Wash The Devil. By CpSingleton © 2016
It had seemed like a comedy and she was going to shout “TAH-DAH!” At any moment.
He’d called over because she never made the effort to visit him and her grandson. There was always some excuse about her hip, but she could quite easily sit for hours as she drove across country in their campervan.
He stood in the kitchen and stared with confusion at the book she was giving him. It was his Granddad’s bible that he’d clutched throughout the war years. It was her connection to the only man she ever doted on and she was parting with it like it was a postcard from a work colleague.
“I don’t understand,” He stated.
“I’ve seen the truth and no longer need this bible anymore,” she told him with a strange robotic smile. “I thought you’d like it now, sweetheart.”
“You’ve seen the truth?” He asked with an hopeful smile of his own. “What truth?’
‘I’ve been taking bible classes and they’ve taught me the truth?’
‘Then, won’t you need this bible?’
‘No,’ she told him calmly. ‘I use a different one now.’
‘I’m confused. Are you not Christian anymore?’
‘Well, we call ourselves Jehovah’s Witnesses.’
‘But, you hated them.’
“I misjudged them. They’ve taught me the truth and you should come into the light too. Before it’s too late.”
“Seriously, Mum?” He asked, feeling the smile fade, yet awaiting the punchline. ‘You used to send me to argue then off the doorstep. Now I’ve got to do that to my own mother?!’
“You wash the Devil outta your life!” She snapped.
“And what shampoo do I need for that?”
He then realised that the punchline was never gonna come, as she forced him out of her house.