Believers

Christ, I  thought, why did I open the door for this lunatic?

"Ma'am, we’ve been talking with your neighbors about what can be done to assure that there will be employment and housing for everyone. Do you believe that it is reasonable to expect that human governments will accomplish this?" she says.

Naveen on my hip is squirming now.

"Sorry, what?" I ask, hoping the baby will come through for me with some loud crying.

"Do you believe what we teach from the Bible, namely, that we are living in ‘the last days,’ that soon God is going to destroy the wicked, and that this earth will become a paradise in which people can live forever in perfect health among neighbours who really love one another?"

"Listen, we're not really into religion. At all." Now I'm bouncing the baby, hoping she'll see how busy I am.

"Many folks tell us that. Have you ever wondered why people like me volunteer to make these calls even though we know that the majority of householders may not welcome us?" she's now taking out a pamphlet .

Damn it, she has an answer for everything. It was the bloody snow outside and the cold look on her face that made me even answer the door. Plus she had on a pair of buttery brown leather boots worn on top of black leggings. Can they wear nice boots and leggings? Shouldn't they have to wear a sign or something?

"I should have just told you upfront, I'm not interested in this - uh, your religion." I say. Why can't the phone ring for the love of God?

"Let's not talk of religion. Most people would like to have the kind of government that is free from corruption, one that provides employment and good housing for everyone. What kind of government do you think can do all of that?" She continues completely ignoring my protest.

"Listen, I'm sorry but I don't want to talk about this. I appreciate what you're doing. But I have to go pick up my son from daycare." I say, relieved I thought of something tangible.

She smiles and looks at her watch.

"At 9 A.M.?" she asks.

Now I'm getting pissed.

"Okay, I've been trying to be polite. I am.not.interested in this."

Finally, I can see she gets it. She starts buttoning up her beautiful red wool coat wrapping what looks like a creamy black cashmere scarf around her neck. When the hell did Jehovah's Witnesses start looking like this?

"Maybe I can leave this with you." She says, pushing a pamphlet toward me.

"No, I don't want that." I say, bordering on rudeness now.

I closed the door and even though I was rattled, I couldn't help but notice how calm she stayed until the last minute. What the hell kind of brainwashing were they doing over there that this attractive thirty-something woman was happily willing to have the likes of me practically spit in her face all in the name of religion?


This post was motivated by the Red Writing Hood prompt: Trapped. Click over to read some of the other entries.

Post script: This is a work of fiction. I have nothing against any organized religion. I do however get irritated with door-to-door soliciting of any kind. Except little kids trying to sell cookies or wanting to make money raking leaves or shovelling snow. It helps if they're really cute too.

Besides, I can see a JW a mile away and usually run to the back of the house with the baby and like a coward pretend I'm not home.