

### G E N E

### T H E R A P Y

Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?

### L A N N Y S M I T H

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Smashwords Edition

Gene Therapy

Copyright 2015 by Lanny Smith

Cover Design by _Laura Shinn Designs_

http://LauraShinn.yolasite.com

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher except as provided by USA copyright law.

Library of Congress Control Number:

ISBN: 9781310523922

This novella is a work of fiction. Names, descriptions, entities, businesses, organizations and incidents included in the story are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, entities and events is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

This novella is for Him. I hope He approves of it.

Secondly, I want to thank my wife and my family for putting up with me as I worked on this story. I truly appreciate your patience and support!

Raves to the wonderful people who helped me get this completed, published and into the hands of those who might benefit from it. I would specifically like to acknowledge Emily Carmain. Her proofreading and editorial skills are awesome! Thanks also to Laura Shinn for her wonderful cover and advice.

This story is for "marrieds" and couples who have struggled and _are_ struggling in their relationships. This story might bring to light any _explosive_ issues before they go "nuclear."

If you and your significant other should ever find yourself in a similar situation, please give love a second chance—because you were never made to quit!

LANNY SMITH

— Jacksonville, Florida

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue

About the Author

Prologue

The Mendez Home (1990)

Another battle zone at the Mendez home—tonight they were at it again! Verbal bombs flew all over the place. Eight-year-old Ali Mendez jumped up from her place at the table and scurried to her hideaway behind the stairs. Her parents were bickering fiercely and she couldn't take it anymore. She covered her ears to block out the yelling. She didn't want to hear _any_ of it. Hearing would lead to listening. Listening might get her thinking: Thinking about _choosing_ —one over the other—something she could never bring herself to do. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her sleeve.

"Please, _please_ stop," she whispered repeatedly. Ali hoped that saying it might actually cause them to stop. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. She would chant this over and over when she was in her safe place but she could never ask this directly of her parents.

Ali didn't really know why they were arguing. She only heard lots of mean words and phrases such as, "liar," or "you're a loser," "just stop it" or "it's your fault!"

These conflicts were a nightly ritual at the Mendez home. It generally started just before dinner. Ali knew the routine well. She could always sense when another bout was coming on. Their words started off pleasant enough, then changed in tone, frequency, and eventually became cruel. The conversation would inevitably devolve into a shouting match. This steady back and forth usually didn't last very long, but the pattern was the same—and the shouts _always_ escalated. Ultimately, one or both parents would leave the room.

Ali did her best to endure these skirmishes, waiting for that "walk away" moment. But on most occasions, she didn't walk away—she ran from the dining room. She figured that if she stayed hidden at her safe place behind the stairs or in her room for a spell, then the end would be in sight. They'd get tired and that would be her cue. The challenge was to find something to do to pass the time, and to drown out the noise. If they kept at it, she would abandon her safe place and sneak up to her room. She would monitor the sounds of the arguments from there. If things died down, she would sneak back down to the living room and turn on the television set.

Television shows were welcome distractions. She preferred comedies and family shows. Sometimes the programs she watched had characters who argued. These characters, for the most part, eventually worked things out, especially as the show came to a close. It seemed amazing that many disputes could be ironed out in a half-hour or hour time period. The arguments between the television characters never mattered to Ali. She knew what to expect by the end of the show.

Ali especially enjoyed slapstick comedy. When someone stumbled or accidentally bumped into someone else, it never failed to make her laugh. And when she heard someone drag out some really dumb phrase like " _one...more...time_ ," that always tickled her funny bone.

Sometimes one parent would join her—sometimes both. At times, she feared that her mom and dad would pick up tips from the television characters as they argued. If the living room remained quiet, that would be a good sign. The longer the silence, the better—for all of them. It would be as if nothing had ever happened earlier that evening. Television show arguments were acceptable; a live performance in their home was not!

Tonight, she noticed that the shouts had diminished. Her parents were winding down for the evening. She got up from the safety of her hideaway. Ali's plan was to creep up to her bedroom to give them just a few extra moments for good measure. She would check on them from her room by leaving her door ajar and when the time was right, she'd come back down. She knew how to play this game well.

She wiped her eyes again. As she headed to her room, she heard one more round of hurtful words that caused her to freeze. Tonight was different. These were different words bandied about—words she had never heard before.

"I'm _tired_ of living like this!"

" _Whaatt?_ What do you mean—what are you trying to say?"

There was another lull in the shouting. Ali could always expect to hear one final jab from either of them after a lull. This time there were no follow-up shouts. She strained to listen and the silence confirmed it.

_Finally!_ she thought. Her ominous feeling was just a mild panic attack. She had imagined the worst and it never happened!

Now they could be a real family for the rest of the night. Ali thought it best to give them some extra cool-down time because of those awful new words and _then_ it would be television time. And the program would have to be a comedy—no dramas tonight. She had this!

_Yes, that's a good thing_ —it would be hard to yell if you're too busy laughing!

Ali stayed in her room until the last possible moment. At the proper time, she almost tiptoed from her room, came down and carried on with her routine.

Then it started again.

"I _can't_ do this anymore... I'm leaving! I'm going to my sister's house."

Ali stopped again—her heart was pounding. They were still shouting but their squabbling had never ended like this. What was going on? What was this talk about leaving? This was totally out of the ordinary.

"You're leaving? You're just gonna walk out on me—on _us_?"

"You know this has been coming for a while! You're not happy, I'm certainly not happy...and Ali—"

"Don't you dare bring _her_ into this! You're just looking for a way out. Oh yeah, 'When the going gets tough, the tough really do get going!' You're just gonna run away?"

Enough! Ali couldn't take it anymore. She hurried back upstairs to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. It no longer mattered that she broke from her routine—and she certainly didn't care if they heard her slam the door. It was her fault! She came down too early. If she had just given them a little more time, everything would have been fine.

The adults did react to the loud slam and looked up toward Ali's room.

"Now look what you've done. She heard—"

"Oh no, you don't! It's not my fault...oh, what's the use? You never listen! That's it! I'm leaving. And don't try to call me!"

Her _mother_ was furious _._ She turned, grabbed her bag and keys and walked briskly out of the house. When the father heard her slam the door behind her, he knew this was her way of adding an exclamation point to her final command.

He walked to the door, put his hand on the doorknob but didn't turn it. He heard his wife get into her car and start it up. She didn't drive away immediately. Maybe she was happy just sitting in the car. He was stunned. This was a first for the Mendez family. Their arguments never ended like this. Both parents would simply go to their separate corners of the house. They'd catch their breaths for a while and then come out to spend time in front of the TV with their daughter.

Tonight was another matter. She had actually left him and it was starting to sink in. He put his hands to his face in frustration, his mind racing.

_What did I do for her to act like this?_ he thought. Sure, he argued with her but that was the norm. _I was just defending myself._ Whatever it was, it was beyond him. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he simply didn't have a clue!

His face was sullen. He thought about running after her, but his window of opportunity had closed—he heard the car drive away.

"Oh, that's just great!" he angrily mumbled. "What are we supposed to do now?"

He looked upstairs and knew what he had to do. His priority now was Ali. He had to explain this to her. He could deal with his wife tomorrow. Perhaps things would look brighter in the morning—for all of them!

He gathered his thoughts and rehearsed a few lines.

_Aliana, Mama had to go out for a while_ , he thought.

No, he couldn't say that—his daughter was not oblivious to what had been happening. He started over and also reminded himself to not use her real name. They only called her Aliana to convey authority or when she was on the verge of being punished. She wasn't the one in trouble—she was an innocent!

_Ali, Mama has been under a lot of pressure_... he thought again. _Well, haven't we all?_ No, that sounded silly!

"Ali, I know you heard Mama leave tonight. Don't worry—she'll come back!" he whispered, but doubted that he could convince his bright little girl of that likelihood.

He considered other possible explanations and then decided to go with just the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help him God—just like he'd heard on that television courtroom drama. Ali was young but she had to know. She deserved to know what was happening.

He reminded himself not to speak badly of her mother, especially tonight. Regardless of the explanation he offered, he decided to give it his best shot. He still wondered how he was going to get around, or at least down-play, the hurtful words exchanged tonight. Ali had no doubt heard them—heck, the neighbors probably heard them too!

He slowly climbed the stairs and stopped at Ali's bedroom door. He always knocked softly, whether it was locked or not. He knocked but heard nothing. He knocked again.

"Go away," she softly responded.

"Ali, please let me come in. I need to talk to you!"

"No, Daddy—I just want to be alone."

Hearing this, he knew it was time to be firm.

" _Aliana_! Open this door right now, young lady!"

He started counting loudly from one to ten but heard the lock click from the inside before he got to seven. He slowly opened the door and entered her room.

Ali plopped herself back on her bed and looked away from him, unwilling to talk. Her father took a moment and just came out with it.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that, Ali. It was... uh, my fault. I should have..."

"Is she coming back?" Ali interrupted, slightly pleading as if her father had the power to make it happen.

"I-I don't know, honey. I hope so," he replied softly.

Wrong answer! Ali quickly faced him. He was startled at the sight of her demeanor. Her face was beet-red with anger.

"Well, I don't want her to come back. I _hate_ her!"

"Aliana, don't say that. She—"

This time Ali would not be as restrained as before. She stood up to her father.

"I _hate_ her! I never want her to come back—ever!"

"You don't mean that, sweetheart!" he answered. His resolve was weakening. She was plenty feisty for an eight-year-old.

Ali glared at him. There would be no backing down. He should have tried harder not to let her mother leave.

He sighed. "Ali..."

"Go away!" she demanded.

He started to say something but held his tongue. There was no getting through to her tonight. He turned and finished with, "Goodnight Ali. I love you!"

Her father left the room and closed the door behind him.

Ali turned away from the door and tried to fight back the tears already streaming down her cheeks. She whispered a promise to herself. "I'll never be like her— _never_!"

Ali buried her face in the pillow. She began to sob and after a few minutes, she started to close her eyes. Perhaps some much-welcomed sleep would not only make her feel better but cause the Mendez crisis to improve by morning. She'd heard it said in church that "joy comes in the morning."

_It will all be better tomorrow_ , she thought. Her eyelids were getting heavy. They would make up.

She wouldn't have to choose between them—and... no, she was tired of thinking about it. No more tonight! She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 1

The Suarez Home (Present Day)

Ali Suarez was pacing the floor in her spacious living room. When the monotony became too much, she sat in her loveseat and alternately wrung her hands and massaged her temples. After a few moments, she popped back up and continued pacing. A number of voices were guiding her to say this or do that. She was still in shock about what she had witnessed earlier today. She frantically talked herself through a series of questions and answers, and wished that her cousin Maria was here to act as a sounding board.

She picked up her cell phone and started punching Maria's number but stopped. She had already exceeded her "too-much-information" limit. Maria couldn't solve all of her problems for her.

_How could he do this to me?_ she wondered. "I've been a good—no, a _great_ wife," she answered herself. Her mind was racing as she tried to come up with all the possible reasons to justify Raphael's behavior.

"I... just don't..." she whispered but was distracted by the sound of Raphael's car pulling into the driveway.

She gazed at the front door, wiped away any signs of tears and fluffed her hair. She had a last-minute thought to utter a quick prayer before he entered.

"God," she started softly, "if you're listening, I need answers. I need to know."

Ali paused to collect her thoughts but ended up rushing her prayer.

"I know what I saw today. Is this my fault? Please hear my prayer—please help us. I need to know: Does he still love me?"

The front door lock clicked and Raphael entered the house. He immediately made eye contact with Ali but stopped cold in his tracks. He closed the door without turning, collected himself and walked slowly over to her. He stopped directly in front of her and tried to kiss her cheek.

She said nothing and turned away. He had some explaining to do. He tried to begin but caught sight of her luggage in the corner. He realized that the events at this point in time had already been set in motion. Even though Raphael was confused and hurt, when Ali turned away from him he knew he had to forego the conversation's prelude.

"Ali, can we talk about this? I can explain! _Ali_? Are you listening to me?"

"What's there to explain?" she snapped. "Are you going to tell me that I imagined what I saw?"

Raphael groaned. It had been a long day. He was tired and didn't know where to begin. Despite what Ali had walked in on earlier at his office, he didn't have the strength to do this tonight. They had had similar discussions before but based on what happened today, things might go nuclear. He knew that Ali was angry— _hostile_. She deserved an explanation but he had to tread carefully.

"Raphie, I've been patient with you. First, it was too much of your time spent at the church, then the money situation and now this—I come to your office and find you _hugging_ some woman?"

"Aliana, please listen—" he pleaded.

"Don't ' _Aliana'_ me! I'm the injured party here!"

"Ali—I'm sorry. It's not what you think! Nothing happened, I promise you."

Raphael saw that Ali was willing to give him a moment. He took it as a gift and wasn't about to squander it.

"She attends our church. She didn't have an appointment but needed to talk to me about her husband. We didn't get very far into the conversation when she started to cry. Yes, I hugged her but I was only trying to make her feel better," he explained. "When I saw you, I tried to break away, planning to explain but you left so quickly—I didn't know what to do! These things happen—"

Ali shook her head in disbelief. "These things? _These_ _things_? Let me clear up a few things about _these things!"_

Raphael didn't appreciate her sarcasm but he wasn't about to pour gasoline onto the fire. She had to get it out. He acquiesced to her.

"I don't even know where to begin," she said, now flustered by her lack of clarity. She started over.

"First, you spend more time at the church than you do at home. Then, there's the money thing. We're tight enough as it is but I had to find out _through our bank_ that you returned half of your paycheck to the church. Why didn't you tell me? You could have come to me. Don't I have any say in the finances?"

Raphael ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated. He allowed his eyes to ask permission to speak. He interpreted her pause as a hopeful sign.

"Of course you do, Ali. I'm sorry—I know I should have talked to you about the money. I didn't want to worry you. I considered it an offering to the church. I was hoping the church might find a way to reimburse me later," he said and lowered his eyes. "I guess I just didn't

think—"

"No, you _didn't_ think! Well, the time and the money are not the real issues now—she is! You had no business touching her like that!"

"Touching her?" he asked. "It was just a hug!"

She stammered. "W-What if we had children? How would we ever explain...?" Ali caught herself and realized this scenario was a stretch. She regrouped. "Trust...is the issue! How can I ever trust you again?" she asked.

Raphael sighed again. He knew she was right about his time spent at the church and the finances. But she was dead wrong on one specific concern—the issue of trust.

"As God is my witness, I did nothing wrong today. I have _never_ cheated on you, Ali, and I never will!" he said, slowly but deliberately. "God will help us get past this and—"

Ali's anger escalated to rage. She now started to sound irrational to such a degree that Raphael thought she might... slap him?

"How will God help us, Raphie? Will he put you 'in touch' with another woman?" she shouted.

"That's not funny—or fair, Ali. I am a _pastor_! My job is to help the people in my congregation. I'm supposed to comfort them in tough times," he replied, hoping he was getting through.

"I admit that I never should have been alone with her in my office today—not to mention, hugging her."

Raphael knew he could only placate his wife with the truth. With an old counseling technique, he addressed her in a much calmer, soothing tone.

"Look, I understand why you're upset—I get it. And I take full responsibility for it," he conceded.

Ali's eyes widened at his statement.

"But, again, what you saw was not what it seemed. It was not a romantic thing in any way, shape or form. I'm telling you I did nothing improper..." he clarified.

Ali tried to interrupt him but he waved her off with a "let me finish" gesture.

"But I promise that I will never be alone again with women in my office. And, as to the money thing—" he started.

"Did you just say 'women'?" she challenged, angered by his use of this word. "There've been others?"

" _What_? What are you talking about?" Raphael asked, completely confused now. They paused again, possibly to prepare for round two or to just catch a breath. Ali broke the silence.

This time, it was _her_ tone that had softened. "Raphie..."

Raphael braced himself. Based on previous "discussions" with Ali, he knew that when she used this particular tactic that the other shoe was about to drop. He prepared himself for the worst.

"I-I think we need some time... _apart_."

Raphael was astonished. He shook his head trying to think of something to say. He lifted his arms in frustration, took a deep breath but said nothing. He chose not to antagonize her further so he bowed his head as if to pray.

"Oh, _puleease_ , don't start now! You know this moment has been coming!" said Ali.

Raphael looked up and met her eyes. Ali _was_ acting irrational but he didn't know how to get through to her. It was like a scene from a television drama, and his desperation was showing.

"No, Ali...we don't have to do this. Listen, I'll get Robert to take over the services for a few weeks. We can get away and—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Ali tilted her head, a familiar sign that her decision had been made. She again reminded him of previous instances and the after-the-fact arguments. Raphael tried to counter with more apologies but to no avail. Ali then played her strongest card to fortify her position.

"Raphie, do you remember what I asked of you just before our wedding day?"

He nodded. He knew what was coming—but remained silent.

"I asked for your total and complete honesty with me at all times. To me, that meant full disclosure, no half-truths... no secrets." Ali paused again to better drive home her point. "I can deal with a pastor's low pay, the problems at the church, almost anything—except the _lies_!"

Raphael was about to say something when the telephone rang. This was a welcome reprieve. Ali picked up the receiver, checked the caller ID and didn't bother to greet the caller. It was someone from the church office. She cast a long, piercing glare at Raphael and handed him the receiver.

Raphael took the receiver and tried to act pleasant. Ali faintly heard a woman's voice and she stepped away in a huff, an action not wasted on him. He cut the conversation short and hung up.

"Was that your significant other?" she chided, again in that biting tone.

Raphael was frantic. Where were the words of comfort when he needed them?

"Please don't do this, Ali. Let's pray about it—"

"No, _you_ pray—I've prayed enough! I'll be at Maria's house. And don't try to call me!" she commanded.

Raphael's mind was flooding with this thought, that thought. Why was she being so unreasonable? Did she need medical help? Maybe his pastoral duties did take up too much of his time—but to the point of neglecting her? Ali once said that he was too much of a people-pleaser and he thought about it. No, he didn't pastor a church to be a people-pleaser.

Before she actually walked out the door, he made one last attempt to change her mind. He still believed in her to make the right decision.

"Aliana—we made a vow!" he begged. He followed with his most forceful effort of the night. "You can't just give up on us!"

Ali stopped at the door, her hand brushing against the doorknob. She looked down at the floor and took a deep breath. Perhaps something he said, and the way he said it, did get through to her.

He was optimistic when she turned to meet his eyes. With a quiet voice and a faraway look, she replied, "Well, actually, I can just _give up_ —I guess it's in my genes."

She ended her part in this clash with a possible solution.

"I _will_ do one thing for you, Raphie: if God answers my prayer, if He _really_ answers it, I'll come back," she replied with a hopeful expression.

Raphael was encouraged by her statement. He had to know more.

"Ali, what do you mean? What prayer? Please..."

She picked up her bag, opened the door and left, slamming the door behind her. Raphael heard her climb into her car and start it up. He slowly walked to the window and looked through the blinds to confirm it. He sighed, knowing that he had done all he could. He dropped to his knees next to the couch—and prayed.

"God, I really messed up," he whispered. "I've let her down." He thought of her last words. "I don't know what she asked of you but please help us. Please meet her where she is—and bring her back to me!"

That was all he could muster. All her points, all the arguments now felt like a ton of bricks. He punched the cushions on the couch and clenched one of them tightly. He buried his face in that same cushion and started to weep.

Chapter 2

Ali was almost daring Raphael to follow her out of the house. She waited a moment but in her mind, he wasn't gonna do what he was supposed to do. She decided to leave. As she drove away, she called her cousin Maria on her cell phone. Maria immediately picked up since she had been expecting her cousin's call.

"Ali, how are you? How did it go?" she asked.

Ali was slow to answer. She didn't want to sound bitter.

"It went just like I... h-he didn't put up much of a fight," she angrily replied.

Maria was doubtful that was truly the case, but she said nothing directly about it. She tried to reassure Ali that a temporary break was called for and that things usually worked out for the best. Given Ali's present emotional state, she probably wouldn't buy into Maria's opinion anyway.

"Why can't men be honest?" Ali asked.

"Is it possible that he _believes_ he's being honest? He probably didn't want to upset you..." Maria suggested.

"Any more than I already was?" asked Ali. "You of all people should know why this is such a problem for me!"

Maria knew. She knew the whole story about Ali's childhood—that her mother had walked out on her father—and Ali. Maria had always tried to be a good listener when it came to Ali's childhood history.

"I hated her for doing that to my dad. I later promised myself that I would never treat my husband like that," Ali vented.

Her cousin sounded sympathetic, but Ali thought she heard an almost inaudible yawn. Maria was an intelligent, single, gorgeous young woman. She was also a tad self-centered. Ali realized her cousin did _not_ want to spend a great deal of time on this crisis tonight. Maria probably thought it would blow over by tomorrow.

"Well, if there's no honesty in a relationship, how can there be trust? Or should it be the other way around—did I say that right?" asked Maria, slightly flustered.

Ali tried to follow her cousin's questions. Maria changed the subject.

"Ali, I've got an idea. That comedy club, Bandanna's, is right on the way over here. Let's go there. We'll have a few drinks, a few laughs and we'll relax. It'll give us a chance to put things into perspective."

Ali looked at her cell phone in disbelief.

"Maria, I just left my husband—and you want to take me to some comedy club?" asked Ali, incredulously.

"It'll help to take your mind off things," said Maria. "Need I remind you of the reasons you left him?"

Maria had a point. All in all, it had been a very tense day for the Suarez family. Depressing.

_Bandanna's?_ Ali thought. _That dive?_ "I-I don't think so, Maria. I'm tired! I wouldn't be good company anyway."

"Listen, I'll be good enough company for both of us. Meet me there in ten. You'll have fun, and—"

"Don't go there, Maria, don't say it!" Ali interrupted, her anger flaring.

Maria paused.

"Okay, okay, it was just a thought!" she anxiously added.

Ali scoffed but gave the Bandanna's idea a second chance. She hadn't been to a bar in years but maybe she could use a few lighter moments. _Just for tonight_ , she thought, _how bad could it be?_ A _comedy club_? She wondered if God had ever visited a comedy club—or better yet, did God even have a sense of humor? He runs the universe. There couldn't be much to laugh about doing that job. Ali was sure that He wouldn't find anything funny about Ali's and Raphael's situation.

Then there was Maria. Ali was suspicious of her offer. Maria was like a sister—and Ali knew her well. There was bound to be an ulterior motive behind Maria's idea. She was probably hoping to connect with some guy at that club.

"Are you still there? Ali?" asked Maria.

"Just drinks, right? No men!" Ali reminded her cousin.

"No problem—we'll just have a few drinks, watch an act or two and leave," Maria answered. "I'll see you there in ten!"

The conversation ended with different reactions from the two women. Maria smiled, excited about the plan—and the possibility of running into _him_.

Ali frowned, concerned about the idea. Still, she decided to ignore that still small voice of her conscience as she drove to Bandanna's Comedy Club.

* * * * *

The women arrived simultaneously at the designated parking lot of the club. They parked near each other in a well-lit area for safety reasons. Both took a moment and applied some last-minute touches of makeup. Maria was humming an old love song; Ali was staring regretfully into the rearview mirror.

"God, what am I doing here?" she whispered, half-hoping that He would answer.

As she finished powdering her nose, she got out of her car, locked it and walked over to Maria's car. Maria immediately spied her cousin and they embraced. Ali felt like crying but suppressed the urge for now.

"Oh, my little Aliana, did you have a bad night?" Maria asked sympathetically. Ali curtly smiled in response to her question—knowing that Maria was just being Maria. She was also the only family member allowed to call Ali by her real name because Ali knew she was _never_ in trouble with her cousin.

"I guess I should thank you for the offer—maybe this little excursion will lighten my load," said Ali, smiling through the mist in her eyes.

Both women reacted to the sound of a few bikers pulling into the parking lot. They revved their engines before shutting them down. Ali appeared startled and Maria just smiled.

"Oh, it'll do more than that, girlfriend. You're about to have so much fun tonight, you'll feel fresh, new, like you've just been born again!"

Ali winced at her cousin's comment. She mumbled under her breath, "I've _already_ been born again" and felt a twinge of guilt.

Maria took her cousin's arm as they strolled to the club's entrance. A bouncer was managing a line of about fifteen people. When he spotted these two young goddesses coming his way, he quickly waved them to the front of the line. This line-jumping sight wasn't missed by those waiting to enter, and they made their complaints known.

As Ali and Maria approached the bouncer, he signaled for one of his hosts. The host checked the women out and nodded something in code to the bouncer. The bouncer smiled and gestured for them to follow the host. Again, there were more grumblings from those waiting in line, but some men were whistling and "whooping" at Ali and Maria, complimenting the bouncer's taste in women. The cousins glanced in the direction of the mild uproar, but hastily turned to enter the club.

* * * * *

Maria and Ali entered a dimly lit, moderately-sized facility dominated by a bar, a large stage and tables for the patrons. At first glance, it appeared the entire room could only accommodate about seventy-five to a hundred people. Any movement around the room was hindered by the number of tables and stools, as well as the customers who chose to stand. In short, it was a tight squeeze.

They were quickly greeted by another host and directed to their table. Three, maybe four spotlights were fixed upon a popular band on the stage. The sounds of this band pleasantly permeated the room. The music, a mix between country and rock, was well received by the audience.

Ali had to cover her nose to evade the undeniable smell of a musty room—one which might have experienced some water damage but was more likely a combination of cigarette smoke, stale perfume and sweat. They also had to weave their way through the crowd to dodge a number of people both sitting and standing, and in general, just taking up space. The majority of the hindrances were caused by single men crowding various tables with assorted drinks in their hands. Ali felt that some of the men were a little too close for comfort—her comfort. One guy accidentally—or conveniently—brushed up against her.

The host led them to a particular table. Maria strolled somewhat provocatively through the crowd wearing a confident, mildly seductive smile; Ali was more reserved. As Ali glanced around the darkened room, she was starting to feel grimy but was willing to give the club some time.

The host placed them at a table near the center front of the stage and politely seated them. A waitress quickly arrived and took their drink orders. She seemed genuinely pleasant, unlike the bouncer and the hosts. Ali scanned the room again and saw that the patrons were enjoying themselves. The two had obviously just missed the last comedy act. Perhaps it was the band performing now or the previous act, but the dynamics in the room suggested that Bandanna's Comedy Club was the fun place to be tonight.

On the downside, Ali couldn't help but notice a number of single guys staring at them. She started to feel uneasy about her observation.

"I don't know about this, Maria. Is this a 'pick-up' bar?"

Maria replied, "Will you chill out? Some of these guys might be checking us out, but don't worry about it." She looked around the room but she couldn't find that particular guy she was hoping to see.

"That's what I _am_ worried about," Ali countered. She was becoming concerned about this development and Maria took a moment to ease her cousin's mind again.

"Ali, we're here to have a good time—so relax!"

"Relax? That's easy for you to say," snapped Ali.

This remark struck an irritating chord with Maria.

"Why did you say that? Just because I don't have a husband and you do? Is that what you meant?" she challenged.

Ali knew she could have better phrased her comment. She tried again.

"No, that's not what I meant. Remember, I just _left_ my husband! I really don't have any business being here tonight!"

Maria immediately recanted. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said that," she said.

Ali lowered her eyes to avoid responding to her cousin. The waitress returned to the table with their drinks—providing a much-needed diversion. The two women simultaneously reached for the drinks and took a sip to relieve the tension.

"Look, like I said, we'll catch an act or two and then leave. We're not married to this place..." Maria said and quickly covered her lips with her fingers as if that would cause her last faux pas to have never been voiced.

Ali concluded that Maria was only trying to comfort her and let it slide. Maria still needed to work on her diplomacy skills. Ali recalled that while they were growing up, some teacher taught Maria that it was okay to speak her mind almost anytime—regardless of the consequences. Maria had mastered that particular skill all too well.

Ali looked around the room again and saw that they were still getting attention from guys situated in various sections of the club. She did nothing to encourage them and hoped they would keep their distance. She turned her attention to the stage and tried to enjoy the music. She was eager for her first time in this club to be her last.

Chapter 3

When the band finished their set, the audience showered them with a warm round of applause. An emcee known only as Jack came out onto the stage as the band members left. Jack was a little older than the typical emcee for a venue like this but he had an amiable demeanor. He wasn't a professional comedian but he could garner a few laughs. It was to his advantage if the audience had enjoyed a few drinks prior to his one-liners.

Ali and Maria were excited that a live comedy act was coming up—they just weren't prepared for the location or the brand of comedy to follow. They immediately sensed the intrusion of two large, muscular men at their table, one lurching over Ali. Maria recognized one of them as the regular she met the last time she visited. She tried to suppress a subtle smile when he made eye contact.

They did not ask for permission to sit. The men pulled their chairs and just grinned at these two young women as if they were entitled to be there. Their breath reeked of alcohol—the hard stuff. Even though Ali and Maria already had a round before them, one of them snapped his fingers for the waitress.

One of the two men actually wore a bandanna. Both had scraggly beards. They weren't entirely unattractive in a "bad boy" way but Ali was noticeably uncomfortable by their presence. Maria was more inviting and Ali could see that her reaction was not lost on the men. She glanced at her cousin and quickly determined that Maria wasn't going to act, so it was up to her. She was polite but direct.

"Hey, guys, thanks for the offer but we'd really like to be alone tonight. Rough day, you understand," she explained.

Maria flashed an annoyed squint at Ali. The uninvited "guests" caught her reaction and acted as if they had already won the first battle.

"Aw, c'mon, senorita, we're really a lot of fun. You just gotta get to know us," said one.

Ali frowned. "It's _senora_." She held up her ring finger to better get the point across. "Now if you don't mind..."

Maria started to jump in but Ali cut her off. The men looked at each other and chuckled.

"Please leave... or we'll call the manager," said Ali, in a firm manner.

Both men countered with hardened expressions to Ali, and then, almost in unison, they cackled at her threat. The waitress had now returned with a fresh round of drinks. Ali detected that this particular waitress didn't have fond feelings for these men.

"Too late—drinks are here! Now you have to let us stay," said the other man.

Ali now turned to Maria for support. Maria looked reluctant to push the matter but did so anyway. She touched the waitress' wrist to get her attention but was interrupted by the first man.

"Sweetheart," he said to the waitress, "do me a 'solid' and get the manager over here."

Ali and Maria were surprised by his request. The waitress scowled and left, apparently insulted by the man's condescending tone.

"The manager's a little busy," said the first man. "He's playing 'door guard' tonight because his regular guy called in sick. He's also one of our huntin' buds."

The men again cackled at the last part of his explanation and "high-fived" each other. Upon hearing this comment, Ali's hopes were deflated. Maria then motioned to her cousin.

"Ali, I need to freshen up. Will you join me?" Maria asked, innocently enough.

Ali was irked that Maria used her name in front of these strangers. She played along, excused herself and the two headed to the ladies' room. Maria glanced back at the intruders and caught a wink from the guy she had recognized. Both men seemed confident that tonight was going to be an interesting evening.

Once inside the ladies' room, Ali didn't waste time.

"What are you doing? You promised— _no men_!"

Maria tried to calm her down. "Will you relax for a minute?"

"If you tell me to relax one more time... you know I can't be seen talking to some... dude! What are you thinking?"

Maria turned her head to dodge Ali's glare. "Listen, they're not half bad...just a little—"

"Creepy, crude...scary?" Ali interrupted. "Are those the words you were looking for?"

"All I'm saying is let's give 'em some time. We're talking free drinks here and it's not even 'ladies' night. What's the worst that could happen?" Maria suggested innocently enough.

Ali didn't budge. She shook her head.

"No—absolutely not! Either you back me up or I'm outta here!" she said.

Maria got the message, pursing her lips tightly. Both women paused to collect themselves.

"Okay, okay! You know, sometimes you can really be a buzz-kill!" Maria said.

Ali frowned at her cousin and turned away. The women went through the motions of applying make-up to their faces and left the room in silence. When they returned to their table, the men seemed emboldened by their presence.

"Glad you're back—we were gettin' lonely!" cracked one man.

The other man added, "Do you know how many other little darlins' we had to turn away while you were gone?"

Ali scoffed at his question but tried to switch gears.

"Guys, I think we got off to a bad start. Can we start over?"

The men snapped to attention and couldn't hide their excitement. Unfortunately, Ali was just getting started.

"It was very sweet of you to join us and buy us drinks. We really do appreciate it. But we'd still rather be alone tonight. We've had an awful day and we're just not in the mood for company," explained Ali. Her eyes darted to Maria to reinforce her position.

This time, the men scowled. They both turned to Maria.

"Yeah, it's been fun," Maria added, and lowered her eyes, "but you'll have to leave. Can we take a rain check?"

"C'mon, little darlin'— _you_ don't really mean that. I was really hoping to spend some quality time with you—"

"She means it, and so do I," Ali insisted. "Now please go or—"

"Or what?" challenged the first man. "You just accepted our drinks, little lady. You're not trying to tease us or something, are you?"

Ali's temper started to flare. She looked around for their waitress, a manager or _anyone_ for help. Maria stood up from the table; Ali did as well.

"Let's go, Ali."

Ali lightly touched Maria's wrist to restrain her. They didn't deserve this treatment from these— _goons_! She wasn't going to accommodate her cousin at this point.

"No, we're not leaving— _they_ are!" Ali retorted.

At this, the two guys let out another guffaw at the same time. One even followed with a verbal jab.

"I knew I'd like you two. You almost had us goin' there," he said.

"Yeah, you got us good," said the other guy to Maria. He now took a threatening tone with the women. "So why don't you just sit down and let's have some fun!"

Ali's anger now turned to alarm and she started to tremble. When she saw a bouncer coming to their table, she let out a sigh of relief. Before she could speak, the bouncer interrupted her.

"I _know_ you ladies aren't trying to cause any trouble for my boys tonight... are you?" he inquired.

Ali was caught off guard by his question. Then it hit her! This guy was not just a bouncer. He was the manager and the hunting buddy of their unwanted guests. She looked around the room, again hoping that someone would come to their aid. She knew that the patrons adjacent to them were aware of what was happening but apparently didn't want to get involved.

The manager-bouncer looked at one of "his" guys in an exasperated way.

"C'mon, Tom, I didn't steer these two babes your way just to have them make a scene," he said.

"No problem, Pernell. They're gonna stay for the show," Tom replied, flashing a malicious grin at the women. "Aren't you?"

Chapter 4

The manager, Pernell, seemed relieved that Tom had things under control. He then turned to Ali and Maria, grinning at their expressions.

"You ladies should consider yourselves lucky," he bragged. "You're in good hands with Tom and Mac." He waited, looking for a reaction. Not getting the response he wanted, he changed his tone. "Now, sit down! If I have to come back here because of you two, I'll—"

"Is there a problem, ladies?"

Ali and Maria turned to the sound of a man's voice behind them. A thin, handsome young man, no taller than Pernell, wearing red suspenders and a colorful bowtie, was the culprit. Pernell, Tom and Mac craned their necks to see him, sized him up and exchanged smirks. Pernell was surprised that anyone would dare interrupt him, especially in his own club. Still, the other two waited on him to make the next move.

Ali guessed that the new guy would probably be of little help. She welcomed the relief from the tension but still subconsciously rolled her eyes. Pernell directed an "ahem" to the women and they slowly sat back down. The manager shifted to bouncer mode and then gave the new guy his full attention.

The young man didn't back up when Pernell confronted him—in fact, he took a step closer to the table. Tom and Mac quickly stood up. Ali feared that this poor guy was about to get his lights punched out. She appreciated his interruption but she had to step in.

"Uh, we're okay," she said softly. "It's just a little misunderstanding."

The new guy stood his ground.

"You heard the lady, little man. What she meant is that you can leave now!" said Mac.

"Easy, Mac," said Pernell. "This guy's our next act."

The men looked in disbelief at Pernell. They directed their attention back to the man.

Pernell snapped, "Well, what are you waiting for? Don't you think it's time you got on up there, _Guy_?"

The man lingered. Ali didn't know what to think. He definitely must not have been from around these parts because most everyone knew of Pernell's roughneck reputation. Pernell had even been captured on the local news, wrestling with the police for being too "overbearing" with some of his patrons. His ensuing arrest by those same officers reinforced his tough-guy image in the community.

"Yeah, I guess I should, but only if you're okay," he replied. Ali and Maria looked tentatively at him but didn't respond. "Oh, my name isn't Guy, it's _Gene_ ," he announced before one of the three bullies could get a word in.

The three men snickered at his comment. "Sorry... _Gene_ ," replied Pernell.

Tom had to say it. " _Jean?_ J-E-A-N? That's a girl's name. What was your mama thinkin', boy?"

The _guy_ named Gene didn't appear bothered by Tom's insult, but he didn't let it pass either. "It's short for 'Eugene.' I go by 'Gene,'" he clarified.

Pernell, Tom and Mac again cackled at his explanation.

"Well, _Eugene_ , maybe you oughta get up on that stage— _and get the heck outta our faces_!" suggested Tom, rather forcefully.

Gene never lowered his eyes. He took a few seconds and turned to Pernell, clearly the ringleader, regardless of how loud the other two might have barked. Ali and Maria were still quiet, wondering how this little drama might play out.

"Uh, sure, I'd be glad to go. But first, may I have a word with you three, in private?" he asked, pointing to them for emphasis.

Tom mimicked Gene by raising his voice from bass to an outlandish soprano for effect. " _May I have a word with you three, in private?"_

The men let out a guffaw that caught the attention of the surrounding patrons. This "Gene" guy was gonna be just as fun as playing with the ladies.

"What, you wanna _talk_ to us? Is that what you're sayin?" asked Mac.

"No, that's what I'm _asking_!" replied Gene.

Pernell made a move toward the bar's entrance, as though he needed to keep an eye out on his line, but turned back to stay a few minutes longer. Mac and Tom scoffed at Gene's remark and exchanged a belligerent glance.

"Do _Euuu_ really want to do this _, Geeene_?" Tom snickered.

Mac said, "That was a little weak, brah." Tom frowned and tried to play it off.

Gene leaned in for a second and told the men that he'd only need a few minutes of their valuable time. He didn't want any trouble but insisted that Tom, Mac and Pernell join him out back of Bandanna's Comedy Club.

Ali was alarmed at his newest provocation. She was grateful for Gene's rescue but he was asking for it. She had to end this conflict now but just didn't know what to say. She sensed that Gene knew what was going through her mind. He gestured to her and Maria, trying to ease their apprehension. The bullies were waiting on his next move and grunted like chimpanzees. Instead of backing away, Gene pointed to his watch and raised his voice.

"Well, let's go, girly-boys. I don't have all night!" he declared. He then clicked his tongue as a show of defiance. That did the trick. Mac raised a fist as if to hit Gene right then but was quickly halted by Pernell. Tom also reached out to grab him but stopped when Pernell again intervened.

"Not _here_ —take it out back!" commanded Pernell, in a low voice.

Gene cast a "gotcha" look at the three, and snapped his thumbs along his suspenders to further egg them on. All four turned toward the back door of the club. Tom looked back to Ali and Maria and reminded them to stay put—or else!

Pernell followed up Tom's command and signaled another bouncer to keep an eye on the women. Gene set the pace, moving slowly to the back door. The three bruisers accompanied him without making a scene. Tom claimed first crack at Gene as they were leaving. The other two kept in step—ready to punish this strange young man. All four eventually disappeared into the dark hallway leading to the back exit.

* * * * *

Ali had her fingers to her lips, visibly distressed. She immediately whispered to Maria to call the police. Maria nervously shook her head.

"I left my phone in the car. I wasn't planning to call _anyone_ tonight," said Maria. "Let's use yours!"

Ali opened her purse and began to search for her phone but couldn't find it. She looked up and gasped, wondering why she would have left her phone in the car. Most women usually carried their phones everywhere they went and she was no exception. Ali was never thrilled with the idea of visiting this club in the first place—surely she would have brought it with her. The fact that she and Maria did not have their phones in their possession now seemed more like an eerie occurrence than a simple mistake.

"Let's just leave, okay? Now's our chance. That other bouncer has his hands full," Maria suggested.

Both women looked in the last known direction of the second bouncer and saw that he was indeed busy—flirting with some ladies. It was logical to try but Ali had a problem with Maria's idea.

"We can't just leave! That guy stuck his neck out for us when everyone else was ignoring us," said Ali. "He's gonna get hurt by those thugs!"

Maria hesitated a moment and then motioned for their waitress. Ali caught her drift and smiled.

"Good idea," she said. "I didn't sense a whole lotta love coming from her for them."

Maria smiled at Ali's praise but her expression changed just as quickly as it appeared. She peered in the direction of the darkened hallway leading to the back exit from the club. Maria's jaw dropped in astonishment. Ali noticed her cousin's expression and followed her eyes in the direction of the corridor.

"Oh, my gosh," she uttered.

Maria was speechless. Ali tried to process what she was seeing.

A lone figure emerged from the dark corridor. It was that comedian guy— _Gene_!

Chapter 5

Gene stepped out from the darkened hallway into the dimly lit room of the comedy club. The burly "girly-boys" were nowhere in sight. Gene appeared unscathed as he stepped into what loosely might be called the limelight. Both women watched him adjust his suspenders and nonchalantly straighten his bow tie, as if he was a super-spy who had just single-handedly dispatched a few enemy agents. He ran his fingers through his hair and began to search the room for the women.

When he spotted Ali and Maria, he confidently strode to their table and asked for permission to sit. The women didn't—or couldn't—answer. Gene took their silence as approval, and joined them.

Astounded, they just stared at him. After a moment, Gene broke the silence.

"I hope my little disagreement with those bullies didn't ruin your evening," he said.

Ali's heart rate was understandably faster than normal, and she knew Maria's must be too, but both women remained silent. A few seconds later, Ali started to speak, but before she could say anything Gene interrupted.

"I'm up next. I'd really appreciate it if you'd stick around and catch my act. I've been told that I'm pretty decent."

Maria dismissed his statement. "What happened back there?"

Gene acted surprised, as if her question really deserved an answer. He thought of how best to reply and said, "Oh, _that_! It was nothing... really!" He slowly turned his chair to face the stage, readying himself to be called up as the next act. He looked back at them for a moment with an "anything else?" expression.

The ladies continued to gawk at him, clearly expecting a better explanation.

Ali persisted. "What _happened_ back there?"

He took a deep breath before answering. "Well, if you must know, I thought they behaved rather badly. I asked myself, 'Why would they be so disrespectful to two such lovely women?' Then it hit me—it was so obvious. I couldn't believe I didn't see it earlier."

The women still waited for more. He sighed and then delivered the finishing touch.

"It was probably past their bedtime and they were cranky," he said. "Since they were acting out, I sent them home to their mommies!"

His answer sounded so bizarre that it took a moment to sink in. Ali and Maria looked at each other and then let out nervous giggles. They shared an "is this guy for real?" moment.

Ali softly, and as eloquently as she could, asked him to explain himself. "You, uh, _what_?"

"No need to worry. They won't be coming back tonight," he answered, and then scanned the room. "You know, it's just about time for me to do my thing." He added what looked like an Elvis sneer when he said, "my thing." "You're gonna stick around and catch my act, right?"

The women turned to each other, not knowing what to say—and Maria always had a comeback of some kind. Within a couple of beats she said they were willing to stay only if he supplied a few more answers. Gene smiled and as soon as he began to say something, the sound of light applause interrupted him.

Jack, the emcee, had come back onstage. Gene turned to him, as did the women. They didn't quite know what to make of Gene's explanation, but for now they would go with the flow.

"Helloooo, Bandanna's!" shouted Jack. "Everybody havin' a good time?"

Another round of applause echoed throughout the room.

Encouraged, Jack continued. "Well, it's not over yet! Our next performer will absolutely blow your mind. Tonight is his very first time in our fair city and our club. Let's give up a warm Bandanna's welcome for the 'G-Man' himself, Mr. Gene Mann!"

Most of the patrons politely applauded. Gene stood up from the table and was immediately engulfed by the brilliance of the club spotlight.

He quickly leaned in close to the women and semi-shouted, "Please stay—it would really mean a lot to me!"

He then made his way to the stage. As he climbed the few stairs, he pretended to stumble after the last step. This sight gag elicited the desired effect from the audience. He recovered nicely and shook Jack's hand, relieving him of the microphone.

"Thank you, Jack!" he shouted confidently enough. He turned to the audience. When he took in the sea of faces, he froze like a deer caught in headlights. He heard Jack offstage, trying to encourage him by shouting "Go get 'em, kid!"

Gene quickly recovered from his stage fright moment. He jumped back in.

"Welcome..." he said, and tapped the mike to see if it was working. "Welcome to Bandanna's Comedy Club—where, uh, the only good bandanna is a _peeled_ bandanna. _Bada bing!_ How's it goin' tonight?"

The crowd groaned at his quip, especially at the "bada bing" part. Many reached for their drinks, thinking Gene was just another novice trying out new material. The bartender and the wait staff glanced up at him, smiled and returned to their duties.

"Before we get down to the serious stuff, I heard this really funny joke," snorted Gene. "It's a riot—you've really gotta hear it..."

Ali and Maria cringed at his gaffe. The audience wasn't so forgiving and didn't bother to hide their scorn. They'd heard this approach before and chalked it up to inexperienced comedians, desperate for laughs. This didn't stop Gene. He began to tell his joke anyway.

"A rabbi, a priest and a lawyer met one day for lunch..."

There was grumbling heard throughout the room. Someone shouted, "Been there, heard that! Give us something else."

Gene respectfully ignored the patron and continued.

"The rabbi had just watched an 'Animal Kingdom' episode on television. He described the vicious world of wild animals to his guests. He said that, in Africa, many animals had no idea that a lioness or two might be lurking in the tall grass just a few feet from their chosen prey—ready to pounce in a heartbeat. The rabbi asked his guests, 'Could it be that these situations are real or are they _edited_ to look real for the sake of entertainment?'"

Gene paused to gauge their interest. Ali and Maria, as well as the patrons, were listening, if only to hide their boredom. Gene took this as a positive sign and continued.

"The priest confessed that he didn't know. The lawyer said that he hadn't been keeping up with the 'Animal Kingdom' shows. The lawyer didn't want to seem like he was not in the know. Using his best lawyer-speak, he said he would research the matter and investigate all claims as to the accuracy of the show. The rabbi rolled his eyes and shot back with, 'Oy vey, says the shyster,' and was ready to change the subject. The priest laughed but the lawyer didn't appreciate the rabbi's remark. The lawyer took it a step further and then promised to exercise his 'due diligence' in researching not just the television production _but_ the actual behavior of wild animals."

The audience began to chat among themselves. Gene saw that he was losing them and tried to salvage his joke.

"Hey, these are his words, not mine!" He cleared his throat and spoke to those still listening to him.

"The lawyer then promised to present a legal brief about his findings to his friends—and he would only charge them half of his standard fee of $1,000 per hour for his opinion. Flashing a toothy grin, the lawyer then added that in truth, the closest he had ever been to wild animals was on a deep sea fishing trip."

Many in the crowd braced themselves for the punch line. Others were tuning him out.

"It was then that the _priest_ said, 'Well, I can absolve the sins of any lawyer—but I don't do sharks!' _Bada boom_!"

Gene started chuckling at his own joke. The audience laughed politely. Some looked to their friends and were shaking their heads. Gene was about to tell them he made that one up himself but judging from their less-than-enthusiastic response, he decided against it. He glanced at Ali and Maria to see if _they_ got it and their faces indicated they did, but it just wasn't funny. He paused a moment and turned his back to the crowd.

From offstage, Jack thought it odd that Gene would turn his back on the audience. When he saw that Gene lowered his head, closed his eyes and seemed to be talking to himself, Jack knew something was amiss.

"Uh-oh, this kid's goin' down!" he mumbled, wondering what he could do to help.

Maria asked Ali about something Gene had said. "Why does he say 'bada bing' and 'bada boom'? What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure," Ali answered, fixated on Gene. "I think it's an old-school thing."

The women reached for their drinks, as if a sip or two might cure his awful performance.

A few seconds later, Gene swung around and faced the audience with an exaggerated grin. He was ready to continue, but this time he appeared more confident, energetic. Ali and Maria placed their drinks on the table. Once again, he had their attention.

* * * * *

"Okay, clearly not my best work. Now you know why I'm here tonight _not_ as a stand-up comic," he announced.

The audience looked confused and chatted among themselves as if they were being prepped for another gag. After all, this _was_ a comedy club. Gene scanned many of the faces and knew he was back on target.

"So, now it's time for my _real_ act. There's a reason why they call me the 'G-Mann,'" he said and waited before explaining. "I work for the government!"

Gene then contorted his face and waved his hands about, adding an embellished " _woooooo_ " as if he was telling a ghost story.

He got a few chuckles throughout the room but also heard a few scoffs. Ali and Maria sipped their drinks again as they continued to watch him. Despite his terrible antics, they were secretly rooting for him.

"Here's what I'm sayin': I _know_ things, lots of things," he explained and waited for his statement to register with the audience. "I know top secret stuff that only you or a very close friend might know. For example, I can tell you what you're thinking right about now!"

Some turned their attention back to him, as if they were reliving that childhood game, "Tell me what I'm thinking!"

"You're thinking... _prove_ it! Am I right?" Gene asked, flashing his version of a geeky smile.

This question was met with a round of sarcastic applause. One man loudly yelled, "Duhhhh," and garnered a few laughs himself. Another replied, "You really don't want to know what I'm thinking." Gene grinned, unaffected by their remarks.

"Okay, here goes—ready? Raise your hand if any of you have ever met me before tonight!"

No one raised a hand. Many in the crowd glanced around, including Ali and Maria, but most were starting to ignore him. Gene pretended to be optimistic that hands would go up, and he tried to count any that he saw. He suckered the crowd with a look of disappointment.

"No hands! That can't be good," he said. "Well, actually, it is. May I have a volunteer, please?"

Not a lot of takers, but two people lifted their hands. Gene picked a man and waved him up to the stage.

The man stood up and made his way through the room with a subtle leer to various friends. He received a few pats on his back from some discerning patrons—they knew what he was planning. Gene may have been temporarily rejuvenated, but now his one-night gig at Bandanna's Comedy Club was about to be sabotaged!

Chapter 6

This volunteer was no different from Pernell, Tom and Mac. To him, Gene was just another hack so he was gonna help him crash and burn. He climbed onto the stage and positioned himself near Gene. This man even mastered the art of the "straight face"—maybe _he_ should have been the headliner, not Gene.

Once the man was on stage, Gene wasted little time. He now knew how best to perform his routine.

"Hey there, thanks for coming up. I'm Gene—can I get your name?"

The man pretended that he was going to rattle it off. It was all part of _his_ performance.

"Yeah, sure, it's... uh, _wait_! Don't you know it? You said you knew everything? You're the 'G-Mann,' right?" the man chuckled, waving his hands and mimicking Gene. " _Wooooooo!"_

The man smirked and many in the audience laughed.

Gene didn't seem disturbed by the man's attempt to upstage him. Ali thought she saw a sly smile form on his face as the audience laughed at him.

"Just checkin'... uh... _Terry!_ That's your name, right? Terry _?_ "

The man's smirk quickly disappeared.

"You don't have to answer that. The only thing that's important is that I know your name, Terry," said Gene.

The audience laughed louder this time at Gene's comment. Terry's face now displayed a hint of embarrassment. Ali and Maria chuckled—it seemed that Terry had just been played!

"Before we start, please remind our audience that, although _you_ probably know everyone in the room, _we_ have never met before. Can you do that for me, _Terrée_?" asked Gene, playfully adding a French-sounding accent to Terry's name.

Again, the audience chuckled. Terry was stunned and shook his head. "I think I'd remember meeting you. Uh, by the way, who told you my name?"

"Trade secret, my man, trade secret!" Gene grinned. "Terry, here's what I'd like to do—with your help of course. I'm gonna place my hand on your shoulder." He saw that Terry was a little nervous about that idea. "Don't worry, that's all I'm gonna do, I promise!"

The audience giggled again at Gene's crack. He continued, encouraged by their response, but not without shooting a subtle glance at Ali and Maria.

"I'm gonna tell you something that only _you_ would know. I'll try not to embarrass you—again!" Gene said, deliberately lowering his volume on the word "again."

And once again, there were chuckles heard throughout the room from his volume shift. "Are you good with that?"

Terry answered quickly with a tinge of bitterness. "Boy, it'll take a lot more than what you've got to shake _me_ up!"

"Uh, good to know, Terry," said Gene. He sensed it was time to ease off of Terry. "Ready to be mystified?"

"Mister- _what_?" asked Terry. His question suggested that either he hadn't been paying attention or that he didn't understand the meaning of the word. He tried to save face. "Okay, whatever!"

Gene nodded and then raised his hands to the audience. He asked the club guests to use their "quiet voices" in almost the same way that an elementary school teacher would ask of her students. More than half in the club cooperated and the room simmered down. Ali noticed that Gene was winning over the audience.

Gene gently placed his hand on Terry's shoulder and closed his eyes. When Terry saw this, he quickly flashed a contorted face to the audience for laughs but this time no one played along. Gene opened his eyes and then removed his hand, ready to give Terry his "report."

"Oh, you've been a naughty boy, eh, Terry?" chuckled Gene, waving his right index finger.

Terry looked skeptical but invited Gene to come out with it. Gene complied with a straight face.

"You haven't mailed in that special payment to the city yet, have you?"

Terry took a second to think about Gene's question.

"Special payment... city? What are you talkin' about?" asked Terry, wrinkling his forehead and staring at Gene. "Special payment for what?"

Gene changed his persona from a stage comic to a game show host.

"That payment for... _your speeding ticket last week_ —near the corner of Elm and Oak Streets! Let's hear it for Terry _!"_ shouted Gene, clapping as he grinned.

At first, the audience laughed more at Gene's antics than at his message. They now wanted to hear Terry's response. Terry took a moment to process what Gene said. The audience was on edge, waiting for Terry to speak. Their patience paid off as his face blushed a brighter shade of pink.

"Oh, my gosh... I completely forgot about that. I... uh, wait—how did _you_ know?"

It was now Gene's turn to feign a smirk with a cocky remark. "Well, Terry, this is what I do!"

Terry looked dumbfounded. Gene turned to the audience and they applauded. Ali and Maria were giggling in surprise. There certainly seemed to be more to this Gene guy than they previously thought.

"Thanks for your help, Terry," Gene closed. "You've been a good sport. And remember: driving fifty-five in a thirty-mile zone will get you every time. Please watch out for your neighbors—and don't be driving crazy on those streets!"

Terry said nothing. He immediately turned to leave—eager to get off the stage before this guy came out with something else.

"Let's give it up for Terry, ladies and gentlemen!" said Gene.

Ali and Maria were grinning as they applauded, and peeking around the room. The audience was just as impressed with their new friend as they were. Gene was delighted that the crowd had warmed to him. But even better, he now had Ali's and Maria's undivided attention.

* * * * *

Gene then asked for a second volunteer. This time, there were more than two hands in the air. He surveyed the room and zeroed in on a woman. He singled her out and asked her up to the stage. She made her way through the crowd and, like Terry, almost gave up her name. Gene stopped her before she let it slip.

"No, don't tell me—your name... is... _Judy_! Yeah, that's it... Judy. Thanks for coming up!"

The woman named Judy turned to the audience and beamed. She was an attractive woman in her mid-forties with a cheerful disposition. She had a light, pleasant "Dolly Parton" quality about her. Gene didn't sense that she had some hidden agenda—she just wanted to have fun. He went through his routine again for the benefit of the audience.

"No, I have never met you before, but I _would_ like to know how you knew my name," she said.

"Spooky, eh?" replied Gene, adding a few more antics for effect. "Okay, Judy, I have to ask: do you really want to do this?"

Judy snickered.

"Listen, sonny, if I can handle two husbands and four kids, I think I can handle you!" she replied, chuckling.

Gene blushed at her response and the audience laughed. Gene's expression said it all: this Bandanna's crowd wasn't afraid to speak their minds. He chalked it up as payback for being a little hard on Terry. No matter—he carried on and again faced the audience.

Like a maestro preparing to conduct his orchestra, he raised his hands, asking for quiet. This time, the noise level dropped considerably. Gene gently placed the palm of his hand on Judy's shoulder, closed his eyes and concentrated. The room was hushed. The regulars seemed to be studying him in order to gain insight about his "act."

Gene removed his hand from her shoulder and opened his eyes. Judy eagerly waited for whatever secret information he thought he had on her.

At first, it seemed as if Gene didn't want to share what he knew. He cast the audience a solemn look and then turned to Judy. She raised her arms as if to say, "Are you gonna tell us or not?" He took a deep breath but appeared to be struggling again. He then quickly announced:

"Congratulations, Judy!" Gene grinned as he reverted to his game show host persona.

Judy took a second, bewildered at his response. "Congratulations? What do you mean?" It then dawned on her what he was getting at. "Oh, no—don't you dare," she ordered, shaking her head as well. "Oh, no, you don't—"

"Oh, yes, I do!" interrupted Gene, with an impish grin.

Judy shot him a desperate gaze.

Gene knew what she was worried about, but plowed ahead anyway. "Judy has fantastic news for us." He hesitated again to drag out the tension, especially for Judy. Before she tried again to silence him, Gene came out with it.

"Judy is expecting..."

Judy put her hands to her face and screamed a high-pitched scream.

"No, Judy just got— _promoted_ —at her job, the Greenway Bank! Am I right or wrong?" he asked, whirling from the audience to her.

Judy almost screamed again when she heard Gene's report. It then sank in and she slowly dropped her hands, releasing a huge sigh of relief. After a speedy recovery, she answered.

"Yes, yes, I was! But how could you know that? I haven't even told my husband!"

"Well, he knows _now_! And he's sitting right... over...," Gene said, twirling his right index finger and taking his time to point her husband out, " _there!_ "

"Please stand up, Mr. Judy, or should I call you _Rick_?"

A man in the back timidly stood up at his table. A spotlight was now focused on him. The audience studied the man's face and collectively perceived that he was either part of the act—or genuinely surprised at Gene's call-out. He even dabbed his forehead with a napkin, possibly dreading the same thing Judy feared Gene might have announced. He quickly sat down.

The audience applauded, louder than before. Ali and Maria vigorously joined in on the applause. Gene turned to Judy and thanked her. Judy turned away, her face beet-red. She grinned and left the stage, knowing that she'd gotten more than she bargained for by coming up tonight!

"Bring it on for my very special guests tonight, Terry and Judy!" said Gene. "And thank you, Bandanna's! You've been a 'funtastic' audience!"

Jack rushed out to Gene and reluctantly took the microphone. This kid was on a roll.

"Put your hands together for the G-Mann himself, Gene Mann!" shouted Jack.

The audience responded with one more enthusiastic round of applause. Gene was delighted that they had given him a second chance—and they reaped the benefits for doing so. Knowing that he had a hit on his hands, Jack wasn't so quick to let Gene leave the stage.

"Isn't he terrific? I don't know about you, but there are some secrets I want to stay...secret!"

Gene shook his hand and did a contorted half-bow as if to leave. The crowd wasn't letting up with their applause. Jack played on their appreciation.

"But can he do it one more time? Whaddya say, G-Mann?"

Gene paused, wondering if he should go one more round. The audience was _still_ clapping. Some were whistling and others called for an encore—just one more demonstration! He looked over the audience and at his two new friends and was reassured by their reactions. He mumbled something to himself, smiled and turned to Jack. Gene took the microphone back and playfully stalled with his response.

"Well, I guess I can do it— _one... more... time_!" he said, in an off-key, goofy manner.

* * * * *

Ali wasn't sure if it was Gene's choice of words or the way he said them that caused her to gasp. She was visibly startled by his corny "one...more...time..." line, although she didn't know why. Perhaps it was an epiphany—something just clicked! Ali now realized without a doubt that there was much more to this quirky young man than she ever imagined. Somehow she knew that his act was not what it seemed. It was a prelude to something extraordinary—and he had some very specific answers just for _her_!

Chapter 7

When he asked for volunteers this time, almost every hand in the house went up. Gene surveyed the room, searching for his next victim. Some people, like children in a classroom, were waving their hands back and forth. He dragged out his selection with some witty banter, and playfully challenged the audience to test him this time with an extremely difficult secret. Gene neared the end of his search for the right volunteer—and found her!

This woman was seated at the bar with a man, presumably her husband. Both wore expressions that suggested their last few years had been hard—that life had worn them down. As she slowly raised her hand just above her eyes, Gene picked up on her crushed demeanor and knew she was the one.

He waved her up and, like a teacher with eyes in the back of his head, checked to see if Ali and Maria were paying attention. They were keenly focused on him—although they wondered why he was taking so long to choose his last volunteer.

Ali scrutinized his every move. This guy was a mystery. She initially thought he'd slip up and give something away. Detecting nothing out of the ordinary, she decided to just go with it. After all, he had now won over the Bandanna's audience—he held the attention of almost everyone in the room.

Gene motioned again for the woman to join him on the stage. She looked at her companion, and he allowed his eyes to encourage her. He helped her stand from her bar stool and she started her trek to the stage. From Ali's perspective, Gene was in no hurry. He wanted this particular woman on the stage.

When she arrived at the base of the stage, Jack helped her up the steps. The closer she came to Gene, the more he felt that she had been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. He also felt a hint of self-doubt, concerned that he would not be able to help her. She stopped at the same point as the others and said nothing.

They exchanged a longer-than-normal gaze. Gene turned his back to the audience for a moment as he had previously done. He then faced the audience again, and then the woman. This time, he did not smile. He knew what he could and could not share with the audience about her.

"Hello, uh... _Robin_. How are you doing?" he asked as a courtesy. This woman was someone not to be trifled with—she had an urgent need. Gene was not going to interact with her for the sake of entertainment.

When he heard Robin's name, the bartender stopped in his tracks and looked up at the stage. He then glanced back at the "husband", their eyes sharing a mutual concern. The husband nodded to him that all was well.

Robin was not surprised that Gene knew her name. She didn't respond, but did step closer to him—ready to get down to business. Gene decided to dispense with the small talk. There would be no prefaces or reassurances. He was no longer concerned if the crowd was impressed or not.

Gene gingerly placed his hand on her shoulder, secretly hoping he was not opening a Pandora's box. Her demeanor seemed promising, hopeful. He closed his eyes and concentrated. This time he mumbled a few inaudible words. There was absolute silence in the room. The audience didn't know what to make of his actions. He was behaving like a magician and they weren't going to miss his performance. Many leaned forward, straining to hear what he said.

Someone asked the bartender for a refill but he dismissed the patron. Even the wait staff ceased their duties to watch this encounter. All movement and conversations in the room were mysteriously suspended at this moment. After what seemed like an eternity, Gene finally opened his eyes and removed his hand from Robin's shoulder. Ali and Maria were again surprised—Gene was shedding a few tears. They looked at each other, wondering what was happening. His expression portrayed _sadness_! Could this have been an illusion—the result of the bright spotlights playing tricks on their eyes?

Robin was undeterred. She waited patiently for his report. Gene knew what had to be said. He quickly dabbed his eyes, faced the crowd and began to speak.

"Sorry, folks," his voice cracking, "but this revelation is for Robin's ears only."

Some minor grumbling was heard around the room but the audience respected their privacy. Ali and Maria were mesmerized by this interplay. All eyes were still fixated on the "Gene and Robin show."

Gene fumbled with the microphone to turn it off and stepped closer to Robin. He still muffled the mike as best he could and leaned in to her. He whispered something. By Maria's count, it must have been something special because this "reading" for Robin lasted at least a minute, possibly longer. Ali constantly shifted her eyes from Gene to Robin and back, hoping to grasp what was happening.

Silence. No one moved, no one could be heard chatting with their friends, no one hurried them along. Gene stopped whispering to Robin and waited. Suddenly, Robin's face conveyed something out of the ordinary. Her expressions of hopelessness and sadness morphed into surprise, happiness and _joy_! She also appeared woozy, as if she was about to faint.

The husband and the bartender shared an urgent glance. He got up from his stool and promptly started making his way to the stage.

Gene grabbed Robin's arm to steady her. She immediately embraced Gene and he held her for a moment, comforting her. She almost melted in his arms. The audience was now clamoring: _what is going on? What did he say to her?_ Robin slowly pulled away from Gene, knowing that her husband was rushing to her. She wiped her eyes, hugged her husband and the crowd quieted.

Ali, too, was moved by this poignant moment for good reason. She realized that Gene had embraced Robin as an act of comfort. She thought back to her earlier argument with Raphael. This on-stage moment served as a perfect illustration for her.

Ali now anticipated that something wonderful was about to happen.

Robin turned back to Gene, with tears in her eyes. She touched his hands in gratitude. Gene quickly took out a business card from his pocket and handed it to her husband. Gene whispered something like, "Call this number _tonight_ ," unaware that his mike was hot.

Robin started to turn away but not without whispering an emotional "I _knew_ you could...thank you, thank you" to Gene. Ali heard her voice breaking as she spoke. Gene solemnly pointed his index finger upward. Robin nodded, took her husband's hand and led him off stage. The husband appeared confused but followed his wife—especially when she was overheard saying, "Come on, honey, we've gotta go. We've got somewhere to be!"

Gene watched the couple leave the stage, faster than they had arrived. He tapped the microphone and realized it was hot. All eyes shifted back and forth from Gene to the couple. He then spoke softly into the microphone.

"Folks, let's give it up for Robin and _Hugh_ ," said Gene, his voice was breaking with emotion. "I think they're in for a wonderful surprise!"

As Robin and Hugh began to make their way back through the crowd to the front door, the bartender was the first to begin clapping. Ali and Maria quickly joined in, followed by the collective applause from everyone in the club. The audience didn't seem to know _why_ they were applauding—but the joy and sense of urgency on Robin's face was compelling.

Robin and Hugh turned back to Gene before leaving. Gene smiled, and again pointed his index finger upward. They waved back, grinned and left the room. Gene tenderly made one last statement into the microphone, minus the comedic antics.

"Thank you, Bandanna's Comedy Club. You've been awesome—please care for each other and _keep hope alive_!"

Still applauding, the sound level gradually grew into a thunderous standing ovation, directed at Gene! Jack quickly came back out, somewhat bedazzled and took the microphone. This time, he knew that Gene was determined to leave the stage.

"The G-Mann, ladies and gentlemen—let's hear it for our new rock star of comedy, Mr. Gene Mann!"

Gene meekly waved to the audience and proceeded to leave the stage. His face looked pale, as if he'd been drained of emotion. He saw that Ali and Maria were still standing and waving him over to them. He headed to their table to join them.

The applause was starting to die down but the bartender let out a few extra cheers in Gene's direction. Once again, Gene smiled and gestured to the bartender the same way he had earlier done on stage. Gene also observed that the bartender dabbed his eyes with a napkin before returning to his duties.

Chapter 8

That popular country-rock band took the stage again to crank out more tunes for the audience. They purposely played on the softer side, with a bit of a cappella, so that the patrons could carry on their conversations without raising their voices. Gene was the last comedy act for the evening so he could now relax.

A round of complimentary drinks arrived at the women's table just after Gene joined them. They saw that he was not reveling in the attention, or enamored by the approval. He acted like he wanted to be somewhere else. Regardless, the cousins welcomed him and tried to introduce themselves. Gene put his hand up, suggesting that he already knew their names. They smiled and decided to play along. Logic suggested that there had to be some "trick" to his routine but Ali couldn't get over that eerie feeling that something more was happening tonight. She couldn't wait to question him, and had to start with the obvious one.

"That was awesome! What did you say to her?"

Gene thought for a half-second. "That's classified, Ali. If I told you, I'd have to kill— _Maria_!"

Ali smiled. That one wasn't half bad.

"See, he just did it again!" said Maria. "How did you know our names?"

Gene lightly placed his hands to his face. He seemed tired but decided to reveal something to the women.

"Well, maybe I do have a little help. Wanna guess?" he asked.

"Gosh, I wouldn't know where to start," said Ali. "Maybe you checked out the crowd earlier tonight?"

"No, couldn't have done that. Too obvious!" he replied.

Maria had two ideas. "You and that bartender seem chummy—and he's probably here every night—listening to people and their problems. He canvassed the crowd for you, didn't he?"

Gene nodded his head no. Maria slightly frowned. She tried again.

"Then, you're like an undercover cop—you're wired and you pick up tidbits of information. And you probably have an incredible memory," said Maria. "You remember the smallest details about people."

"Good try, Maria. Actually, I'm a little thick-headed," he answered. "I do see and hear things but my memory's not what it used to be."

"So that's how you do it!" said Maria.

Ali was skeptical. "No, there's more to it than that, right?"

Gene smiled. "Looks like I'm not the _only_ one who picks up on things quickly."

Maria glared impatiently at him. "Well, are you gonna tell us or not?"

Gene hesitated but decided it might be time.

"You really want to know?" he asked, grinning as a thought came to his mind. "What was that line from some old movie? 'Do you think you can handle it—the _truth_?'"

The women smiled. This was starting to be fun. They said nothing and kept their eyes fixed on him.

Gene's eyes lit up. "Okay, here goes... brace yourselves!"

"Good grief! You're stalling—will you just tell us already?" asked Maria.

Gene sighed, hiding his grin. He knew the suspense was killing them but he enjoyed aggravating them. He shook his head, indicating he was ready to reveal his secret.

"Okay, but remember, you brought this on yourselves."

This time, the women didn't bat an eyelash. They expected him to drag it out one last time.

Gene observed their deadpan expressions and decided that enough was enough. He leaned in, as if he was ready to share an earth-shattering piece of information.

"I do have help... from _above_!" he said with a straight face. He pointed upward with his right index finger.

Ali and Maria glanced at each other but held their best poker faces. They knew that Gene was a master of misdirection.

"I knew it," announced Maria. "You did that same finger-pointing thing on stage. He's got a spotter upstairs—somewhere!" She looked around to confirm her suspicions but was quickly disappointed. She spied a small office on the second floor of the building but that was all. There was no other place for someone to hide.

Gene took it a step further. "No, my help comes from a much higher level than someone hiding in that office, Maria."

"You have someone planted on the roof? Someone using a small telescope through a peephole with a hidden mike?" she asked, and then tapped her forehead with her fingers in disbelief at such an absurd suggestion.

Ali got it. "You have help from _God_? Is that what you're telling us?"

Gene didn't say anything. He just stared intently into her eyes.

"What does He do, whisper in your ear, like you did with her?"

Gene was ready to help her but was careful with his choice of words. There were rules to be followed.

"Would that be so hard to believe?" he asked, but wouldn't give her a chance to answer. "He tells me what I need to say and when I need to say it. The rest depends on the person who listens to me!"

Ali's cynicism was showing. "Really? How do you know if He'll answer you?"

He turned his head to Maria and back to Ali. "Oh, I know all right. It's a little thing called— _faith_!"

"Faith? Now, that's a little hard to believe," said Maria, catching herself again just after she said it.

Gene countered. "I hear you, Maria. Maybe that's an unwanted characteristic of faith—you know, the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen!"

Ali asked, "So what happens if your faith lets you down—and you get it wrong?"

Gene paused before answering. "Well, you saw firsthand tonight what happened when I tried to do things on my own."

"What do you mean?" asked Maria.

"Remember that joke I told—the lawyer thing?" he asked.

The women smiled. That was an awful attempt at humor.

"I made it up myself. I was really proud of that joke—I thought it was kinda funny," he explained. "But that was me, acting on my own—without praying about it. You saw what happened—it bombed!"

"Yes, it did," added Maria. "On an _atomic_ level!"

This time, Gene reacted to Maria's callousness, and his voice confirmed it. "Thanks, Maria—I get it!"

"So why did you try it?" asked Ali.

Gene paused. These two were asking all the right, albeit hard, questions.

"Why do we do or say many of the things we do—or say?" he asked. "We tend to put too much faith in our own abilities—and, well, I don't have to tell you. But to answer your question about getting it wrong, Ali, faith is like a muscle—the more you exercise it, the stronger it gets!"

They conceded the point to him. Ali decided to try a different tactic.

"So what's with the bowtie and suspenders?" she asked, realizing this might rile him up.

"You don't approve?"

"Well, they do look a little 'campy'!" she said. "Or, is that just another attempt to—"

Gene interrupted again, but kept his tone lighthearted. "Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?"

" _God_ told you to dress like this?" scoffed Maria.

Gene deflected her question with one of his own. "Are you always so snarky?"

Maria shot back, "Do you always talk to yourself?" She threw in a seductive smile to keep him off balance. "You know, I'm not a psychiatrist, but while you were performing, you seemed a little odd, maybe even schizo."

Gene didn't take kindly to her statement. He glared at Maria but realized that he instigated this verbal joust. He tried to diffuse it.

"Yes, I was definitely distracted up there," he said. "I'm not schizophrenic but I do have a mild case of 'SAD.'"

"What is 'SAD?'" asked Ali.

Gene hesitated but explained. "It's an acronym for 'Social Anxiety Disorder, S-A-D.' In short, I don't do well in large groups of people."

"How _sad_ ," giggled Maria.

Gene frowned. "Oh, that's good, Maria. I've never heard that one before." He caught himself, realizing he sounded just like her—sarcastic. Time to apologize.

"Sorry, I'm not a big fan of sarcasm," he followed. "It seems to be contagious here tonight."

Maria backed off. There was another uncomfortable pause at the table. Gene's eyes widened—he had an idea.

"I know—you're thinking, 'It's time for another test,' right?"

His question surprised Ali but she stood her ground. "Well, now that you mention it, yes! Tell us something about ourselves that you couldn't possibly know."

Gene smiled, but then seemed reluctant to do it.

"You know, it just occurred to me: I don't think God likes me doing this on a whim," he said.

"Well, it was _your_ idea," said Maria.

Gene thought for a moment and answered with, "No, you're right, Maria. 'My bad', as the kids say. And if it helps _your_ faith...," he paused again and said, "Okay, let's do it—but before we start, I'll need something from you!"

"Oh, here it comes, Ali," said Maria. "There's always a catch!"

"Don't worry, it's nothing bad. It's just fair play," said Gene. He waited patiently for their decisions.

Maria and Ali looked at each other. They felt comfortable with Gene. They agreed to hear him out.

"I need your word—you have to _promise_ to be completely honest with me—and play this out to the end!"

Ali knew what he was implying. She defiantly consented by nodding her head. She'd play by her own rules if things got out of hand. Maria looked apprehensive but went along with her cousin and did the same.

"Not good enough—I need to hear you both say it," demanded Gene.

Ali rolled her eyes and Maria groaned in frustration.

"Okay, okay—I promise! I'll be totally honest and I promise not to take my ball and go home if things get dicey. Good enough?" asked Ali.

Gene turned to Maria and waited for her answer.

"I'm with Ali. Let's do this," she said.

Again, Gene smiled. "Okay, now we're talkin'. Now just like on stage, I'd like to touch your shoulder for a sec, okay?"

Maria saw that she would be going first in this little experiment. She took a deep breath and nodded. Gene gently placed his hand on Maria's shoulder and closed his eyes. The women were quiet. He concentrated, or prayed—they weren't sure which. He then opened his eyes and seemed to be processing what he thought he learned. Impressions were flooding his mind. Gene was now ready to take the women from the safety of the shoreline into perilous, murky waters!

Chapter 9

Maria waited patiently for his response.

"Okay Maria, are you ready?" he asked, as if giving her one last opportunity to back out.

"Don't drag this out—let's go!" she ordered.

Gene had a "be careful what you ask for" guise on his face. Ali gently tapped Maria's wrist, reminding her to mind her manners. Maria got it and softened her tone toward Gene. To Maria, even though they were almost the same age, Ali was always the mature one—the mother-figure of the two.

"Maria," Gene began, "I want you to know that you are fearfully and wonderfully made. At times, you can be—how should I say this—a bit harsh. But I think it's simply because you're a diamond in the rough, a work in progress. And one day, when that special guy comes into your life—"

Maria stopped him immediately. She knew where he was going with this and let out an obnoxious, cynical laugh.

"Oh, that's _good_! You figured that since I'm here at this 'pick-up' club that I must be looking for a man. Did God tell you that?" she asked, and then sipped her drink.

"Maria, remember those 'girly-boys' we had to deal with tonight?"

Maria almost choked on her drink. Her eyes widened in surprise at his question, knowing now that he was getting too close.

"That one guy—you were hoping to see _him_ tonight based on last Friday's brief encounter—the guy named Mac." Gene challenged her to deny it.

Maria blushed with embarrassment and lowered her eyes. "How could you know something like that?" she asked, somewhat disheartened.

Ali broke in with a stinging rebuke.

"You knew that guy? So that's why you wouldn't back me up? I needed you!"

Maria tried to defend herself.

"So what? I came through for you when it really counted. Doesn't that matter?"

Gene interjected, "It does, Maria. But when you spoke to Ali on the phone tonight, your very _first_ thought, was to take her out and cheer her up, right?"

Maria tensed up. Again, she suspected what Gene was getting at.

"I, uh, yes...I wanted to cheer her up!" she repeated, as if hoping that would end the discussion.

Gene stared directly into her eyes and said nothing. Maria knew he was waiting for her to come out with the truth.

"Let's just say that cheering her up rated very high on my priority list," she answered sheepishly.

Ali jumped in again, this time fuming. "Oh, that's just great! You dragged me to this dive just to see some _dude_ and almost got me involved with one of his creepy friends!" Ali was clearly angry.

Maria blushed again in shame. Her little scheme had just come to light. She never thought she'd have to explain herself, and now the truth was literally in her face. She took a moment and started to tear up.

"I'm sorry, Ali. I-I couldn't help it. I was..."

She turned to Gene for support. He offered a sympathetic expression but he was not letting her off the hook.

"Okay, okay—I was _lonely_! I didn't think there would be a problem... and that's the _truth_ ," she confessed.

Maria felt Ali's piercing glare at her. She was too ashamed to face her. To some extent, she had betrayed her cousin and best friend under the pretext of lifting her spirits. Gene was now compelled to step in.

"Thanks for your honesty, Maria. I know that wasn't easy," he said and paused. "None of us are perfect but He's got someone far better for you. You just have to be patient and have faith."

Ali was still casting visual daggers at her cousin but sensed that Gene was now staring at her. He continued.

"And I _know_ that Ali can find a way to forgive you!"

Ali snapped at him. "Really? What makes you say that, Mr. G-Mann?"

Gene smiled, as though anticipating her question.

"Because now it's your turn to hear and handle the truth," he replied straightforwardly. "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'Judge not, lest you be judged'?"

"Bring it on," she defiantly answered. "I can take it!"

Gene shook his head gently and laughed. He had heard responses like hers on many occasions. Everyone said almost the same thing, until he got too close.

"May I touch your shoulder, Ali—just to be sure?" he politely asked.

Ali nodded her head, recalling that the "touch" was part of his routine. Gene leaned closer, placed his open palm softly on her shoulder and closed his eyes. About twenty seconds later, he removed his hand and opened his eyes, ready to share all he had learned about Ali Suarez. A smile preceded his opening comment, which Ali couldn't help but notice.

"You're not getting a little cocky now, are you, Mr. G-Mann?" she asked.

"No, Ali," he answered. He took a sip of his water. "I'm actually glad to hear you take that attitude. After all, you were a little tough on Maria tonight— _and_ your husband!"

"My husband? What are you talking about?"

"Seriously?" asked Gene, almost sounding cynical himself.

Ali shot him an icy stare, daring him to come out with what he _thought_ he knew. Gene looked deeply into her eyes, ready to take her up on her challenge. He replied in a soft but direct manner.

"When you got here tonight, at Bandanna's, what crossed your mind just before you entered this, uh, 'establishment'?" he probed.

Ali held her best poker face and did not answer. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of her response. She wasn't quite sure what he was getting at but thought that a little defiance on her part might throw him off his game. Gene continued.

"Maybe I can help you. As you argued with your husband, you shut him down when he tried to explain himself. In fact, you were _irrational_ with him, weren't you?" asked Gene. He was beginning to sound like a prosecuting attorney.

Ali's visage was changing—her protective barrier was cracking. Her eyes began to get misty and she looked away from him.

"Okay, I-I've changed my mind. I don't want to do this anymore."

This didn't surprise Gene but Maria reacted instantly.

"Oh, so you've changed your mind?" Maria asked sweetly, apparently concerned about her dilemma. "That's nice—how _convenient_!"

Gene turned away for a moment, as though unable to cope with the amount of sarcasm that both women were capable of.

Ali got quiet and looked away from Maria too. She was in the hot seat now. Maria glared at her cousin, waiting for her reaction. Gene used his most controlled tone and reminded her of the rules.

"I thought we had an agreement, Ali?" he asked.

Maria took it a step further. "Yes, I remember hearing him ask something like, 'Can you handle it—the _truth_?' And, I might have heard it wrong, but you said something like, 'I'll be honest.' There was also something else about you not quitting and taking your ball home."

"Yeah, well, I don't care. I've changed my mind. I have the right to remain silent!" said Ali.

Gene chuckled. "You're not being arrested, Ali, but that was kinda funny! Well, don't worry about confessing—I'm gonna tell you anyway!"

"Well, I'm not gonna listen!" Ali retorted.

Gene started to speak and Ali covered her ears. She looked down and started singing a "la-la-la—I can't _hear_ you" song as if she was a child. Maria's eyes widened and she frowned at her cousin's immature behavior. She might behave like this, not Ali. Gene continued his report.

"And when you heard me say that corny line, ' _one...more...time,_ ' you knew then that I was not who I was pretending to be. You guessed that my time with these people, my act, was actually part of _your_ show. And to some degree, you were right!"

He tilted his head as though wondering if she was taking in any of this information despite her childish behavior. He continued. "But the clincher was when you saw me hug Robin on the stage—that's when it hit you, didn't it?"

Ali was in denial. She still covered her ears and sang that ridiculous tune. But she _did_ hear what Gene was saying.

"Now, would you like me to share the rest with Maria or would you like to tell her yourself?"

Exasperated, Ali gave up.

"All right, _all right_!" she shouted. A few heads turned in her direction at her outburst. Ali hastily looked around the immediate area, lowered her head and adjusted her volume accordingly. "I was thinking of what my husband told me tonight..."

Gene clarified with "Raphie." Once again, Maria was taken aback.

"Ali, he knows Raphie's name too?"

Ali was mildly surprised herself. The women knew for a fact that his name had not been mentioned tonight in Gene's presence, even casually.

"Maria, it's not just about him knowing names. It's all the other things, the secret things," replied Ali. "Those people on the stage... us. He knows too much, far more than anyone..."

She was afraid to finish her sentence. They both stared at Gene with a combination of shock and awe.

Gene returned their gaze, but not in the way they expected. His expression—his countenance—changed from friendly and supportive, to dark and grim!

Chapter 10

"What's going on here? Who _are_ you?" asked Ali. "Are you...?" She stopped. She couldn't bring herself to ask it.

There was more silence—accompanied by awkward eye contact.

Gene offered a non-threatening response. "Who I am is not important. All you need to know is that I'm not some character from an alternate dimension—or some television show," he said, almost sounding facetious.

Ali felt goosebumps on the back of her neck. She had that weird feeling of déjà vu, as if she had heard—or lived through—that phrase before. "W-What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I mean, _Aliana_!"

His use of her real name in that manner startled the women. He even said it the same way her father used to say it when he lost patience with her.

" _Again_ with the names! How do you..." Maria started to ask but stopped.

"Are you some kind of an angel, or something?" Ali asked, unconcerned at how it sounded.

Gene snickered at her question. He took a deep cleansing breath. He also closed his eyes for a moment and placed his hands to his face in frustration.

"An angel? C'mon, a guy like me? With all my quirks and insecurities?" he asked. "Now who's the comedian?"

"He could be an angel, Ali," said Maria. "He might just be a cranky angel, an angel with an attitude!"

Gene feigned a scowl but he and Ali continued to listen. Maria carried on with her thought. "Didn't you see how he acted with those three guys? You saw the attitude he got with that first guy on the stage—you know, the one who tried to set him up!"

Gene guffawed and aggressively slapped the table with the palm of his hand. This action surprised the women. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about! An angel with an attitude... uh, no, that's not me, Maria!"

When he regained his normal easy-going manner, he explained just enough to the women to close the subject.

"I'm just a regular guy, just like..."

In unison, the women crossed their arms, daring him to make a silly joke about them. Gene immediately adjusted his answer for the noticeable drop in temperature at the table.

"Uh, all these other g-guys here...," he stammered. He met their eyes with a relieved expression. He continued.

"Look, I'm just like you—a human being with feelings. Yes, I do have a gift. It takes the form of a "word of knowledge" that I use to help others. I might also have a heightened sense of awareness, but anyway...I love people. I feel their pain. I do my best to help them when I can," he explained. "It always takes a lot out of me when I use my gift—but I do it for Him!"

Again, he pointed upward. The women couldn't take their eyes from Gene.

"The short version of my story is that in my darkest hour, He came through for me," Gene said, with tears filling his eyes. "He rescued me so I made a promise to Him—and the rest is history."

Ali and Maria smiled, moved by his explanation, and possibly because of his unintentional play on words. They wanted to hear more but suspected that he was exhausted, worn out by working his "magic" tonight.

"And I get cranky when someone makes fun of me or is constantly sarcastic with me. Anyone here fit the description?" He waited for their responses. Hearing none, he finished up with, "Now, do I fit the image of any kind of angel that you could possibly imagine?"

They were ready to reply but not to that specific question. This time, Maria went first.

"I'm... no, _we_ are sorry! It just occurred to me that our smart-aleck answers and, how did you describe me—my _harsh_ exterior could test anyone to the limit. Maybe it's how I deal with rejection, or fear; I don't know. Please accept my, uh, _our_ apologies."

Ali didn't have anything to say—Maria had said it all. Gene settled himself down, waiting for them to open their minds and their hearts to his final readings for the night. He was weary and it showed.

A moment later, Ali decided that maybe she should apologize as well. She started to speak but Gene stopped her by raising his hand, suggesting that her apology was unnecessary. He was running out of time and had to make his point. In that surreal, dark demeanor and tone, he began to share the heart of his message.

* * * * *

Gene had a faraway look in his eyes and seemed to be disconnected from his surroundings. He started reciting scripture.

"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life," he said, waiting for a possible objection.

Hearing none, he continued. "Do not cast your pearls before swine; Love is patient, love is kind. Love never fails," he recited, with an otherworldly gaze at the women.

He paused to let them drink in his words. "Have you heard these verses before?"

"We've been to church," said Maria. "We know what you're getting at."

Regardless, both women were captivated by his words. This was not the same peculiar young man they had been getting to know. He further explained.

"If we turn from our sins and ask Jesus into our hearts, he is faithful to forgive us. He cleans us up. We become new creatures. His Holy Spirit fills us and lives in us—He permeates our very being. He changes the old into new, even on a cellular level," he said and paused again. "The Holy Spirit even tells us what to say," he added and followed it with an exaggerated wink.

"Think of this transformation as a change in our DNA," he explained. "We then learn how to love others the way Jesus loves us. We perceive things more through our hearts and less through our senses. We're able to practice greater self-control. This is a free gift... and all we gotta do is ask!"

His words were powerful—enchanting. They clearly understood him and were willing to hear more. Gene went on, but took it down a notch.

"Maria, God knows your heart. You have such a wonderful spirit. Don't be willing to settle for less than His best for you. He _will_ bring that terrific man to you when it's time. Will you open your heart and receive this word—from _Him_?"

Maria was silent. For the first time in a while, she had nothing. No stinging remarks, no sarcasm. Gene held his gaze but she wasn't intimidated—or defensive. Perhaps it was something in the way he said it. She trusted him and wanted to hear more. He smiled and turned to Ali.

"Ali, He certainly knows what you went through as a child. Why wouldn't He? He's God! Your mother left your father and you were never told of her reasons. But He knows. You need to give it to Him—let go of the past and move on."

He gave them a moment to digest his words. He then continued.

"He wants to help you, both of you. He has something very special to offer you tonight—if you'll receive it!"

The women perked up at his statement. He had their attention, without the attitudes.

"He wants you, Ali and Maria, to take another chance on love, because you were never made to quit."

The women dropped their guards. They opened themselves up to the nectar Gene was pouring into their hearts. Gene's expression became softer, lighter.

"Sometimes, we just need a little tough love... or what I like to call 'gene therapy,'" he said and then chuckled. "That joke never gets old to me. Not bad, eh?"

The women were stirred by his lighter bearing. Maria grinned along with him but Ali was ashamed. She remembered what she said to Raphael about her reason for leaving him: It must be something in her "genes." It sounded appropriate at the time. After all, her mother just upped and walked out on them. Perhaps running away was a genetic trait—or curse— in her family.

"I really enjoyed my time on the stage," Gene said. "Tonight, I was able to keep at least one person humble, another happy—and that couple... I guess we'll have to wait and see what God does with them," he said, in all sincerity. "I'm not sure how that will play out."

Maria commented on his last statement. "You're not sure? That's a first."

Gene smiled. He took a breath, glanced downward at the table and continued. "God's not judging either of you—and He is certainly not condemning you. But He loves you far too much to _not_ share the truth!"

There was another moment of silence.

"Try to think of our 'meeting' tonight as a form of discipline," he continued. The women again showed their surprise. He added, "How many of His children would you think He punishes by sending them to a comedy club? He's got to be laughing about now."

His explanations were starting to sound outlandish, but nonetheless spellbinding to Ali and Maria. Both were considering his words. He went on to clarify his last statement.

"Think of it like this: instead of God saying, 'Ali, go to your room,' He says, 'Ali—go to Bandanna's Comedy Club. You'll get my answer there—I'll send you the help you need.'"

Maria's eyes glistened, and Ali knew she was enthralled by his illustration; Ali accepted what Gene was saying, but was also uncomfortable.

_All this was some predestined supernatural encounter?_ she wondered.

She needed more time—and distance—to let this sink in!

"I think," Ali started, "this is getting really—"

"Mystical, uncanny... weird?" Gene interrupted. "Are those the words you were looking for?

Ali didn't seem surprised that he asked her similar questions in the same way she had earlier asked Maria. She smiled but wouldn't answer. Maria reached over and placed her hand on her cousin's hand. Maria knew Ali well enough to know what she was suggesting and she would back her up this time.

"I think it's time to leave, Maria," said Ali, softly but firmly. "I've got some thinking to do."

Maria and Ali met Gene's eyes. He smiled and averted his gaze.

"That's okay," he said. "I have to go too. If you hadn't noticed, I'm a little wiped out."

Gene casually looked around the room and then turned back to them, as though he had just remembered something important. "Oh, may I ask a favor of you— _both_?"

The women now knew that his favors came with a high price—their hearts, their souls were vulnerable. Ali was slow to answer but agreeable. Maria followed her cousin's lead.

"Maria, this might sound strange to you, but will you take your mother to church this Sunday?"

Maria was puzzled and quickly glanced at Ali, then back at Gene. "That's it? That's your favor? Why would you ask me something like that?"

"I happen to have firsthand knowledge that she would like you to take her. You'll be glad you did!"

"I haven't stepped foot inside her church—"

" _His_ church," Gene corrected.

Maria froze. She thought about it and slowly bobbed her head in agreement.

"Also, you never know who you might meet there! It'll be great," he grinned. "You'll feel fresh, new, like you've just been born again!"

Again, Maria was dumbfounded. That's what she had said to Ali. Gene smiled and winked at her. He then turned to Ali. Her tension thermometer just shot up a few degrees.

"Ali, please go home to Raphie— _tonight_! Talk to him again, hear him out. He tried to explain—he did his best. It's important to him that you try to understand his position."

Ali couldn't resist. "Is this where you tell me again to take another chance on love—because we were never made to quit?"

Gene grinned. "Maybe you should be the one on stage!"

Ali was quiet—her unease was dissipating. She looked directly into Gene's eyes and then indicated that she would do as Gene asked. To an outsider looking in, she and Maria appeared as if they were under some hypnotic spell.

"Remember, Ali, he _loves_ you!"

"I know," Ali said with a deep sigh. "But which 'he' are you talking about, Raphie or God?"

Gene then brought on his deadpan expression and shot back with a nerdy-sounding "yes."

Ali let out a burst of laughter and rolled her eyes at his incredibly, lame response. Maria laughed too but Gene pretended that his comment was not supposed to be a comical moment. Nevertheless, they got it.

"Is there anything else?" asked Ali.

Gene yawned and glanced around the room again as if looking for something in particular.

"Yeah, one last thing: Where's the restroom in this joint?"

Maria asked, slightly baffled, "Don't you know?"

Gene's eyes widened. He appeared surprised—Maria had finally nailed him.

"Well, actually I _do_!" he grinned. "Ahaaaaa! Just wanted to see if you were paying attention! Will you excuse me?" he asked and stood up from his chair. He looked back into the eyes of these two beautiful young women, grinned and walked toward the restrooms.

* * * * *

Ali and Maria were silent. They processed everything about their evening in Bandanna's Comedy Club—Gene's performance, the strange events, their discussion, _everything_. After a few moments, Ali broke the silence with a revelation of her own.

"Maria, he's not coming back!"

Maria answered thoughtfully. "I know—and that's the weird thing. I don't know how I know, but I do. So what should we do?"

Ali thought about it and answered.

"Well, we made a deal, right? You take your mom to church this Sunday, and I'll..."

"Yeah, that's a little scary," said Maria. She perked up. "Oh, why not? Let's do it!"

Ali motioned for their waitress. She came immediately to their table. When the waitress caught them reaching into their purses, she gently placed her hand on Ali's hand and shook her head.

"It's already been taken care of," the waitress informed her. "Thanks anyway!"

Maria had to ask: "Did the G-Mann..."

"Have a terrific night, hon," grinned the waitress.

Another surprise!

They looked at each other and stood up to leave. They made their way to the front entrance but this time didn't feel like they were walking through a gauntlet. Before exiting, they instinctively looked back to the table, hoping to see Gene. He hadn't returned. They scanned the room, observing the other customers. Everything seemed to be back to normal—almost just as it was when they first entered, except there was no musty odor and the male patrons weren't so obnoxious. They walked each other out.

When they arrived at their cars, Maria asked, "What just happened tonight?"

Ali didn't need time to answer this one. "I don't know. But whatever it was, I don't think it's over yet, Maria. It's still happening!"

Maria accepted her explanation and quipped, "Well, this is me, _going with it_!"

Ali grinned. "Yes indeed, here goes _something_!"

The cousins hugged each other and got into their cars. Maria made a quick pinkie-thumb gesture to her face, asking for Ali to call her if she needed to talk. Ali grinned and nodded. The women then started their cars and went their separate ways from Bandanna's Comedy Club.

Epilogue

After a long thoughtful drive, Ali pulled into the driveway of her home. Things were clearer to her now. She was slow to turn off the engine and get out of the car. She wondered how she could possibly face Raphael, realizing how badly she had treated him. How could she have been so unreasonable? She not only hurt the love of her life—she left him. Why should she expect him to forgive her? Then again, she wondered how her mother could just walk out on her and her father.

She considered these aspects and it occurred to her that what happened to her parents was out of her hands. Gene said that God knew the circumstances and implied that He had it under control. It happened—but it was history. End of story!

Now she had a similar decision to make. She knew her Raphie. He had been truthful the entire time. He might forgive her but could she ever forgive herself? She wondered if she was looking for a way out—a possible reason to put up her barriers again and run from him. After all, she told herself: it was in her "genes."

The brilliance of the porch light broke through the darkness at her home. The front door opened. Raphael came out, tentatively at first. He was careful to approach her, fearing that she might get back in the car and drive away. Cautiously, he looked deeply into her eyes, pleading for her to stay.

Ali returned his gaze. Tears formed from the corners of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She felt so ashamed that she could not meet his eyes any longer—it was then that he abandoned caution and ran to her. They embraced and both were quietly sobbing.

"I wasn't thinking...I'll _never—_ " he started.

"Shhh," she whispered. "Just tell me you love me!"

Raphael backed away from Ali. He answered by gently caressing both sides of her cheeks with the palms of his hands. He softly stroked her face with his fingers and gazed deeply and lovingly into her beautiful brown eyes. The only words he offered were, "With all my heart!" They embraced again, shared a loving kiss and strolled inside for the evening.

* * * * *

The next morning, Ali was awakened by the aroma of coffee and sizzling bacon on the stove. She looked over to where Raphael should have been but wasn't and connected the dots. She stretched her arms, her body and tossed her hair.

At that moment, Raphael entered the bedroom with two cups of coffee.

"Good morning, Aliana! How did you sleep?" he asked, his eyes fixed on her.

"Never better," she replied. "Thank you so much for the coffee. It's been a while since I've had it delivered to me." She also appreciated that he'd called her "Aliana" in a tender, loving way.

"Don't get up," said Raphael. "Although my wait staff called in today, I have things under control. No worries—breakfast is on the way up!"

She grinned at his joke, as weak as it sounded. He placed the cups on the nightstand just long enough to give his bride a "top-of-the-morning" kiss. Ali felt secure, ecstatic, and best of all, _loved_.

_Joy really does come in the morning_ , she thought.

As Raphael hurried back to the kitchen with his coffee in hand, Ali reached for the bedroom remote control and turned on the television set. She curiously surfed a few channels, stopped and clicked back to a previous local news channel. Something got her attention. She reached for her cup on the nightstand and sat up higher in the bed.

She couldn't quite make out what the reporter was saying but she did catch the news scroll at the bottom of the screen. Part of it read, "...with missing daughter." She manipulated the remote and turned up the volume, astonished by what she heard.

The news anchor reported, "...a very, special day, if not a miracle, for parents Robin and Hugh Powell. Their only daughter, missing for almost two years now, was found alive and well in a shelter two counties west of our location. We're just learning many of the details but apparently, on the night of her disappearance, she suffered a severe head injury, which resulted in amnesia. There was no wallet or identification found on her at the time. She was flown to the downtown trauma center, listed in critical condition."

The reporter then had her videographer focus on a couple and asked them to tell their story. Ali was astounded to see that this particular couple was familiar—and then she remembered. It was them—the last two people on stage last night with Gene. She recalled their names to be Robin and Hugh. Ali placed her fingers over her lips. She had to do a double-take because the couple she saw last night seemed ten years older. These two pictured on the television were overwhelmed with emotion but rejuvenated— _joyful_.

The camera then captured a blissful family reunion. Robin and Hugh were alternately weeping and laughing. Their daughter, Brittany, appeared joyful as well and was shown hugging her parents. The reporter cut to another familiar-looking person and asked for his take on the situation. This man was just as happy because he knew the couple—and their situation—well. He spent many a night listening to them as he served them drinks at Bandanna's Comedy Club.

The camera shifted to a police official. The reporter asked him why Brittany's parents were unable to find their daughter. The official could only respond by saying, "The girl had no ID on her the night of her injury and the rescue team had to move quickly. Once stabilized, she was moved to a trauma specialty center in a nearby county. We're still investigating, but the paperwork to authorize this move was somehow misplaced..."

Ali tuned out the rest of his explanation.

When it came time for Robin and Hugh to answer another question, they added that they had been looking for their child every day. They were on the verge of losing hope. Then, just last night, they told of receiving an "anonymous" tip as to Brittany's whereabouts. They emphasized that this lead panned out and that finding their daughter was nothing short of a miracle!

Ali muted the television to let it all sink in. She continued to take in the images from the report and skimmed over the information scrolling at the bottom of the screen. Ali knew that she should be jumping up and down with happiness, but she experienced a uniquely, different emotion—a soothing sense of _peace_.

She let the warmth of this feeling permeate every fabric of her being. Ali concluded that God had not only answered her prayer but the desperate cries from others as well. And it was all a little ironic how God chose to help them—by sending an eccentric young man who, regardless of his spiritual gifts, had his share of foibles as well.

She then looked up to the ceiling, as if she was looking _through_ it. Thinking back to her amazing encounter with Gene, her reunion with Raphael and what she had just learned on the news, all she could do was beam with joy. Like Gene, she raised her right index finger to heaven and waved it. Tears filled her eyes and she whispered a heartfelt "thank you!"

* * * * *

A short distance from the Suarez' home, a lone figure was leaning

against a fence post next to the sidewalk. This person could have passed for a neighbor just out for a morning stroll but his Hollywood-styled haircut and his ultra-cool trench coat would have betrayed him. His stylish sunglasses definitely accentuated his persona.

This man was Gene. He was gazing at the Suarez' home with his left index finger and thumb placed to his temple. A passerby glancing his way might have determined that he was using his cell phone, straining to hear the voice on the other end. Actually, Gene was concentrating—deeply focused—as if he was tuned-in to some late-breaking development.

A moment later, a smile formed on his face. He took a minute to process his thought and then looked skyward. He pointed upward as well with his right index finger and mouthed the words, "thank you."

Gene quickly glanced around, turned and walked away in the direction of the morning sun.

The End

About the Author

Lanny Smith is a Christian high school teacher, a former "Class B+" surfer and a veteran of the U. S. Air Force. He currently lives in Florida with his wife and one of his three children.

Other works by Lanny Smith:

The Radical Ride

(Novel and Screenplay)

http://www.TheRadicalRide.com

The Christmas Beacon

(Novella and Screenplay)

http://www.TheChristmasBeacon.com

Gene Therapy

(A Short Film – Screenplay)

