*
Five paydays later I had enough money to rent my own apartment – looked more like a motel room when one walked in – but there was a kitchen and bathroom besides the little living room and bedroom combination– and luckily for me it was only a block from the library, across from the park, on the far side of the church. All were walking distance.
I paid my deposit and first and last month’s rent to the middle-aged elderly couple that owned the apartments, but I hadn’t moved in yet. They were painting the interior and putting in a new carpet. It would be a couple of days before I could move in. I didn’t have to worry about furniture either. It was fully furnished. I hadn’t told Greg yet. I sensed there would be an argument, so I was putting off telling him until the last minute.
There was no denying that Greg had been treating me well. For that, I was grateful, but it was more than apparent that he hoped I would stay, even though I was not sleeping with him, nor trying in any way to encourage him. I did fix his meals in return for his letting me stay there. But I think he took it as more, even though I told him otherwise.
It was Wednesday night and I decided to slip into the back of the church, as I was bored – service was three-quarters over – when a young woman just a few years older than I, went forward. I recognized her as Elsie Brown. She used to be a regular. I hadn’t seen her in a while, but her husband came all the time. Right away she began babbling about how she’d sinned by not coming to church regularly with her husband and now she was paying for her sins. Her husband had been laid off work and she had just learned she had breast cancer.
Dad, of course, jumped right on it, laying his hands on her head and praying loudly; begging Jesus to forgive this woman of her iniquities so that her cancer would be healed.
Elsie fell right into it – tears gushing forth and crying out for God to forgive her.
Greg happened to look up and see me in the back of the church. He smiled; apparently thinking my being there was a good sign.
It wasn’t. The whole charade, the entire scene, made me absolutely sick to my stomach.
I wanted to puke!
I couldn’t handle it anymore. I left, walking as fast as I could. I had wanted to get an ice cream after church. So, I headed straight for Baskin Robbins. Maybe I should have taken my car, but I felt like walking. So I did.
I was a little surprised to see Nancy there, but what really blew my mind was she was sitting at one of the tables with the Satanist that had come in the library.
Immediately, she looked up and recognized me. “Brenda! Come on over. I want you to meet my new boyfriend.”
The words, “You’re what?” kind of caught in my throat as I made my way over to their table by the far right wall.
“Ah! The librarian,” he said, smiling kind of strangely and mysteriously at the same time.
Nancy turned to him. “You’ve met then?”
“At the library,” I replied, now standing beside her, staring at him staring back at me.
“Paul,” he said, offering over his hand. “Name’s Paul.”
I was sure I hadn’t forgotten his name. “I thought your name was Able?”
“Good memory,” he replied, looking pleased. “Paul’s my middle name. Why my mother named me Able is beyond me. I always hated that name… Able Paul,” he sniggered.
“Maybe she thought that naming you that way would somehow help you to achieve whatever you wanted in life?”
He grinned. “Maybe.
“However, I believe that simply Paul definitely fits you better.”
Nancy told me to take a seat.
Paul pulled out a chair for me.
“Thanks.”
Looking at me, Nancy said, “I’ve wanted to tell you how awful I feel about what my aunt did to you.”
“Don’t you mean to us? Seems to me that you were a victim too.”
Nancy smiled at that. “Told you she was cool, Paul.”
He puckered his lips slightly as though pondering and then shook his head in the affirmative. “Personally, I think Nancy’s been way too nice about it.”
“She’s my aunt, Paul.”
“Still. She’s a total bitch.”
“I won’t argue with that.”
I wanted to ask, but I wasn’t certain how to go about it. I couldn’t help wondering why a Wiccan would be hanging out with a Satanist. I started to speak but didn’t.
Nancy picked up on my confusion right away. “I’m not a Wiccan anymore, Brenda.”
“Oh?”
Paul interjected, “Nancy’s known me for a while. Used to be afraid of me, weren’t you?” he said, reaching over and squeezing her hand. “She used to have Mike wait on me when I came in. But now she knows the truth – That I wouldn’t hurt her for anything.” He scanned around as though to see if anyone was listening to our conversation, and then said, “Contrary to popular belief… we Satanists – spiritual Satanists, anyway – don’t go around hurting people. We mind our own business, study and meditate and try to get the truth out to folks.”
“The truth?”
He bobbed his head yes. “That the world has been deluded for centuries. That the Garden of Eden got so fucked up. Turned around. You see, Father Satan is the good God.”
“That’s right,” Nancy agreed. “Paul’s been teaching me… Showing me books, research. I didn’t believe him at first, but now my eyes have been opened,” she said with a proud smile and he winked at her.
I didn’t understand until later exactly what she meant by that phrase.
He squeezed her hand again and let it go, leaning back in his chair and studying me. “So…What do you think, Brenda?”
“Like you said. Things got fucked up.” I think that’s the first time I ever said that word. Felt kind of weird, but I also had a sense of freedom as it left my lips.
Nancy laughed. “Good for you.”
“You still with that preacher husband?” Paul asked.
“Just temporarily. I have an apartment, but can’t move into it for a couple of days. They’re painting and putting in a new carpet. Right now, Greg’s been nice enough to let me stay at his place. Actually, he’d like me to stay period. But I’m not. We’re done.”
Nancy spoke, “Give me your phone number, Brenda. I’ll call you and then you can save it. We’ll keep in touch.”
“Okay. I gave her my number, and she called me and I saved it.
Paul said, “When you get settled in that apartment, give Nancy a call. We’ll all get together.”
“I’ll do that,” I replied, feeling a sense of excitement about the whole thing. I was anxious to learn. I wanted to learn all I could about this ‘spiritual’ Satanism.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was after ten. “Well, I’m sure the church is about cleared out by now. Don’t want Greg to think I got lost or something.”
Paul hiked an eyebrow.
“I just don’t want him looking for me. I’ll be out of there soon enough. But for now, don’t want any problems.”
“Cool.” Paul winked. “We got ya.”
I ordered my coffee ice cream cone from Mike and waved to my friends, one old and one new, and left. I actually skipped all the way home. I felt like a little girl again.
My good mood died quickly. Greg was waiting for me. Instantly, I knew he was angry when he jerked the door open for me. “You were with that witch!”
Instantly riled – he’d been spying on me – I hotly retorted, “I went to grab an ice cream, Greg! I had no idea she was there. She just wanted to introduce me to her new boyfriend. I was being polite. And since when is it against the law to be friendly?” I stuck my ice cream cone in a short glass and set it in the freezer. I was too mad to enjoy it now.
Greg came up to me. I could readily see he wanted to say more, but thought better of it, since I was staring daggers at him.
“Okay. I’m sorry. You’re right.”
“Honestly. I had no idea she was back here. I wasn’t going to
be rude.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “I saw you head for Baskin Robbins and I thought of getting a cone myself, but then I saw you talking to Nancy … and … I guess I just kind of freaked out. I thought maybe you’d been in contact with her all along… That you’d been lying to me.”
I stood there staring at him. He was hopeless. “Think about it Greg. You know I am moving out soon. What has been done has been done. And that was the first time I’ve seen Nancy since the incident in church. As far as our marriage goes, we’re done. You know that. You do know that?”
He wriggled his head up and down. “Don’t want to believe it. But yes. I know it is. Just a hard pill for me to swallow.”
“It has been a pretty big pill for me too. All of it. But I can’t be … I am not the person you want me to be. I’m sorry.”
“We can still be friends, though? Right?”
“I hope so, Greg. I really hope so.”
With a sideways nod, he said, “I guess that will have to be enough for now.” He half grimaced and half smiled, looking around and then back to me. “Well, I’m tired. Going to take my shower and head for bed. Night.”
“Night, Greg.”