Doubt Came to Dinner

Edward caught a glimpse of a shadow on the last step of his porch. He wasn’t expecting visitors. The figure began to walk up the stairs, slowly, holding on to the railing. It moved with frozen muscles, wooden planks creaking beneath its mud caked boots. Was this person a traveler? Were they lost?

It became obvious to Edward that the phantom was a man. Was he real? He couldn’t be sure. Removing his glasses he rubbed his eyes to get a better look. When he could see clearly he found the man leaning against the door frame, legs and arms crossed, top hat tilted slightly to one side of his face. The face, concealed by the night was familiar.

“Doubt, I wasn’t expecting you.” Edward said.

The man walked over and took a seat next to him on the porch swing, stretched his legs out, and placed an arm across Edwards shoulders. “Do you ever expect me?” Doubt answered.

The man lifted his head and breathed deeply. “Smells like you have been trying to whip up something nice. Comfort food.”

Edward nodded, “I guess you are staying to eat?” The man nodded. Of course he was. Doubt never visited without having a taste. He wouldn’t stay long, but the pot would be less full.

They both entered the home. Doubt moving like a man who had walked a long time. His boots torn at the toes, holes in the knees of his pants, leaving behind the scent of sweat.

“I thought I buried you?” Edward asked.

“You did! Boy did you.” Doubt said, displaying the filth on his clothes. “But, not deep enough.”

Edward started to dip out stew from the pot on the stove. It was the only way he could not look into his eyes. The longer he entertained him, the longer he would stay.

“I heard you praying over my grave. Pleading that I wouldn’t return.”

From the kitchen, Edward could hear the crickets chirping like eavesdroppers. Carrying two bowls, he takes a seat at the table and slides one to Doubt.

Doubt lifts his spoon and blows to cool down the soup. Steam dances around the air coming from his mouth. “My favorite. How did you know? This tastes like faith and promise.”

Edward watched him consume his meal. The more he stared the less the man looked like something to be afraid of. He became, in the light, almost friendly. Someone who he could share a meal with. Someone he could talk to.

He looked at Edward over his bowl, “You haven’t touched your food. You are waiting for me to finish, get full and leave. Yet, you should ask me the question you really want to ask. Why I keep showing up? Why can’t you get rid of me? Why do I always come when I smell food?”

The conversations paused. Doubt’s bowl was empty and Edward filled it back up.

“Have you ever noticed Edward, that of all those you consider friends, Faith, Love, Joy, I am always the one who shows up first?” The man reached for a piece of cornbread.

“I didn’t invite you,” Edward responded.

Doubt smiled, knowing that there was truth in that statement. It is the most honest thing Edward had said all evening. “Do you have to be invited in order to be useful?” Doubt asked.

Edward began to recall all the moments he spent with Doubt. When his mother was dying of cancer. The evening after a philosophy lecture in college where the professor made an argument that an educated and intellectual person could never believe in God.

“I used to think that feeding you meant that I would amount to nothing. That your real name was Fear.” Edward took the first bite of his soup.

Doubt smiled, pieces of cornbread hanging from the corners of his mouth. “It looks like I am just as misunderstood as you are. It’s funny how we assume so much about ourselves and never really take the time to get to know who we really are.”

“I like to eat. I keep coming back because you keep feeding me, but let’s be honest, Edward, what would you be without me.” Doubt placed his spoon back into his bowl. “You keep preparing these meals because you need me, and I do not want to control you if that is what you think.”

Edward stared at him, anger filled his eyes. “Yeah, then what do you want?”

Doubt cleared his throat and took a drink of water, “I want to remind you that you are human. You are hungry, so when you don’t have answers you prepare a meal. I am not the only one that smells it, I am just the first to show up. But, I am not the one to give you answers, I am here to make you uncomfortable with the not knowing.”

The man across the table began to sound and look human. He started to feel warm, almost comforting. This alarmed Edward.

“What I mean is, in all of those moments you buried me you found what you needed only after being so kind to share your table with me.”

“Yeah, and what is that? What did I find?”

Doubt wiped his mouth with a napkin and got up from the table.

“It’s time for me to leave, Edward. Don’t worry, I am doing this voluntarily. No need to get a shovel. You have a visitor. I don’t want to impose.”

Edward watched as Doubt left his home. He felt relief. For once, he didn’t put up a fight, for once he left a small portion in the pot. He didn’t consume all of Edward.

There was a knock at the door. Edward sat still at the table. Every muscle in his body let loose like elastic that had been stretched too far and too often.

He walks to the door and finds another man, barefoot and unbeknownst to Edward, it was morning.

He squinted under the new light of the day, “Are you him?”

The man stepped inside, “My name is Truth. Do you have a place ready for me?”

Edward allowed him to step inside and recalled the words of Doubt, “In all those times you tried to bury me, you found what you needed only after sharing your table with me.”