But, like, isn't ever church's different? Or are they really that standardized, like everyone across the whole country has to wear the same polyester sack. That's depressing.
[ To Eddie, the idea of that kind of conformity chafes for more than one reason, but she supposes it makes sense. Presumably church follows the same script every week, in pretty much every church — yes, she's aware enough to realize that Catholics and Baptists probably have pretty different services in terms of tone, if not content — so it makes sense that their uniform is standardized too.
Maybe she can get Chris to sew a patch on his robe or something. ]
An angel choir! [ She crows with laughter, nudging her knees hard into his to make him rock a little, her eyes sparkling with glee. ] You know, I can see it. [ Tapping her chin with her free hand again, she squints at him and then waves her hand around in the air like she's drawing a circle over his head. ] Yep. Makes perfect sense.
[His expression drifts to amused puzzlement at the initial question, but before he can actually answer she's having altogether too much fun with something that had always kind of vaguely annoyed him in a way he couldn't pin down, still can't, but her amusement is worth it and he just snorts softly, shaking his head even though his smile has emerged all over again] Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, I don't even know if that's actually what it's for, that's just my best guess.
[An exaggerated shrug follows] And I haven't really had a chance to, you know, shop around and check out other congregations' choir robes, but I don't think they'd be that different, some churches get the name of the church embroidered on them, but apparently that's vanity, so we don't do that. [He shakes his head] Honestly though between you and me, I think it's just because we can't afford to have it done.
[ She'd probably stop laughing if it was clear Chris was actually upset; as it stands, since he's reluctantly smiling and all but rolling his eyes at her as she laughs, she lets herself indulge in her brief hysterics, wiggling a little on the bed as Chris shakes his head at her. ] I love it. Do you think you can steal one for Halloween? I have some devil horns around here somewhere, we could match.
[ Belatedly, she realized she just asked him to do a couple's costume with her for Halloween, an absolutely absurd notion, but it's too late to take back now. Hopefully he'll just think she's joking and dismiss the idea without actually considering it. ]
Oh, that's too bad. It would be funnier if you got your own name embroidered on them, though. Like name tags.
[He laughs then, shaking his head again] Our own names on them? That would be worse than vanity, that would just be tacky [Another head shake, still grinning and only barely managing not to laugh again] We're a church choir for Christ's sake, not a bowling team.
[He settles back on his hands again] Honestly it's because there's only like three sizes, so we probably end up wearing the same one as someone else, um, probably a lot more than I actually want to think about.
[ Well that makes her laugh even harder, Chris's emphasis on tacky feeling like the funniest thing in the world. She's pretty sure he's just quoting someone like his mom, but who knows. Maybe he does have really strong opinions on bowling teams. ]
[He is parroting, but only in tone and not in content, he's not the only one of the teens who will likely be leaving the church as soon as they're able, though in his case it's likely to be longer than some of them, and he's not sure what else he would do instead, but that's something to worry about later.
His nose wrinkles at the question, but it's amusement and not disgust] Weekly, that's part of the administration's duty roster. One of the new admin assistants 'forgot' one week and was gone before the following week.
[ She grins at him and waves a dismissive hand in his face. ] Well then in that case, you have nothing to worry about! Freshly washed weekly? Y'all are spoiled, is what you are.
[ Eddie spent the first ten years of her life down in North Carolina. Her accent has faded pretty significantly since she moved to the Midwest, but every now and then, a little Southern drawl will slip out, usually when she's drunk or high or really relaxed.
Or if she and Wayne are fighting. Then they just egg each other on. ]
[He smiles again, can't help it, that edge of a drawl is endearing as hell, as is the assessment itself, because she's probably not wrong on that] Well you're probably not wrong, but it does come with having to deal with my mom twice, since she's the assistant choir director and thinks she's chief admin, there isn't such a thing, but she's been there longest.
Oh no, does your mom make you help wash the robes when it's her turn or something?
[ The Cunninghams are rich enough that she's certain they have both a washing machine and a dryer, and pretty decent quality ones, too. That doesn't make doing laundry any easier, though, or at least that's what she's been told. The trailer just has a washing machine under the kitchen counter, and that thing is both tiny and ancient. Sometimes she just bites the bullet and hauls all her shit to the laundromat downtown, since then she can do it all at once.
And then she also doesn't have to hang her underwear and bras on a line out back. ]
[He shakes his head] No, god no, it's a cleaning service that does it, they do the altar cloths and stuff too but that's less often, those have to be done a specific way, kind of like showing the proper respect to the flag? So they usually throw in robe cleaning at a discount.
[As a point of fact they do have both a washer and a dryer, and more than that: Chris actually knows how to use them, and not in a 'just dump everything in and wash it on hot' way.]
[ Eddie's eyes are bright and interested as Chris explains the minutiae of altar cloth cleaning, an aspect of church life she had never considered. It makes sense, she supposes, that there's a ritual for that, too, since church seems to be made up entirely of rituals. ]
Do they, like, say a prayer over the washing machine before they put everything in? [ She sounds honestly curious, not like she's making fun of the idea. Well. She does sound a little amused, she can't hide that, but it's not coming from a place of malice. ] They don't have to do it all by hand, do they?
You know, I don't actually know? [His brow furrows, it seems like the kind of thing he should know, but it's just never come up. He knows what company does it and that's all he's needed to know] I think it's more like dry cleaning, though, at least for the linens, the choir robes are the finest polyester and can hit the spin cycle no problem.
[ She hums knowingly, nodding slowly and letting her eyes narrow theatrically. ] Right, right. It's because they're tacky. I remember now.
I have some bad news for you, sunshine. I love that shit. The tackier, the better. You keep hanging out with me, you're gonna be subjected to a lot of it.
[He shakes his head] Hey now, I just said they'd be tacky if they had our names embroidered on them. It's just... [He shrugs] It was never really my idea? Like, I probably thought it was, back in the beginning, but it really wasn't, and fat chance trying to get out of it now without getting disowned, or worse.
[ Despite how much Eddie loves to ham shit up, she lets her smile mellow a little, her expression smoothing out into something a little bit more serious so Chris knows she isn't laughing at him. ] Going to church, or being in the choir?
[Generally he knows when she's laughing about the situation or at him not knowing something, but he appreciates the shift in tone even if he doesn't fully realize it.] Both, I guess?
[He shakes his head] Been going to church since I was an infant, though so not like I really had a chance on that one, choir was different.
Well. [ Eddie can't really say anything about church, since she doesn't attend one and only sporadically did when she was much, much younger, but she gets how some parents steamroll their kids. And how little said kids can do about it, sometimes.
Personally, she thinks Chris should tell his mom to back off already, but that's really none of her business. ]
You'll be going to college soon. You won't have to sing ever again if you don't want to.
That's the plan. [He nods, and Eddie's not wrong in that thought, he just doesn't want to get disowned is all.] And I don't mind singing, I just don't know if I'm actually good at it outside of choir, since I'm not some rising star there, either.
[ Shifting, she pushes herself up on one hand so she can look into his face a little better, her eyes narrowing for a moment before she lets herself grin again and bounces off the bed. ]
Gimme a band. [ She drops to her knees in front of a banker's box, fishing through its contents. ] C'mon, sunshine, name a band. Any band.
[He laughs, shaking his head] Dee, I literally just said I know the Beatles, mom's gospel albums and Bob Dylan because mom thought he was going to corrupt us all. I mean, I think Prince is a name I've heard? Wouldn't be able to tell you any songs though.
[ At first, it seems like maybe she isn't even listening, nearly elbows-deep in the box of cassettes in front of her, but then she straightens like she's been hit by lightning. ]
Shut up, oh my god, I just found something. [ Twisting to look at him over her shoulder, she clutches a cassette to her chest, the only detail visible of the front being something yellow and something black peeking between her fingers. ] I can't believe I forgot about this, oh my god.
[ Scrambling to her feet somewhat inelegantly, she careens over to her boombox, ejecting the cassette already in it and instead slamming in the one in her hands. ] You're gonna love this, holy shit.
[ She hits play with a flourish, all but wiggling as the music starts with what sounds like either a low gong or some kind of church-y chord on an organ, atmospheric strings and echoing laughter lending the entire thing a vaguely eerie air. That part doesn't last long, maybe a minute, and then there's a beat of silence and guitars start to play. Loudly. ]
Okay, okay, okay. [ Crawling back over to him, she pushes and shoves at his knees until he moves up her bed a little so she can get back up on it beside him, and by the time the singer belts out Don't speak of the Devil, He's no friend of mine, she's back to grinning at him from a little too close. ] This is right up your alley, baby. Jesus music!
[ As if to underscore her point, the chorus comes screaming in, the whole band singing To Hell with the Devil, in unison while the drums pound beneath them. ]
[He does, in fact, shut up, and not just because she asked, but because she's clearly excited about something and he's curious to find out where this is going.
The way that barely-contained excitement causes her to ping-pong around the room is just another endearing facet of knowing her and his smile has probably gone just a little dopey over it by the time she wedges herself back in beside him.] Okay?
[He just blinks in blank disbelief for a moment, but there's an actual melody he can follow, and even though they're belting, they aren't just screaming so he can actually understand the lyrics, and that blank disbelief transforms into delighted disbelief with a bright laugh] Wait, is this for real?
The fact that Chris laughs in delight like that has her laughing too, leaning in close to jostle him with her elbow even as she cracks open the cassette case to fish out the J-card so she can unfold it and show him the lyrics. ]
Hell yeah it's for real! Check it out.
[ Truth be told, Eddie doesn't really like Stryper. She finds their sound a little pedestrian, a little mainstream, and the lyrics leave a lot to be desired. But, if she had to pick a band to ease a good-natured church boy into her scene, she'd certainly have a hard time finding a better option. She's pretty sure his mom would still have a coronary if she caught Chris listening to this, no matter what the lyrics said, but his mom doesn't have to know.
When the guitar solo comes in, she can't help pantomiming it, shaking her head to make her wild curls fly everywhere. ]
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[ To Eddie, the idea of that kind of conformity chafes for more than one reason, but she supposes it makes sense. Presumably church follows the same script every week, in pretty much every church — yes, she's aware enough to realize that Catholics and Baptists probably have pretty different services in terms of tone, if not content — so it makes sense that their uniform is standardized too.
Maybe she can get Chris to sew a patch on his robe or something. ]
An angel choir! [ She crows with laughter, nudging her knees hard into his to make him rock a little, her eyes sparkling with glee. ] You know, I can see it. [ Tapping her chin with her free hand again, she squints at him and then waves her hand around in the air like she's drawing a circle over his head. ] Yep. Makes perfect sense.
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[An exaggerated shrug follows] And I haven't really had a chance to, you know, shop around and check out other congregations' choir robes, but I don't think they'd be that different, some churches get the name of the church embroidered on them, but apparently that's vanity, so we don't do that. [He shakes his head] Honestly though between you and me, I think it's just because we can't afford to have it done.
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[ Belatedly, she realized she just asked him to do a couple's costume with her for Halloween, an absolutely absurd notion, but it's too late to take back now. Hopefully he'll just think she's joking and dismiss the idea without actually considering it. ]
Oh, that's too bad. It would be funnier if you got your own name embroidered on them, though. Like name tags.
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[He settles back on his hands again] Honestly it's because there's only like three sizes, so we probably end up wearing the same one as someone else, um, probably a lot more than I actually want to think about.
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Oh man. How often do you think they get washed?
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His nose wrinkles at the question, but it's amusement and not disgust] Weekly, that's part of the administration's duty roster. One of the new admin assistants 'forgot' one week and was gone before the following week.
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[ Eddie spent the first ten years of her life down in North Carolina. Her accent has faded pretty significantly since she moved to the Midwest, but every now and then, a little Southern drawl will slip out, usually when she's drunk or high or really relaxed.
Or if she and Wayne are fighting. Then they just egg each other on. ]
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[ The Cunninghams are rich enough that she's certain they have both a washing machine and a dryer, and pretty decent quality ones, too. That doesn't make doing laundry any easier, though, or at least that's what she's been told. The trailer just has a washing machine under the kitchen counter, and that thing is both tiny and ancient. Sometimes she just bites the bullet and hauls all her shit to the laundromat downtown, since then she can do it all at once.
And then she also doesn't have to hang her underwear and bras on a line out back. ]
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[As a point of fact they do have both a washer and a dryer, and more than that: Chris actually knows how to use them, and not in a 'just dump everything in and wash it on hot' way.]
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Do they, like, say a prayer over the washing machine before they put everything in? [ She sounds honestly curious, not like she's making fun of the idea. Well. She does sound a little amused, she can't hide that, but it's not coming from a place of malice. ] They don't have to do it all by hand, do they?
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Grinning at him, she reaches out to tweak the front of his shirt. Cotton. ] You saying you're too good to wear some good ol' plastic robes, Chrissy?
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[It's more that he never really had the chance -or the choice- not to, and he's only learned in high school that that's kind of weird.]
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I have some bad news for you, sunshine. I love that shit. The tackier, the better. You keep hanging out with me, you're gonna be subjected to a lot of it.
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[He shakes his head] Been going to church since I was an infant, though so not like I really had a chance on that one, choir was different.
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Personally, she thinks Chris should tell his mom to back off already, but that's really none of her business. ]
You'll be going to college soon. You won't have to sing ever again if you don't want to.
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Gimme a band. [ She drops to her knees in front of a banker's box, fishing through its contents. ] C'mon, sunshine, name a band. Any band.
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Shut up, oh my god, I just found something. [ Twisting to look at him over her shoulder, she clutches a cassette to her chest, the only detail visible of the front being something yellow and something black peeking between her fingers. ] I can't believe I forgot about this, oh my god.
[ Scrambling to her feet somewhat inelegantly, she careens over to her boombox, ejecting the cassette already in it and instead slamming in the one in her hands. ] You're gonna love this, holy shit.
[ She hits play with a flourish, all but wiggling as the music starts with what sounds like either a low gong or some kind of church-y chord on an organ, atmospheric strings and echoing laughter lending the entire thing a vaguely eerie air. That part doesn't last long, maybe a minute, and then there's a beat of silence and guitars start to play. Loudly. ]
Okay, okay, okay. [ Crawling back over to him, she pushes and shoves at his knees until he moves up her bed a little so she can get back up on it beside him, and by the time the singer belts out Don't speak of the Devil, He's no friend of mine, she's back to grinning at him from a little too close. ] This is right up your alley, baby. Jesus music!
[ As if to underscore her point, the chorus comes screaming in, the whole band singing To Hell with the Devil, in unison while the drums pound beneath them. ]
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The way that barely-contained excitement causes her to ping-pong around the room is just another endearing facet of knowing her and his smile has probably gone just a little dopey over it by the time she wedges herself back in beside him.] Okay?
[He just blinks in blank disbelief for a moment, but there's an actual melody he can follow, and even though they're belting, they aren't just screaming so he can actually understand the lyrics, and that blank disbelief transforms into delighted disbelief with a bright laugh] Wait, is this for real?
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The fact that Chris laughs in delight like that has her laughing too, leaning in close to jostle him with her elbow even as she cracks open the cassette case to fish out the J-card so she can unfold it and show him the lyrics. ]
Hell yeah it's for real! Check it out.
[ Truth be told, Eddie doesn't really like Stryper. She finds their sound a little pedestrian, a little mainstream, and the lyrics leave a lot to be desired. But, if she had to pick a band to ease a good-natured church boy into her scene, she'd certainly have a hard time finding a better option. She's pretty sure his mom would still have a coronary if she caught Chris listening to this, no matter what the lyrics said, but his mom doesn't have to know.
When the guitar solo comes in, she can't help pantomiming it, shaking her head to make her wild curls fly everywhere. ]
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