"Mornin', Jamie!"
I turn to see the Reverend Roderick Cox grabbing a couple of tangerines from the large produce bin beside me. I, for my part, was trying to find a single good looking tomato in the sea of bulbous red fruit before me.
"Morning, Reverend. How's the wife? Haven't seen her out and about these days?"
A shadow seems to cross the Reverend's face, and he lowers his eyes. Stabbing a slender hand into the bin of tangerines, once again, he finds a worthy specimen and shoves it into his hand basket. Finally, he meets my eye.
"She's not too well, Jamie. The cancer's back. In her lungs this time."
"My goodness, Reverend! I'm sorry. Well, if there's anything you two need...Tilda and I are always here for you. All you have to do is ask. I can send Tilda by with somethin' for you and the missus to eat? Or, maybe she can watch over your missus for a bit? You let me know, Reverend."
"Oh, the Lord has got things well in hand, Son. He'll see us through this too. Or, my Molly will join him in Heaven. Either way, it is God's will."
The Reverend pivots slightly as there is movement to his left. A tall black woman, of medium brown hue, approaches the produce bins. She eyes the two of us warily. Deciding whether or not a few tomatoes are worth the effort of interrupting our conversation. She decides that they are.
"Excuse me. I need a couple of those."
She points casually toward the tomato bin I am leaning against. Suddenly, it is like a light goes off in my brain. Straightening myself, I manage a sincere smile.
"Carla? Carla Webber? I ain't seen your old man in forever. Come to think of it, it seems like forever since I've seen either one of ya. How's ole Richie, doin'?"
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Carla shrugs, her eyes moving in the direction of Reverend Cox. Her discomfort seems to grow.
"He's fine," she says through teeth only two shades darker than pearly white. "He's working out at the nuclear plant again. Maybe you might see him there?"
Behind Carla, the Reverend reaches into the bin of tangerines, yet again. A scowl crosses his face as he tosses a few away in disgust.
Carla reaches out a jeweled hand and grabs a large, juicy tomato from the top of the heap. She inspects it, grabs a second one, and offers me a small wave.
"Throwing some burgers on the grill this evening. Maybe you could drop by? We live in the same house, you know? Last one on the left. Lamhurst Road. Can't miss it. Only house that's gray. Gotta go. See you 'round, Jamie! Bye."
She nods in Reverend Cox's direction.
"Reverend."
With an energetic final wave, she walks away. I find myself following her with my eyes. My gaze lingering on her solid rump, squeezed into a pair of jeans far too small. Carla always had been well above average. With her large chest and round bottom. Ole Richard was a lucky guy.
Thinking of returning to my previous conversation with Reverend Cox, I find him watching Carla's departure as well. A look akin to hatred is painted on his face.
"Reverend?"
His voice is cold as steel when it emerges from around his clenched teeth.
"How the Lord can allow such mockery of his word is beyond me. I will never understand...Forgive me, Lord. She calls herself a wife, but shows all of her wares off to the world. Is there no shame? My Molly is laid up...Praying to the Lord every waking moment for salvation...And women like that...Is there no shame? Does no one love the Lord, anymore? Sorry, Jamie. This has nothing to do with you. I will have to meditate on HIS Word and talk with the Lord about this. So, when can I expect to see you in church?"
"Soon, Reverend. Our contract in Sumner is up today. So, we're back workin' in town for a few weeks. But, when I can't make it in person; I watch you all on the Livestream. Maybe not this Sunday. We're taking Tilda's brother out of town this weekend. But, probably next Sunday."
"That's wonderful, Son," the Reverend pats my shoulder passionately. "That's wonderful. I'll see ya next Sunday."
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