Adventures in Boyland (part 3): Trust

It was vogue in our ward last summer to play Body, Body in the pitch black church house late at night. (The clerk with the keys to the building was one of the most avid players.) It sounded like fun, but the first time I went, it was because I knew he'd be there.

Being brand new to the game means you almost always get yourself killed off early. I even fell to the "Psst, c'here" that got me killed in the Relief Society room. One round we were sitting there, the undead, a small group of us, including him. After a dramatic ninja roll in which he landed right in front of me and asked, "who killed you?" he sat next to me on the opposite couch. Things calmed down and people got chit chatty. All of the sudden, he swatted my knee and said, "how are you??" I told him I was fine. He only held my gaze and after a moment asked, "truly?"

I stared at him. No one had bothered to ask that in a long time. I didn't know if I should tell him the truth, in that  quiet foyer, as his face rested on his arm that rested on his knee and he waited--I did trust him, though I barely knew him--or if I should play it off. Moments later, though, there was another shriek, someone newly dead, and I never got the chance. It will always be the moment things could have changed, but didn't.

I didn't play Body, Body much after that.