November 5, 2005

• “A
  dance? A Valentine's dance? I'm supposed to take some woman I've
  never met - heck, I just heard about about her an hour ago
  - to a Valentine's dance?” Claude yelped, then glowered
  across the table. Man oh man, just when you thought a situation
  couldn't get any worse...WHAMMO. It never failed.

  Brad
  slunk down in his seat in a futile effort to escape the older man's
  piercing, and definitely a shade on the uncomplimentary side, glare,
  turning red under the force of it. Clearing his throat, he sought to
  mitigate the damage done by his unvarnished revelation of the plans
  made by him and his cousin, Val. In fact, he thought rebelliously,
  this whole thing was her idea, so let her take the heat. “It
  was really Val's idea. You remember Val? My cousin? She helps me
  with creating announcements and such for the youth ministry?”
  Maybe reminding Claude of Val's efforts on behalf of Veritas Bible
  Church would help, especially since Val wasn't even a member.

  On
  the other hand, maybe it wouldn't. “You mean the ditzy blond who
  dreamed up that dumb 'Stamp Out Your Self Elf' campaign for
  Christmas? Gee, that explains a lot,” Claude said derisively.

  Brad
  flushed as he leapt to his absent relative's defense. “Now,
  Claude, that's not fair. You came in on the tail end of it, is all.
  It had great potential and I'll bet would have worked out fine if
  only kids these days knew how to read. How was Val supposed to
  foresee them making an acronym out of the phrase, then mispronouncing
  it?” Matching Claude glare for defiant glare, he scowled when the
  other man started to snicker.

  “That's
  one that'll go down in the history book of the church, that's for
  certain sure. It'll be a long while before parents forget their
  middle school children urging each other to get soused for the Lord,”
  Claude chuckled. Brad pokered up even more, then relented and
  sheepishly grinned, remembering the irate phone calls he'd fielded
  for weeks.

  “I
  still don't see how those kids got 'souse' out of S.O.Y.S.E.”
  Claude mused, sipping at his tea.

  Brad
  shrugged as he muttered, “Dollars to donuts it was Jane Silverwood.
  Girl never could spell worth a lick.” Dismissing this line
  of discussion as fruitless, he leaned forward to start making his
  case in earnest. “Now listen, Claude, here's the deal. Maybe you
  haven't heard of it before but there's an adoption agency here in
  town we're right proud of, Glad Knees Adoption Foundation.” Claude
  cocked an eyebrow at the name.

  “Glad
  Knees?” he repeated.

  “From
  the book of Isaiah, of course. Anyway, one of their programs is
  finding adoptive families for kids in Russian orphanages, but lots of
  people don't have the money to fund two or three trips to Russia and
  the fees, so they're having a dance and a silent auction to help
  raise money to help underwrite the cost of Russian adoption for those
  who couldn't do it otherwise.” Brad beamed across the booth,
  hoping the worthiness of the cause would be enough to override the
  older man's objections to the scheme.

  Claude
  mentally examined it and silently agreed it was indeed a worthwhile
  goal. “You said there's a silent auction, right? Can't I just
  donate something to it and leave it at that?” he asked plaintively.

  “If
  you want to donate that'd be great, naturally, but what Glad Knees
  really needs are couples to participate in the Heart-2-Heart
  game.” Brad hastened on as Claude's expression became forbidding
  once again. “It's not that bad, Claude. What they're doing is
  seeding the dance with couples who may or may not be, well, real,
  if you see what I mean. Those couples wear special nametags or
  something that designate them as participants, and everybody else
  talks to them and asks them questions, trying to tell if they're only
  together for the dance, or if they're seeing each other already.
  Extra points for guessing how long a couple has been going out.
  Whoever gets the most points wins a prize. Think about it,
  Claude...” he continued earnestly, ignoring his companion's
  unenthusiastic “Oh, I am.” “...you'll be perfect! You're new
  in town, so hardly anyone outside of Veritas knows you, and even they
  won't know if you've been seeing Maud before. But with you a pastor,
  and her having been married to the pastor of another Bible church
  before he died, they'll figure maybe you have. Heck, you and Maud
  will drive 'em crazy, I'll bet!” Brad laughed.

  Claude
  didn't, so the younger man hurried on. “Plus it'll be a terrific
  way for you to meet people and get a bit more plugged into Fort
  Worth. Why, you can use it as an opportunity to invite people to
  church, come to that.” Deciding to end on this uplifting note,
  Brad took a long draft of his root beer, keeping an eye on the older
  man, who seemed to be brooding.

  Brad
  wasn't sure if brooding was good or not, but figured he had done
  about as much as he could, so kept silent.

  “We
  don't have to be on a stage or anything, right? We just attend like
  everyone else, only get asked questions? We don't try to trick
  anyone by lying?” Claude asked.

  Brad
  firmly shook his head. “Nope. All you two do is answer questions
  as people try to learn how long you've known each other.”

  Claude
  sighed and leaned back, defeat etched in his face. “Oh, alright.
  It's a good cause, as you said, and it will be an easy way to
  meet people outside the church.” He took in Brad's triumphant
  expression, though, and felt a frission of suspicion. “This isn't
  a set-up, is it? I mean, the whole point is to help the Russian
  adoption program. You and Val aren't playing matchmaker or anything
  like that?”

  “No,
  no, Claude,” Brad said lightly, “that's the farthest thing from
  our minds. Honest.”

  “Hmmmm....”
  Claude intoned. “See that it stays that way.”

  =========================
  

  Thus endth the first chapter. 
  

  • 12:39 pm
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