Summoning Minister Eddy Lesser

Eddy Lesser hopped into an old taxicab and headed for the train station to meet Nick, the older stepbrother he had not seen in over a decade. It was a Wednesday morning, the last week of spring in Lake Worth, Florida. Eddy adjusted the ear loops of the soft cloth mask on his face—the mask a much darker shade than that of the pearl-white shirt he donned. To have a safe journey, he mumbled a short prayer he assumed was inaudible to the cab driver.

Nick had phoned from Tampa a week earlier and spoken with Eddy’s wife, Solène. Eddy, who was unavailable at the time, first presumed it was a social call. But on returning the call later, the gravity in Nick’s voice gave him a gut-wrenching feeling. Nick said he needed to discuss with him three crucial affairs without delay. Eddy implored him for more details, but he refused and insisted on an actual physical rendezvous.

A man in his early forties with natural black hair, Eddy always knew he would be a man of God and be involved with the church to a great extent. This contrasted with Nick, who showed scant interest in any church affairs. Eddy could not recall when and why Nick stopped attending Bible study, except he had already joined Nick in high school. Sometimes, Eddy still had his black shirt and khaki pants on, memorizing Psalm Bible verses, when Nick stumbled through the front door, his golden football helmet in one hand and a half bottle of blue Powerade in the other. Eddy had yet to turn seventeen when he traveled overseas with fellow church members on Christian missions, twice in the Caribbean and once in Rwanda. But it wasn’t until after his return from visiting Nick a decade ago in Tampa that he confessed all his sins to God and promised to walk a straight path.

The taxicab had driven for almost two miles when the driver spoke: “Already got myself inoculated.” But Eddy was distracted, watching through the dew-flecked window the Baptist church he and Solène attended. The church, with a congregation of nine hundred people, had been shut down four months ago due to severe budget deficit. Being one of the two preachers, he could only pray for the doors to reopen as soon as possible.

“Got myself inoculated a couple of weeks ago,” the driver said again. “You?”

Eddy remained hushed long after he could no longer see the church. It was as though the driver was talking to someone on the phone but not Eddy.

“Alright. I take it as a no. Are you waiting for a sign from God? Guess this may sound just about awful, but I can’t say I feel sorry for those who caught it. You know, the ones who kept saying it was nothing but a little flu. You’re not one of those fellows, now, are you?”

A sudden pang of profound regret filled Eddy’s eyes. He caught the driver watching him in the rear-view mirror. Before Eddy knew it, his mind drifted to the thoughts of his brother and Bridget—Nick’s ex-wife, who was now a disabled woman living in Minneapolis, following a motorcycle accident. He shut his eyes a moment, mulling over a rational explanation in case he had to tell his brother why he had never gone to see him or called him in so many stinking years. Although he had not talked to his brother in over six years, their last phone conversation was still as vivid in his mind as though it were yesterday. They had exchanged not-so-kind words, with Nick’s voice sounding cold and, at some point, even hostile.

“It’s a simple question, Eddy. Did you sleep with Bridget or not?”

“How do you expect me to answer something like that?” a stunned Eddy had replied, lifting his eyebrows. The open Bible he had on his lap fell on the living room floor. A long, galling silence ensued before Eddy spoke again. “Where did this come from all of a sudden?”

“Very well, I tell you what, preacher. You let me know when you’re ready to have this conversation. Until then, don’t even bother calling me!”

Eddy gasped in dismay, his eyes full of regret. His hands became cold and sweaty in an instant, suppressing a sudden image of him and Bridget in each other’s arms. He buried his face in one hand while the other squeezed the phone to his chest long after Nick had hung up.

Solène had noticed a slight change in Eddy since Nick’s recent phone call. “Un manque de concentration,” she called it, as though Eddy’s mind was a million miles away. For instance, Eddy would alter the subject or feign sleep whenever she spoke of the gospel. Sometimes, a small, dry cough would emanate out of nowhere when reading a passage from the Bible or saying his prayer. She believed half of the spirit that once guided her husband throughout this divine process was now absent and so was the fearless sense of confidence Eddy often sported. This failed to manifest in his voice as he finally addressed the cab driver.

“Have you ever done something so appalling that you wish you could, as they say, turn back the clock?”

“Of course. Who hasn’t?”

“I mean something quite repulsive.”

“What did you do?”

“To put it as plainly as I can, I slept with my brother’s wife. Not once, but twice. Just days after their honeymoon.”

The cab driver whistled in bewilderment.

Eddy laced his fingers behind his neck, his arms closed together at the elbows.