Positivity Forever

“Let me ask you a question if I might?”

I’m trapped. I’d seen them earlier on my morning walk around the neighborhood. Down on 28^th street, between Roosevelt and Barrett. Their slow methodical walking. The tan suits and somber dresses. In no hurry at all. Stopping on the sidewalk to gather and chat. Methodically making their way to each front door, where with a knock, they’d corner the hapless occupant with the Scripture.

            Jehovah's Witnesses.

            Now, since I’d left my door open, with only the screen between me and the elderly gentleman, a little hunch of a man, black mask, open bible, tan suit, stands on my doorstep. A handsome middle-aged man stands behind him, grinning openly at me.

            Praise the lord for him!

            “Sure,” I respond. For some reason, today, I don’t slam the door in their faces. Why? I don’t know. First off, I knew they were canvassing the neighborhood, so it was no surprise to have them appear on my doorstep. I’d essentially invited them. But more than that, I was in a good mood.

            Sometimes that happens. I get enough sleep the night before. I don’t have to work. I get in a good walk with lots of cat pets. An entire day looms before me, free and clear and beautiful.

            Now, I’m welcoming his question because, why the hell not?

            “Do you think that it is possible to have positive thoughts for the rest of your life?”

            “Yes!” I proclaim. It’s such a ridiculous question, what else could I say?

            He pauses, for a moment flummoxed. “You are the first person this morning to say yes.”

            “Well,” I say, “I’m on vacation.” As soon as I say this, I think to myself, oh no, now I can’t get away from them claiming to be hard at work. He ignores the vacation reason, but Handsome Man behind him chuckles.

            “Would you be interested in lessons from the Scripture?”
            “Oh, no, I have enough to study right now,” I say, the phrase on Duolingo that I’d been practicing when they knocked on the door still running through my head: “Los servicios estan detrás de esa puerta.”

            I refrain from repeating this to the Jehovah's Witness. I don’t need them coming in and using the bathroom.

            “I see,” he pauses for only a moment. There’s an answer to this response. “Well, then let me make a request of you to go on our website, JW.org”

            “Oh, sure,” I gush, “I’ll be sure to do that.”

            “Thank you,” he says, now opening the Bible. “Let me leave you with a verse from the Scripture, if I may, Psalms 23, ‘Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord, forever.’”

            I almost say, “Amen,” but stop myself in time. I really don’t want a Bible lesson right now. But there is something so earnest about him, that I can’t dismiss him. Or make fun of him.  He really believes what he’s reading. You can tell. And, frankly, there is something to be said for this. A belief in your life’s purpose, whatever that may be. Spreading the word of the lord or teaching veterans how to write essays.

            Handsome Man lights up, “Well, you have a good weekend here in Richmond where we’re enjoying the nice cool weather. I live right down the street and I feel lucky to be in Richmond.” Evidently there’s supposed to be some massive heat wave descending upon the Bay Area this weekend, but so far, Richmond has been spared. I’m sure it’s the Lord’s doing.

            “Yes, I will, though I hear the Heat Dome is coming!”

            Handsome Man nods. Earnest man has turned and is descending the stairs, but before he leaves, reminds me again to check the website.

            I assure him I will. Does he know that I’m lying?

            I think lying can contribute to positivity if used in the correct doses. Today, the lie seems appropriate. Who will ever know? Who will it hurt?

            No one.

            I watch them move slowly down my front path, Handsome Man back on the sidewalk first. Earnest Man clutching his Bible, shuffling now beside him.

            I head back into the bedroom and pick up the phone. Duolingo has been waiting:

“Ellos estudian para ser mechanicos.” I repeat the sentence slowly, happy to know that I can say how they are studying to be mechanics and thinking how chatting with the Jehovah's Witnesses will make a good story.

            Positively! Perfecto! Bueno!