Page 127 of Bless This Hot Mess

“On the waves featuring no static,

we are slightly problematic.

We’re out here fishing for the Lord,

tune your hearts and climb onboard!”

LISTEN to Tune Your Hearts, Climb On Board

“This is the Trinity Radio Hour plus friends, for the first time on FM radio,” Ronald chimed in. “Coming to you live from a structurally sound, safety-inspected, definitely built to weather storms, high seas studio.”

Suwarna coughed meaningfully.

“We’re floating here with all laws respectfully acknowledged and doing our best due diligence to follow them, though we kindly seek your forgiveness if we’ve missed anything as we’re still covered in a lot of sawdust from our recent renovations and resurrection from AM to FM station,” Japheth followed up.

“I’m Ronald, your friendly neighbourhood poly, pansexual, ex-agnostic, hoop-driver, dunk-slammer, and part time carpenter of Arks and nativity sets,” Ronald grinned.

“I’m Rebekkah,” she said, “you’re prophet-in-progress, hair-don’t cautionary tale, and local songstress dragging Jesus into the Top 40 whether He likes it or not.”

“And rounding us out, because ask my boyfriend, he’ll tell you there’s nothing straight about me, I’m Japheth,” he said. “I’m your resident recovering fry cook, future saint of sustainabletransportation, and enthusiastic believer that love is love is love and that God is all around us playing hide-and-go-seek in everyday objects so keep those peepers peeled!”

“In one corner,” Rebekkah added, “we have the best dressed engineer this side of the Sea of Galilee, Carrington!”

“Hi darlings,” Carrington purred into their mic. “Let it be known I am operating the soundboard in a full wind suit and my face is full beat. If you listen really closely, you can probably hear it.”

“And off-mic but always in charge,” Japheth said, “we have our CFO-slash-CEO-slash moral compass and carrying an actual compass, Suwarna!”

“Please do not say moral compass and allude to illegal frequency in the same intro segment,” Suwarna scolded and shyly spoke into a mic, “Hello. I will be handling your complaints and hoarding your compliments. You’re welcome in advance, this show is going to knock your knickers off.”

“And outside,” Ronald said, glancing out the porthole, “leaning against the hull, is our presenting sponsor, unofficial guardian angel, and very much off the market man who can elicit an appreciative moan just by sauntering into a room… Mr. Rino Ferrari.”

Rino, hearing his name over the megaphone speaker they’d rigged on the mast of the boat for the benefit of the crowd, gave a little bow and kissed his fingers before raising them to the sky.

“For legal reasons, and to once and for all clear the air and sweep away any misinformation, disinformation, or contradictory commentary,” Suwarna elbowed her way back in front of the mic, “we would like to note that Mr. Ferrari and his family are not mobsters, arsonists, or villains of any kind, though his cologne is criminally addictive.”

“Today,” Rebekkah said, “we’re going to sing some songs,spill some tea, likely cry a little, and hopefully present a compelling argument that faith can rise to the surface and keep you lifted up even when everything you used to believe starts to sink.”

Halfway through the hour, as Japheth adjusted a mic and tried not to trip over a coil of cable, Carrington’s cell phone rang and everyone froze for a moment and Suwarna leaned over to ask in a hushed voice, “I didn’t think we were going to share the request line until we knew for certain we’d get through today’s broadcast without, you know, sinking.”

“Maybe it’s God, I bet he gets lonely sometimes. Nobody callin’ on the phone,” Rebekkah murmured, “Except for the pope maybe in Rome.”

“Or CSIS!” Ronald guessed.

“Or, you know, thinking optimistically,” Carrington said, reaching for the phone and drawing it to their ear, “an advertiser. Hello, you’ve reached ninety-six point five The ARK. How may we be of service?”

A bright, chipper voice poured through the earpiece. Carrington listened, penciled eyebrows climbing incrementally toward their hairline. “Yes. Uh-huh. Mailing movies? To people’s homes. On DVDs? And they… mail them back? Fascinating. So that would mean if I was invested in Blockbuster, I might want to… uh-huh. Yes, call my broker. Oh! Yes, Trinity can absolutely read that on air. Yes, if you’d like it on today’s show, it’s double our usual rate which is…? Three-thousand dollars.”

“Three-thousand dollars!” Suwarna gasped. “They’ll never… Carrington, what are you doing!?”

Carrington covered the receiver with their hand, “They’re some kind of subscription-based movie club. Like BMG for DVD. They want a thirty-second ad during our next break.”

“Another cold read?” Rebekkah moaned. “I barely survived the last one and Japheth got his heart broken.”

“But he also got his heart-on pretty quickly after,” Ronald winked. “With Rino.”

“Yeah, I followed you Mr. Subtlety,” Rebekkah shook her head but smiled across the table.

“They’re mailing movies?” Japheth whispered, enthralled. “Through Canada Post? That’s adorable and sounds kinda cool. I love getting stuff in the mail.”