Sunday School Road

Sunday School Road
May 12, 2009

I didn’t know it when it happened
I took hold of the road early
Nothing the same since.

It began when I left my mother at the church,
worried, a congregation of tears
her child surely kidnapped
I told her I was going to use the bathroom
walked out of the sanctuary,
down the condemning hallway,
pushed out the heavy, double doors of heaven
and walked past the school, the graveyard and my innocence
in the chilled March air.

Looking back I find it almost justified, sacred even
Jesus walked the land too, after all
his church was out there
Why couldn’t mine be?

I was bound to wander off sooner or later
Why not start at nine,
see what it’s like

Damn right I was scared.
Not sure why I kept going
It was 3 miles to my house
I was about halfway home when I wished I’d stayed put
I didn’t want to be in church though
A sinner right then, I guess

I passed the farms and kicked along the gravel roads of my hometown
The fear I knew I gave my mother tore me up
still does
But I huffed along
stubborn kid
I didn’t want to sit on Sunday,
eyes glazed, childishly oblivious to the preacher
but now I see there was a Sunday school lesson of the utmost importance that day anyway

My dad still called the cops though
He was home sleeping-in when my mom called to alert him
I cowered by the chimney of our house
fearful of what to do when I walked in.
My dad was on the phone when I slowly cracked the door.
“Nevermind officer - I just found him.”

I don’t really recall much after that
I few hard words, time in my room,
my mom in tears with reprimands and hugs combined
My dad laughs at it today,
says, “You remember when you just decided to walk home from church that time?
Scared us to death! Now here you are Jack Kerouac on all your trips!”

It was the dumbest stunt I ever pulled
but I don’t regret it
Sooner or later
we all leave,
enter the desert -
walk as far as it takes to either escape youth
or remember it

Now
When the air is cool enough and the sky is a damning overcast mural
I walk down the road sometimes
and I’m 9 again
missing from the pew
enjoying the best sermon of my life.