the mormons - a short story

Two mormons showed up at our door last night. Eight thirty on a friday night I should mention. I tried telling them that they're actions were probably futile at such an hour, and at such a place. "We are in the student village after all," I said. They stared back with big smiles.

"Does Kenny live here?" one of them said.

"No man, not on this floor at least," I said. They didn't seem to mind. They were just happy to meet another American. As it turns out they hadn't seen one in over six months, and since they were from Utah, and I was from New Mexico, the fact that our states touched somehow created an instant brotherly bond between us in their eyes.

They were standing over my bed smiling, and I was out of it. I had been taking a nap between studying for finals, and I was wiping my eyes and looking for a tee shirt. They didn't seem to care that they had woken me up, and I may have been too out of it to tell them to get lost, but we were brothers after all, so I invited them into the kitchen for a cup of tea. "Or maybe you'd like a cup of coffee?" I said.

"We don't drink anything with caffeine in it," the smiliest of the two said. I noticed his name tag on his jacket then, it said Elder Elderberry, but he didn't look a day over twenty one, so I asked him how old he was and he said, "nineteen." I asked him if the guy who made is name tag stuttered, and he said, "uh,, no,, what do you mean?"

Because it says "Elder Elderberry..." He kept smiling. "Forget it, lame joke," I said, "I'm half asleep still.

The other one, who hadn't said anything up until this point asked me how old I was. I told them twenty eight and they both looked surprised, but didn't stop smiling, a look that may seem difficult to pull off, but they managed anyway. Elder Elderberry said, "you look so young dude."

"Yeah, but i began life as an old man," I said, "and in another quarter century or so I will be but a tiny fetus." They didn't seem to know what the hell I was talking about. At this point I had made my coffee, and asked them if they wanted a glass of water or something. They said no, and I wondered if that was standard procedure, not talking drinks from people I mean, and decided that it was probably so. I wondered how many people they offended in Wales by saying no to a cup of tea, probably a few I thought.

It was then that I noticed the not as smiley one staring over in the corner at the trash bin. He wasn't smiling anymore, and he looked perplexed. I looked over to see what it was he was looking at, which meant that Elder Elderberry did the same.

Now let me back track for a second. Earlier in the day my Malaysian room mate Kenny came into the kitchen where I was cooking. He had his arm stretched out in front of him with a book in it and said, "do you know what this is?" I took it from him. On the cover it said "The Book of Mormon." I flipped through a couple of pages and noticed some writing with some names and dates and times in it.

"The guy on the street told me to read this," he pointed to some highlighted text in the book. "Why didn't you just tell him to get lost?" I said.

"I don't know, I'm too nice I guess, and he was really pushy," he said. "What does it mean? Who were those guys?"

"They're mormons," I said. "They probably want you to start a compound with them, marry a few wives, pop out a few dozen children, you know... give tithing... all that good stuff." He didn't laugh. He turned around and started walking out. As he was leaving I heard him say, "I don't understand. I'm a Taoist." I laughed a little as I made my pasta.

Ok, now flash forward a few hours, and I'm standing in the kitchen with the two mormons, and we're all staring over at the overflowing trash bin, and what was laying on top with an aluminum foil seal from a container of yogurt stuck to the cover of it? You guessed it... the Book of Mormon. I definitely wasn't expecting to see that, and part of me wanted to laugh at the irony, but instead I could thing of to say was, "oh shit."

Nobody said anything for a few seconds, which felt like longer of course because of relativity, and the fact that the faster the thoughts travel through you mind the more time stands still (at least that's how I think it works), so I look over at the less smiley one at this point who is completely frozen and sullen, and I realize that this is more of a big deal to these guys than I initially thought.

I started to feel really bad at this point, and I was about to say something about the fickleness of insouciant youth when Elder No Smiles stands up suddenly and says, "Fuck!" sending the chair flying back toward the wall behind him. He lunges at the bin and grabs the Book of Mormon, taking the yogurt wrapper from the front of it and wiping it on his pant leg. He looks at me angrily. But not like he's angry at me, more like he's hurt.

I start to feel worse than bad at this point. I start to feel empathetic, which is worse because now I 'think' I understand where he's coming from. I picture myself in an foreign country, trying to do what I think is right, trying to communicate the thing that defines me as a person; gets me up in the morning; gives me purpose. I see people slamming the door in my face. I see people back home not understanding what I'm going through. The cold weather, the stupid suit, the kids backpack, the cheap bicycle, the dumb name tag. Everybody thinking my first name is Elder, and me hiding behind these things like a righteous crusader; starting to hate people even though I should love them; growing indignant. Resenting everyone for sending me here, my family, my elders, the church, and clinging to one thing to get me through on a daily basis - the word, my faith.

Everything else faded away at that point; only our stares.

"Lets go," Elder Elderberry said, as he grabbed his buddy by the shoulder; neither one of them looking at me as they walked out of the room.

I heard the door to the hallway open and close.

I let out a sigh, shook my head from side to side, and took a long drink from my cup of coffee.