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4 months ago

Comfortable Madness First PDF 4-13-18

Missionaries Two boys

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.

Silence. We looked at Tad. He shrugged. “Just wait,” he said. “It’s hilarious.” “Okay,” Miss Tris called from the kitchen. “Let them in.” “What? No!” Tayla had no love for Christians of any stripe and Mormons prickled especially hard for some reason. “Baptizing the dead!” she always said, like it was the most horrible thing ever. “And forever families,” I reminded her. She clenched her teeth and grunted. “Exactly,” she’d growl. Tayla’s family was not a family anyone would want to be stuck with forever. Back in the living room, Tad went to the door. I blocked him. “Trust me,” he said. Looking back and forth from Tad to Tayla and across the room to the kitchen. I looked to Tayla again. She shrugged. I sucked in a deep breath, as if the missionaries were there to cut out my heart. They knocked again. “Okay,” I said and opened the door. Bits of the world shot at me like jagged glass. I winced. The Mormons pretended not to see. “Inda Butterfly?” the tall one asked. His face was too smooth. All the parts fit together too well. He looked like a news guy. I didn’t like him. “Ma’am?” he asked. I nodded. “We’re looking for Inda Butterfly,” he said. Tad and Tayla came to the door. The missionaries stepped back. “Can I help you?” Tad asked.