What Was Wrong With Her - Kaye Doiron

I sat next to Satan in church on Sunday. Even more ironic than that is that I was in church.

She showed up, Satan, at my door Sunday morning and said, “ I’m taking you for a surpise!”

“ I’m in my jammies.” I replied. “ I want to stay at home.”

“ Come on” she insisted. “ throw some jeans and a sweater over your pajamas and let’s go, we’re going to be late.”

“ Where are we going?” I asked.

“ Just hurry up!!!” she shouted.

Her excitement was persuasive and I did just that, I threw a pair of jeans on, my pj’s acting like insulated underwear in case we were going to be outside and a brown sweater over my new jammy top with red hearts on it. I didn’t put a bra on or brush my hair or my teeth.

As we pulled up panic started to rise in my chest. “ YOU’RE TAKING ME TO FUCKING CHURCH???!!! I am not going to church, take me back home.”

“ Come on, there’s lots of singing, you’re going to love it!!” She persuaded, already two feet ahead of me.

“ FUCK!” I said loudly not caring if anyone around me could hear it. I noticed no one was around me.

“ Are we late?”

“ Yes, hurry up!”

We walked into a big assembly hall, less like a church than the gymnasium of my kids’ school. Everyone was already seated and a seven piece band was on the “ altar?” playing a fairly decent song. The words were on a giant fifty foot by fifty foot screen above the band and everyone was singing. As we walked into our aisle everyone turned and smiled a big holy roller welcome smile that gave me the heebie jeebies and made me want to bolt for the door. “ I hate you” I whispered as Deb grabbed my hand.

“ Sing!” she whispered back.

There were at least thirty people with their hands in the air waiting for the God particles to enter through their fingers and make everything in their lives hunky dory.

The pastor walked up and took the podium as the band wrapped up. He was wearing a Saints jersey and this mildly amused me. He was a fairly decent speaker, though his message was not meant for me. His theme was false idols. False idols are not my thing, I see God in everything and everyone around me. He was passionate, oh he believed and I guess I admired him for that.

Satan cried through the entire lecture but I don’t think any of it sunk in. In her heart, I believe she really thinks she is all that. She misses the entire “ be a good person, do unto others” boat. She is on the Carnival stuff your face, let em eat cake boat. But she’s the kind that will never take a good long hard look in the mirror. Why the tears I wondered.

I sat with all the zealots listening to their false idol like he really had the right to tell them what the bible was trying to teach them.

‘“Are we really so stupid? Can the two hundred people sitting around me really be so daft? So naiive? So soulless?” I wondered.

I felt as filled up spiritually after the service as a diaper that sags between a toddlers knees. Satan felt great, on a manic high. She’d done her hour of penance for the seven days of sinning and treating everyone around her like shit. She felt atoned, elated, gleeful. I felt all sucked dry.