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“Ok. Yes. I was rude. And I’m sorry.”
In the lengthening silence, I begin to squirm. Annalise’s opinion of me matters. We’ve known each othermaybetwenty-four hours. I’m not surewhyit matters.
“Hmm. I’m calling you out on that, Gonzales. I don’t think you’re sorry at all.”
I open my mouth.
“And you shouldn’t be.”
Thrown, I stare.
She tosses one of her cute shoulders, and I’m reminded how awesome they looked in that halter thing last night.
Wow, I literally have the attention span of a squirrel.
“What they’re doing, where they’re going, is dangerous. I like Brett okay, but ever since Maddie told me their plans, I’ve wanted to wring his little pencil neck.”
This makes me chuckle. Yes, the guy could use a few turns at the weight bench. He’s going to need it where he’s going.
But enough about a couple I’ll never see again. It’s Annalise’s thoughts on the subject that interest me. “So, you’re not down with all the God stuff?” Since she’s their friend, I assumed she was.
On the other hand, she went home with me last night.
She sighs, gaze drifting out to the ocean. “Actually…I am. I believe He calls people to things, sometimes things that don’t always make sense. But in this case…” She shakes her head. “What can I say? I think it’s a mistake.”
Well that’s patently obvious but, “So you believe God talks to people?”
Showing me her face again, she squints at me for a long while. I know I sound antagonistic, more so than I actually am. Finally, she nods slowly.
“So He talks to you?” I hang on her every word.
At this, her gaze returns to the sea. “Yes, He does. But not in a very long time.”
I take time to digest this. Despite the events of last night, I’m not completely shocked she has a more religious side. I’ve known her brother a long time, and there’s always been something different about him amongst our coworkers. More scruples, I guess. Since some life-altering events this spring, coupled with finding the love of his life, Tripp’s, shall we say, spiritual side, has been coming out more. He prays before he eats, goes to church every Sunday, and talks to me about stuff he never used to. Tells me he’s praying for me. Yeah, I never quite know what to do with that one.
It’s not like I’m an atheist or anything. Mom raised us kids in church, and I bought in for years. Still do, I guess, but I’m also at a point where I’ve seen firsthand the bowels of our world. When I try to filter it all through the lens of a god, a loving one at that, I admit I get hung up. Not sure where that leaves me.
I do, however, scoff at the…children…who doubt the concept of evil. Naïve little sons of guns. “Well, I think He needs to speak to your friends and tell them to grow a brain.”
She narrows that powerful gaze at me. “Isn’t this kind of the pot calling the kettle black?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re just like them.”
“I don’t follow.”
“You’ve chosen a dangerous career.Chosen.It’s not like you have to do what you do.”
I dash my head. “Still not following.”
Her arms fold. “Don’t be dense, Marco. In effect, you’re a public servant. You do what others won’t because it has to be done. And it’s dangerous.” She emphasizes the word. “Really dangerous. Maddie and Brett are doing the same thing because they want to help people, too.”
My head, of its own accord, begins to shake. No, she’s wrong.
“Yes, Marco. You take extreme risks, place yourself in dangerous situations, all to keep deadly drugs off the streets and out of kids’ hands. That kind of thing. Plus, you give up the opportunity of having a normal life to do it. So, uh, yeah, I’d say you should ease up on my friends.”
Words fail me. There has to be a flaw in her logic, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
