbians, frustrated women, feminists…you know. We’re all pretty much women who believe in Christ but think that both Protestants and Catholics are pretty stupid. A little too archaic. Time for them to move into the 21st century, if you know what I mean.

Anyway. We just got status last year to declare ourselves as an official
Church, which means the priests – we have three of them – all get tax exemptions, and that our religious site is untaxable as well. The priests don’t take this high and mighty stance like those you might see in other Churches. They’re just kind of normal people, interested in serving God and their fellow humans.

Every week, a different member of the congregation can volunteer to recite the homily. That particular week, I was the one who volunteered.

I walked up to the podium. I had prepared all week for this, but I was still nervous. It was going to be exciting to get to preach my ideas to the community of supporters in a spiritual context.

“Good morning, ladies. My name is Kelly Lawrence,” I said as I removed the microphone from its stand. I needed the microphone to be mobile. I wanted to walk around, to really connect with the audience.

“Some things have happened to me recently that I’d like to talk about. Before I realized that I was sexually attracted to women, I had this ex-boyfriend. Let’s call him Sandy.”

I cleared my throat as I started walking out into the center of the church. It was really just a renovated office with a bunch of folding chairs and a small altar. No kind of fancy church.

“Sandy and I went out for over a year. We were really close, but things just fell apart. I’m not really sure why.

“Anyway, we’re still close and all, so he comes to tell me about this new problem he has with his new girlfriend. They’ve been going out for a while now, and they decided to move in. She decides that she wants kids. She is willing to make the beautiful commitment to him to take part in the joy and suffering of having a family.”

I kept talking, being sure to make eye contact with the congregation and speak with confidence. I was actually a pretty good public speaker. “And all of a sudden, he’s not able to get an erection when they have sex. Now he’s not the best of communicators, so he doesn’t really express his feelings to her. Naturally this gets her upset, and she leaves.

“So now he comes to me for advice. He says, ‘Kelly, I don’t know what to do. I love her, but I don’t want kids. I just want to be able to get an erection again so I can have sex with her, so she’ll come back to me.’ Now to me, this doesn’t make much sense. Love is a feeling of creation. When you really love someone, when you really, truly love them with all your heart and soul, you want to create something with them that is truly beautiful. In the heterosexual context of love, this creation involves making a life. Making a soul.”

I paused and looked around the room. They seemed to be listening intently, but were a bit skeptical. I mean, a lot of these women were lesbians, so talking about heterosexual love isn’t exactly their cup of tea. They can turn on the boob tube any time of the day to hear about that.

I let that thought sink in before I continued speaking. “Now many of you are probably wondering why I’m saying this. ‘Aren’t we in a place that welcomes homosexuals? Why are you talking to us about this?’ You’re right. But my point is that love – all types of love -- is ultimately about evolution: evolution of the mind. Evolution of the soul. Evolution of the body.

“For homosexuals, this evolution involves evolving as a person. Through an encounter with another soul, we can each evolve individually. For heterosexuals, the evolution of love is more physical, more tangible. More earthly. It involves evolving in the biological sense. By serving nature’s purpose, heterosexuals are rewarded with love.”

I looked around. Some people still had skeptical looks on their faces, but others were smiling and nodding their heads in approval. “So that is the message of this homily, my message to the world. Love your neighbor, love your partner, love yourself. And in the process, help yourself and the world evolve both spiritually and physically.”

I walked back to the podium and placed the mic on the stand. The crowd cheered passionately. Mission accomplished.

************************************************** **

Jackpot.

After church, me and a few friends went through our usual routine: We went downtown and started looking for babies in dumpsters, trash cans, wherever. Like I said, we do this every week. Of course, it’s a shot in the dark – I found a baby once, but the chances of finding one are like one in a million. There’s a better chance of hitting the lottery.

This time, though, I hit the money.

“Oh my god.” I almost stopped breathing when I saw her. A little baby girl, wrapped in blankets lying in a dumpster. She was still alive, but not by much.

I gently lifted her up and showed her to my friends who were searching with me. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. Our labor had finally paid off. We were going to get the chance to save a life, to make a difference. The evolution of love was going to continue.

“I’m going to take her to the hospital,” I said to my friends as I started running to my car with the baby in my arms.

“Do you want us to come?” My friends seemed confused as to what to do. I mean, this wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence for us. And the one other time I found a baby I was alone.

“No, I’ll be fine. You guys call the hospital and tell them I’m on my way with a baby that’s about to die. Just keep looking, who knows what else is out there.” I quickly opened my car door and got inside. I turned on the ignition, and the engine roared to life. My set of wheels was going to mow down anything in my path.

Let me just say that I was driving like a mad woman through the streets. Cutting people off, honking my horn like crazy. I didn’t give a fuck. This baby wasn’t going to die because some motherfucker was doing 30 in a 45.
So I’m driving along, sweating like crazy. I looked at the baby. She was doing okay. “Just keep breathing, girl, keep breathing,” I said as I made an illegal left turn. “We’re going to get through this, just hold on.”

I admit that I should’ve been focusing all my energy on driving, not talking to a baby. But that doesn’t excuse what happened.

Remember that I was trying to save a life. Trying to continue the evolution of love.

As I sped through the streets on my way to the hospital, I nearly hit some guy. I don’t know who he was. Just a white guy with a freaky afro. Hair out to here. Seriously.

I honked my horn at him and kept going, but I ran into a red light right away. I thought about trying to run it, but I wasn’t going to make it. It was a big intersection and these huge trucks were rolling through, showing no signs of slowing down.

So I’m at the red light, impatiently waiting for it to turn green. I wasn’t going to let this kid die. No way.

I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the guy I almost hit, the white guy with the afro, coming towards the rear of my car. He didn’t look too happy. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t scared. This motherfucker was about the gawkiest looking thing this side of Weird Al. But I didn’t want to deal with some pissed off guy while I was trying to save this baby’s life.

So the motherfucker kept walking towards my car. He had this look on his face like he wanted revenge, but he wasn’t getting angry. It was like in all those horror movies where the evil villain just walks around killing people, never running or doing anything exciting. That was actually what was freaking me out the most.

Finally he reached the side of my car, right across from me and just outside the passenger seat door. I looked straight ahead. Fuck. Still red. This was a big intersection, and the red lights didn’t change quickly.

I looked right at him, and he just stared at me with an expressionless face. I didn’t know if I should have been scared or if I should’ve been laughing.
And then he spit on my car.

Now I guess most people wouldn’t like that too much. But I wasn’t most people. I didn’t just not like it; I hated it.

Remember that I dropped 75 grand on this set of wheels.

So no one fucks with my car. No one.

So I lost it. I hit the roof, so to speak. I got out of my car, with the engine running, with the baby in the passenger seat, and walked over to him.
Looking back, it definitely wasn’t the right thing to do. I mean, if I had just kept my cool, if had just continued on the way to the hospital, this whole thing never would’ve happened.

“Wipe it off.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I will not do that. My saliva on your car is symbolic of the punishment you should receive for violating my pedestrian rights.”
The traffic light had turned green by now, but I didn’t care. I was getting my revenge.

“You’re going to be in some serious pain if you don’t wipe your fucking spit off my car.”

“I’d prefer if this dispute was resolved in a pacifistic manner. But I simply refuse to wipe the spit off your car, for that would insinuate apology.”
And that’s when I kicked him.

I winded back and tossed a roundhouse kick to the side of his head. Normally I don’t kick to the head, just because it’s impractical and it’s actually not the most effective place to strike someone. But I did it this time.

And boy, did he go for a ride. The gawky-looking piece of shit landed on the sidewalk a few feet over.

By now I could hear horns honking, but I was too upset, too enraged, to just go back to my car. So I walked over to where this sorry sack of shit was lying. I stood over him.

“You ever fuck with my wheels again and it’ll be your ass. You hear me?”
He looked up at me, clearly dazed. And then all of sudden he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, dinky four inch knife.

For some reason, that scared me. I don’t know why. I could’ve literally killed him right then and there with a single strike. But the knife scared me. I guess I just didn’t want this dispute to become a bloodbath.

So my emotions slowly came down and sanity returned. “No man, don’t do that. Put the knife away,” I said as I gently pushed his hand down. He was too dazed too really fight back, thank god.

I started running to my car, as the thought of the baby became my top priority once again. By the time I got in the car, though, the light was red again. This whole time cars had been just going around mine, cursing at me while I was kicking the shit out of this guy. Looking back, the whole scenario must’ve been kind of funny in a way.

I hopped in my car and put it in drive, but there was nowhere for me to go. I was cursing at the traffic, worried the baby was going to die because I lost my temper.

And then I see that motherfucker come back to my car.

He knocks on the window of the passenger seat door and starts to smile. He holds up his knife, and then proceeds to chip paint off of the door panel. Now I had no idea what to do. The motherfucker’s looking me the whole time with this blank expression on his face, just calmly chipping paint away.

Remember that I dropped 75 grand on this set of wheels.

I had enough presence of mind to not get out of the car again, but I still did something I definitely regret. I reached over the baby and opened the door, pushing it out so that it hit the weirdo fucking up my car. In hindsight, this was probably the dumbest thing anyone could have done at the time. But hey, we live and learn.

I shouted at him while the door was open. “Get your fucking hands off my car.” He looked at me and smiled. The door knocked him back a little, but he quickly went right back at it again. He started chipping more paint off the door, which was now just barely open.

Boy, was I angry now. I looked at the traffic light; it was still red. There was still time. I reached over and tried to push the door open even more, just to get him away. That’s when I realized this guy is kinda clever in a way. He saw me coming, and he pulled the door open. So I nearly lost my balance, since I was counting on the door being there for me to push. And plus there’s the baby sitting right in the passenger seat, so I had to be real careful not to hit it in the process. It was almost dead, you know. Like I said, I was really being stupid here. This whole situation is something I’m going to regret for a long, long time.

And then it happened.

He must’ve seen the baby in the car or something. Cause as soon as I lost my balance, as soon as my guard was down, he moved. And boy, was he a quick motherfucker. He deftly reached his hands inside the car and took the baby.

Think about that. What the fuck.

Finally the light turns green. I tried to grab his hand while he was stealing the baby, but I ended up just pulling the baby’s blanket off. So now this poor, nearly dead baby is running around in the arms of a fucking lunatic.

But I had no intention of giving up. No I did not.

I made a right turn and started following this baby-stealer down the street. I was honking my horn constantly, trying to get someone to see that this guy was obviously stealing a baby. But the streets were crowded. You know how people are in crowds. No one’s gonna volunteer to be the angel.