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Show Ida's Sabbath 91 After fifteen years of marriage, Louis had stopped going to church with Ida, started to lose weight and smoke the cigarettes he had given up when Ida had insisted on a temple marriage. He had sworn off beer, coffee , and cigarettes, all for the love of Ida. But his new leaf had aged, crinkled, and disintegrated. "Why do you have to smoke, Louis?" Ida had cried for two days straight when she found out. "It violates your body. Your body is sacred." For a while, in deference to Ida, Louis had smoked behind the Lava Hot Springs billboard on the road out of town. Then he moved into the backyard for a month until he said he didn't care what the neighbors would say and started to smoke on the front porch in the evenings. "We can't v i s i t the temple anymore i f you keep this up, Louis." " I don't want to go to that sanctimonious booby hatch, Ida. I've had i t . " "Louis. This i s n ' t like you. The devil has gotten his hook in you. Let's call the Bishop." "We aren't calling anybody, Ida. This is my home, and we're going to run i t my way for a change, starting with you taking off those shapeless garments, at least at night. Why don't you wear some real underwear for a change-a l i t t l e colored lace, a l i t t l e peek through. I want a woman who knows something about loving a man, not some far away God." "Maybe I wasn't f a i r to Louis," Ida thought, "but yet, how could he be so careless about sacred things?" Snatches of the opening prayer drifted in and out of her head: "And bless Brother Nelson that he w i l l be protected in his time of illness." |
