Page 6 of Divine Sense
“Oh, please, he would have to get through Bailey to be able to do that and we all know he’s a little afraid of her.” Hank laughed under his helmet and waved as he pulled away.
After slipping off my jacket and draping it over the back of the front seat, I climbed into my G-Wagon and pulled out of the parking lot of my office. As I drove towards home, my mind drifted to the girl I almost ran over on Saturday for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
“Where the hell is Malcolm?”Conrad barked from the table, laying the die in the center of the board as I grabbed a beer from the fridge.
“Relax, Tolith, it’s not even seven thirty yet,” Hank sighed from his chair, calling Conrad by his character name. My friends and I have been playing Dungeons and Dragons, or in our vernacular, ‘D and D,’ for years now. We had a running campaign all throughout high school but had to stop playing when Hank left for bootcamp. Little did we know he’d be gone for so long and we wouldn’t be able to play again. As soon as he landed back in the Lowcountry, we picked back up on the weekly tradition. Getting together to play was our way to connect, hang out, and shoot the shit.
We would all sit around my dining room each Wednesday and drink beers while we played. As the Dungeon Master, I would spin the story and my friends would play in character. Malcolm played as Denis De Brey, a smooth-talking bard who would use his silver tongue to talk him and the other guys out of whatever mess they had walked into. Conrad, known as Tolith in the game, was an intelligent artificer, or creator, and would craft the tools and weapons they would need to escape a prison cell or fight off an ogre. Then there was Hank, our resident cleric known as Auffroy who carried the group and kept everyone safe. It was never lost on me how much my friend’s characters accurately represented their real-life personalities.
“I just don’t understand why people can’t show up on time. We meet at the same time each week,” Conrad mumbled from his chair.
“Conrad, you really need to learn how to breathe, it’s not good for your skin to be so stressed out all the time. Want me to give you a shoulder massage? I can see the tension you’re holding in them from here,” Bailey, Hank’s girlfriend, offered as she walked into the dining room from the kitchen with a glass of water. She’s been coming to our weekly campaign nights with Hank for months now, generally spending the evening in the other room reading a book. I thought she was funny and knew how crazy my friend was for her so it didn’t bother me having her around.
“No.” Conrad sat up straight and stiff in his chair, his face pinching up into an uncomfortable expression as she walked to stand behind him. “That is completely unnecessary. I’m fine.” He kept his eyes fixed on the center of the table and I barked out a laugh at how uncomfortable he looked. It took Conrad a long time to warm up to Bailey and be okay with her coming each week. That’s just how Conrad is though—he prefers a routine and doesn’t like when anyone or anything throws it off. Their relationship was hilarious to witness as it had developed into a sort of brother/sister thing. Bailey would say something to make him squirm and he would do a less-than-stellar job trying to cover up his discomfort. Hank, Malcolm, and I just let it happen because we found it funny as hell.
“I’d take a massage from you,” Malcolm’s smooth voice came from the hallway. He walked towards where we were sitting at the table with a slick grin as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. Malcolm was a lady’s man through and through and wasn’t afraid to make it known. For years my friends and I watched him love a woman for a weekend just to cut her loose by Monday. It wasn’t his best character trait but we still loved him for everything else he was. Smart, funny, and loyal to all of us. His style definitely wasn’t my style, but that’s okay.
“Malcolm, don’t be an ass.” Bailey rolled her eyes before walking to stand behind Hank, draping an arm around his shoulder and planting a kiss on the side of his cheek.
“What? You offered Conrad a massage, so why not me?” His voice was all tease, but we all rolled our eyes at him anyway.
“You’re late. Sit down and stop flirting with my girlfriend you asshat,” Hank snapped from his seat. “Way to put him in his place, hermosa?*,” he hummed into her ear.
“It’s not even seven thirty,” Malcolm exclaimed, looking at the watch he was wearing.
“Just sit down before Conrad has a coronary about not starting on time and Hank takes a baseball bat to your knees for hitting on his girl,” I demand, trying to get the night started. Malcolm sat down with a huff and looked at me like a dejected five year old.
“You still love me, right Kolb?” He gave me an animated look of sadness, doing what he did best, which was being overly dramatic when we were ganging up on him.
“Yes, brother, I do.” I slapped a hand down hard onto his shoulder. “Even when you’re being an annoying asshole.” Everyone around the table laughed and Bailey gave Hank another kiss before leaving the table to go and read.
Over the next few hours, I spun a story for my friends to play. I loved getting to be the Dungeon Master because it allowed me to tap into my family heritage. As a proud Gullah Geechee man, storytelling is part of who I am. My grandparents may have told different kinds of stories than the ones I tell now, but the art of storytelling was ingrained in me. And to me, there was nothing better than having to spin a story for other people to have to adapt to as you told it. Within D and D, it was a back-and-forth between the player and Dungeon Master. They had to adapt to my story just as much as I had to adapt to how they responded.My friends and I communicated best through this game and always lost track of time once we got into it.
“Good shit!” Malcolm exclaimed when Conrad rolled enough to free him from the prison cell I had trapped him in.
“With that roll,” I started, “you freed your company companion and escaped into the woods unharmed.”
“Hey, guys,” Hank started. I looked at him to find him craning his neck, looking towards the room where Bailey was. “I don’t mean to be a buzz kill, but can we wrap it up soon? Looks like my girl is done for the night.”
The three of us stood from the table to look in on her and sure enough, she was curled up on the couch fast asleep. When she shared her story with us earlier this fall, we all felt this need to protect her as if she were ours, even Conrad, though he would never admit to that. She brought our friend more joy and contentment than I’d ever seen in him and I’d known the guy since we were in third grade.
“Holy shit, it’s after midnight already,” Conrad exclaimed, looking at his phone. Hank stood from the table and I watched him as he moved towards his girl, leaned down next to her, and brushed the hair out of her face. She stirred and gave him a tired smile before he kissed her gently on the forehead. My heart squeezed watching their interaction and for the first time, I realized how much I wanted the same thing for myself. Work had kept me busy the last five years and I never had more than a casual hookup here and there. Watching one of my closest friends have the kind of relationship I’d been lacking made me recognize how much I wanted it for myself.
“Let’s pack it in, boys,” I commented, standing from the table and collecting the empty glasses to take to the kitchen. Malcolm and Conrad cleaned up the board and game pieces as Hank and Bailey came back into the dining room. We made plans to meet up this weekend at the bar Malcolm worked at and agreed toharass him while he worked. After he flipped us off, he and the others left and my house was empty once more.
And for the first time in years, I noticed just how much the emptiness bothered me.
* beautiful
5
KOLBI
When the alarm started blaring early the next morning, I slapped it off with my hand. The tiny alarm clock didn’t stand a chance against it. At almost six foot five, I towered over most people and had a few inches on each of my friends. I slid out of bed and walked into my closet, the motion-sensor lights flickering on in my presence.
When I bought my historic downtown home two years ago, I had it completely restored to its original design but had a few modifications I fought tooth and nail for with the Charleston Preservation Society. One of those modifications was expanding the closet and customizing it with motion-sensor lights, pull-out hanging racks, and floor to ceiling shelves. Why my need for an extra six feet of closet space was such a big deal to them, I’ll never know. But after some sweet-talking and a deal to cover some of their city’s most cherished historical items through my company, I got what I wanted.
Growing up I had next to nothing. My family came from honest backgrounds and my parents worked for everything we had. Living on the outskirts of town, I shared a 900-square-foothome with three sisters, my grandparents, and both my parents until I went to college. For most of my life, I slept on a twin-sized mattress on the floor until my youngest sister was born, and then I offered to sleep on the couch so she could have a bed. My clothes were all hand-me-downs from my father or cousins who lived near us and it wasn’t uncommon for me to wear my shoes until they had holes in them. As soon as I was old enough to work, I did, and I put away everything I earned to pay my way through college. Even during my time in school, I worked multiple jobs to be able to keep studying and get a degree. After I graduated, I took a leap of faith to start my own company. Thankfully that faith paid off and my company was breaking almost ten million dollars a year.
