Objects of Worship Read Free Page A

carrying a little paper bag. “For you.”
    Rose opens it and finds an almond croissant. She leans
over the counter and gives Sara a quick kiss on the lips.
    Rose breaks off a tiny morsel of the croissant and hands
it to Sara. “Would you . . . ?”
    “Uh . . . sure.” Irritation flashes on Sara’s face, but she
forces a grin. She places the tribute on the god’s altar,
hurriedly singing a line from a children’s ditty. The god
accepts the tribute.
    “See, I even remembered to sing. Be right back.”
    Sara quickly scans the shelves and picks a DVD. Walking
back toward Rose, she waves it in the air. “Weren’t you supposed
to bring one of these home?” It’s a copy of Burning Sky .
    “Shit. I forgot. Sorry. Take it, and I’ll handle it.”
    “Alright, babe. I gotta go. I might be out late tonight. Don’t
wait up.”
    Sara gives Rose a quick peck on the cheek and is out the
door before Rose even has time to utter, “What?”
    Rose presses her face against the window. Already
across the street, Sara walks away briskly, arms entwined
with another woman’s. A tall woman with long red hair.
    The home altar is still filthy. The god is flaccid, discoloured.
Sara has been neglecting it.
    In Sara’s absence, Rose offers tribute to the god, but it
ignores her.
    Rose worries about her baby.
    When Sara finally gets home in the middle of the night and
slips into bed, Rose feigns sleep.
    The god instantly latches itself onto Sara, glowing
brightly. Through half-closed eyelids Rose sees it take
tribute from Sara’s mouth, drinking her saliva.
    The god darkens, oozes stinking grey goo all over Sara,
all over the bed. It rushes out the bedroom.
    “Oh, fuck!” Sara wipes her face on the clean underside
of the pillowcase.
    “You kissed her,” Rose accuses. “That woman. That
heathen.”
    “Not heathen. Atheist. Heathens worship invisible gods.
Jane doesn’t worship at all.”
    “How can anyone not worship the gods? They are with us.”
    “Whatever. Let’s not argue.” Sara gets up, walks to the
bathroom, and cleans herself with a wet towel.
    Rose follows her in. “I’ve met her before. At the store.
She angered the god.”
    “Yeah, she told me. She was scoping out the neighbourhood. Jane’s our new neighbour.”
    “An atheist? The resident gods won’t accept her. It’ll
cause trouble for everyone. Look what you did to our god.”
    “Well, maybe we don’t need the gods.”
    “The gods give us life, give us children.”
    “And why do you think the gods do that? Maybe because
they need us to take care of them? Is that what you want
our life to be about?”
    Rose clenches her teeth. “We are the chosen of the gods.
We are blessed. What can be more important?”
    “Listen, babe, Jane has lots of ideas that I . . . that I agree
with. Things that I’ve been thinking about but was too
afraid to discuss with anyone, even you. Talking so freely,
it made me giddy. It opened me up. We just kissed.”
    Rose makes an exasperated sound.
    “Okay, well, maybe a little more. But it was just tonight.
I was swept up by the evening. I still love you. And the
baby.”
    “What about the god?”
    “I didn’t say I wanted to change our way of life . . . but
things might not be how they seem, how we believe they
are. Maybe society should change. It’s worth thinking
about, that’s all.”
    “So . . . how does she live?”
    “Well, she doesn’t keep a god. Other than that, she’s just
like everyone else.”
    “But that’s no life.”
    “Why not?”
    “There’s nothing to connect her to the harmony of
the world. It’s an empty existence. Meaningless. And it’s
irresponsible. Selfish.”
    “You don’t understand. Maybe you should meet her.
She’s knowledgeable about the gods and their relationship
to us. Talk to her.”
    “Never. Especially not while I’m pregnant. Promise me
you’ll stop seeing her. For the baby’s sake.”
    “Rose . . . I can’t do that. You can’t dictate to me. Or
blackmail me like