“After twenty-five years of service as a church pastor, I retired last week,” the tourist told me. “The church board gave me a two-week vacation here in Belize as part of the retirement package.”
“That’s a good retirement gift,” I said.
Reverend Hugh McCready was seated at a table near mine on the deck of the Holiday Hotel, where we enjoyed conversation over our coffee.
“I’m really close to the guys on the Board,” he said. “One of them—Bishop Hanlon, is a terrible practical joker and he promised to provide me with a little something extra. I shudder to think what he meant by that.”
A young woman in a bikini walked up from the beach onto the deck and stopped at the minister’s table.
“Are you Reverend Hugh?”
“Yes, miss.”
“My name is Rita,” she said. “A Mister Hanlon paid my way down here to be the something extra he promised for your vacation.”
“What?!”
The minister turned beet red and I was afraid he would choke on his coffee.
“Hold on,” he said to the girl as he pulled his phone from his pocket.
He frantically dialed a number.
“Hey, Ron. This is Hugh McCready. What? No, I don’t think it’s funny. What were you thinking? Don’t you think that after twenty-five years of service for the Lord that I should be shown some respect? I am the moral leader of the community. This isn’t over. When I get back we’re going to get a few things straight.”
He closed the phone and put it back in his pocket.
While he was on the phone the girl in the bikini got to her feet and began to steal away.
The reverend said, “Hold on there pretty lady. I’m not angry with you.”
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