Prompt: “Water”

Timed write, date uncertain

Photo by Marcos Paulo Prado on Unsplash

You are nine and you have accepted Christ as your personal savior and today is the day to seal the deal. Though you’re not thinking of it that way. You’re thinking how Jesus called you two weeks ago. You’re remembering how the preacher came to the house and Mom made him fried apple pies, but first you sat alone with him in the living room, formally, and he talked with you like the grownup saved girl you’d become. And now it’s Sunday morning and you’re in your panties and a white cotton gown that snaps at the back of your neck and you’re in a room off the baptismal and again you’re alone with him and the organ is playing Blessed Redeemer (is that a real hymn?). And he takes your hand in his and he leads you down three shaky tin steps and into the green-tinged light of the baptismal and the organ is playing and you would cry if you weren’t so nervous and enthralled and he takes his one hand and puts it behind your back and with the other he places his palm over your mouth and pinches your nostrils between his fingers just like he explained he would do and the water is warm like pee and the organ is playing and the water bounces all shining off the walls. His black robe is wet and you think how funny for this grownup man to be all wet in his church robe as he pushes you under long enough that maybe you start to worry. Your eyes sting because they’re open and looking up at him through the water and then you’re up and you’re saved and the organ plays more and someone is crying somewhere.