My Deep Dark Secret, Mixed up with the Ancient Egyptians

Wake up! I shouted in my head. In my semiconscious state I forced my weighted eyelids open again. You are supposed to be writing…something. I shifted around in my seat a bit, propping myself up like I was preparing for great things, but then I stared at the fake light of the empty screen. What is it I am writing about tonight?

I filtered back through my day. The children and I played a little game I like to call Incognito. Actually the children were oblivious, I played a little game of Incognito. Basically, this is a game where you walk around doing your normal everyday life things with people you just met that you happen to really like, but you are harboring a deep dark secret. It is a game of lies. Because lies are fun, you know?

That was a lie. Lies are not fun. Lies suck. They are a heavy burden to carry, even when you aren’t fully lying. I didn’t lie to the nice new acquaintances I had acquired, I was simply withholding a bit of important information—the deep dark secret.

I stopped filtering through my day to twist my hair around my finger, and then untwist. I watched the golden strands swivel wildly off my finger, like a snake charging through the grass. Get back to work! I shouted in my head again, and instantly set my fingers on the keyboard.

So there I was with my kids and a lovely new homeschool group. While the children frolicked, the ladies and I talked. The ladies were the sort of women that didn’t wear makeup, didn’t drive new vehicles, and looked you in the eye while talking. Education was the topic of discussion, and it wasn’t pettiness, like how to decorate the homeroom door. On top of it all, these ladies were nice. It was the whole package. It was a homeschooling mom’s fantasy. But damn it, I had the deep dark secret.

I nodded off again. I jerked upright and looked cautiously at my surroundings. There was no sunlight coming in. I looked at the time. Twenty minutes had passed. Back to work!

This evening I sat at the dinner table with my husband and children. And I spoke the secret words, because the husband knew the deep dark secret already.

“These are church ladies. You know it is impossible to find a secular homeschool group around here. I’ve been nodding and smiling when they talk about their church activities. I just haven’t found a way to mention to them that I don’t believe in church. I believe in God, but not church. If I try to explain that to them, they will give me a blank stare and I will become that lady.”

Here is Ra, if you are an ancient Egyptian.

“God’s name is Ra,” the boy spoke up suddenly. We have been studying ancient Egypt. Explaining the idea that different cultures believed in different gods is a bit of a slippery slope with a five-year-old. My husband looked at my face and started to laugh, reading my mind.

I knew better than to say what I was thinking, because when you tell a five-year-old boy not to do something, it has a way of happening anyway. Please, please don’t say that at our next group meeting, I chanted in my head as I began the lecture on how Ra belonged to a completely different place and time.

I started blinking my eyes to evaluate which contact lens was fuzzier. Definitely the left eye. That one is practically a stained glass window.

I’m undecided what I’m going to do about the deep dark secret. I think I’m going to keep it close to my chest. I’m the quiet type, but I smile a lot. People fill in the blank with whatever they like that matches my smile, and draw their own conclusions. Then by the time they find out, they will already be in love with me, and it will be too late.

That’s my plan.

Immediately preceded by sleep.