A good friend of mine, whom I really respect and, well, loved, is dead.
I saw him last Thursday night. We had dinner and it was a good time — up until he told me that he was in trouble even though he didn’t do anything wrong. There was a group of guys near his work that were causing trouble and looking for him.
He didn’t always work in the best part of town. He was a good man. No wonder they knew him and didn’t like him. He was a guy you could trust. He had wisdom even for his young age. I called him a mentor. We all considered him a friend.
That’s why it was upsetting to know he was being stalked. I didn’t want to leave dinner Thursday night and go our separate ways. I was just too tired to stay awake.
The phone rang Friday morning. It was that kind of ring that you just know something is wrong. His stalkers found him last night and shot him. He was in ICU but there wasn’t much that could be done. He died Friday morning.
It’s not just that I lost a mentor. It’s not just that I lost a friend. I had a lot of faith in him and now I just don’t know what will happen. And to top it all off his stalkers know who I am. They’ve seen me and know we were friends. I can’t help but wonder what their next move will be.
I suppose Monday I’ll go back to my life at work hoping to make sense of it all — hoping that these stalkers will leave me alone. I’ll be watching my back, that’s for sure.
So yes, I know what Saturday feels like. Saturday is empty, scary, and confusing. Faith has taken a hit. So now I wait for Monday.
Unless something miraculous happens on Sunday…