Comfortable Madness First PDF 4-13-18

Missionaries
Two boys came around the corner. They wore black suits
and carried black bibles. I watched them from the window. They
walked shoulder to shoulder, upright and proper. They were pretty
enough to be a couple, but they probably weren’t.
Bone-colored light hung from them in long streamers.
Voices told me to hide. They told me these boys were thieves
coming to steal my soul. They were celestial salesmen selling false
hope. I watched them like a mouse watching an owl. But then it
came to me.
“Shit,” I said.
Tayla looked up from the floor.
“What?”
“Mormons.”
Tad opened his eyes, his head in Miss Tris’ lap.
“Jesus,” he said.
“Get away from the window,” Tayla snapped.
I couldn’t though. If the Mormons were coming here, I
wanted to see them.
“Butter,” Tayla cried.
It was too late. The boys stopped in front of our place and
looked around. They started across the yard.
“Here they come,” I said, strangely indifferent.
Tayla got up.
“Fuck,” she said.
The missionaries knocked. Something electric flashed
through me. I hated it when people knocked on our door. Not even
knowing it was going to happen helped.
“Hush,” Tayla said.
Miss Tris shot off the couch and into the kitchen.
“Wait,” she called.
“What’re you doing?” Tayla asked.