There Must Be Something More

117 | It's Calum

"But why would Calum do that?" Amanda asked one day. She rode shotgun in my car as we stared at the glow of the lights from the 7-11 store in front of us. We loitered at the parking space for a bit, the car's engine still running.

We just finished Wednesday Worship Night and decided to just hang out after to eat dinner and have a few sodas.

"Do what?" I asked, turning to Amanda.

"Why would he lie about being saved?" She said, shaking her head. Her eyes were wistful. She looked as if she was about to cry.

She turned to me. "That's mean."

"I don't know." Was all I could say as I put an arm on her shoulder.

She sighed heavily and just stared out the window beside her. "I guess I can't act all holy here. Just a few weeks ago, I was as hostile as him about you guys and God."

"But at least now you saw the Light." I said.

She nodded, her dark eyes stormy. "But I still wish he hasn't fallen that far."

"No one's fallen too far from the grace of God." I disagreed. "The only reason a person doesn't get saved is that even though the Lord is so near to him, urging him to accept His gift of forgiveness and eternal life, he still hangs on to his pride of independence and false freedom. That's not the way to go."

"Oh, Calum." She said, covering her face with her hands.

"Hey, maybe he'll get through one day." I said, rubbing her back empathetically. Amanda looked up and nodded, sniffling back tears.

Then Amanda said the impossible. "I wanna go talk to him."

I stared at her as if she had three ears. "What?"

"I wanna go talk to Calum. Right now."

"What do you mean?" I blinked way too many times. 

"Let's go to his house."

"Amanda, whoa, whoa, whoa, we have to just chill for a moment right here. It has been months since I have even gone to Calum's house. And how do you even know he's home right now?"

"I'll call him." Amanda took out her phone from her sling bag. "See? I have his number right here."

"How do you even know he wants to talk to us?" I cried.

"He'll want to talk to us." Amanda looked me hard in the eye. "This is Calum Freeman we're talking about, Charlie. Our best friend. Our brother. Our family. When we felt rejected by our own biological families, he was there. He kept our group together when we disagreed with each other. He was there when no one else was."

She squeezed my shoulders. "Charlie, it's Calum."

I stared at her, unsure of what to say next, what to do next.

"Please." She said through gritted teeth.

I gulped and pulled away from her grasp. "Okay. We'll check if he's home." I pulled the gear knob and started backing away from the parking lot. "Call him and ask if he's home."

"Actually, it has been a while since I last talked with him, too." Amanda bit her lip and guiltily looked at me. "I don't have his number anymore since the last time we talked several weeks ago. We fought and never made up. I just said I had his number earlier to convince you to come talk to him."

"You fought? Why?" I asked.

"It was during the end of your third lecture. I was there. Calum wasn't. He had stayed in the field, playing pretend baseball with some middle-schooler."

She told me a detailed story of what happened:

Amanda sneakily went inside the baseball team lockers and saw Calum wiping his wet hair with a towel. He had just changed into fresh clothes. He slammed his locker door shut and grinned when he saw Amanda.

"Hey." Amanda said. She scowled at the stench of sweat and who-knows-what inside the locker room.

"What's up?" He asked.

"I need to talk to you."

"What about?"

Amanda took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "About Charlie."

Calum scoffed. "What about Charlie? You know, even though I stopped talking to him, I still hear his name everywhere I go in this school. That kid just doesn't stop being annoying, does he?"

"Calum, what if Charlie is right?"

He glared at her. "What do you mean Charlie is right?"

"What if... what if all we're doing now won't gonna matter someday after we die? What if... what if there really is something more to this life we're living right now?"

Calum stared at her, looking convinced. His eyes were woeful. Amanda started to think that maybe she had gotten through to him by that question--

"Oh, no. You sound like that loser Charlie." He said, snickering. "Oh, no, Amanda."

"That 'loser' is our best friend!" Amanda snapped.

"I don't have a religious wacko for a best friend. And if you keep being like that, you're gonna be like him too. Just somebody that I used to know."

Amanda Jeung stared at him, the pain cutting her deep inside. Calum gave her one last dirty look and scoffed, leaving her alone in the locker room.

"After that, he wouldn't talk to me." Amanda said when she finished her story. "So imagine my shock when you told me what he did to you and Meredith and Trey."

"So that's why I haven't seen you two together recently." I said in realization.

She nodded, "I thought he didn't want anything to do with God. But why would he go out of his way as to even pretend that he's a Christian? It contradicts everything he said to me in that locker room."

"I know." I said. "Which is why we have to visit him at his house. Let's just pray he's there. Or pray he's not. Whichever the Lord's will is."

But when we got to the Freeman residence, he was there. He sat in the bungalow a few feet from their two-story white house with a sloping black roof. His back was to us. His brown hair washed with the yellow overhead light that flooded inside the bungalow.

With a grin, Amanda stepped out of my pickup. I parked a safe space between the bungalow and Calum's house. 

Amanda and I carefully walked up to the bungalow. Amanda stepped up on the ledge that leveled her to the height of the floor inside the bungalow and covered Calum's eyes from behind.

"Hey!" Calum yelped, obviously surprised. 

Amanda and I laughed and said, "Surprise!"

And then our smiles faded. Calum looked the worst. His brown hair a bird's nest. His brown eyes bloodshot. Not to mention the dark circles so dark I could've mistaken them as smeared coals under his eyes. Several bottles of beer lined up under his feet, and his T-shirt looked ratted and worn out.

"Calum." Amanda drew a shaky breath. She looked horrified.

"What are you two doing here? Is this a dream? A nightmare?" He asked. His voice was rough and gravelly.

Without a word, I pulled him in a tight hug, holding back tears. 

And I think I heard him cry that night. Or maybe it was Amanda.