Expelled for Cheating

Jon Van Horne and Curt Holgate were friends, having taught and coached together, but Curt had called as a vice principal today, not a friend. He somberly explained that Shawna had been caught in the act of stealing biology exams from the teacher's files. She was in his office now and still crying pretty hard.

Jon was immediately aware of the consequence for such misbehavior, which was automatic in the district. Curt had even apologized when announcing that Shawna would be expelled for the rest of the term. Jon said he would be at the school in twenty minutes to take her home.

Jon rubbed his forehead. It's been going so well with Shawna, and now this, he lamented silently. She was actually talking to me a little about the camp problem and Rik and getting along with her mother. We worked on homework together. She even cooked dinner for me a couple of times. She seemed like my sweet little girl again. What is going on in her brain that causes her to steal biology exams? She's not even taking biology. And why is she crying? Because she's sorry for what she did or because she got caught?

Stealing the Exam

Shawna's stomach flip-flopped nervously. But thinking of Destiny and the other Belles who had proved themselves in similar ways, it was also a thrilling thing to do. Destiny's right, Shawna assured herself. I'm borrowing, not stealing. And even if the girls who study from the test are cheating—and I still think they are—at least I'm not cheating. And in just a few minutes, it will all be over and I'll be a Lindley Belle.

She found the exam right where Destiny said it would be and started making copies. Shawna's excitement mounted. Nobody would ever know about this except the Belles. And she would be a Belle before the semester ended. Shawna shoved the pages into her book bag and returned the original exam. She was halfway to the door when she heard the handle rattle. She sucked in a breath, and it froze in her chest.

Then a new sound paralyzed her with fear: a key slipping into the lock and turning. This was a stupid idea, Shawna. Why did you listen to Destiny again? Mr. Nguyen entered the room and asked, "What's going on?" Doing her best to return his stare, Shawna replied, "M-my friend, uh . . . Tara Marshall thought she left her jacket in here," she stammered. It sounded stupid as soon as she said it.

Shawna knew he could see through her flimsy excuse. Finally Mr. Nguyen extended his hand. "Let me see your book bag," he said sternly. Before she could get the bag off her shoulder, Shawna dropped her gaze and began to cry.

Borrowing or Stealing

The Belles comprised a secret sorority of handpicked eighth and ninth graders at Lindley Junior High. Shawna did not know who the Belles were or exactly what they did—that really was a big secret. She did know that there were no adult advisors, but all the girls at Lindley knew that being invited to pledge the Belles was the ultimate in cool. Shawna was not positive she wanted to be a Belle, and she knew her dad would be upset if he found out. But Destiny wanted Shawna to be a Belle, and Shawna could hardly resist the magnetism of this popular, fearless classmate. "Got it," Shawna answered. "No questions.”

Destiny whispered, “Find the biology exam, make a copy of it on Nguyen's machine, then put the original back. I'll be in the quad at 4:15." "Isn't that stealing?" Shawna offered weakly. Destiny scowled at Shawna, "You're borrowing the exam. A couple of Belles in Nguyen's class need to ace this test. When I tell them you got the test for them, they'll vote you right in. Hey, it's only cheating if they see the answers. You're only borrowing the questions for them. They still have to study for the exam. Does that sound like cheating to you?" "Guess not," Shawna said.

If You Want to Be a Belle

"Mr. Nguyen will be out on the baseball field until four-thirty. Make sure his room is empty, then go inside and lock the door behind you. The cabinet is right behind his desk. Unlock it with this." Destiny made sure no one was watching, then she pressed a small key into her friend's palm.

Shawna hoped Destiny did not notice how sweaty her hand was. She had not been this nervous since the night they sneaked out of camp. "Where'd you get this?" she asked, quickly jamming the key into the pocket of her jeans. She was awed that Destiny could get ahold of the key to a teacher's filing cabinet.

"Tara Marshall, Nguyen's TA this semester, and another Lindley Belle," Destiny said proudly. Then she glanced around again. "The Belles do anything for each other. They swear it. If you want to be a Belle, you do what we say—no questions. Got it?"

Status Quo

Ironically, Juanita Dunsmuir is battling to retain the status quo for her home state: tolerance, legalized marijuana, gay rights, children's rights, abortion rights, clear separation between church and state. Bellardi is out to change all that. He wants to take North California back to the morals of the 1950s.

From what Stevie gathered, Bellardi shrewdly exchanged his money for influence, magically transformed his influence into public support, and bought himself a small pond: the new state of North California. He strongly believes that tolerance as our culture defines it does away with absolutes, standards, convictions, and conscience. He is banking on a hope that the people who helped him establish North California will help him create an outpost of Judeo-Christian values based not on tolerance but on love, respect, moral values, and truth.

Singer v. Politician

Stevie knew little more about Juanita Dunsmuir than what she saw in the media. The singer lived hard, fast, and loose, she had heard. And Dunsmuir always seemed to align herself with political candidates Stevie opposed. But she made good music. Stevie found it hard to believe that the singer was any threat to an established political leader like Bellardi.

He expected to march into the governor's office without a threat from the unconventional and inexperienced Dunsmuir troops. But like the ragtag revolutionary colonists, Juanita Dunsmuir pops out of the bushes with her funky concerts all over the state and starts taking potshots at Bellardi. And the senator is taking some hits in the polls. The two states are under the same laws now. But if Bellardi and conservative legislators are swept into power, four years from now the laws of North California won't look anything like the laws on the books today.

Singer or Governor

Once a measure was approved by Congress to divide the state, Stevie seldom gave another thought to the small new state to the north. She certainly didn't know anyone was interested in fighting over a state with no large cities, no amusement parks, and no movie or television studios. Curious, she pulled up the volume to listen.

The TV host was introducing the topic. A guest sat on either side of him. All wore business suits of blue or gray. "—there would be a contest to govern a population largely made up of conservatives who have no use for places like L.A. or San Francisco. By an act of sleight of hand, Dan Bellardi and his band of magicians made North California magically appear. And it seemed that his magic in the north would continue until the voters woke up on November second to discover that Bellardi was the state's first governor."

"But apparently, long-time activist and folksinger Juanita Dunsmuir has conjured up a way to break Bellardi's spell. Her decision to run for governor was viewed by many in politics and the entertainment industry as a publicity stunt to resuscitate record sales, that is, until she hit the road with her Freedom Tour."

Morality Challenges

The city school district had sold out to values-neutral education, setting kids adrift without a moral compass. Cheating had evolved into a science, justified and practiced at some level by most students. Junior high health classes stressed safe sex for kids instead of no sex. Teachers regularly had students role-play sexual situations and practice putting condoms on bananas. Kids today seemed just as embarrassed at being labeled virgins as Stevie's generation had been at being labeled promiscuous.

Stevie believed in prayer. But for all her praying, this mountain—the godless culture in which she struggled to raise godly kids—was getting larger instead of smaller. The world had already reeled in her Dougie, and the hook apparently was set in Shawna's jaw. If God didn't give her some answers soon, Stevie held little hope that Collin would survive. God, if my baby is taken away from me too . . . Stevie lamented silently as a tide of despair ebbed nearer.

God's Silence

Consciously accepting that prayer sometimes worked for her, Stevie was even more acutely aware of God's silence in response to the major petitions of her life. For all she prayed that her children would be protected from a worldly lifestyle, Stevie was worried that Shawna was being sucked right into it. There were times when Stevie had even begun to hope and pray that her family might be together again. But Shawna seemed headed in the opposite direction.

Then there was the disheartening issue of the moral climate in which her struggles were being played out. For years Stevie had prayed for godly civic leaders and tougher laws in Los Angeles County, only to see things get increasingly worse. Anarchy had already gained a foothold in south-central L.A.; even the police unofficially avoided some parts of it. Marijuana was legal for adults. A measure legalizing "brothel zones" in the county would be on the November ballot, an attempt to regulate prostitution and curb the spread of sexually transmitted diseases. The latest polls revealed that the well-financed measure had a good chance of passing.

No Immunity

The fact that Stevie and Collin had escaped death at the hands of an unknown gunman was clearly an answer to prayer. And someone must have been praying for her afterward, too. Unable to work for days due to the trauma, Stevie had considered moving out of the Valley. But she kept returning to the same question: Where can we find immunity from such savagery? It pervades the entire greater Los Angeles area. So she consoled herself with the improbable odds that she could be a random target more than once. Just to be safe, she moved her bedroom furniture into Shawna's room next to Collin's room at the back of the house and beefed up the alarm system.

What Does Prayer Accomplish?

Stevie analyzed what all this praying might have accomplished. One huge answer to prayer was obvious: the state had decided not to press charges against her for abusing Shawna's rights and destroying her property. The court system was so choked with serious child-abuse cases—abandonment, assault, rape, murder—that Stevie had been let off with a stern reprimand and an order to compensate Shawna for her losses.

Reflecting on the email fiasco, Stevie had to admit that her daughter's relationship with Rik might have been discovered as a result of prayer. The curious impulse to open Shawna's email, though it precipitated Shawna's departure, allowed Stevie to nip in the bud her daughter's relationship with a potential sex criminal. Yet Shawna was still gone, choosing to live with her father, something neither she nor Jon wanted. Stevie agonized daily that worldly influences and temptations might lead her daughter farther and farther away.

Doubting Prayer

"How about you?" the pastor asked. He had seen her at her worst during and after the divorce. Stevie couldn't help but interpret his question as, "You're not slipping back into depression, are you?" "Really good, thank you, Pastor," she said, trying to sound upbeat.

Before turning away he gripped her shoulder and said, "We're praying for you, Stephanie." Coming from anyone else, the words might have sounded condescending. But Stevie was convinced that the pastor meant it. She just wasn't sure that it was doing any good.

Enjoying the minutes of relative tranquility while completing a mindless task, Stevie drifted back to the pastor's parting comment: "We're praying for you, Stephanie." Only people in the outer circle of her relationships called her Stephanie. He clearly saw himself as her pastor, not her friend— which was fine, because Stevie was uncomfortable calling him anything but Pastor. But his statement, and the conviction with which he had delivered it, was that of a caring friend.

A few other friends at church were praying for her too, Stevie knew. And despite her doubts and frequently flagging spirits, Stevie had not stopped praying herself. But prayers seldom progressed beyond the topic of her own needs and disappointments, and that bothered her.