Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
PASTEUR
Louis’s phone vibrated, the sharp buzz breaking the stillness around him. He glanced down, expecting the usual banter from one of the guys, but what he saw made his breath hitch.
So, I hear you are the guy to make all my dreams come true?
His heart pounded. His first instinct was to look around, scanning the room as if he might catch someone watching, waiting for his reaction. A joke, maybe? The guys pulled pranks all the time, but this—this was different. There was something raw about it, something that sent a chill through him.
His fingers hesitated over the keys before he finally replied.
I don’t know about that, but I’ll give it a try. Who’s this?
No names.
A slow exhale left his lips.
Fair enough—Hi Person. I’m Person. Nice to meet you.
Where are you?
No locations.
A mystery. A secret wrapped in layers of uncertainty. He leaned back; his grip tightening around the phone.
Gotcha—a mystery person, eh?
A long pause. Then?—
I shouldn’t even be doing this…
Something about those words settled heavy in his chest. His fingers flexed as he typed.
Why not?
Obviously, you texted for a reason…
Another hesitation. He could almost feel it through the screen.
Because I feel like I’m falling apart—and I’m scared.
The confession hit like a punch to the gut. His throat tightened. This wasn’t just some random conversation. Whoever this was—they needed him.
Want to tell me what is going on?
No.
Louis stared at the word, feeling the weight of it. Whoever was on the other end was barely hanging on, reaching out but too afraid to be seen.
You know, it makes things hard to talk to someone when you don’t know who it is, what is wrong, or what is going on. I feel like you are setting me up for failure.
I’m not. I just need a friend right now—okay?
A friend.
Something in him softened, a part of himself he rarely let show.
That I can do.
Are you being sarcastic?
Nope. I could use a friend, too, but on one condition.
What’s that?
We never lie to each other.
Friends don’t lie to each other – there is trust between them. While we don’t know each other, I think this anonymity helps. Safety behind the screen and such…
A pause. He could feel them thinking, weighing his words before the response came.
Or judge.
No judgment if something gets shared. It stays right here.
A lump formed in his throat.
I like that idea.
Why?
Louis hesitated, then typed the truth.
Because I feel like a failure sometimes and wouldn’t want someone judging me either, if you take the pressure off, it’s like you can open up safely to the other person.
There was a long silence. His pulse thrummed as he stared at the screen, waiting, needing to know if they were still there.
Then—
Why do you feel like a failure?
His fingers hovered. It wasn’t something he admitted, not even to himself most days. But this person—this stranger—felt closer in this moment than anyone had in a long time.
Because I wish I could be a better person sometimes, and I let myself down a lot because I’m only human.
A beat. Then?—
Aren’t we all, buddy?
The phone grew silent. The cursor blinked, mocking the stillness between them. Louis swallowed, his chest tight with something he couldn’t name. He didn’t know who this person was, but right now, none of that mattered.
You know, you are welcome to text anytime. I might be at work, but I’ll always reply, my friend.
Another pause. Then, finally?—
Thank you, my friend.
Louis exhaled, his grip loosening on the phone. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for now, at this moment, neither of them had to feel alone.
It had been almost a week since Louis last received one of the cryptic messages. He hadn’t expected another, but when his phone vibrated, the familiar surge of anticipation and curiosity hit him hard.
He read the text once.
Then again.
If you know something is bad for you, is it wrong to avoid it?
His fingers hovered over the screen before he responded, considering the weight behind the words. Whoever this was, they weren’t just making small talk. This was someone reaching out from the edge of something unseen, unspoken, yet needing support – to know they did the right thing.
Not at all – kudos for identifying what is not helping you. Most people struggle with that.
A pause.
Then, another message.
Do you?
Louis swallowed hard. He could deflect. He could downplay it. But this person—whoever they were—was asking in a way that made him feel like honesty was the only acceptable answer.
Just as much as the next person. What do you struggle with?
You first.
That hesitation again. That need to keep a safe distance while still reaching out. He took a slow breath, rubbing a tired hand over his face.
My self-esteem.
I feel like I’m going through the motions sometimes, wishing I had more conviction to push myself forward.
A longer pause this time, and then?—
A response.
My self-confidence.
I think if I was a stronger person and believed in myself more, then maybe I wouldn’t fall into these messes.
His gut twisted. Messes. Plural. That single word carried weight as a burden shouldered too long. His thumbs moved over the screen before he could second-guess himself.
Are you in a mess?
Right now? No.
In the past—oh yes.
Deep ones!
A confession, but guarded. Like whoever was there waiting to see if he’d judge them.
Have you ever woken up and cried hard enough to make yourself sick because you couldn’t remember the night before or what you did?
The breath left his lungs. He wasn’t expecting that. He had seen pain carried in the faces of men he worked alongside, but this—this was something raw, something unraveling in real-time.
No…
He typed carefully, knowing he was treading lightly. This person was opening up and looking for an excuse to back away. If this stranger shut down and stopped communicating, he would be mentally devastated and feel guilty like he’d caused them to go off the deep end or something.
But I’ve woken up in a pile of cold vomit. Do you know how disturbing that is? To realize it’s actually cold because you’ve been there so long?
That was the last time I went drinking, and I haven’t touched the stuff again.
A beat. Then?—
I did once after that horrible night of crying. I was talked into going out again, and it was followed by regret. And then I have avoided it ever since.
Painful honesty. He knew it took a lot for them to open up and admit that – but they were reaching out, and that was progress in his mind.
Alcohol is evil.
Louis exhaled a dry, humorless chuckle though there was no amusement behind it. It could be, and after waking up in his own puke, he was convinced never to touch the stuff again.
Dude, I think it’s people who are evil, and alcohol lets it show.
He smiled.
You might be right.
The silence that followed was heavy, stretching between them like a bridge neither was sure how to cross. He drummed his fingers against the screen, reluctant to let the conversation slip into nothingness.
What are you doing tonight? I’m staying in bed reading where I can relax and not worry about things. You?
You know, I haven’t read a book in forever, so you’ve inspired me. I might download something and read tonight.
There was something in that answer—something quiet and fragile, like a truce with their own mind.
Make sure it’s something light and inspirational. If you are like me, you don’t need anything depressing or disheartening.
I’m a complete chicken – no murder books, no gruesome stuff, no dramas. I like comedy, laughter, or fantasy. Hallmark Channel fan, here!
What are you reading?
The Bible.
There was a beat of stillness before the reply came.
Figures.
Louis barked out a dry laugh, the sound abrupt in the quiet of the ship’s bunks. A few of the guys glanced over, but he ignored them, his attention locked on the screen.
What’s that supposed to mean?
You’re predictable.
We don’t know each other, so how is that predictable?
He saw the typing bubble appear. Stop. Appear again. Stop.
Then, finally?—
I was told you were a pastor to talk to – which is why it’s predictable.
He blinked. So they did know something about him.
I see.
Yes, I am reading the Bible because it brings me comfort knowing there is something greater out there. I don’t feel so overwhelmed because it helps to know someone else is in control. Does that make sense?
A long pause.
I guess that would help—to know you weren’t abandoned.
Lucky you.
Louis felt something tighten in his chest. Two words— lucky you —laced with quiet bitterness, with the kind of pain people didn’t speak out loud unless they had no one else to hear them.
What do you mean?
I was abandoned a long time ago. I’m just picking up the pieces a little bit at a time as I go now.
He shut his eyes briefly. That hurt. Not because it was about him, but because he could feel it like it was bleeding through the screen.
I get feeling like that. But even if we don’t get the whole picture, there is a feeling of security and hope that still comes from it.
A pause. Then, a sharp response?—
Don’t preach at me, pastor.
Louis flinched. There was something in those words—something brittle, something barely holding itself together. He stared at the message, the silence between them stretching long and tense.
Fair enough. I was just sharing what makes me feel better. I hope you have a book that does the same for you.
He hesitated before adding?—
And I’m glad you spoke up if I said something that bothered you.
Another long silence.
Then—
I’m not shy and will not hesitate to speak up for myself ever again.
A small, unexpected smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
brAVO! I’m proud of you.
The minutes stretched long enough for Louis to glance back at his book, skimming the passage he had been reading. He had almost given up on getting a response when his phone vibrated again.
That means a lot.
Thank you.
His throat felt tight.
It’s true.
Now, go enjoy your book and relax.
You too.
Talk soon.
Anytime.
Louis let out a slow breath and set his phone down, staring at the ceiling for a long moment.
He didn’t know who this person was. Didn’t know where they were, what they looked like, or what battles they were fighting. Obviously, they knew him and wanted to keep their anonymity. He was starting to get the feeling that this person was struggling with an old pain that had never healed, eroding their confidence, especially when they thanked him.
I hope you don’t feel alone right now, he thought silently, because this has been really nice to have someone to talk to besides the guys in my squadron.
Looking around the room full of racks, he saw his friends busy doing different things in the peace of their bunks. Some had a book, a few were doing crosswords, one was listening to headphones, and while he was close to them, there was something different about texting this mysterious person that brought him joy for the first time in forever.
He truly enjoyed talking with whoever was on the other end of the text messages.