END OF THE DAY
I can’t tell you anything that happens from the time I
leave the church until the time I arrive home. My
thoughts flit like water bouncing off a hot skillet. My
last fifteen minutes since I left the church would make
an ADD person look like a model of focus. I come back to
earth when my Volkswagen suddenly tips up as I run over
the curve turning into my driveway. Way to go, Alan, you
dumb shit. Lucky for you that none of your neighbors were
out for an evening stroll.
I’m not that tall, about 5 foot 5 inches, but I manage to
bang my head on the roof of the car as I exit. My fury
increases when I stumble going up my front steps. You’d
think I’m drunk but I rarely drink anything but a glass
of wine and haven’t had that today. I take out my key
ring, and, naturally, my first choice is the wrong key.
If I had any hair left on top of my head, I’d pull it
out. To top it off, the door isn’t even locked, so I
restrain myself from hitting it with my fist and walk
into my house.
I see Ariel place a marker in the book she is reading as
I enter the den. She doesn’t even have a chance to say
hello before acid begins to flow from my mouth. “Those
fucking idiots on the worship committee spent two hours
arguing about whether the periods of silence I’ve
introduced in the worship service make people too
uncomfortable.”
A Grief Observed
“A real stinker of a day, huh?” Ariel says but then is
silent waiting for me to continue.
“Oh, no,” I say as I fling my briefcase across the room,
nearly missing a flower vase. “It was a perfect day if
you enjoy being a waiter who considers it an honor to
feed the egos of a self-indulgent bunch of prima donnas
who couldn’t distinguish an ethical value from a Krispy
Kreme donut. Ariel raises one eyebrow but stays silent.
In one corner of my fevered brain, I recognize how lucky
I am that this wonderful woman agreed to marry me. I know
many other guys made their play for this 5’5′ ‘slim,
auburn haired, vivacious woman who is standing before me.
For reasons I don’t understand, she agreed marry this
currently bald, pudgy clergy whose salary can barely keep
us above the poverty level.
That part of my brain, however, is in recess while the
reptilian part has chosen fight over flight even if the
enemy is not present. “Do you know what that God-damned-son-
of-a-bitch Reginald Fiedler said at the budget
meeting this afternoon? That prick had the fucking nerve
to suggest that the church couldn’t afford to give the
pastor a raise since the membership had not increased
enough to even pay for critical building repairs.”
Ariel stands there looking at me. I rarely swear and
never include God or Jesus in such a vain way. A small
echo of conscience rises to the surface. “I’m sorry,
Ariel. I don’t mean to offend you.”
OFFENCE
“I’m not offended. Before I met you, I used to date guys
who couldn’t say a dozen words without naming God, Jesus,
and various bodily functions. It’s just that this is so
unlike you.”
“Well maybe I ought to change. Christ Almighty, I’m sick
and tired of exhausting myself trying to please these
self-centered pissants who don’t give a shit what God
wants or what it means to be a faithful church. If I died
tomorrow, who in the hell would care.”
We have been standing about six feet apart, though I’ve
been shouting as if we were in separate rooms. Ariel
tilts her head slightly, closes the gap between us, and
as she enfolds me in her arms she says the two sweetest
words in the universe.
“I care.”
