Ding dong!
The doorbell chimed cheerfully just before noon. Freddy waited until he had scored another ten thousand points before he paused his game and answered. Outside was a man about twice his age wearing an orange blazer, clutching a small black book to his chest.
“Good morning, young man!” The stranger beamed. “Is your mother or father home right now?”
Freddy rolled his eyes. The religious freaks always had a way of dropping in at just the right time to ruin your day, say, when you had almost beat the high score on Bloody Rampage 3.
“Mom!” Freddy closed the door on the missionary and shouted, rather than go looking for his mother. “There’s a man at the door in a tacky blazer with a death wish!”
By the time Sandra came in from the garden out back, Freddy had already trotted back to his room and the sounds of electric carnage had begun again.
“Hello?” She said as she opened the door for the man who had been patiently waiting outside.
“Good morning, ma’am,” he said, smiling brightly. “I represent the Church of the Underworld and I was wondering if I might have a little of your time this morning?”
Sandra chewed her lower lip for a moment. She wasn’t an atheist, but she wasn’t devout either. And the garden really needed weeding… but she hated to be rude. “Just for a moment.”
She served iced tea while he sat down on one end of the couch, facing Sandra in her recliner. “Ma’am, have you heard of the Church of the Underworld?” He smiled as she nodded. “Well, I’d like to tell you a little more about it, and make an offer to you.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready to convert…” Sandra said, wringing her hands.
“Well, the question is, ma’am, are you ready to be saved? This world is a place of beauty and sorrow both. For every good thing that life provides, there is a cost and in the end we all owe.” He reached into a pocket and withdrew a pamphlet and slid it across Sandra’s coffee table. The cover was black and on the front was a cartoon caricature of a man shrugging. Above his head in warm red letters it said “Have you considered dying today?”
“All I want you to do is ask yourself ‘is death right for me?’ We all die anyways, but for most of us it’s after a long life of hard work and little reward. But what waits for us? The afterlife is a wonderful place with all of the beauty and none of the sorrow of this sad plane, especially for those of us who believe, who have a place there waiting for them.”
“Well,” Sandra hesitated. “I’m not very religious…”
“I understand, Ma’am. Changing faiths isn’t a decision to be taken lightly. And we would never want you to make a snap decision. Why don’t you talk to my partner, who can tell you a little more about the Underworld and what waits for you there.”
The missionary turned to his left and Sandra followed his eyes. At first she saw nothing, but as she strained to see what he saw, Sandra just thought she could see an intense coldness in the shape of a person. Whispers rose in the air, coiling around her like moths circling a streetlight.
She shivered and let out a small whine. Her eyes teared up and single teardrop welled up and ran down her cheek. “It’s beautiful…” she whispered.
“I know,” the religious salesman said. “I’ve seen it too, but I’ve decided to wait to make my journey there so that I can share my faith with those who suffer and don’t even know it.”
Sandra nodded in mute agreement.
“Why don’t you come to church this Sunday. You can hear Father Hulligan speak, and talk to the shades of those who’ve already reached paradise.”
“I…I think I’m ready to change faith…” Sandra said.
Freddy came out of his room, stretching. He was very close to beating the high score, but he was going to need another soda to make it. “Mom!? When’s lunch?”
He stopped in the living room. The man in the tacky orange blazer was kneeling on the floor next to his mom’s recliner. On the other side of the chair was a faint shadow. Both and man and shadow were praying and in between them, his mother slumped in her chair with the handle of an ornate dagger sticking out of her heart.
“Mom?”
The man got to his feet. “Your mom’s decided to change religion, son.” He tilted his head quizzically and smiled. “She’s much happier now. Tell me, son. Do you have a death wish?”
Monday, August 18, 2008
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1 comment:
You have a knack for presenting disturbing things in familiar packages, which makes this fun and unsettling to read. I'd never open my door if I thought the Jehovah's Witnesses were going to kill me!
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