Joe laughed, even though their joke was ancient. He had started it the first time they’d
discussed religion, using it to stop Nick’s prodding. Nick took the hint and quit trying
outwardly to get Joe into church, any church.
But he hadn’t quite given up. Someday Joe would need his friend to be a priest, just as
Nick had needed a friend to shake him free from the loneliness of that first year on the island.
The game kept them both in line. Domino: lord and master. God above, dog below.
They threw their tiles quickly and were halfway done with the first game before Flora
appeared with beers for them. Nick smiled at Joe’s wife. He liked her, even though he still
didn’t know her well after all these years. She was a quiet woman, the good island wife who
ran an efficient household and had raised their two children with devout dignity. She balanced
Joe, prone to diatribes against organized religion, by making the rounds of all the island
churches. Nick couldn’t tell which religion she favored, but he always enjoyed seeing her
round, radiant face in his mostly Haitian congregation. Few of the native islanders were
Catholic.
Nick took his beer. “You’re all dressed up, Flora. What’s the occasion?”
“I’m going to the First Baptist. I’ll be back soon.” She kissed Joe’s cheek, and he
turned his face to catch her by surprise with a full-on kiss. When they separated, she ducked
her head and gave a shy glance at Nick. “Nice to see you, Father.”
Joe watched her leave, gazing for so long that Nick cleared his throat for attention. “It’s
your turn.” The game resumed. “What’s going on at First Baptist? This isn’t their prayer
meeting day.”
Joe swigged his beer before answering. “Memorial service. Her husband died, so they
thought it would be nice.”
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