Splashing Between the Lanes

Chapter 2

The heated aroma of crispy, sizzling bacon climbed up the stairway, sliding through every crevice of the smoothed-over wooden frame, separating the rest of the house from my domain as I lay wildly in bed. It filled the air, dancing beneath my nostrils as the sound of gospel echoed through the entire house. I was sprawled under the satin sheets, thinking as I did every Sunday morning about how much I didnt want to get up. Ugh, I do not feel like going to church.

There was a hint of anger in my soul and just as the thought seemed to lessen, still lingering a bit, my dads voice broke the air. If yall goin to church, get up and get ready.

It was as if we didnt have a whole hour before it started and if that didnt mean anything, we also live literally a hop and a skip away. We had nothing but time to waste and didnt need the overly aggressive wake-up call on a weekend morning to interrupt another peaceful sleep, so I remained in bed contemplating. This was one of those times that made me ready for junior year next fall. I would be staying on campus then and wouldnt feel so bad about not waking up for church every Sunday morning.

To get up, or not to get up, that is the question. But it was short-lived because I went ahead and got up anyway, only to avoid any further shouting so early. It took some serious effort to get past the thought of all the sleep I could still be getting right now.

I went to the bathroom first, as I did every other morning for the past nineteen years of my existence, assuming I started brushing my teeth sometime around the age of one. Then I hopped down to the kitchen, where the sound of praise and worship resumed a little louder now, bringing life to my day.

My brother, Trey, was the first person I saw downstairs standing in nothing but his red Hanes boxer shorts. This was his usual morning attire. He was stomping toward the stove to get in the kitchen, fix a plate, and disappear back up to his room until church, of course. This was his usual routine. The plate he used was never to be seen again. I tell you, dishes seemed to make it to his room and never come out. I learned early on not to get too wrapped up on claiming one single dish Mom bought for the house as my favorite. There was no point because as soon as he got ahold of it, I knew I would never see it again. I figured that was also a part of why we recently invested so heavily in Styrofoam plates.

I will say, as weird as it sounds, that one day he just went straight to his room, locked the door, and didnt come out until the rest of the house was asleep late one night. Since he started college this year, its only gotten worse. I enjoy every bit of it though, and how empty the house always seems to be since the trend began. Before, he would always take the Xbox and hook it up to the TV in the living room and lounge around all day, well whenever hes actually home, but now we rarely see him. Now I could actually watch TV in the living room, at pretty much any time of the day if I cared to.

Praise the Lord everybody; praise the Lord

Praise the Lord everybody; praise the Lord

Praise the Lord everybody; praise the Lord

Everybody ought to praise the Lord.

The music poured through to the outside as we walked up to the church doors. It claimed the entire parking lot, even managing to drift a few yards beyond the premises. We finally pushed the one open door that wasnt always temporarily locked and took the walk of shame. Thats what I called it, being that we were the fresh faces and everyone watched us walk in until we found a space big enough to fit all of us.

Luckily, I hadnt experienced the shame that came with having to split from my group to sit alone because of a full house. This was one of the perks of going to a close knit neighborhood country church. There werent too many regular guests or visitors, and half of the congregation was either family or family friends, so it was a win-win. Between elementary school and church, this is where I met Tim.