It doesn’t make sense to me, Loretta said. Mom was a religious person. She believed in everything the good book says. I’ll never understand, she told John.

Some things we’re not meant to understand, he said into the phone. I know she was miserable. Knew she wanted to leave this life.

You knew?

Every Christian does, John said. They want to go to heaven. Live out eternity with Jesus. Personally, I think it sounds a bit boring.

What are you saying, John?

Life is hard. Dad was a drunk. A womanizer. Probably still is. We’ll never know.

But mom had faith, Loretta said.

Yeah. Look at what that gets you. When it’s time to leave, you leave. That’s just how it goes.  Either you decide or someone decides for you. John lit a cigarette. 

Are you smoking inside the house?

Yes. Drinking, too.

You’re going to wind up just like dad. Loretta’s voice threatened.

Maybe.

Do you ever wonder where he’s at?

I imagine he’s dead by now, John said. The body can only take so much. Or, in mom’s case, the spirit can only take so much.

See. You do believe.

Sure. Just not in Christianity.  I believe I’ll come back a nine year old Hindu boy. John laughed.

Goodbye, John. Take care.

Goodbye, Loretta.