Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Poker night

The last few bites of my apple were disappearing when Phil poked his head in the back door,
"Busy?" he asked.
I shook my head and swallowed. "Nope," I answered. "What's up?"
"I'm heading out to run some errands and wanted some company. You up for it?"
"Of course. Let me grab my keys."
Once we were in Phil's car, chatting and listening to the radio, I noticed the slight wrinkle in Phil's forehead.
"Okay, spill it," I said. "There's a reason you need company this afternoon, and I want to know what it is."
Phil was quiet for a moment, but his lack of denial was clear.
"I'm worried about Pete," he finally said.
My stomach clenched and my heart started pounding. "Oh?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even and calm.
"Yeah," Pete glanced over and I could tell I wasn't fooling him either, but he let it slide. "One of my errands happens to be withdrawing some cash for him. About $1,000."
"What!?" All attempts at calm and detached were gone as fast as a soap bubble in a hurricane. "Why in the world are you loaning him $1,000?"
Phil sighed. "Well, it's that or he loses his truck and then his job."
"Okay, that's the surface why, but I'm looking for a bigger picture here, Phil."
"When I asked him all he said was 'poker night.'"
My heart began to slow a bit. "So maybe he had a few bad nights, right?" I said.
The frown lines were back on Phil's forehead. "Maybe," he said without conviction. "But I've been noticing a...semi-return to Pete's former here then gone behavior. And after he said that I'm starting to wonder if he's got a problem."
"A gambling problem?" It seemed ludicrous.
"Well, that, and I think he's rolling in a crowd that's pretty out of his league," Phil continued. "I think he's in way over his head, and for more than just $1,000."
We sat in silence as Phil pulled into the bank parking lot. I stayed in the car as he went inside and tried to process what Phil had said. It made sense and would explain everything. But I couldn't shake images of various movies in which guys who couldn't pay their gambling debts got bones broken and appendages removed. I didn't want it to be true, but the more I thought about it the more possible it became.

Saturday, May 03, 2008

Carrie

"I have a hard time believing that someone as intellectual and creative as you really buys into God," Pete spoke from across the circle.
"I look at it a little opposite to that," John said. "I'm intellectual and creative because of God, not in spite of Him."
"I don't know man," I could barely make out that Tod was shaking his head. "That doesn't quite make sense."
John leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. "My mom died when I was six. It was just me and my dad, and like a lot of single dads he had to work and I fended for myself a lot and by the time I got to high school I was pretty self reliant, and pretty confident that it was just me taking care of me. I didn't need anyone, certainly not a God that I'd never really seen do all that much for me."
I saw a flash of white that looked like a grin. "Now we get to the part of the story where I meet a girl. Junior year, calculus. Her name was Carrie, and she blew me away. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and confident enough to stand up to my bullshit and call it for what it was...a whole lot of posing. She made it pretty clear straight off that she was a Christian and somehow that just made her more alluring; she wasn't like any Christians I'd ever known. Clearly, I was head over heals so when she started wanting to take me to a Bible study with her, I didn't put up a fight. It was a great group and the perfect place to really introduce me to Jesus; there were several other high school kids and everyone else was young and smart and people I'd have hung out with normally. Carrie knew I'd need to hear the gospel from people I'd actually be willing to listen to."
"So what did it," Phil spoke quietly from beside me. "What did they say that made the difference."
John thought for a moment. "It wasn't one thing," he said. "It was months of studying and talking and praying. Eventually what they said started making sense; when I opened myself up to the possibility that the Bible was true it just felt right, but it was the kind of feeling that takes over your whole being. There was an emptiness inside of me that I'd never even known was there and it was full now. I started studying more intensely with Kevin, the leader of the group. He helped me see the truth behind the faith growing inside me. I'd started feeling like God was real and Jesus really did die and come back to life to save me from a life of sin and death; Kevin helped me know it in my head. And after that everything changed."
"How?" I asked.
"I started looking at the world differently; life had purpose now, and the stuff that didn't," he shrugged, "I stopped worrying about it. Jesus took me -- all that unique John-stuff -- and made it better."
"What I really want to know, " Maria spoke up from her spot in Grant's lap, "is what happened to Carrie."
John grinned again. "Carrie and I went to college together, but about my sophomore year I started getting this idea that what God really wanted from me was a commitment to being different. I had no family -- my dad had died the year before -- and was in a perfect position in life to start going out in the world and really be Jesus to other people."
"So that's what you call this...gypsying of yours," Tod spoke again. "Being Jesus to the world."
"Exactly. I help people out when they need it, I try to spread a little happiness, and love, and if God tells me to, I talk to them about Jesus. Sometimes I just move on, knowing I've planted some seeds or maybe watered seeds someone else has planted."
Maria wasn't quite satisfied. "Well then where is she," she asked. "Did you break her heart?"
"I don't think so," John said. "Don't get me wrong, my heart was bruised pretty bad when I set out, and I think hers was too. We talked a lot about what I wanted to do with my life now, and I asked her to come along. But she said no; she said it was my calling."
I felt my nose prickle; sad, romantic stories really do get to me. I could just picture the tearful goodbye.
John laughed then. "Don't feel too bad for her, Maria," he said. "She's married now and has three kids. I stop by and see them usually once a year or so; they're really happy."
"What can I say," Maria laughed too. "I love a happy ending."