Try a Little Tenderness

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Try a Little Tenderness Page 14

by Isaiah David Paul


  “His name is Turner,” Mateo said once Amirah gave him her attention.

  Her mouth dropped open. “That’s Turner Mustafa Spartenburg?”

  Mateo nodded his head. Amirah had heard all of the stories about the infamous Turner and how he was trying to be the big man of the Smoky Mountains. Rumors of the dead bodies he left in Asheville, Hendersonville, Greenville, Spartanburg, Knoxville, and Johnson City made him a terror in three states. Turner roamed free because he had law enforcement agents on his payroll, and the region in general wasn’t attractive enough for the real thugs in Winston-Salem, Charlotte, or Nashville to take over. It didn’t help that he had access to his family’s status on the other side of the law.

  Up until that moment, Turner had been a legend in her mind.

  “How do you know Turner?” she asked.

  “He and Sonic used to be lovers,” Mateo admitted.

  Amirah had also heard of Turner’s voracious sexual appetite. The pictures of him being naked with scantily-clad females were constantly talked about by the students in the school and the church. Videos of his sexual exploits frequently hit the net, and he was talked about so much that major gossip bloggers ran stories on him from time to time. Surprisingly, the rumors that he also messed with men didn’t deter women from pursuing him either.

  Admittedly, if Turner had been under the right direction, he could have been a highly pursued male model. He had the perfect height, and the way his muscles protruded through his clothes gave him an action figure–like quality. Turner belonged in the G. I. Joe and Transformer movies, or he could’ve been a WWE superstar. The combination made him dangerous.

  Amirah admitted to herself that physically, Turner was more the type of man she preferred. While he wasn’t dark, he was tall, and he had great facial features and the ideal body type; but when she thought about the baggage he was carrying, she wised up and realized why God had the man pursue the woman.

  “Wow,” Amirah finally replied, digesting it all.

  “Sonic and I got saved around the same time. Hammer has been mentoring both of us, along with a guy named Marvel, trying to keep us in the Word and out of trouble. Remember when Hammer got shot?”

  Amirah remembered hearing something like that, but she was not able to follow up on what happened. The discernment in her spirit let her know that Mateo was telling the truth. She remembered the members of her church praying for Hammer and taking up a collection to help cover his medical expenses a few months ago. “Yeah.”

  “Well, the reason Hammer got shot was because Sonic had had enough of Turner, and he no longer wanted to live the lifestyle he was living with him. Sonic wanted to live for Christ. Hammer helped Sonic get back this new green Kia Rio he owned, and when Turner confronted him about it, Hammer beat him up.

  “So we helped Sonic trade in his old car for the Toyota he has now so that he could stay low key and of course, I was teaching him how to defend himself, because I don’t believe anyone should be a victim of domestic violence.

  “Turner and his crew caught us slipping at the motel one night, and while his goons jumped me, he confronted Hammer and Sonic and he shot them both. I got shot too; hence the reason I walk with a limp.”

  Amirah remembered them talking about the shooting at Heaven’s Inn. It was a big story because of who Hammer was to Guiding Light Ministries. There were concerns about the ministry, but Pastor Cummings had put everyone’s minds at ease at a private pastor’s conference that she knew the Ingles and the Hugheses had attended.

  “For the last couple of months, I’ve been helping Sonic sell some of the items Turner had given him during their situationship so that he could, in turn, use the money to pay off some of his hospital bills and remove the Turner tramp stamp from his lower back.”

  Amirah had seen the tattoo of Turner’s name a few other men and women had on their lower back. She never knew why they’d gotten the same tattoo on their backside, but after listening to Mateo, it made perfect sense. Turner marked his territory well.

  She was impressed by Mateo’s desire to help Sonic turn his life around, and by the fact that the two of them were doing life together in Christ. She also knew it took a level of bravery to stand up to Turner and sell the items for ministry and to live life right. Amirah admired that.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” She surprised herself by offering. Amirah didn’t want to get mixed up in whatever Turner had going on, nor did she want to get on his radar, but she couldn’t stand by and watch Mateo get brutalized, or watch Sonic and Hammer do battle with this Satanic-bred militant alone.

  Amirah trusted God would step in and help when the time was right. He’d already confirmed for her through visions that Mateo had been telling the truth.

  “I’m good,” Mateo replied confidently. When he stood up and turned around, Amirah thought she saw the imprint of a gun on his backside. A part of her wanted to ask him about it, but she listened to the discernment that God was in control and that by bringing it up, she’d only make things worse. “I felt that if Turner had tracked me down to the bookstore, there was a good chance that he was watching you or your students.”

  “So you came to make sure I made it home safely?” Amirah asked.

  The smile on Mateo’s face confirmed his answer. “That and to see if we can meet up at David’s Table tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. Should I pick you up?” Amirah offered.

  “Now, you know the man is supposed to pick you up.” Mateo smiled. “I’d rather you not come to my motel room. How about this: I’ll meet you at David’s Table, and if I don’t show up, go home.”

  Amirah nodded her head. “I can do that.”

  Mateo and Amirah hugged. Yeah, she felt the gun. She wanted to say something about him bringing a weapon on church grounds, but again, the spirit in her urged her to keep her mouth shut, and she chose to listen.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Gimmie the Loot

  Almost there, Mateo told himself as he hopped out of the car and walked briskly to his room. He could see the college students who were staying in two of the adjoining rooms near his going ape over the latest J. Cole track. The girls were scantily clad in bikini tops and Daisy Dukes even though it was only forty degrees. The guys partied, gambled, and talked trash even though they had exams that week.

  He knew that Hammer had to be in the streets driving one of the Lincolns in order for them to be allowed to party with the door open. Fortunately the noise wasn’t loud enough to be heard once the door was closed. Mateo figured that either no one complained about the noise, or the manager on duty must’ve been asleep. Or both. Normally, the patrons respected the noise ordinance because they valued their stay at Heaven’s Inn.

  “Yo, Mateo! You should stay out and party with us,” one of the white boys yelled out as he raised a flavored malt liquor bottle in the air.

  Mateo chuckled to himself as he recognized a co-worker from Burgers & Fries. “I’m good, man. I gotta study this Word and get ready for my meeting tomorrow.”

  Mateo could feel the temptation to get high and drunk. The girls were looking right, and he could stand to let one loose. He wanted to “pour it up” like Rihanna, preferably with her on his arm, but the God in him kicked in, and instantly, he was brought back to focus. No way was he going to stay outside any longer than he had to. He was dying to take the bandana from around his forehead and free his thin, curly hair to the free-forming Afro he usually wore when he wasn’t at work.

  He couldn’t wait to cross the threshold of his front door to get out of his wet clothes, take a shower, and if he was lucky, relax for a little while before he had to be at the front desk of the motel in a few hours. It was a little after six o’clock in the morning, and Mateo wanted to get in some personal time before he went to sleep. He wondered how long their party would last.

  Mateo was determined to eliminate the smell of fries and burgers from being in that fast food joint for the last seven and a half hours. Working for Burgers &
Fries was stressful at times, and when they closed at four in the morning, he was part of the crew that cleaned the restaurant from top to bottom. Since Mateo held down the late-night cashier’s spot, he cleaned the registers, wiped off the sauce display, and restocked the napkins, forks, and spoons. When he was done, he was the one to do the dishes.

  The kitchen crew was responsible for cleaning the grills, the fry stations, and the sandwich boards, and when they were done, they hosed down the whole floor and mopped the store. Mateo would still be doing dishes and would always be in the way, so his feet always got wet when it came time for them to get to the back of the restaurant. Washing all the containers and utensils got his shirt wet too.

  Usually, when Mateo walked in the door, he stripped butt-booty-ball naked so he could toss the day’s dirty clothes into the hamper and make a beeline to the shower so he could get “Zestfully clean.”

  This early morning was no different. He walked in the door, took off the black hoodie and the long-sleeved John 3:16 T-shirt that had the Burgers & Fries logo, and tossed both items on the floor. He stepped out of the cheap black clogs he got from Walmart that needed to be replaced, and he struggled for a full minute to take off the soggy socks. Mateo tore off the A-line shirt he was wearing and loosened the belt buckle as he pulled off his boxers, thermals, and slacks, with the intention of being steps way from hitting the bathroom.

  As he reached for the doorknob, he heard a small clicking sound. He turned his head in the direction of the sound, hoping he was hearing things.

  It had been almost a week since his confrontation with Sonic and Marvel about the gun, and this particular morning, he’d left the Glock in the desk instead of putting it back in the box under the bed. He’d figured that if they’d really told Hammer, he would’ve already confronted him about it. Maybe they’d kept his secret.

  Or not.

  He reached for the pocketknife that he’d placed on the desk before he went to work. That would’ve been closer than the gun. He felt hardwood and his calendar under his fingertips. The knife was gone.

  “Who else do you know that has a key to this room besides me?” Mateo heard Hammer ask the question. Mateo bent down to pick up the shirt he’d just taken off, and he concealed his torso when he flipped on the light.

  “Why you sitting in the dark?”

  Mateo’s senses were heightened when he heard Hammer’s deep masculine voice boom from the far side of the room. Hammer had moved the chair from his desk to the window and looked out again briefly before facing Mateo, who felt his body tense up as his eyes adjusted to the light.

  “You’ve been avoiding me.” Hammer was blunt as he stood up and walked toward Mateo.

  “No, I haven’t,” Mateo lied and turned away. He tried to see what Hammer may have been up to. He saw Hammer playing with the pocketknife, making the clicking sound before putting it in his back pocket. He was dressed in a black Serve Them polo shirt and some loose-fitting black cargo work pants. His work boots gave him an extra inch in height.

  “You always trying to get hood on somebody.” Mateo shook his head as he tried to figure out how he was going to get Hammer out of his room so he could get some rest.

  “Look, man, let’s cut the bull.” Hammer’s voice was sharp and commanding. “I’m here for the gun, and I expect to walk out of here with it.”

  Mateo looked at him. He knew Sonic and/or Marvel had told on him the minute they got the chance. He didn’t know whether they told on him right away or after Sonic had confronted him again in his room earlier; and the truth was he had been avoiding Hammer. There was no way he was parting with his burner, and if that meant getting evicted from Heaven’s Inn, then so be it.

  “I’m disappointed in you,” Hammer continued as he shook his head. “I thought we were past the point where we felt we needed to arm ourselves with the weapons of the world. It’s apparent that you don’t have the gun on you, because I don’t see it on the floor or in plain view. I could’ve just walked in here, found it, and taken it, but that would be stealing, and I’m so much better than that.”

  Mateo didn’t say anything. As bad as he felt the need to, he wasn’t going to fight Hammer to keep the gun. For starters, he still felt grimy after working hard on third shift. He was surprised that Hammer hadn’t put his hand up to cover his nose. Mateo was sure he reeked, and he knew Hammer could smell him. In the grand scheme of things, he couldn’t punch and protect his midsection at the same time—and he didn’t have time to put his drawers on.

  “I didn’t come over here to beef. I came over here to help you stay in line with the man you said you wanted to be. I can help you, but you have to give me the gun.” Hammer tried to reason with Mateo. “When God called you to ministry, He called you to be a new man. He called you to be forgiving and to walk in forgiveness. As your mentor and as your friend, I’m not going to sit here and watch you backslide just so you can get revenge on someone who’s hurt you.”

  Mateo smacked his lips. He didn’t want to admit that everything Hammer said made sense. What he was doing that very moment, contemplating killing Turner, was a contradiction of everything he wanted to be as a minister.

  Sure, he could ask for forgiveness if he walked up to Turner and smacked him in the head. He could even ask for forgiveness if he pulled the trigger and sent him to hell; but for that brief moment in time, the Spirit convicted Mateo. In that same moment, Mateo had to ask himself, What if I’m the one who’s to introduce Turner Mustafa Spartenburg to Christ?

  The thought made Mateo smirk, as he didn’t think it was likely. He grabbed the gun from the drawer in the desk and slowly sat on the bed. He put the gun to his side. Hammer sat on the bed next to him. “Sometimes the hardest decision is to follow God and to do what’s right. Killing someone is always the easiest way out.”

  Mateo looked away. He didn’t want Hammer to see him with the tear falling down his face. “I failed the test.”

  “Maybe so.” Hammer put his hand on Mateo’s back and rubbed his shoulder. “But the best part about our God is that He gives second chances, and if we fail at our second chance, he gives us multiple chances until we get it right. With God, there’s always a retest—another chance to get an A.”

  Mateo let what Hammer said marinate in his mind. He knew that his mentor was right. Just as sure as the day was long, Mateo would get his retest, and internally, Mateo vowed that he would be ready.

  “Go take a shower, because I know you feel groggy and grimy. Get some rest and take the day off. I’ll talk to you later on, okay?”

  Mateo nodded his head. “So what are you going to do with the gun?” Mateo handed it to him. He watched as Hammer stood up and put the gun in his backside.

  “You know I have a way of getting rid of things.” Hammer smirked.

  Mateo knew that within an hour or so, Pastor Cummings and his assistant, Emilio, would have disposed of the gun. In their past lives, Pastor Cummings and Emilio had ties to an old biker gang, and Emilio still had his disposal business. Word was that between Pastor Cummings and Emilio, they performed illusions better than Houdini. Hammer couldn’t risk keeping the gun, because he himself still had a few years before he could legally own a piece. Mateo was glad that Hammer didn’t ask him where the gun came from or how long he’d had it.

  “The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is long-suffering toward us, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.” Hammer closed the door on his way out.

  Mateo tried to remember the Bible verse Hammer’s words came from, but it slipped his mind. He shook his head, wanting to take a shower, but he didn’t have the energy to take the few steps to the bathroom or to turn on the shower. Mateo got up and tossed the shirt that he was concealing his nakedness with in with the rest of the dirty clothes and got under the covers. He knew he was going to wash laundry the next day, and he had a clean set of sheets to change the bed with. He was as content with that as he was with his sou
l feeling clean again.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Do-over

  “Amirah Dalton?” the waiter asked when she walked in.

  “Yes.” Amirah smiled when she heard her name. She was surprised because she didn’t have a reservation. She looked into the restaurant and couldn’t see Mateo anywhere.

  “Right this way,” the waiter said. “There is a gentleman waiting on you.”

  Bonus points, Amirah thought as she followed the waiter. As she passed the other patrons who were enjoying their dinner, she still couldn’t find Mateo. The waiter made his way back to a secluded room. She was happy to see that Mateo was pulling out all the stops. She was greeted by a dove sculpture that pumped water. A fruit spread had been set at their table, filled with cut watermelon, mango, pineapple, cantaloupe, honeydew melon, and strawberries.

  Mateo was waiting behind a chair that he had pulled out for her. He was dressed in a teal blue shirt with a purple-and-silver tie, black slacks, and well-polished dress shoes. Mateo cleaned up very well. Remnants of the scars he suffered still appeared on his face, but she could tell he was in good spirits and in a better place spiritually.

  “Good evening,” Mateo greeted her.

  “Good evening.” Amirah took her place before the chair. Mateo gently pushed her chair up to the table.

  “I’ll give you a few minutes to get situated,” the waiter announced. “Then I’ll come back to take your order.”

  “Thank you.” Mateo nodded his head.

  Mateo walked around to his seat, took the napkin off the table, and put it in his lap. “I hope you like.”

  “Of course. I’m still trying to figure out how you pulled this off. It takes forever and a day to get a private room at David’s Table, and usually my book club has to get our reservations months in advance.”

  “Ask and ye shall receive, seek and ye shall find, knock and the door shall be opened unto you.” Mateo quoted scripture. “I called and asked to see if I needed a reservation; they said no. Then I asked if anyone had canceled a reservation for one of the rooms, and it just so happened that the person who had this table booked had an emergency and had to cancel. So I did a little step and dance, and we are here.”

 

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