Scrutinizing information provided by my brother, Alec, was a lesson I learned at a very early age. The day I was baptized, was the day that I started questioning everything told to me. Before my baptism I was just a regular, innocent girl; once I came out of the church all hell broke loose and I realized that people, Alec, aren’t always going to tell me the truth and might even mislead for their own entertainment.
There is more to the story than just a good laugh at the innocence of a child. I'm leading up to the events that all started when I was about six. I was at about the age where Barney was my idol and picking my nose was my favorite pastime. Let's just say that I wasn't sure what being baptized meant, nor was I interested in it. I knew as much about being baptized as a hamster knows about how to talk. At the time all I understood was that my grandparents were happy and I was being carried to their church.

The big, old, brown building had a cold and scary feeling to it at the time. It was intimidating and the only reason I was going into the building was because I was being carried. I never liked walking when I was little; if my dad was carrying me, I was going. At the entrance of the building there were these monsters with faces that looked like they were going to snatch me out of my dad's arms, I buried my head into his shoulder, looking down into my brother's face. He had a devilish look on his face as if he were thinking up a devious scheme. But, for all I knew he was constipated.

We went inside the church, full of wood and glass tinted windows. Suddenly Alec's face changed from constipation to a smirk. That was when he looked up at me and said, "Hey, Kate, you know that's there's going to be a dead person's blood on your face, right? My mouth dropped and I uttered, "No."

My dad was still holding me, but I don't know how. I was squirming like a worm fresh out of the dirt and crying like a coyote does to the moon. Once he got a better handle on my, he put me down and gave me THE STARE. I knew that was the signal for me to shut up and at least listen. He told me, “Don’t worry, it’s going to be fine. They are only going to say something to you. And after, if you want we can go get you an ice cream.”

Obviously, I accepted. Not knowing what to believe, ice cream conquers all. Walking down the aisle, in my dad's caring arms, I felt more comfortable and content. I was ready to be baptized; or whatever that meant, as long as I got my ice cream afterwards.

The walk seemed endless, each step the man with the bowl got closer and closer, as if we were stalking him. The chairs were empty and cold, filled with books and gum. Now, I could see the man's smile it was like the smile from the cat in Alice in Wonderland. I could see the bowl in his hands; it was detailed with color and looked as if it were made out of tainted glass. The music was playing, and it seemed more like a funeral than a baptism. The final steps were coming and I still couldn't see what was in the bowl. While I was still looking, I didn't realize that I was being passed from my dad's arms to another man's who I didn't even know. His arms were weak and hairy, that's when my crying charade started. It didn't start because if the blood, it started because I wasn't in my dad's arms.

Once the man started talking, I started to calm down and I understood that they were doing this for a reason; and if I wanted my ice cream, I would have to suck it up. I stopped crying, the ceremony went on and I survived the long, endless talking that I couldn't understand, it felt like it was never going to end.

The bowl came out and I thought I saw blood in it. Now that I think about it, the bottom of the bowl must have had red glass or paint in it. The strange man's hand reached inside the bowl and came out. He was so fast that I didn't even see if his hand was clear or if it was drenched in blood . His hand kept getting higher, so that is when I thought. Maybe he doesn't want me to see his hand because it has blood on it and he doesn't want to scare me? That is when I started crying for the second time.

I had convinced myself. IT IS BLOOD... Don't let the man put his hand on my face. Don't let the man, he is a stranger; stranger danger, stranger danger!

His clammy wet hand touched my little forehead and I thought it was over. I was going to get a disease from the blood and I was going to die. There wasn’t much more for me to do except cry, hug my parents, and eat my ice cream; I had accepted defeat.

After the ceremony, I was passing my hand back and forth, trying to get the blood off my face. I kept checking my hand to see if it was bloody, but there was no red. I searched for my brother, and there he was, laughing and pointing at me. At that moment I knew, Alec had lied for his own enjoyment. I would never trust him completely again until he helped me pass high school Physics.