Toilet Stories
Page 6
The End
The Only One
It was a beautiful day not only because I got a check from the last job I was on that I had been waiting for but because it felt so good to be outside you just wanted to be out there doing something. I paint murals for a living so I do a lot of outside work mostly on small businesses like restaurants and such. Unfortunately a lot of people take ninety days or so before they pay you once the job is done. Paydays are not all that common so today I was feeling like I was on top of the world. I cashed my check, came out of the bank with a bounce in my step and felt that nothing could possibly mess up any part of the rest of my day. When I went to my car I could see that the person that was parked by me was having a hard time starting his car. I asked the man if he needed any help. The man said yes. He told me that the battery cable had come loose but he did not have any tools with him to tighten it back up with. All I had was a couple of screw drivers and a pair of pliers in the trunk of my car but we managed to get the cable back on and get the car started. He was thankful that I came along when I did and offered to buy me a cup of coffee at the café across the street. I figured there were no harm in that so I went along and sat with him.
After we did the usual small talk, he told me that he was starting up a new congregation in an old church about a mile or so outside town. He asked me if I wanted to go see it after we finished our coffee. “Sure” I said, “Why not?” When we were finished we got up and went over to our cars. I got in and followed him over to the church that had been empty for the last fifteen years. It used to be a Second Baptist Church with a small congregation that could not support the place enough to keep the doors open. It wasn’t long before the bank took possession of the church and it had been for sale ever since. It only sat about two hundred and fifty people and needed just about everything done to it from painting to plumbing, electrical, window repair, floors, etc. As we walked through the church the reverend pointed out all the things that they were going to do to make the church grand again. You could see the pride and excitement in his eyes as he went on with the tour. I mentioned that if he wanted some kind of mural for the church that I would give him a good deal on it.
I said, “By the way, I am Jerry Burrado.” I stuck my hand out to shake as he came back with, “I’m Reverend John Balm.” He had a firm handshake that a lot of men that are used to being in charge seem to have. There was an air of confidence about him that made you think that nothing could get in his way. It made you want to follow the progress he was going to make at the church in the near future.
I went home and cracked open a beer, turned on the stereo and laid back on the couch and just chilled. It was a great afternoon. After I finished the beer and got through about half of the CD that was playing, I fell asleep and missed the rest of it. When I got up about hour and a half later I picked up the local paper that had been sitting on the coffee table since yesterday and slowly began going through the pages. There in the middle of it was an article about the church I was just in earlier in the day. They mentioned that the Rev. Balm was looking for volunteers to help fix the old church up. It said to come with a tool belt and some paint clothes on and join in on the fun.
After a few days I took a ride out to the church to see how the progress was coming along. There were three cars and two trucks out there in the front. As I pulled in I could hear hammering, sawing and talking going on and you could smell the sawdust in the air as you went through the front doors of the church. There were about ten people in there scraping, painting and sawing away. The Rev. Balm was up on a ladder painting the frame around a stained glass window that looked very old but the glass was still in pretty good shape. There were only two stained glassed windows in the church. One on each side of the alter in the front part of the church. Everyone seemed to have a good time fixing up the church which made me feel a little guilty just standing there doing nothing. I told the Reverend that I was going to go home and get my work clothes on and come back and help out some. He told me that they were going to be here for a while yet today. I came back and stayed until dark with the rest of the people there. It felt good to be part of something positive with such nice people doing something that was going to make a difference in all of their lives when they were done.
As the weeks went by the church seemed to take on a life of its own. Everything was coming together faster than expected and soon the church was ready for some good old Sunday preaching. I was not one to go to church except for weddings and funerals but I was anxious to see how the first Sunday went so I bit the bullet and got my Sunday go to meeting clothes on and went over to soak it all in. The reverend introduced himself to the one hundred or so people that showed up and thanked all the volunteers for all the hard work they did to get the place ready. He preached an upbeat sermon, there was no fire and brimstone or fear of the devil, just stories about God. He talked about “Our God” like he and his little congregation had exclusive rights to him and if you wanted to go to heaven and have a front seat in the presence of the Lord then you better tow the line and come to church on a regular basis and not be one of those Christmas and Easter Christians that were so prevalent in other churches around the country. He then told everyone as he was finishing up the service to bring a friend to church with them next week. He gave them a blessing as he walked down the isle to the back of the church where he shook hands with the men and gave a slight bow to the women as they exited the church and went out to their cars.
I skipped a few weeks of church and did some mural work in a new restaurant that was going to open soon. Afterwards when the job was complete, I took a day and went fishing down at the lake in my canoe. It was so peaceful being all by myself on the lake sitting there with just a rod in my hand waiting for a fish to bite. I could hear the fish occasionally splashing somewhere as the birds flew by and made sounds of their own in the distance. Now and then a butterfly would go along and land on a plant along the shoreline of the lake. It was the perfect way to spend a day off from the everything and made me feel good all the way to my bones.
The next Sunday I got up the courage to go to another church service because I was dying to see how things were coming along since I was absent for a while. Now there were about two hundred or so people in attendance. There was a small choir in the left front of the church and a piano in the right front with an elderly woman playing hymns as the people filed in for the service. Once the people were all seated they picked up the prayer books that were sticking out of the slots in the back of the seats in front of them and started singing along with the piano player in the front of the room. They were hymns that I had never heard before, not that I was any expert on hymns, but there was something peculiar about them that I didn’t wake up to until the Reverend was well into his sermon. I noticed that in the hymns and in the sermon there was no mention of Jesus anywhere. The only mentioning of God at all was when he talked about “Our God” as he put it and nothing about Jesus, Mary or the Holy Ghost as I heard in other churches along the way. I thought that a bit odd but did not mention it when I shook hands with the preacher and said goodbye on the way out.
There was a man handing out flyers as people were leaving the church so I took one and walked out to my car. I went home and hung out for a while and then picked up the flyer that was handed out earlier and read it. The church was having a special learning experience on Saturday around three in the afternoon. All were invited to attend. It was still six days away so I did not pay too much attention to it. As the week went by I got more curious about the Saturday event at the church and wondered if it was going to be worth going to or not. Come Saturday I decided to go since I had nothing else planned anyway. I got to the church about 2:45 and took a few minutes to walk through the crowd and listened to the small talk that was being thrown around. I went in and was greeted warmly by the Reverend and the many people that were standing around in the isle. I was introduced to a few new people that were just joining the congregat
ion while the rest of the people started settling in their seats awaiting the preacher to start the special service.
The Reverend Balm took a stand in front of the church slowly pacing back and forth across the front of the isle looking out into the eyes of the people wondering if he was bringing them in or if they were immune to his preaching and teaching. He spoke in a very calming voice into the microphone assuring everyone that they were not only in the right place but in the only place that could save their souls from destruction while guaranteeing them at the same time a place in heaven with the most powerful God in the universe. He said that the people that attended other churches with different faiths and beliefs were worshiping “Fake Gods” that were getting them nowhere except going on their way down the wrong road to salvation.
He went on to say that “Our God” as he called him came to be the most powerful God by challenging the other Gods with games and contests until he was the only winner left among them. He told the stories with such calmness and confidence that everyone just sat there in total amazement. They hardly moved at all as if he had some hypnotic powers that led them on without any objection on their part at all. He wrapped up things with “Our God” is watching and counting on you to do his work. Go and embrace your neighbors and friends and bring them before me. I will show them the way to all happiness and peace of mind. Everyone slowly and quietly filed past the Reverend shaking hands but instead of speaking just gave a polite nod or bow before leaving the church.
I stayed away from the church for the next couple of weeks. I no longer felt comfortable going there as I used to. Another month or so went by and then when I was over at the café I heard that the Reverend was going to broadcast his Saturday and Sunday services to a nation wide audience on a religious station that was easily picked up by an antenna so you did not have to subscribe to cable to get the broadcast. Having it available on the antenna made it accessible to the people in the areas where is was hard to get cable or dish networks. I was surprised that it had gotten so big so fast. Once on the air it grew by the tens of thousands of followers. They brought some five acres next to the church where they put a big outdoor screen TV so that the people that gathered outside during the services could enjoy the live feed giving them a feeling that they too were a part of the service.
You could hear over the speakers on the big screen people cheering when the Reverend said, “Throw away your old Gods and join us in the only way to salvation known to mankind. The word is out that the rest of the “Fake Gods” are shaking in their boots and running for cover since we began to show the people the right way to the promised land. You can be one of us that go there or you can be one of those that are roasting in the bowels of Hell. There is no other choice so come and be counted among us”. They surrendered one by one and the movement became larger every week. The frenzy was on full throttle.
People around the world were beginning to become afraid that they might get found out that they were still worshiping the old Gods. They even started to worship their old Gods in secret places to keep the other people from finding out what they were doing. I quit going to the church before I got brainwashed into being just like them. I could not or would not become an “Our God” zombie like the rest of them had done. I fought it over and over in my head for weeks. If only there was a way to stop this and give the people back their lives where they could openly worship like they used to do, was it too late? What could a guy like me do? I was just a bystander that has nobody to work with or confide in. I decided to meet with some of the old style religious leaders and try to formulate some kind of plan to go up against these people that were so brainwashed that they no longer had control of their lives. Before long word spread and we met in an old barn in the outskirts of town one Saturday night. There were only about twenty five people there but it was a start. We knew we had to stop the “Our God” movement if anybody was going to get their lives back and able to freely worship the God and religion of their choice without being harassed by the Reverend Balm and his followers or anyone else. Just as we were feeling united and good about what we needed to do we heard a large truck drive up outside.
I went to the opening in the front of the barn to see what was going on when all of a sudden a shot rang out. I felt a bullet rip through my upper chest like a hot poker coming in at the speed of light. I grabbed my chest and fell to my knees not wanting to believe what just happened. Then as I was fading out I heard a barrage of bullets coming from the opening by a handful of men with semi-automatic weapons, the bullets tearing through the people that were gathered behind me. I could hear the screams above the gunfire as they were torn apart and sent to their death on the dirt floor of the barn. I was fading fast, no bright lights, no pearly gates or anything else, just blackness that was void of any thought or feeling. I was perhaps being punished in some way by “Our God” after all.
The End
Hangers And Shoes
I am a seven year old boy who lives in an apartment with my mom in the city where it is noisy most of the time with sirens from the cops, fire trucks, ambulances, and other emergency vehicles that seem to be ever present on a daily basis. Then there are the doors slamming in the hallway that echoed throughout the building all day long. It seems like nobody ever comes out of their apartment and closes the door behind them like a normal person would. The elevator is on its last leg and doesn’t work half the time which makes living on the seventh floor a bit challenging if you have a bunch of groceries or anything else that you have to carry on up there. My mom works at a convenience store down the street. Sometimes she has to work the evening shift which she hates but it is a job and she needs to work. When she goes to work if I am not at school, she puts me in the closet in the hallway until she comes back. She has been doing that for years so I am used to it. She goes to work, comes home and lets me out, then she fixes us something to eat. While we eat she talks to her friends on the phone while I take my food into the living room and watch television. When I get tired I go to bed and then it starts all over again the next day.
It is not as bad as you would think being in the closet. My mom puts a pail in there for me to use as a toilet and few snacks to munch on along with a jug of water to drink. There is no light in the closet so it’s pretty dark in there when you first get in but it does get a little better the longer you are in there. At first you could see a faint light coming in under the door from the hallway. You could only see about an inch or so into the closet at first but after your eyes get used to it you can gradually see more and more. By the time you are in there about ten minutes you can actually make out the tips of the shoes and other objects on the floor. I then carefully move things around to get a more comfortable way of sitting on the floor making sure I don’t dump or spill the bucket that I needed to use if I wanted to take a leak or do a number two. My mom puts a half cup of mouthwash in the bottom of the bucket to hide the smell so if I do make a doo doo it doesn’t smell up the place too bad.
You are probably thinking by now what I do all day while I am in the closet? Well lately I have been sneaking in some of my comic books and other reading material the night before while my mom is on the phone so she doesn’t catch me doing it. She gets real mad if she sees me reading stuff with the lights off. She says that it will ruin my eyes and then I would have to wear those thick glasses that the lenses look as if they came off the bottom of a soda bottle somewhere. Since it is one of the easiest ways to get my mom pissed I carefully hide the stuff in the closet where she would not find any of it. She might punish me by hitting me with the belt or worse if she found out. Once she held my hand over the burner on the stove until I screamed because I left the dishes in the sink that I was suppose to wash after we ate breakfast on Saturday morning.
I was in the middle of watching cartoons when she came in and dragged me into the kitchen by my ear and showed me the dishes in the sink. She then said, “I will teach you to listen to what I say.” Then she gra
bbed my hand and turned the burner on with this look of hate in her eyes. It scared me to death and I have not left any dishes in the sink since. Oh well, I am sure other kids have gone through the same sort of thing so it wasn’t that big a deal.
When my mom is at work I either go to school or spend the day or night depending on if my mom is working the night shift, in the closet. I don’t mind the closet too much, in fact I would rather spend the day in the closet than go to school any day. At least in the closet I can do what I want. I usually sneak in a book or two so once I get used to the light coming in under the door I lay on the floor with the book open and read stories for a good part of the day. Sometimes you have to tilt the book a little towards the light in order to make out some of words but mainly you could just lay it close to the bottom of the door and you could see good enough to read it. I have fallen to sleep many times and woke up with my face laying on the book in front of me. I feel safe being in the closet except when I hear noise that sounds like it is coming from the apartment that I can’t make out. The last thing I would do is call out to someone from inside the closet because it could be a burglar or someone that could hurt me. That is why I try to stay as quiet as possible while I am in there.
It smells like a combination of old shoes and moth balls in the closet but I don’t mind that so much. I sat on one of my mom’s high heals the other day by accident and broke off the heal on the shoe. Later that night when I was in the kitchen cleaning up after we ate, I reached under the sink and grabbed some glue to fix her shoe with. When my mom went into the shower I snuck down the hallway and quietly opened the closet door snatching up her shoe and carefully gluing the heal back on. I placed it upside down on the floor so the heal would not fall off while the glue was drying and scooted out of there. The next day was Saturday and my mom had to work so I was going to have to spend the whole day in the closet where I could check on the shoe and place it off to the side so it would not get broken again. I was getting bigger and since the closet was only 50 inches wide and 48 inches deep it was getting harder and harder to find a way to get comfortable while I was in there. If I moved everything over to one side I could sit up for a while where I could catch a nap or just sit there with my eyes closed and daydream about things and places where I could go when I was a little older. Then I would not have to stay in the closet anymore and I could go out and explore. The days rolled on and blended into one another.