We were just two boys away from home, looking for a little religion on Sunday

Kingdom Hall of Jehovah’s Witnesses (photo TheeErin Flickr creative commons)

(Updated July 2012) We were doing the MacDonald’s drive-through for supper.

That new Angus burger almost tastes like a hamburger.

My gal has catechism class and the rush was on.

“Why don’t you guys skip that class?” I asked. “Isn’t everybody busy enough with Christmas and shopping.”

Whack on the right arm. There’s nowhere to hide in these efficient, little cars.

We were driving down Nassau Street and at Queen, I pointed to a rectangular, little building.

“Did you know that used to be a Jehovah’s Witness Kingdom Hall,” I asked ever the fountain of useless information.

“You mean the daycare?” she answered.

“Yeah, used to be a Kingdom Hall back in the 60’s, one of the few I got kicked out of.”

“What did you get kicked out for?” she asked taking the bait. I love the stories about the past especially mine.

“Yeah, back in ’64 or ’65 my brother Brian and I were camping on the North Shore. We came in one Sunday night to go to the evening service.”

“Why did they kick you out?” she asked. Usually I don’t like to be interrupted once I get the go-ahead but I let her get that one in.

“This guy who was like an elder, well he was an elder stood in the doorway and wouldn’t let us in. He’s still around Charlottetown cleaning windows all skinny and stooped over, with his bucket and squeegee.”

“I’d think two boys camping should be encouraged to go to church on a Sunday when they’re camping even if you didn’t have a suit on,” she said falling right into line. “Was your brother more religious than you or did you like church then?”

I was so good then and I’m so good now, I thought. This story is working.

“Yeah, he was really religious. Only other time I can remember getting the boot except that time down in Harris, PA when the Pennsylvania Dutch elder didn’t like my hound’s-tooth pants and Beatles hair. And the time I left for the JW’s for good. Man that was a great day.”

“Why did you come in from the camp site? To go to church?”

“No that’s not it, you were looking for girls!” she whacked me again on the arm.

“No, my brother was looking for one of the Matheson girls from Albion Cross” I replied trying to gain the higher ground.

“It’s a good thing he didn’t marry her because she was a real pain and married this tight assed guy from Sudbury. He was always ragging my butt.”

“Watch your language” and the look came back.

You can see that look she was giving me when you’re driving, looking straight ahead and it’s dark out. It goes straight into the windshield and reflects right back into your eyes.

“No he really was a tight ass. He had colitis real bad and when he would get upset with me in the 70’s., I took special delight in knowing I was making his ass twitch,” I replied laughing out loud and then into my hand when it was clear no one else was laughing. I was still chortling as we pulled into the drive through.

“You are something else. I should have known you’d be chasing some girl not going to church. You didn’t change much.”

Thinking I was getting somewhere, I stepped in further. “Yeah when I left Nova Scotia for Montreal, they said it was because I’d run through every JW girl in the Province. That’s not true. There were a few I never dated.”

Whack.

It didn’t matter, I was bent over the steering wheel laughing so hard. I was the the deep belly laugh saved for my own jokes.