God is in the Fish Fry

1987

Henry was sure by now his son would realize he couldn’t get anything past his him. Shawn had this jittery upper lip that wobbled all over the place when he was up to no good. It was an old interrogation trick he’d learned right out of the academy. Figure out the liar’s tell and use it for ammunition later if the doer got cute with his story. The only difference between them and the kid currently lip wobbling in his kitchen was few feet of height and the possibility of tears.

The doer’s, not his kid.

It was Sunday morning and Shawn was wearing an old suit his mother bought before she left. The jacket was too short and the pants looked like they’re cutting into his gut, but Henry refuse to acknowledge the get up. That would have given Shawn what he wanted, since he undoubtedly had some well crafted lie all cooked up and ready to fly.

"Dad, can I borrow a tie?"

Henry lowered his newspaper. Unlike the last guy he collared, Shawn didn’t flinch when he tried to stare him down. "You want to borrow one of my ties?"

"Yes." Shawn tugged at the tight pants. "Gus’s mom invited me to church."

"Ha!" Henry threw the paper on the table. "That’s a good one Shawn. You want to go to church?"

"Gus goes every Sunday. Besides, she said she was worried about my soul. Why don’t you worry about my soul dad?"

The kid was getting irritating and the game was about to start. Henry decided to put an end to the performance before Shawn made him miss the kickoff. "Fine, you can borrow a tie."

"Thank you." Shawn turned around and Henry cleared his throat.

"Why’d you decide to go this Sunday son?"

Shawn hesitated. The lip was wobbling like crazy and Henry tried to resist the urge to glare. "I don’t know. It’s the first Sunday, so I thought it’d be a good time to start."

"First Sunday." Henry crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at the ceiling. "Let’s see…churches do communion on first Sundays right?"

He shrugged. "I guess."

"Right—you do know Gus’s mom is Baptist don’t you?"

Shawn narrowed his eyes. He knew this was going somewhere he wouldn’t like.

"So?"

"So Baptists don’t drink alcohol. They use grape juice, not wine."

Shawn visibly deflated, the lip wobble instantly gone. The jacket was thrown on the floor and he sat down at the table, his chin cradled in one hand.

"Never mind about the tie."

Henry patted him on the shoulder. "I’ll grab your soul some Juicy Juice at the supermarket tomorrow."

Present Day

"Just so I get this straight, what you’re referring to is a gathering of parishioners around large vats of cooking grease and not the grainy dry good?" Shawn raised one eyebrow. Gus had been oddly cheerful ever since he got to the office, not even bothering to sweep the hot cocoa powder Shawn spilled on his laptop away before turning it on. It was unsettling; even more so when Gus invited him to some church hoedown.

Shindig.

Hootenanny.

"It’s a church picnic Shawn."

Shawn raised one finger. "Ah, ah…you said fish fry. Now, if I were to accept this half hearted and…" He glanced at the clock. "Tardy invitation, I need to know exactly what I’m walking into. Churches can be creepy."

"What’s creepy about a church?"

Shawn leaned forward. "Have you seen The Seventh Sign? I’m sorry, but I will not give my life for him."

"Are you really comparing a church fish fry to Demi Moore giving birth to the last sign of the apocalypse?"

"We have the same jaw line." Shawn tilted his head to show off his profile. "See? Very angular, it’s weird."

Gus closed the laptop and finally swept the chocolate powder away. "Whatever Shawn—Second Baptist of the Shekinah Glory is my new church home. My name is carved into the bottom of the choir stand, right next to the black baby Jesus."

"Second Baptist of the Shickahaha whaaaaa?"

"Shekinah. It’s Hebrew for the dwelling or settling and is typically used to refer to the presence of God. You’d know that if you didn’t spend every Sunday morning adding articles to Wikipedia."

"That’s a public service. I mean seriously, nothing on Dale Midkiff’s brilliant turn on Time Trax? You’d think his life began with Love Come Softly."

"Are you coming or not Shawn?"

Shawn paused and picked up juice box. He savored the cran-apple zing a moment before answering. "Will Joy be there?"

Gus narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Just asking."

"Why?"

"Cause I wanna know."

"Why do you wanna know?"

"Because I don’t know."

"You don’t need to know."

"Oh, I think I need to know."

"No you don’t."

"Maybe I don’t."

"Yes you-"Gus closed his mouth and glared. "Leave my sister alone."

Shawn sighed. "I thought we got past this at Christmas Gus. Joy and I had a combustible chemistry that couldn’t be denied." He paused. "Or we would have if she’d called me."

Gus stood up and grinned. "Ha," he said. "You got blown off."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "I didn’t get blown off." He threw the juice box away and followed Gus to the front door. "She’s a lawyer, I’m sure she’s busy with cases…"

"She’s on vacation." Gus opened the door and Shawn walked close behind.

"Well, she’s probably visiting relatives…"

"Our cousins are in Cleveland and Crazy Uncle Veebo had his bail revoked last week."

Shawn watched as Gus pulled out his car keys. "Crazy Uncle Veebo?" He shook his head. "Whatever, I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why Joy never…is his first name really Crazy or did that just get tacked on over time?"

"She’s seeing someone else Shawn."

Gus opened the driver’s side door and climbed inside. Shawn watched as he turned on the ignition, slowly processing the fact that once again, he’d been blindsided by a Guster. The Christmas confession was bad enough, but now Joy was seeing someone else?

"Unacceptable."

Gus rolled down the window. "So are you coming?"

Shawn nodded. "Let’s go save some fish."

"Eat fish."

"That too."

--

The first thing Shawn noticed when they pulled into the parking lot was the spires. The tall dark cones loomed above them, nearly blocking out the sun and poking the sky like five gigantic hypodermic needles filled with fire and brimstone.

"That’s hell."

Shawn looked at Gus. "Excuse me?"

"Fire and brimstone is hell, not heaven. Has it really been that long since you went to church?"

Shawn stopped walking. "Dude, tell me I said that out loud because I’m already creeped out enough as it is."

"There’s the Reverend." Gus waved at someone over Shawn’s shoulder. He turned around to see a heavyset black man, wearing a navy blue suit with tuffs of white hair springing from his ears. He slapped Gus’s arm.

"Why didn’t you tell me Benson was your preacher?’

"That’s not Robert Guillaume, its Reverend Thompson, my Sunday school teacher." Gus smiled. "He sings bible versus to music, all the way to Revelations." Shawn lifted an eyebrow. Gus glanced at Reverend Thompson and nodded. "Okay so it was scary towards the end, but it worked. I can still sing Psalm 23 to the theme from Shaft."

Shawn pointed to a funnel cake stand. "Dude, there’s Joy."

Joy waved in their direction. She looked good, really good in fact, which wasn’t what he expected at all. Most women with broken hearts tend to let themselves go during the grieving process. There should have been swollen eyes, or at least an unfortunate set of sweatpants.

"Hey Gus." Joy kissed Gus’s cheek. Shawn offered his own face, eyes lifted to the sky. She patted his shoulder with a laugh.

"Joy." Shawn studied her face for signs of tension, lingering pangs of…something. "So, it’s been a while."

"Yes, it has." Joy nodded and turned to Gus. "Hey, mom wanted to know if you brought the camera."

"I thought you were bringing the camera."

"I don’t take pictures, why would I bring a camera?"

"Um, excuse me?" Shawn stared at them with wide eyes. "Are we seriously pretending there isn’t an awkward moment the size a baby elephant sitting on this conversation right now?"

"Awkward moment?" Joy shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

"You’re a very cold woman, you know that? Is this a side effect of wallowing in all that juras…juris…jur…" He looked at Gus. "Isn’t this when you usually jump in?"

"Get a dictionary."

Joy touched Shawn’s arm and moved closer. "Shawn," she said, lowering her voice. "You’re not still hung up on what happened between us are you? I thought..." She paused and looked over her shoulder, for her new boyfriend most likely. Was that a hint a fear he saw in her eyes, a bit of spittle on her lip indicating nerves, apprehension, the inability to…swallow correctly? "I thought we decided to move on."

"I have moved on," Shawn said, though with a slight Vaderish-growl that he hadn’t intended. "Seriously, I was just concerned about you." He chucked her arm with a weak fist. "No hard feelings."

Joy smiled. "Okay, great."

"I mean, I’ve got a girlfriend now. Did you know I had a girlfriend?"

"Gus told me."

"Her name’s Abigail." Shawn paused, nodding. "Yeah, things are great, great. I mean the sex? Wow."

"Shawn," Gus snapped. "Didn’t you say you wanted a funnel cake?"

"No."

"Do you want a funnel cake?"

"Naw, I’m not hungry."

"How ‘bout some fish?"

"To eat?"

Gus frowned. "Yes, to eat."

"Oh." Shawn paused. "Still not hungry."

Gus grabbed his arm and moved closer to the funnel cake stand. Shawn’s nose was assaulted by a mix of powdered sugar and bacon grease, which was surprisingly pleasant, like a Waffle House country breakfast platter.

Maybe he was hungry.

"Are you done harassing her?"

"Dude, I was not harassing her. We were bonding, the way two people who shared an intimate moment sometimes do."

"Would you please stop reminding me that you slept with my sister?"

Shawn paused, his eyes fixed on a steaming funnel cake. He followed its path from vendor to napkin, to wide eyed Asian kid standing a few feet away.

"I did sleep with her."

"I know that."

"I thought you were cool with it."

"No." Gus shook his head. "No, I accepted the fact that it happened, there’s a difference."

Shawn stepped to the right, near the fish tent, as the sign claimed. There were large vats of grease with catfish simmering inside. A man picked up a filet and laid it across a slice of bread.

"What’s the difference?"

"The difference is that I can’t change what’s in the past Shawn. But the memory’s hard to repress with you bringing it up every five minutes."

Shawn watched the man spread mustard across the fish and top it with another slice of bread. He handed the plate to a customer.

"Oh my god."

Gus turned to follow Shawn’s gaze. "What? What happened?"

"There are bones in that man’s sandwich."

Gus turned around as Shawn sidestepped him, determined to stop the abomination from leaving the tent. He felt Gus grab his arm.

"It’s a plate, not a sandwich."

"I know what a plate is. I’m talking about what’s on top."

"No, I mean, he’s not gonna bite into it Shawn. That’s just how they serve the fish."

Shawn watched the man walk away with the offending entree in hand. He turned to look at Gus. "I want go home, this place creeps me out."

"What, a plate of fish?"

"I know what I saw Gus." Shawn pointed to the vendor. "That man made a sandwich with…bones inside and you’re standing there telling me that it’s okay. Well it’s not okay, it’s… all wrong." Shawn paused and looked over Gus’s shoulder. He saw Joy hugging someone, tall and lanky, wearing a melodramatic pair of gold aviator sunglasses. She pulled them from his face revealing a pasty complexion honed by hours under interrogation lights.

Shawn pointed towards them with a trembling finger. "Speaking of wrong."

Gus spun around as Joy leaned in to kiss Carlton Lassiter’s lips.

--

"You didn’t tell them?"

Lassiter asked the question with a slight smile, as though the fact that he was pawing Gus’s sister was all some big joke. What kind of loser rubs a guy’s face in something like that?

"I didn’t have a chance." Joy looked at her brother whose skin had paled to ashy brown. He hadn’t seen Gus this upset since NASA announced they were putting off more moon exploration indefinitely. "We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now."

"Wait…wait." Shawn pointed to Lassiter. "You’re seriously dating this man?"

"Yes she is Spencer," Lassiter said. "We met at the precinct remember?"

"You remember, right Gus?" Joy said.

Gus didn’t respond. There was a faint hissing sound, air escaping his lips. He was still breathing but just barely.

"No seriously Joy, what’s going on?" Shawn looked back and forth between them. "I mean, what could you possibly have in common?"

"We’re both agents of the law," Lassiter offered, jaw raised in an angry-cop-jut. "Joy has great respect for justice, and so do I."

"Oh come on, Lassie, really? Since when does playing "Tip the Hobo," qualify as justice?"

"You know, that’s your problem Spencer. You’ve never been able to accept the fact that not everyone sees law enforcement the same way you do."

"Oh yeah, and what way is that?"

"Murdering rainbows and thieving puppies."

"That makes absolutely no sense. How can you be killed by a rainbow?"

"JOY SLEPT WITH SHAWN!’

Shawn turn to see that Gus’s face had gone slack, his skin slowly returning to its normal toasty brown. Lassiter’s face, on the other hand, slowly turned a deep shade of fire-engine red. He looked at Shawn, who could only shrug. Joy’s mouth fell open when he turned accusatory eyes in her direction.

"Oh hell no. Do not look at me like that."

Lassiter looked at Shawn, pivoted on one foot and began stalking towards his police cruiser. Joy stepped forward and punched Gus in the arm.

"OW!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She shook her head and hurried after Lassiter. Shawn watched her walk away and then turned to look at Gus.

"I thought you were trying to suppress the memory."

Gus sighed. "Yeah, but this one took higher priority."

They watched Lassiter jabbed his finger in Shawn’s direction while Joy yelled at him from the other side of the car.

"By this one, you mean Joy having sex with Lassie right?"

"Shut up Shawn."

The End