August 16, 2005
A new vignette from the story of Susan and the PoD.
They alternate which church to go to on Sunday. On even weeks they go to her church, and sit in long rows on the hard benches and listen to a sermon. Today is an odd Sunday, so they are going to his church. He is dressed in shades of black, as always. She is wearing her white church dress, with the big hat his mother made for her. She dabs a drop of anise behind each ear.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, you?"
He picks up the bag with the tambourines and the trumpet.
Afterwards, she always wants a cigarette. She is flushed, and the jumpy rhythms of the choir are still twitching in her legs and shoulders. He is calm again, solid, the movement he had embodied just a few minutes earlier gone.
He looks down at her. "Are we staying for the supper?"
"Do you want to?"
"No, I think I want to lie down."
"You like the supper at my church."
"I don't get as tired, no, I get a different kind of tired at your church. I eat then to make my brain stop."
She smiles.