"I hate that you're crying," he said. "I feel bad. I feel like it's my fault."
"How could this be your fault?"
"Because, like I said, I probably could have handled it differently."
"It's fine. It's better that I found out now. It would have been terrible to go through no matter when it happened."
"Well, I know it sounds cliché, but I usually try talking to God. You've said it's going to be terrible, and I just wanted to say that when I feel overwhelmed like that, I talk to God."
"I haven't done that in a while," I admitted.
"Daniel said you guys were church-every-Sundayers growing up."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I talk to God," I said sardonically. "I usually just volunteer in the children's church and sing Bible songs with the babies. I'd feel guilty asking God to help me get through something when it comes up, like I'm only thinking about Him when I'm in a pinch."
"He won't be mad," James said.
I laughed. "How do you know?"
"I just do. He's not… you should never feel like you can't go to God because you haven't been going to Him. That's the opposite of what He wants. He's the same no matter when you go back or what you've done. If you feel like you're about to go through something terrible, you should at least go into the fight with some backup."
I thought about that for a minute. "I didn't know you were such a big Christian," I said. "I didn't take you as that."
"I wouldn't call myself a big Christian, necessarily. I guess I am, but I never thought of it that way. I just heard you say it was going to be terrible breaking up, so God was the first thing that popped into my head. And then you said you'd been crying, so it just came out."
"I thought you were a partier," I said.
"Why because of the card tricks?" he asked.
"I don't know, I guess just because everybody's gathered around you all the time."
"They do that because of the card tricks."
"I just didn't expect you to tell me to go pray about it," I said smiling. "I wouldn't peg you as the pray-about-it kind of guy."
"I didn't think of myself as one, either, but I guess I am. I didn't expect you to call me in the first place, so this whole conversation was unexpected."
"I know. I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?"
"No. Not at all. Don't be sorry. I was working on my car, but it's hot out there. I needed to come inside, and get cleaned up."
"Are you having car trouble."
"No. Well, yeah, but no," he laughed as he spoke. "Yes, I am, technically, but it's not my regular truck. I have a truck that runs fine. I bought an old car to work on and fix up. I was out there, working on that."
"What kind of car?"
"A fifty-two Mercury Monterey. It was a piece of junk when I got a hold of it. I'm working on the engine, and I have a few guys on the base helping me with the body and interior. I'm learning a lot. It's become a hobby."
"I don't even think I know what a Monterey looks like."
"It's a pretty sleek looking little car," he said. "It's not a dream car of mine or anything, but I got it for cheap and thought it'd be a fun project."
"My brother would like doing something like that."
"He did like it. He liked it a lot. He helped me quite a bit. In fact, he's the one who tracked down the missing tail light I put in earlier this week. He drove with me to Macon to pick it up."
"My brother must like you," I said. "He said if something happened between you and Michael it must be Michael's fault."
"He said that?" James asked.
"Pretty much. I'm paraphrasing but that was the idea I got… that he trusted you more than Michael." James didn't say anything right away, and I let out a sigh that was full of dread. "The last thing I want to do is talk to him. He's not going to take it well, so that's not going to be a fun conversation. I'd rather just write a letter and mail it to his house."
"Are you scared of him?" James asked. "He's not going to hurt you or anything, is he? Because I'll drive over there right now if you're scared of him."
"No, no, no," I said with a thankful smile that came across in my voice. "I have a dad and a brother who would not stand for that. I'm just… I don't know. I don't feel like dealing with it, and at the same time, I don't want to wait. I want to just go ahead and get it over with. I wish I could just write him a letter, though."
"So, do that," James said. "Why not?"
"I don't know. I'll think about it." I was quiet for a few seconds, but then I added, "What color are you going to paint it? The Mercury?"
"Red. Dark red. Candy apple."
"Candy apple's not dark. It's bright, isn't it? Like a firetruck."
"No," he said. "I think of it as being darker, like a cherry."
"I think of cherry as bright red, too," I said.
"Maybe those sugary cherries," he said. "I'm talking about the real ones."
"The sugary ones are real," I said.
Both of us were smiling. It was wonderful to discuss different shades of red instead of confronting this storm of bad feelings that I had brewing just under the surface.
"But it won't be ready for paint for a while," James said. "There's still filling, sanding, and buffing, and I'm just learning about all that stuff, so it takes a long time for me to get it right."
Out of instinct, I thought of Michael and how he would love to help fixup an old car, but then my stomach turned when I remembered that he was no longer a part of my life. My emotions were so all over the place that I felt seasick.
"I thought about painting it blue or white, but I figured I'd go with the original factory color. But like I said, that's not for a while. I still have days and weeks of work before I get there."
"How do you find time to practice cards with all of the mechanic work? The tricks and everything. You must practice to get that good at it."
James laughed. "I used to. Man, did I ever. I spent thousands of hours practicing. Now I pretty much just pick them up when I'm around new people. I have a deck on my kitchen counter, and I pick it up a few times a week to keep my hands loose, but nothing like I used to. I would handle cards and practice tricks for six to eight hours a day back when we were on the base in Vietnam."
"I remember Daniel saying something about entertaining an opposing commander."
"I didn't know it at the time," James said. "I thought he was just a local."
"Daniel said he let someone live or something." I remembered the story even though I had only heard bits of it as Daniel was talking to our parents.
"He let me live," James said. "I guess there are brief instances of humanity in war. Myself and two other guys were captured and going to be taken as prisoners, but the guy recognized me and let us go. It was crazy being in that circumstance with someone who had been sitting across the table from me. We both looked into each other's eyes, and he let us go."