A Frank and Earnest Discussion - Day 1
The summer days had just begun to bloom. The heat, which would become oppressive in August, still felt warm and refreshing after the cold of winter. People had not yet retired to their air conditioning. The town was busy, but in a relaxed way.
Two ministers met in at one of the many tables in the town square.
Frank was the local Southern Baptist preacher, had been one for some twenty years now. He wore his usual suit and tie, carried his usual brown bag lunch his wife had made for him.
Frank’s prominent stomach sought to escape the confinement of his white dress shirt, but the buttons hung on, barely. His black shoes were covered in dust, as usual, from his morning calls. The long strands of hair fought to return to the side of his head where they originated from Frank brushed them back to the top, which was quite empty, and boomed, “Hi Ernie!”
Earnest was the local Methodist preacher. He had been at this church for ten years and loved his church members, the town, and just about everything there was to love. His mother had spelled his name EARNEST instead of the more conventional ERNEST in an attempt to instill truth into her newborn. Earnest felt that it had worked.
Earnest returned “Hey Frankie,” and put his Salad Exchange sack down on the twelve layers of paint on the picnic table. Earnest was dressed in his usual casual slacks, short-sleeved shirt, and tennis shoes.
Frank and Earnest had problems at the beginning of their relationship, thinking of each other as rivals. But after a few years of competing bake sales, they grew fond of each other and had been meeting for lunch every Thursday for over five years.
They both settled into the attached seats, Earnest settling easier due to his slim stature.
“Frank, heard you’re preaching on Evolution again.”
Earnest had purposely waited until Frank had taken a big bite of his bologna sandwich to bring up this topic. He enjoyed watching Frank’s eyes burn while his jaw worked for force the bread and meat down quickly.
Neither Frank nor Earnest had noticed a young boy, around seven, who was just sitting under a tree close to them. The boy had been watching a horde of ants try to carry a dead grasshopper back to their hill, but he looked up when Frank asked his question.
“Ernie, I know we’ve talked about this many times before, but you can’t disguise lies by calling it science.”
Earnest slowly moved a small clump of salad from the plastic box into his mouth and smiled.
The little boy wasn’t smiling – he was just listening.
Two ministers met in at one of the many tables in the town square.
Frank was the local Southern Baptist preacher, had been one for some twenty years now. He wore his usual suit and tie, carried his usual brown bag lunch his wife had made for him.
Frank’s prominent stomach sought to escape the confinement of his white dress shirt, but the buttons hung on, barely. His black shoes were covered in dust, as usual, from his morning calls. The long strands of hair fought to return to the side of his head where they originated from Frank brushed them back to the top, which was quite empty, and boomed, “Hi Ernie!”
Earnest was the local Methodist preacher. He had been at this church for ten years and loved his church members, the town, and just about everything there was to love. His mother had spelled his name EARNEST instead of the more conventional ERNEST in an attempt to instill truth into her newborn. Earnest felt that it had worked.
Earnest returned “Hey Frankie,” and put his Salad Exchange sack down on the twelve layers of paint on the picnic table. Earnest was dressed in his usual casual slacks, short-sleeved shirt, and tennis shoes.
Frank and Earnest had problems at the beginning of their relationship, thinking of each other as rivals. But after a few years of competing bake sales, they grew fond of each other and had been meeting for lunch every Thursday for over five years.
They both settled into the attached seats, Earnest settling easier due to his slim stature.
“Frank, heard you’re preaching on Evolution again.”
Earnest had purposely waited until Frank had taken a big bite of his bologna sandwich to bring up this topic. He enjoyed watching Frank’s eyes burn while his jaw worked for force the bread and meat down quickly.
Neither Frank nor Earnest had noticed a young boy, around seven, who was just sitting under a tree close to them. The boy had been watching a horde of ants try to carry a dead grasshopper back to their hill, but he looked up when Frank asked his question.
“Ernie, I know we’ve talked about this many times before, but you can’t disguise lies by calling it science.”
Earnest slowly moved a small clump of salad from the plastic box into his mouth and smiled.
The little boy wasn’t smiling – he was just listening.
posted by Jimmie C. | 2:52 PM
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