Demon

Brenda

Mom and I are in the kitchen fixing dinner, when my phone beeps. I glance at it. It’s a text from Ron. He spent the afternoon with his Dad! I text him back and ask if he’s coming tomorrow. No, he responds, he’s not well and can’t make it. He’ll tell me all the details when he gets the chance. Then he ends with “Sleep well” and a row of heart emojis.

That’s interesting. I’m glad that he got the chance to talk to his Dad, but I wonder what’s wrong. He’s unwell? I hope it’s not too serious. I know we haven’t seen Theo in forever, but I’m still fond of him. I used to get along pretty well with him. He had a wicked sense of humor, and used to enjoy trying to shock me. Some of his old stories were hilarious.

“Who was that?” Mom asks.

“Ron. He went over and talked to his Dad. It’s the first time they’ve talked in years.”

“Well, praise Jesus!” she says. “How wonderful. Will he be coming to the wedding tomorrow?”

“Apparently he isn’t well, and can’t make it. I don’t have any other details. I’ll let you know in a couple of days what Ron says.”

She carries a bowl full of salad over to the table. I follow with the fried chicken.

“Come and get it!” she calls out, to Dad and the kids out in the living room.

Gabe comes bounding around the corner and sees the fried chicken. “Oh, yum!”

Natalie giggles and sits in the chair beside him. She always seems to find his eternal appetite amusing. “Thank you for dinner, Grandma.” Mom smiles at her as she sits down.

“So,” my Mom says, scooping food onto the kids’ plates, “how is school going for you two?”

“Good,” Gabe says, barely waiting for her hand to leave his plate before he is gulping down his dinner. I have to agree with Natalie sometimes, it is pretty amazing how much Gabe can eat. He’s tall and skinny and growing, and seems to have a bottomless appetite.

“How about you, Natalie?” Mom follows up. “Is school keeping you interested?” Mom knows how smart Natalie is, and I’ve discussed with her my concerns that maybe her classwork isn’t advanced enough for her. She never complains about it, though.

“Yes, it’s interesting. If I finish what I’m doing early, there are plenty of books in the classroom to read.”

“You sure do like reading, don’t you? You said that you’ve already read the bible? Just a little bit of it? Or most of it?”

“Yes, most of it,” Natalie says matter-of-factly, apparently having no idea how unusual it is for a second-grader to have accomplished that. “I read the children’s bible you gave me the year before, but I was glad to get the real bible this year. I wanted to know more about the stories. Thank you again for giving it to me.”

“You are more than welcome, sweetheart. I am just delighted that you’re reading it.”

Warming to the topic, Natalie continues. “I like the language in your bible better than the King James one at my day care. It’s easier to understand. But sometimes the meaning of the stories comes out different in the modern language one.”

My Mom’s eyes widen in surprise. She looks over at me, and I nod and shrug. Yeah, I know.

“Well my goodness, darling, aren’t you just the little biblical scholar! Can you tell me which one is your favorite story?”

“Christmas,” she immediately responds. “I love the Christmas story so much.”

“I’m so pleased to hear that. Me too! Knowing how the birth of our savior came about is so special.”

Animatedly, Natalie continues. “It’s so interesting how other mythology got mixed in with the story. The virgin birth, and the star, and so many of the stories that people were already telling before then. Even the date, December 25, is just made up since people already celebrated other stuff on that day.” She happily takes another bite of her fried chicken.

Um.

My Mom puts down her fork. “Pardon me?”

Natalie has no idea that she is treading on dangerous ground here. My Mom can be pretty stubborn in defending her religion.

Natalie looks over to the side, and I think she suddenly realizes that Mom is offended. She looks back over to her grandmother with wide eyes.

“Young lady,” my Mom says firmly. “It is not for you to question the words of the bible. You must simply accept its lessons gratefully as the gift from God that they are.”

“Oh. Okay. Sorry Grandma,” she says, clearly not wanting to argue with her grandmother.

My Dad has been observing this exchange with a wary amusement. He goes along to church with my Mom for her benefit and for the socializing, but I know he does not share her fervent belief. When it seems that the religious dialogue is concluded for the evening, he pushes back his chair. “Well,” he says, “I think I’ll pop over to the hotel and see how Ron is doing. He shouldn’t be alone on the night before his wedding. Maybe we’ll have a little bachelor party.”

“Oh, pshaw,” my Mom says, waving her hand and laughing. “Bachelor party, you two old guys?” She stands up and starts clearing his plate. “Although, It’s nice of you to think of him. Yes, why don’t you go on over and keep him company for a while.”

I stand up and give my Dad a kiss on the cheek. “That’s really nice, Dad. I’ll text him and let him know you’re on the way. Give Ron my love.”