Mechanical by Pauline C. Harris Page A

up
front with her parents. Michael and I crammed into the back.
    “Good morning,” Michael said to us, although
he was looking at me. By now Jessica was just irritated with the
way he was acting toward me and breezed right by him with an
annoyed glance.
    We rode for about ten minutes then pulled up
in front of a tall, white building. Inside the church were pews,
and I followed Jessica’s family as they walked up the center aisle
and sat down. Stained glass windows covered the walls, reflecting
different arrays of colored light and shapes. Paintings lined the
walls, but I didn't recognize the people in them.
    During the service, I watched Jessica’s
family intently. They gazed attentively during the sermon and I saw
them sing along with many of the songs. Everyone around us seemed
to have the same fascination and wore smiles on their faces. They
looked peaceful. Oddly, I felt happy as well, although I had no
idea why.
    As we exited the church afterward, I noticed
many kids from school had also attended. Upon seeing us, some
headed our way.
    “A lot of kids from school go here,” Jessica
explained when I looked their way in confusion. A growing crowd of
people were milling around, talking to each other as the kids from
school approached us.
    “Hey, Jessica. Hi, Drew.”
    “Hi guys,” Jessica answered then asked about
a student who hadn’t attended. I didn’t contribute much to the
conversation but was glad to be included anyway. I was still
marveling at all of the people. They were so happy. They had
something—something that set them apart from others. Jessica and
other kids at school seemed to have something ... different. But no
matter how hard I had tried to imitate them, I could never manage
it. I couldn’t figure out where their contentment had come
from.
    Now I knew. Their happiness, their composure,
their smiles came from the joy they found here. They had something
I somehow could never grasp, but now I knew what it was.
    They had faith. Like the kind Jessica had
explained to me earlier. They had blind faith in something they
couldn’t see; the faith I had criticized. They believed in
something. I still wasn’t sure whether it existed or not, but they
believed in it and that seemed to be enough.
    Suddenly, I was shocked to realize that I
wanted it as well. I wanted to feel the same way they did and to
have that light that seemed to radiate from them. I wanted
to find what they so openly held. I wanted something greater than
me, greater than the creators, to believe in. And I knew I would
search until I found it.

Chapter Eleven

    “Drew, I have a swim meet in about a half
hour, so I have to get ready,” Jessica told me once we had arrived
home from church. “Do you know if your parents are going to pick
you up?”
    I paused. I hadn’t even thought to ask Glen
about that. Well ... in all of the two seconds I had been on the
phone with him, I hadn’t really had time to ask.
    “If they can’t, you can always just hang out
here,” Jessica said. “My parents wouldn’t mind. And then later we
can drive you home,” she added, as we headed into the living room
to get her swim bag.
    “Hey, I can give her a ride,” Michael’s voice
piped from the chair in the corner.
    Jessica gave him a funny look. It was
becoming one of her regular expressions. “Um ... okay. Do you mind
Drew?” she asked skeptically.
    I shook my head.
    “Okay, great.” Michael smiled, getting up.
“I’ll go get the car.”
    Jessica watched him leave the room, her
eyebrows knitted together in thought. “Huh,” she said after he’d
left. “He never gives me rides.”
    “Jess, you’re going to be late,” her dad
called from another room.
    “Oops, okay,” she replied. “Sorry Drew, I
gotta run. We should definitely hang out again sometime, this was
fun.”
    “Yeah,” I agreed.
    “Michael probably has the car out front by
now. See you at school tomorrow!” She waved and hurried off.
    I went upstairs, grabbed my bag