XLVII

SEARCH ME, O GOD, AND KNOW MY HEART; TRY ME, AND KNOW MY THOUGHTS

PSALM 139:23

SEVEN SALLIE (FATHER OF SEVENIA SALLIE GIRL PROPHETESS)

“She’s quite a girl,” my twin brother Six said with a sigh and then took a sip of coffee as we watched my daughter get into her car. She was off to help Destiny Knight-Storm with a hard case. Some stripper had tried to kill herself and was now on the run from an abusive boyfriend.

Six and Seven are actually our legal names, albeit middle. Six’s given first name is Simon, and mine is Sebastian. Both of our names might as well have been reversed. I can’t remember the last time someone called us by our first names in a serious manner. Maybe an aunt, or our cousin Brock occasionally does out of jest.

“She grew up fast,” I said.

“I think she might have been born grown up,” Six said and took another sip of coffee. “Having a conversation with her, I feel like I’m the younger one.”

“I know the feeling,” I replied and laughed. I recalled how not even a half hour ago, she caught me eves dropping on her and my brother as I was using a two way mirror in my closet. She scolded me and said we would talk about it later. It felt completely like a parental reversal. The mirth left my face and I winced. “Listen, Six, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Okay,” he said casually as he sipped more coffee. “Shoot.”

“I, um…” I began and then paused as we stared at each other.

“You um what?” Six asked.

“Why don’t I just show you.”

I led my brother to my bedroom. I opened the closet door and waved a hand.

“Is that a window in your closet?” he asked with a frown. He stepped up close and looked. He turned around with a fierce scowl. He stepped toward me and shoved me hard in the chest with both hands. “You spied on Sevenia and me?”

I raised my hands in surrender. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed heavily, and bowed his head as his shoulders slumped.

“Sorry,” I said quietly.

“You’re sorry!” he barked, raising his head with his eyes shooting angry lasers into mine. “What right do you have listening in on a private conversation?”

“I don’t,” I replied meekly. (A soft answers turns away wrath Proverbs 15:1). “You know, when it came out that you and Charlotte had an open marriage, I felt protective of Sevenia.”

“What, like I might molest her or something?” he asked bitterly.

“No, no, I just wanted to know what was being said. What my innocent little girl might being hearing.”

Six grunted, slapped a hand to his forehead, and sat down hard on the corner of my bed.

“Come on, Six. I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

“Yeah, right! You’re a professional blabber mouth!”

“Oh, like I’d say anything on my podcast.”

He arched an angry eyebrow at me.

“Or anyone else,” I said. “I promise.”

We had a long moment of awkward silence. Six sat completely still and somber.

“Listen, Six, I know you are uncomfortable having me know your secrets. I…”

“Do you!” He interrupted. “Despite how acceptance of alternative lifestyles has progressed in our culture, I never wanted to be out of the closet. I loved the secret Charlotte and I had. I got off on the fact that the world thought she was a beautiful woman. I don’t know how most bisexual men think, but for me, Charlotte was a dream come true. Even though I fell in love with Salena, and Charlotte and I talked of divorce. One of the main reasons, I, I…”

Six groaned and put his face in his hands.

“Look, Six, just like Sevenia told you. Knowing your secrets makes me feel closer to you.”

“Yeah, right,” he said, looking up and glaring at me, his right hand curled in a fist. “Why do I believe your daughter, but not you?”

“What do you mean?” I asked dumbly.

“If you have to ask,” he replied with a defeated tone.

I considered, not for the first time, how I might appear to family and old friends. Party animal, sarcastic, jokester, troublemaker, as a teenager. Married know it all holy roller in my early twenties. Divorced, boozehound, back sliding skirt chaser by the time I turned thirty. A multimillion followed broadcaster who exposed dirt and corruption on everyone.

Now I was a recommitted Christian as I rapidly approached forty. I still had a podcast, but I had lost a large percentage of listeners because I was no longer “sensational.” So I was still a wordsmith for a living, yet I groped for the right words to say to my own twin brother.

“Listen, Six, nobody will know your secret but Sevenia and me, I promise,” I said with a stammer.

“Yeah, well, what about Charlotte’s murder case? What if the detectives and medical examiner reveal to the media the truth of Charlotte? After all my twin brother is famous.”

“Not so much anymore,” I replied. “I lost most of my followers when I changed my format two years ago.”

Six snorted and shook his head. “You’re still not getting it. I guess, if the rest comes out, it doesn’t really even matter. According to your religion, I’m lost anyway.”

“That’s not true,” I barked. “My religion is always about hope. If you’re truly trying to follow Jesus, he will never leave you or forsake you (Hebrews 13:5 ). Also, He that began a good work in you will finish it (Philippians 1:6 ).

“Oh yeah, little brother,” my twin who was born first barked back even louder. “You are such a (profanity) hypocrite! You even have broadcast to millions, albeit in a subtle way, your escapades. Now my secrets are, are…”

Six put his face in his hands and groaned.

“You’re right, I am a hypocrite,” I said. “Or I was, I hope.”

He slowly lifted his head and looked at me. “What?”

“My sins are far worse than yours,” I said boldly. But then I quoted a Bible text that was more powerful about confidence in God. “Let us come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16).

My brother looked at me with a stunned expression. “Are you just saying that to sell me?”

“The only thing I’m trying to sell you is the way, the truth, and the life,” I said. (John 14:6) “And that’s Jesus Christ, the only way to salvation. The only path out of this dismal planet of death.”

We stared at each other for a long awkward moment.

“So you’re not judging me?” Six asked.

“Me?” I asked incredulous. “How can I possibly judge you, big bro? I’ve been the chiefest among sinners.”

“Wow,” he said quietly. “You really have changed.”

“What do you mean?” I asked with a frown.

“I mean, we’re not just brothers, we’re twins. I know what you are really like. When you became a religious zealot when we were, what, twenty, I wanted to shoot you. You were so incredibly annoying. But now you’re, ah, you’re, well, you’re actually like your daughter.”

“What’s my daughter like?” I asked, even though I knew any Christian father would love to see the Christ like character I see in my daughter. But as her father, I might be bias. I have been the most arrogant of men in my lifetime. I’m beyond humbled to claim my sweet Sevenia as the fruit of my loins. But I wanted to hear what my, and I say this gently, hedonistic twin brother had to say about her.

“She blows my mind,” he said softly. “She’s so sweet, wholesome and innocent. Yet she seems to have the wisdom of a grandmother.”

“So you think I have the wisdom of a grandmother?” I asked lightheartedly with raised, hopeful eyebrows. He started laughing and I immediately followed. Then he quickly switched to sobbing.

“I’m such a,” he began, and then listed a string of profanities. Then finished with, “I miss Charlotte so much.”

I put my arms around him and pulled him into myself. “I love you brother.”

When he finished crying, he looked at me in a daze. “Who are you?”

“Seven Sallie, the one who grabbed your heel as we left the womb. Like Jacob and Esau.”

“Who?” he asked with a frown.

“You know, from the Bible book Genesis.”

“Oh yeah, Jacob’s the father of Joseph. The dude with the coat of many colors.”

“Right.”

“It’s kind of funny. I’ve met countless Jacob’s in my life,” my brother said. “But never an Esau.”

“Me neither. Yet Jacob had his own faults. But he persevered. Then we have the story of Jacob’s ladder.”

“But wait a minute,” Six said with a scowl. “I’m Esau in this scenario.”

“You don’t have to be,” I said cheerfully. “This is the modern era. Either good times or the end times are around the corner.”

We both laughed, and then my phone chirped with a new text right when I was about to explain to my brother why we might be close to the second coming of Christ. It was from my first love of almost two decades ago, and my brother’s recent fling who was pregnant with his child.

“Why the consternation on thy face?” my brother asked jovially.

“Salena’s in my driveway.”

The mirth left my brother’s face as he swiped at a lazy tear and glared at me. “Did you invite her here?”

“No, No!” I said, and then winced. “But she has called me numerous times. She’s distraught Six. She’s having trouble with her teenage boys, she’s pregnant, and for some insane reason, she’s worried about you.”

“God help me,” Six said as he hung his head. He groaned and he put his face in his hands.

“Hey, you’re learning to pray,” I said happily.

He looked up at me incredulous, laughed and then hugged me fiercely. “I love you, little brother!”