Rainbow Bright Jesus
Some people find God in church pews, others in quiet contemplation before bed. Ronald, naturally, finds Him in free throws.
The basketball court sat on the edge of a tired suburban neighbourhood, the kind where every house had a chain-link fence and at least one questionable lawn ornament leaning crooked in the tall grass.
The afternoon was brisk, the kind of crisp that promised a clear evening but still smelled faintly of a recent thunderstorm.
Sneakers squeaked against the cracked asphalt, sharp and rubbery, and the hollow swoosh of a ball slipping through the chain net was followed by cheering coos that were equal parts congratulatory and cruel.
A pack of pigeons, clearly ruffled, launched themselves into the sky with a furious flutter.
Ronald imagined faith would be like a feeling.
He hadn’t been converted yet and he wondered if it would feel like the moment before a basketball leaves your hand–that perfect second when you hope, against all odds, that it’s going in.
Ronald smiled as he saw his date and walked off the court to join them.
Soon, he and Carrington stood together against the chain-link fence, close enough for their elbows to brush.
Ronald wore basketball shorts, high-tops, and the same smug ease that carried him through most situations in life.
Carrington, meanwhile, had taken an unusual step for the occasion; they’d sacrificed their acrylic nails and upscale business attire in favour of a sleek athleisure set that somehow still looked more Paris runway than municipal courtyard.
Carrington leaned into the fence, their glossy green eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses.
“I’m so glad you asked me out Ronald,” they said, their voice a syrupy mix of relief and delight.
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to. And whether this date goes well or if there’s a second one or if we go ice skating later and you trip and fall into my arms, none of that has any impact on you getting a cash per diem and vacation days for Hanukkah and Christmas.
I can and will separate work and my love life. ”
Ronald grinned, “That’s why I was hesitant, Carrington. I waited a few days so I could sort it all through in my mind. I wasn’t just playing hard to get.”
Carrington tipped their sunglasses down just enough to peer at him, “I wasn’t sure if I was getting the two-day cool guy delay or if I was being brushed off.”
“I just didn’t want to have blurred lines,” Ronald admitted. Then, as if confessional booths were suddenly in session, he added, “Speaking of, I’m poly and pan. I’m also dating other people.”
Carrington didn’t so much as flinch, “That’s fine! I’m second on my curling team and we have so many bonspiels this winter. Casual dating is all my calendar allows for right now.”
Ronald relaxed, “Cool. So, you like sports, too?”
“Absolutely!” Carrington said brightly. “I thought your idea of playing horse on our first date was really endearing.”
“Having dates in places that are familiar to me sets me at ease,” Ronald explained. “I appreciate you rising to the challenge.”
“I took off my acrylics and I’m ready for any challenge you toss at me. Except three-pointers. I can’t throw the ball that far,” they paused, lips curling into a grin, “unless I can do a granny shot?”
Ronald chuckled, “Sure. I’ll allow it. Let’s start going around the horseshoe. The goal is to match each other shot for shot. If I get one and then you miss, you get a letter. If you miss enough to spell horse, I win. Same goes for you.”
“And if we go all the way?” Carrington tilted their head, playfully.
“Well,” Ronald said slowly as he considered, “there should be a prize, right?”
“I think so,” Carrington agreed. “Maybe a first kiss?”
Ronald laughed, shaking his head, but his grin was wide, “Well, now I’m feeling inspired. Don’t mess up.”
“You either!” Carrington shot back as they stepped onto the court.
The game began with a rhythmic dribble, dribble, swoosh!
“Your turn,” Ronald said, stepping back to give Carrington space to shoot.
Carrington dribbled, their movements cautious but determined.
Dribble, dribble, swoosh! The ball fell neatly through the chain net.
They clapped once and then, as if remembering the other part of their life, said, “I’m sorry you were on hold for so long when you called to ask me out.
The switchboard has just been nuts since Trinity hit the airwaves at WWJD. ”
“It’s okay,” Ronald said. “The hold music is kind of aggressive though. For a chant? I thought monks were supposed to be chill.”
Carrington rolled their eyes, “It is a bit of a forceful song. Maybe we can consider changing it. Maybe a Trinity song?”
“I mean…” Ronald shrugged, “I think callers would rather be on hold with us. But I’m new to all this. You’re the expert. You’re up.”
Again, Carrington methodically prepared and executed. Dribble, dribble, swoosh!
“Nothing but net!” they said proudly. “How new to all this are you? The Christianity, I mean.”
Ronald pursed his lips, counting on his fingers, “Well, I’ve been a Christian now for about six… ummm, six, maybe seven days? And it’s changed my life completely.”
Carrington, impressed despite themself, asked, “How so? You were agnostic when you performed at the Not Short on Talent talent show. And you were still agnostic when we first met in the WWJD lobby, right? What happened?”
Ronald dribbled, then shot. Another swoosh! “I met Rebekkah and Japheth. And little by little I’m just feeling different. Better. A lot of what they say is strange, sure. But some of it really makes sense. I just follow that part and focus on what I understand for now.”
“You said you feel better,” Carrington pressed. “Are you approaching things differently than before?”
“My daily routine is totally different now,” Ronald explained. “I’ll get up, come down to the court, and do five free throws. And if I don’t make five in a row, Jesus won’t let me finish the day. That’s what I like to call Hoops for Jesus.”
Carrington blinked, “You didn’t play basketball in the morning before you became a Christian?”
“No, I did.”
“So, now you just do it for… Jesus?”
“Yeah, well… yeah,” Ronald said sheepishly. “But there’s lots of other things I do too. Like I read that big book every day. The thick one with all the Jesus stories?”
“The Bible?” Carrington clarified.
“Yeah, the Bible!” Ronald grinned, “And it’s a great read, you know?
Like, it’s a funny book overall. Yesterday, I was reading about how Jesus took all those animals on that boat with Him.
You have got to be Jesus Christ to put two of every animal in the world on a boat.
I’m pretty sure no one else could do that. ”
Carrington’s brow furrowed, “Wasn’t that…”
But Ronald was already celebrating another shot. “Yes! We’re well matched!”
“I’d say so,” Carrington agreed.
“Yeah, Jesus was like 600 years old when he built that big boat. He was no Spring chicken, okay? Since I’m trying to be like Jesus in every way, I’ve decided to build an ark, too.
You never know when it could rain like that again.
And there are lots of cats in my neighborhood.
They could probably use a lift. I just don’t know which ones I should pick to take with me.
I mean, how do you tell a cat it can’t get on the boat? They might just jump on.”
“Cats are very agile,” Carrington said with authority.
“And clever,” Ronald added. “And they don’t like rules.”
“True. It would be difficult to negotiate with a cat and convince them not to get on a boat.”
“I know!” Ronald said, exasperated. “That’s another example of why Jesus is Jesus and I’m just Ronald. He figured it out.”
Carrington’s voice softened, “You’re not just Ronald.”
And then it happened. Dribble, dribble, swoosh! Twice over.
Ronald froze. “Did we just…”
Carrington’s eyes widened, “We just went all the way around the horseshoe! No way!”
“Now that’s how you play horse!” Ronald declared.
Carrington’s lips curved into a smile, “May I collect my prize?”
Ronald raised a brow, teasing, “Yeah, sure. It’s back at my place. You have to see it to believe it.”
Carrington leaned forward, their sunglasses catching the sun just right to shoot off even more sparks between them, “I have no doubts.”
And as they walked off the court, pigeons circling back down to reclaim their asphalt kingdom, one question lingered like the last echo of a bouncing ball in the minds of Carrington and Ronald.
Carrington spun the ball once more on their fingertip before letting it drop, catching it against their hip and wondered to themself, was this streak of chemistry a one-off, or did these players have the stamina to go all the way to the relationship playoffs?
Neither of them moved toward the gate. It wasn’t hesitation exactly. More like… neither one wanted to be the first to end something that had barely even started.
Ronald finally nodded toward the street. “I’m just a couple blocks that way, if you…?”
Carrington was already slinging their bag over their shoulder. “Lead on, point guard.”
He laughed at that, ducking his head slightly as they fell into step beside each other. The walk started easy. Familiar, even, in that strange way something brand new sometimes does. Their shoulders brushed once. Then again. Neither apologized.
Streetlights flickered on overhead, one by one, casting long stretches of gold across the sidewalk.
Carrington noticed the way Ronald walked, loose but grounded, like he still had a game rhythm in him.
Ronald noticed the way Carrington talked with their hands, animated and sharp and completely unselfconscious.
His noticing didn’t end there. He took in the curve of their smile. The quickness of their wit. The way they looked at him directly, like they weren’t afraid of what they might find there. He cleared his throat, glancing down for a second then started to find a song,
“Against all odds, we stumbled,
Like shadows in the dark.