"Kids! Scriptures!" Madre yells. I try to get one more minute out of my show, but she calls again. "We're waiting on you, Sister Johnson!"
8:56 p.m. on a school night, and somewhat close to bedtime. The murderer on CSI finally breaks down and starts giving his monologue on why he shot his mother. The final nail in his coffin and the twist is...With a groan, I turn off the TV and drag myself upstairs to the living room where my family, plus a spare brother, sits in a circle with their scriptures open on their laps. Four teenage boys and mi Madre have crammed themselves into the biggest couch. No doubt my brothers fought over who would sit next to Madre. I sit down in my usual spot, the left side of the smaller couch next to my little sister Melissa. I left my triple combination on the armrest the night before, so I open it up to Alma 49.
Papa Johnson, cross-legged on the floor by the stereo speaker, flips through the pages for the chapter. "30 verses."
I quickly do the math in my head. "Four each, except two people get five."
"Looks like you're the Power Couch."
"Power Couch!" Melissa and I cheer. Then we high-five each other as hard as we can. My hand tingles for a few seconds afterwards as Papa Johnson starts reading about another war fought by Captain Moroni.