The Trinity Game

it. Already had to hire three more phone banks to handle calls. We’re drawing a million every couple hours, ’round the clock, praise God.”
    What the fuck?
    “You can’t possibly think I find this in any way impressive,” Daniel said, keeping his voice even. Trinity’s smile lost an inch; he’d just been insulted in front of his people. “And how did you know I was on that flight?”
    The smile returned to full wattage. Trinity gestured to the floor-to-ceiling windows, to the sun-baked city, seventy-five stories down. “It ain’t just those people in tents. In the short time you’ve been gone, we have experienced a
paradigm shift
, my boy. I simply called my new friend, Senator Paul Guyot—who sits on the Homeland Security Committee—and asked him to let me know if your name showed up on a passenger list to Atlanta. Piece of cake. Like I said: We Big Time, baby, we on a roll.”
    “I just flushed my life down the fucking toilet for you!” Daniel shouted. “For
this
?”
    The entire room fell to silence.
    The television news channels all ran together on low volume, combining to make a white noise of background blather, punctuated with words such as
Trinity…Atlanta…Miracle…
    Trinity raised his hands to encompass everyone in the suite. “Ladies and gentlemen, my nephew is upset. We need some time. Please, give us the room.”
    “Yes, sir,” said Samson from the doorway. Everyone filed out quietly, and Samson followed suit, closing the door behind.
    Trinity crossed to the bar, switched the television off. He poured Blanton’s into a couple of rocks glasses, added ice from the freezer, handed one of the glasses to Daniel. He spoke quietly. “You didn’t flush your life down the toilet for me, son. You flushed it to find the truth. And the truth is, you didn’t flush it at all. Hell, you’ve been a priest for all the wrong reasons—”
    “Don’t,” said Daniel. “Just, don’t. You are the last person on earth who gets to analyze me. And while we’re on the subject, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop calling me
son
.”
    “Ouch,” whispered Trinity. He drank down the bourbon, nodded sadly to himself, and spoke into his ice. “OK, I laid it on a little thick when you arrived, I admit that. Just wanted you to see a lot of people believe in me. I mean, believe God is at work in me.” He looked straight at Daniel. “I know you think I’m a con man, and yes, I am…I was. But things are different now. Now I believe. Not saying I been saved or born again or any of that jazz. Just that now I know there
is
a God. A good God. And I don’t have a clue why, but He wants to use me for something. Something important.”
    “What, he wants you to be
Big Time
?
On a roll? Drawing millions?
Well, excuse me while I call bullshit on that.”
    “No, no, no, that’s all just the theater of it, you’re missin’ the purpose. And the money’s just a side-effect, I swear.”
    “Then what is the purpose?”
    “Don’t know.” Trinity put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, just as he’d done at Judas’s backyard funeral. “But I do know He wantsyou here with me. Had me a dream last night. God told me He wants you at my right hand.”
    “Now He talks to you in dreams?”
    “I think He did last night. Maybe He…maybe He wants you here, to keep me on the narrow path.” He let out a wry chuckle, “You, of all people, know that ain’t gonna be easy for a guy like me, and I sure could use your help. And your advice.”
    “My first advice is to tell you to stop acting like a carnival barker.”
    Trinity shrugged. “Tough habit to break after thirty-nine years. I’m working on it. Like I said, it’s the theater of the thing. But I need advice about the deeper stuff, the stuff I don’t understand. Hell, I got US senators callin’, asking
my
advice. I gotta go in front of the cameras tomorrow and talk to the
whole world
…” he rattled the ice in his glass, “…and I don’t know what to say. I need you, Danny. I need to talk it out with you.”
    Daniel put his untouched bourbon on the bar. “I don’t know, Tim.” He headed for the door. “I’m gonna go for a walk, get a chilidog.”
    “You’re coming back, though, right?” The fear in his voice was unmistakable, and genuine.
    Daniel nodded. “To let you know what I decide, one way or another.”

“T
hen if anyone says to you, ‘Look! Here is the Messiah!’ or ‘There he is!’—do not believe it. For false messiahs and