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“Hmm…” I took a deep breath. That was another odd topic for a jazz concert. No one had ever asked me that, not that I could remember. “You know, sometimes I wonder about that. Like, I do believe. I believe in God, but I don’t think I’m as holy as some of the people I know. I don’t carry my faith on my sleeve, so to speak. I pray every night before I fall asleep and I try my best to see the good in the world…to see the good in people. I truly believe that if more people did the same thing, if more people believed in God, and lived faith-filled lives, the world would be a better place.”
Kyle stopped walking and stepped back to look at me.
“Wow, that was really well put,” he said. “We’re going to have to get you a pulpit…Reverend Smith.”
“Whatever, silly.” I nudged him. “Since you’re such a smarty-pants, where do you propose we sit, Moses?” We’d been walking for a few minutes and I couldn’t see a clear space anywhere.
Kyle walked straight into the maze of people. After stepping over about ten blankets and saying “excuse me” at least a dozen times, Kyle stopped. “Here,” he said. He put the canvas bag down and handed over my gym bag. “This is a great spot,” he said, pulling out his blanket. I looked around and it was the only spot…
“I guess we got lucky,” I said.
“Well, you know, I don’t need luck.” Kyle pointed up to the sky. “I have my friend. If he can part the Red Sea, surely he can get us seats in the park.”
“Oh, no…no pastor jokes. Please.” I laughed.
“Okay, but don’t ask me to help you out if it starts raining out here.” Kyle opened the bottle of juice. “Then you’re going to want to be my friend.” Kyle and I laughed so hard, I almost dropped the glass he handed me.
“You’re so crazy,” I said. Kyle poured juice into my glass and held his up.
“A toast,” he said. “A toast to good times and great friends.”
“Cheers.”
“Looks like they’re getting started.” Kyle looked up at the stage. The members of the band walked onstage and took their places. The bassist walked up to the microphone and looked out at the audience.
“Greetings, good people,” the bass player said in a thick English accent. “Greetings,” he repeated, attempting to catch the attention of a few people who were still talking. “I hope you guys don’t mind if we warm up a bit onstage before we get things started.”
People in the crowd began to cheer. A man sitting next to me and Kyle whistled so loud, I thought my ears were about to pop.
“Great,” said the man on the stage. “I’m glad to see everyone’s in a good mood this fine evening in the Big Apple.” Loud whistling came from around the audience. Kyle bent over and covered my ears.
“I’m especially glad to announce that we have a special couple in the audience here tonight,” he added. “And I’d like to invite that special couple up onstage, because I hear that one of them has something very special they’d like to say.” The band began to play music softly in the background. Everyone looked around the crowd to find the special couple.
“Oh, this is so sweet,” I whispered in Kyle’s ear. “I wonder who it is.”
“Okay, where are you? Don’t be shy,” the bass player said, shielding the last bit of sunlight from his eyes. “Audience, maybe the couple will come up here if you all give them a big round of applause,” he added. Everyone began to clap.
“It sure is taking them a long time,” I said. I looked at Kyle and noticed he’d been dead silent since the man had walked onto the stage. He hadn’t even looked at me. In fact, he looked kind of nervous. Suddenly, it dawned on me. Were we the couple they were waiting on? “Kyle? Are they talking about us?” I asked, almost afraid to hear his answer.
“What?” Kyle replied, turning toward me. “What are you talking about? We’re not a couple. Why would you think that?”
Just then a black man and an Asian woman walked onstage.
“Kim, I have something I need to ask you,” the black man said, taking the microphone from the bass player. The girl’s face was as red as a radish and I could see her hands shaking. The man got down on his knees and the crowd started cheering. Even Kyle and I stood up and began to clap. The man pulled a little blue box (good taste!) from his pocket. “Kim, I wanted to ask you if you would do me the honor of being my wife?” he said, holding the ring up to her. The band stopped playing; the crowd fell silent. It felt as if time had stopped ticking. I could see tears on the woman’s face. And before she even said it, I knew her answer…
“Yes,” she said, pulling the man’s head to her chest. “Yes.” He slid the ring onto her finger, got up on his feet, and kissed her passionately.
“Go ahead, girl,” I heard myself say. I wrapped my arms around my waist and gave myself a big hug. It was nice to see two people in love, even if my own love life was turning out to be so tragic.
“What about me? I need a hug too,” Kyle said, holding out his arms. I giggled and gave him a hug. When I was about to let him go, the band began to play “Ribbon in the Sky” as the couple walked off the stage. “One dance?” Kyle asked, looking at me harmlessly.
“Okay.” I looked up at him. “I’m only doing this because I know you’re a man of the cloth and you can’t try anything freaky,” I said. “Plus, I don’t want you to make it rain on my head.”
As Kyle and I danced, I noticed how perfectly our bodies moved together. I mean, it’s not easy to find a good slow-dancing partner. Usually the guy is either too tall and bony or too short and fat. But I fit perfectly in Kyle’s arms and his chest seemed to curve in all the right places for my body to feel comfort. I closed my eyes and pretended he was somebody I loved, someone who had just proposed to me on the stage at a jazz concert.
“Troy?” Kyle said, interrupting my thoughts.
“Yes?”
