My thoughts are on Molly’s plump ass, how I’d like to spank it, bite it, kiss it, mold myself around it. That’s when Sam comes around the corner and stands smiling and I smile back. You know, one of those dumbass grins that says, “O shit! You caught me.” Only, Sam can’t read my thoughts -- except he’s a Christian; and for a second, I think he might start prophesying, “God told me you’re having impure nasty, nasty thoughts about Molly’s perfectly round bottom, and he wants you to know, before the rooster crows three times your penis is gonna shrivel and fall.” Or something to that effect. Anyway, he just stands there with an angelic smile, and I say, “How’s it going Sam I Am?”
“Oh fine,” he says, “much better since I had the growth on my tongue removed. Small, really, but it was painful and bothersome.”
Then I remember Debbie mentioning Sam battling cancer a few years back. “Oh yeah, didn’t you have cancer a while back,” I mumble and think, I’m fucking smooth, a master conversationalist.
“I’m terminal. I was told I have five years ... If I’m lucky.” Well shit, how do you respond to that. “I’m, uh ... wow ...” I sputter, but I guess it’s better then, "How many years do you have left?"
“No, it’s fine. It’s a blessing. God has given me so many opportunities to witness. Before, I couldn’t see beyond my nose, but now I see the lilies in the field. The sparrows in the trees. Before I was a miserable human being, now I see His glory all around me.”
“Well, God bless you brother. You know, my old man was a Baptist minister, and I’ve been reevaluating my life. The spiritual. I mean, at one time I was really involved in my old man’s church, thought about attending seminary after graduating from college. I monitored a Hebrew and Old Testament class at Northern Baptist Seminary; but at the time, it wasn’t for me. You know, where I was at and shi--tuff. Not a good place. I guess a lot of meaning for my life must be rooted with the cross at Golgotha.” He wells up and it's uncomfortable.
“I prayed to God today,” begins Sam, “that He give me two people, so that I may witness to them. He gave me a brother from my church, and He gave me you.” He pauses, then says, “At lunch, can I pray for you?”
“Sure,” I divert my gaze and a ray of light reflects off my sunglasses and bursts at the tip of my nose. The Star of David, I think as I walk away. “See you at lunch break Sam I Am.”
Who doesn’t need a little prayer once in a while? Who doesn’t need positive thoughts now and again? Who doesn’t need someone caring for them from time to time? Who in the hell doesn’t need a little mothering now and then?
In the distance I see Molly, and she waves. I watch her strut towards her car. “O Lord ...” I say a quick prayer for myself , then one for Sam. Justification. Sanctification. By grace. Yeah, that’s what it is, I think, and I head for the men’s room to wash my dirty hands.