optimal shape, his countenance was dismal.
“E, man, you know how it goes. Sometimes you have your good days and others you have your not so good days. Ain’t nothing I’m not managing and giving over to God through prayer and fasting.” He cracked a wry smile. “Have a seat, man. You’re looking debonair as usual. Your swag turned up a few notches. Is that what marriage does to you?” He chuckled, jeering at me.
I couldn’t help my unexpected leer. The mere thought of Alexis did that to me. She’d been coming around. And for that, I was a satisfied man.
“That and makes you reconsider every thought before it becomes an action.” It was my turn to chuckle.
“I hear that, man. It’s a beautiful thing, and you deserve it. You’ve held out long enough. I thought you’d be like your boy, Bishop Jones, and never marry.”
“Bishop has been married,” I corrected.
“Really?” His expression turned quizzical. “I thought he was like Paul and opted for singlehood and ministry.”
“No,” I scoffed as I shook my head. “That has been his preference for around twenty years since divorcing, but he has children by his wife, whom are older than you.”
“Wow?” his eyes stretched. “I know the ladies love him. I’ve seen him out at functions. He’s a magnet out there!” We laughed together.
Bishop Jones has made it clear to me over the years that he prefers being single. I never challenged him on it. I would, however, tease him from time to time. I, too, knew the women loved him. At sixty-five years old, he was more vibrant than men half his age, and kept in great shape. The man still had a six-pack. He was regimented in diet and mild exercise. I guess younger parishioners like Trent here were drawn to that vivacious nature Bishop exuded. It was well known how close we’d been over the years.
“Yeah. The ladies love Bishop,” I replied drily.
“Y’all need to pass that over here. You’re now married, he don’t want to get married: I thought light-skinned dudes were coming back in style,” he joked.
“I’ve been hearing that conjecture for years. You guys stopped reigning in the nineties. It’s now our time, T.B.” We laughed in unison at that one, too. When I was able to come down, I tried calming for my purpose of asking him to meet this morning. “You know there’s a reason I called you out here this morning.”
Trent’s palms flashed open over the table. “I was curious as to why. I understand you’re still on leave from the church.”
I nodded. “Have only a few more weeks to go and couldn’t wait that long to pull you aside.”
The waiter came over to take our order. Trent declined, explaining he was fasting. I didn’t particularly want anything, but ordered tea to patronize the place.
When he left, I got right to it.
“Trent, I had a rough night of sleep last night. It started off with a nightmare of sorts. I was in the wilderness, at night with nothing but a flashlight. It was cold, woodsy, endless, and quite frightening, considering I was alone. I could hear the echoing of steps behind each one I made. I knew the sounds were not from mine; they were louder, almost from a big creature creeping up on me. But no matter how many times I would turn and flash my light behind and around me, I couldn’t find anything. I heard the howling of wolves, flapping wings of fowls, and the cries and movements of various reptiles.”
Trent drew closer to me over the table, clearly giving me his full attention.
“I was tired and hungry, and while that was to be expected and didn’t trouble me, what did was my state of dismay. I didn’t think I’d ever leave that wilderness. I’d been walking for miles—days! I couldn’t identify where I was, only why I was there. The worst part of it all was I didn’t know how long I’d be there. So discouraged, at one point I dropped to my knees to pray—to beg God, actually, to save me. I needed rescuing or I’d certainly be devoured