Chapter 41: A Good Sense of Humor

October 17, 1981, McKinley, Ohio

There was a knock at the door just before 6:00pm, and I was sure it was the girls, so I called out for them to come in. As expected, it was Jeannette and Marie.

"Ready for hot meat between buns and slurping creamy white liquid?" Jeannette teased.

"My bedroom is right there!" I grinned.

"Should we leave you two the room?" Marie smirked.

"Dinner first, then dessert!" Jeannette laughed.

I took Angie's hand, and the four of us left the dorm and headed for the burger joint just off campus. I laughed and shook my head when all three girls ordered vanilla shakes. I was pretty sure what was going to happen, and I was proved right a few minutes later when our drinks were delivered. All three of them sucked on their straws, then opened their mouths to show me the vanilla milkshake, then made a big show of swallowing.

I decided I could have a bit of fun on my own.

"Do that again, Angie," I grinned.

She did, and showed me her tongue. I moved and quickly kissed her, sharing our first French kiss. Jeannette and Marie gasped then laughed. I broke the kiss and looked smugly at the two girls across the table.

"I'd pay money to see you do THAT for real!" Marie laughed.

"Money, hell!" Jeannette laughed. "I'd blow him to see him do that!"

"Is that an offer?" I grinned.

"Eat your dinner!" she laughed.

"I can think of at least one better use for his mouth," Marie teased.

The girls all laughed, and I smiled. I was very much enjoying the company and the teasing. While I enjoyed the sober, intellectual conversations, this was fun. I was laughing, and the girls were laughing, and I liked it. A lot.

Most importantly, it helped me take my mind off the situation with Nancy. I really wanted to talk to her, but she'd made a point of avoiding me, so there wasn't much I could do until she wanted to talk. Tuesday would be interesting, but I wasn't going to worry about it until then. I pushed those thoughts from my mind and concentrated on the girls.

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"Mason," Marie said. "Not far from King's Island."

"Shawnee Hills," Jeannette said. "Just north of Columbus."

"Majors? I'm biochemistry for pre-med, if Angie didn't tell you."

"She did," Jeannette said. "Sociology."

"English lit," Marie said. "with a secondary education certificate."

We talked a bit about our classes while we finished eating, then left the restaurant.

"Ice cream?" Marie asked.

"Only if all three of you get soft-serve cones," I teased.

The girls laughed.

"I think you've created a monster, Angie!" Marie laughed.

"He learns quickly," Jeannette replied. "The number one trait for consideration for any boyfriend!"

"You were the one who said dessert was slurping creamy white liquid!" I teased.

"And you'll kiss me after I swallow it?"

I had an uneasy feeling as if we'd moved to a new level beyond just being silly, and I didn't feel comfortable.

"I'd need Angie's permission," I said.

"What?!" Jeannette asked in surprise.

"I'm not going to do anything to upset her," I said.

"Well, that got serious fast," Marie said.

I nodded, "Sorry, I just felt uneasy."

"We may have pushed too far, too fast," Jeannette said. "Let's go get our ice cream, and we'll tone it down a bit."

"Thanks," I said.

We got our ice cream at Verner's and sat at a table inside. The conversation was seriously toned down from what it had been before, and when we finished our ice cream, we walked back to the dorm. Jeannette and Marie said 'good night' and Angie and I went to my room. I put on All Shook Up by Cheap Trick. I sat down on the couch next to Angie as the first phrases of Stop This Game came from the speakers.

"That teasing was all OK," Angie said, snuggling close.

"I just felt weird," I said, putting my arm around her.

"It's a fine line between innocent teasing and flirting and flirting with a purpose."

"Which was that?" I asked.

"Let's just say a different response from you might have gotten you what you were teasing about."

"Which is what concerned me," I said. "I know we're not a couple, but after what you told me about your boyfriend and your friend, it just felt wrong."

"I appreciate it, but as I said, I have no claims on you. If you ARE interested in either of them, well, we're not even really dating yet..."

"And you would be OK with that?"

"I didn't say that at all. Remember what I said about accepting the consequences of your actions. Maybe, in the end, it wouldn't make a difference, but I'm not sure. When it comes right down to it, it's up to you, but it's a risk."

"Not one I'm interested in taking. I do have a question for you, though."

"Your friend back home?"

"Yes. She's dating, and I'm dating, but we'll probably see each other when I go home at Thanksgiving."

"And you wonder how that would affect us?"

I nodded, "I just want to know what the rules of the game are. Then I can decide what to do."

"You were burned by assumptions with your girlfriend here."

"Exactly. I don't want to make the same mistake twice."

"Well, as I said earlier, we aren't a couple, and I don't own you or control you. I mean, I wouldn't if we were a couple, but you know what I mean, right?"

"I do."

"I suppose it depends on what you're looking for and what you want from me. And what you're willing to offer. We both have to agree on the same set of rules, or it's going to end miserably. I like hanging out with you, and if you want to just keep doing that, you can pretty much do what you want. If you want more than some kissing, then I need more. If you're just looking for fun, I'm not the girl you want. Marie or Jeannette would be better choices in that case. Neither of them wants a steady boyfriend. They just want to have fun, if you get my drift."

"They were pretty clear about that," I said.

Angie laughed, "They weren't even half as outrageous as I've seen them be! They had a bit of mercy on you. I can tease and joke with them, but like you, I need to stop before it gets out of control. They prefer that it get out of control if they like the guy. And they seemed to like you. Heck, they probably like you enough you could have both of them."

My brain nearly short-circuited at the mental images caused by THAT thought. Two girls at once? It took me a minute before my brain began working enough to respond, but Angie spoke first.

"You looked like you were about to have a stroke or something," she laughed. "You had that image in your mind?"

I nodded, "Uh, yeah."

"Wait! You had never considered that before?"

I shook my head, "I had enough trouble trying to manage a relationship of any kind with one girl, let alone even THINK seriously about something like that! Sure, the occasional joke was made, but never in a way I actually considered it. You were serious?"

Angie giggled and shrugged, "You'd have to ask. But that's probably a red line for me if you know what I mean."

"Uh, yeah, I could see that. Why would you even think about putting up with something that outrageous?"

"Mike, that's not even barely scraping the surface of outrageous," Angie said quietly. "You weren't kidding about being sheltered."

I shrugged, "I guess I never saw that as a bad thing."

"It's not, so long as you're open-minded and not afraid to learn new things."

"Like that?" I chuckled.

"If you had that chance, and I wasn't here, what would you do?"

"I have no idea. I mean, sure, the crazy images in my head were VERY interesting, but I know myself well enough to know I'd probably freak out if the actual possibility presented itself."

"It is one of the top fantasies amongst men!"

"Until five minutes ago, I never even considered the possibility. And it's not real, anyway, because I like spending time with you."

"You're passing up a chance at wild, crazy, uninhibited, no-strings-attached sex with TWO girls in favor of sitting here cuddling with me?"

"Yes."

"You may be a keeper after all."

October 18, 1981, McKinley, Ohio

"You're sure about this?"

"Yes. After last night, it makes sense, doesn't it?"

"OK, then let's go."

Angie and I left the dorm and headed for my car for the drive to Saint Michael the Archangel Church. She'd shown up at my door earlier that morning, asking if I wanted her to go along. I'd said she was welcome and asked her to meet me in my room at 8:30am. The only minor kink in the matter was going to confession during Matins. I explained that to Angie, who was used to the Roman Catholic 'priest in a box' confession used by the Romans.

When we arrived at church, I let one of the acolytes know I wanted Father Nicholas to hear my confession. He went into the altar and came back a moment later to let me know that Father would hear my confession during the Canon, which was the normal time for confession during Matins. I moved back to stand with Angie as Matins began. After psalms, prayers, litanies, hymns, and the Gospel, the congregation recited Psalm 50 (Psalm 51 in Protestant Bibles), and then the choir began singing the Canon.

Father Nicholas came out and stood before the icon of Christ and signaled for me to join him. He said the prayer before confession then asked me about my sins. I plainly and simply told him about having sex with Emmy and Becky, without using names, and the struggles I was having. He gently quizzed me on my feelings and my intentions, simply asking questions without making any comments. I also confessed other things where I'd felt I'd fallen short of the mark, and Father Nicholas listened intently.

"Michael," he said when I finished, "I can declare God forgives you of the things for which you have repented. For the other things, I can only agree with you that you have fallen short of the mark in a serious way, and do my best to help you deal with your struggles. I want you to follow the fasting rules strictly, pray each morning and evening, and read the daily Scripture readings, the text for the saints of the day, and the appointed Psalms. Do you promise to do these things?"

"Yes, Father."

"Then it would be very unwise of me to deny you the very medicine for which you come to the Church. If in your heart you feel you can approach the chalice in love for God and in humility, then do so. But as you know, if your heart is not right, the medicine of immortality becomes a deadly poison."

"I understand, Father."

"Then, may our Lord and God Jesus Christ, through the grace and bounties of his love towards mankind, forgive you my child, Michael, your transgressions; and I, an unworthy priest, who has no power to forgive, but through the power given to me by Him, do declare you to be forgiven and absolved from all the sins which you have confessed and for which you have repented: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."

He removed his epitrachil from my shoulders and returned to the altar. I went to stand next to Angie and listened to the remainder of the Canon, then the prayers and hymns, which led directly into the Divine Liturgy. As I prayed and listened, I contemplated the icon of Christ and the status of my heart. It had been a long time since I'd partaken of the Eucharist, and I felt the burning need to do so. When the time came, I joined the line and moved forward, my arms crossed across my chest.

Before I stepped forward, I made a metania, touching my hand to the rug, then making the sign of the cross before crossing my arms again. I stepped up, tilted my head back, and opened my mouth.

"The servant of God, Michael, partakes of the precious and all-holy Body and Blood of our Lord and God and Savior Jesus Christ, unto the remissions of sins and unto life everlasting."

Father Nicholas tipped the spoon, allowing the consecrated bread and wine to pour from the spoon and into my mouth.

"Amen," I said, then moved to my left to receive the antidoron and blessed, but not consecrated, wine. I ate the bread and sipped the wine, then picked up a piece of bread to take to Angie, as was the Orthodox custom for those who could not receive the Eucharist for whatever reason. I handed it to her.

"It's blessed bread," I whispered, "not communion bread. It's meant to share in the feast if you cannot partake."

She nodded and ate the bread. About twenty minutes later, when the service ended, we joined the rest of the congregation in the basement for coffee and bagels. I suppressed a chuckle when I saw a very disappointed look on the face of a cute girl who looked to be sixteen or seventeen. I'd recalled seeing her when I'd been at church before and had no doubt some «бабушка» (babushka) had identified me as a possible match.

We spoke with a few teens and a couple of adults, then we walked over to Mr. Sokolov. After I introduced Angie as my friend, I let him know that Paula was covering for me for my afternoon shift because I had something I needed to do.

"I interviewed three students this week. If it's OK with you, I'd like to reassign your Tuesday and Thursday hours to one of them. And if Paula wants the Sunday hours, she could have them."

I nodded, "That's perfect. Starting when?"

"Work this Tuesday and Thursday, then you'll only have Saturdays until you tell me otherwise."

"Perfect! «Большое спасибо» (bolshoye spasibo)." ("Many thanks")

"«Пожалуйста» (pozhaluysta). I will see you next Sunday, Mikhail Petrovich!" ("You're welcome")

"Yes."

"Good!"

Angie and I finished our coffee and bagels, said 'goodbye' to Mr. Sokolov, and left the church.

"You speak Russian?" Angie asked.

"Like a retarded six-year-old!" I chuckled. "That much I could handle. Saying 'Thank you very much'. It gets tricky once it gets past the basic conversation and polite phrases because I don't use it all that much. I used to speak better."

"And what was that with your name?"

"Michael Peter is my legal name, but in Russian, it's 'Mikhail Petrovich', which is Michael, son of Peter. My sister Liz is 'Elizaveta Petrovna', which is Elizabeth, daughter of Peter."

"That's cool. So your kids would get your first name as their middle name?"

"It's not technically a middle name; it's a patronymic. But it works out the same. So my sons would get 'Michael' and my daughters 'Michelle'. Or in Russian, 'Mikhailovich' and 'Mikhailovna'."

"That's really cool. Your last name isn't Russian, is it?"

"No, it's Dutch. Some of my dad's ancestors were here before the US was founded. My mom is Rahil Mikhailovna Loucks. I'm named for my maternal grandfather, Mikhail Ivanovich Borodin. He and my grandmother emigrated from Russia."

"So his dad's name was Ivan, then?"

"Yes. That's 'John' in English. If I followed the pattern, I would name my first son 'Peter Michael', though 'John Michael' would be possible, too."

"Wild! Well, that's a LONG way off!"

"For sure!" I agreed.

"So what's your penance? I mean, if I'm allowed to ask."

I chuckled, "Your usual one is some number of Hail Marys and Our Fathers, or maybe a decade of the rosary, right?"

"Pretty much, yeah. My dad says it's like a car wash — drive in, get clean, drive out!"

I laughed, "Wow! That's crazy."

"Forty-five-minute-long Saturday evening masses, too. We just spent, what, three-and-a-half hours in church?"

"Roughly, yes."

"So, will you share?"

"I have to say morning and evening prayers, which take ten to fifteen minutes each, the daily scripture readings, the appointed Psalms, read the short text for the saint of the day, and keep the Wednesday and Friday fasts, plus the other fasting days."

"For how long?"

"Until I die."

"Say what?!" Angie asked in surprise.

"I do some of that already, anyway. I say my prayers after I come back from our run. That's one reason I have the icons, votive lamp, and censer in my room."

"Isn't that kind of harsh?"

"Not really. If you're faithful, you do those things. I did them fairly regularly at home, so it's more or less a pattern. One thing I'm not doing, which he also didn't ask me to do, is come to church on Wednesdays and Saturdays. But he knows how busy college students are, and if I'm praying and fasting, he's not going to push the issue."

"OK, this is totally out of line, but will you tell me what you did?"

"Got laid," I said honestly.

She laughed, "You actually went up there, stood face to face with the priest, and told him you had sex?"

"I did, but I wasn't face-to-face with the priest. I was face-to-face with the icon of Christ, thus standing before HIM with the priest there as my witness."

"Wait, you don't confess to the priest?"

"Nope. Directly to God. The priest is only there as a witness and then to provide guidance and advice."

"And he forgave you for having sex?"

"Nope."

"Then how did you go to communion?"

"It's called «ekonomia», which is similar to the word it sounds like in English. It carries the meaning of 'dispensation' in this context. If he did the opposite, pretty much every teen and young adult would be forbidden from receiving the very medicine they need to cure their ills. Our true illness is mortality; sin is just a symptom. The chalice contains the medicine of immortality in the form of consecrated bread and wine."

"Do you believe it turns into the actual body and blood of Christ?"