*
The afternoon of Maundy Thursday. Mr and Mrs Hypostasis in the gym. She was Body. He was Soul. This day she was anxious to get to church and pray. She felt uneasy but he as usual took the antagonistic role, flexing his moral muscle, so to speak, pushing her to improve herself in the way that he chose. He was quite adverse to pain -- in himself -- but welcomed its powerful effect on his mate. She sat miserable at the 10th station, lifting blackish blocks of metal. He supervised.
Shouldn't we wash and get ready for church? she asked.
One more set, darling. One more set.
Oh it's time. Oh it's time.
And when there no longer really was enough time, he brushed his hands and said: Come on, let's make tracks. Not be late. Rude to be late. And the 2 of them went off to their separate ablutions. Driving to church, quarreling of course, they passed the gym instructor, another member, and offered her a ride. It would be so nice to have you in the car with us. No thanks, you are so kind but no, Elf said. I love to walk.
Passing with head high through any questionable blocks. Above her the sun lost confidence and its butterscotch candy melted away. Elf walked through the beautiful garden, its darkness and protection, and entered the church.
To find Don in the entryway, white as a coat of paint, unable to speak. What's wrong? What's wrong?
And he dashed out of church without saying a word.
END OF PART 1
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