The McCoys of Holy Rock

by Shelia E. Bell

  Margaret stood close by Hezekiah.

  Pastor was next to the other ministers and deacons who were lined up next to Hezekiah to welcome those who had come up for prayer or to join the church. What is she about to say? I know she didn’t just get a revelation from the Lord. The devil maybe, Pastor thought to himself.

  Margaret rocked slowly from side to side, both arms folded inside each other like a tied ribbon.

  “Praise God, hallelujah,” she said. “I’m glad to be here today. I’m glad that I was able to come to Memphis to celebrate this special occasion. It means more than you can ever think or imagine. I need to get some things said today, cause I don’t have much longer on this earth. You see, the doctors say I have a terminal illness and that I don’t have long to live. But God is able.”

  Hezekiah and many of the other ministers and congregation were shocked by this bit of news. “The devil is a liar. By His stripes you are healed,” Hezekiah proclaimed.

  “Thank you, Pastor McCoy,” Margaret answered.

  Some people were still standing and others had taken their seats. People continued with their praises and amens as Margaret spoke.

  “You know it is truly a blessing to have Pastor McCoy as your senior pastor, as your shepherd, the leader of the flock. He’s a good man. He’s a mighty good man,” Margaret continued.

  Hezekiah smiled, his chest poked out. He extended his hand out toward First Lady Fancy and she walked up to stand next to her husband while Margaret continued her praises. He placed his arm around his wife with pride.

  “You couldn’t have found better leaders than Pastor McCoy and former senior pastor, Stiles Graham.”

  Stiles nodded and mouthed the words, “Thank you, Jesus.”

  “Holy Rock, it hasn’t always been like this. You see, God don’t like ugly. Sometimes he’ll let you think you’re getting away but you can’t hide from God. He’ll bring your sins to the light.”

  Hezekiah’s expression began to change slightly to an inquisitive stare. What was she talking about? He looked down at Fancy and lightly squeezed her shoulder. Fancy looked up at him in wonderment.

  “Pastor McCoy is a good man, a God-fearing man. I thank God every day for him. Holy Rock, I won’t rest until I let you know that this man is a warrior, a soldier for God.” She turned and looked at Hezekiah. “But, baby, there’s something I’ve been holding in for a mighty long time. I just can’t keep quiet about it. It wouldn’t be fair to you…or to Reverend Stiles.”

  Stiles looked confused. Pastor looked like he would pass out at any minute. Hezekiah looked at Margaret inquisitively, recognizing that his aunt was more than likely about to say something inappropriate. “It’s okay, Aunt Margaret. We’ll talk about it later,” he said, walking up next to her and placing his arm around her shoulders. He wanted to soothe the woman and at the same time make her stop all the babbling. She was way out of line with whatever she was about to say. With his eyes, he signaled his armor bearers to come forward.

  Margaret ignored his gesture and slightly pushed him away.

  “Yes. Amen. All right now,” people were saying.

  “No, I have to say this now, Pastor McCoy. You see, I won’t be going back home,” she said looking at him with a crazed expression plastered on her otherwise attractive countenance. “There’s something I have to let you know, baby, and Holy Rock, your pastor is going to need your support. I need you to be here for him.”

  You could hear the congregation mumbling. Some people looked at each other in confusion, then an eerie hush came over the church.

  Hezekiah whispered in Margaret’s ear to have a seat, but it was to no avail.

  “Lord, God, not now. Not here,” Pastor whispered to himself and the good Lord.

  “I don’t know how else to say this other than to say it. I am not your aunt, honey. All those years Tonya and her husband raised you because I couldn’t. I wasn’t in a good place back then. What I’m trying to say is Tonya, God rest her sweet soul, was not your mother. I’m your birth mother and that man right there, who you know as Pastor, is your father.”

  Hezekiah reeled from the words that poured from her lips. Fancy ran up next to him and grabbed him around the waist. Two armor bearers tried to lead Margaret away but she adamantly refused to budge.

  “Holy Rock, I’m telling you what God loves–and that’s the truth. Hezekiah, honey, I want you and everyone to know, about your daddy.” Her voice escalated. “He left you fatherless so he could start a life with another woman. She was no stranger either; she was my sister. She not only broke up my family but she stole my other son from me, too. She was nothing but a wicked witch, Satan’s pawn. Some of you long time Holy Rock members remember her. I’m talking about Audrey Graham. May she rest in hell. And, Hezekiah, baby, your daddy, I hate to say is a no good, lying, hypocrite.” Margaret pointed to Pastor. “Just look at ‘em, standing over there like he’s so perfect when he’s nothing but a liar and a cheat. Isn’t that right, Chauncey Graham!”

  The armor bearers surrounded her, trying to lead her away, but somehow as they wrestled with her as gently but forcibly as they could, she rocked and reeled as they tugged on her but she refused to be moved. “He’s far from being a man of God! And Stiles, sweetheart, Audrey Graham, the witch he made his wife, was just as bad because you’re my son, my baby boy. She took you away from me when you were a baby! But mama’s here now, even if it’s only for a short time. Mama’s here for both of you.”

  The congregation exploded. Hezekiah and Fancy stood deftly still like they’d been transformed into cement.

  Pastor’s shoulders slumped as his eyes locked in with Josie, Francesca and Stiles. Francesca turned what seemed two shades darker. Her hand flew up to her covered mouth. Her knees grew weak. She would have collapsed if Tim hadn’t grabbed her around the waist to hold her up. A deep frown caressed Stiles’ forehead as he tried to digest what Margaret had just said. Josie held on to the pew in front of her.

  “You know what God loves. He loves the truth. And if you don’t believe anything I have to say, please believe that your Mama loves you Hezekiah and Stiles.” Margaret looked at Hezekiah, then Stiles and then out into the sea of people.

  “Oh, my God,” Fancy screamed in horror, placing her hand over her chest.

  Khalil and Xavier ran up and stood beside their mother. Xavier grabbed her and Khalil wrapped his arm around his father’s shoulder and tried to lead him away.

  Without warning, and with quickness, Margaret jerked her right arm away from the armor bearer, quickly reached into her purse and whipped out a Glock 19 semiautomatic pistol. In shock and awe, instead of bum rushing her, the armor bearer impulsively jumped back as screams reverberated throughout the sanctuary. Before the deacons and armor bearers could take her all the way down, multiple shots rang out. Bullet after bullet sprayed through the congregation sounding louder than a church bell ringing on Sunday morning. Panicked and frightened, people took off running in every direction, some pushing, stumbling and stepping over each other. What a Jubilee celebration it was.

  15

  Realize deeply that the present moment

  is all you ever have. Elkhart Tolle

  Rena stood in front of the twenty-first floor window of her hotel suite and glared outside as thunderstorms raged, the lightning clapped, and hail pounded against the building. It sounded and looked like the world was coming to an end. It was mid-afternoon, but it was almost pitch black outside. Tornado sirens started blaring and Rena turned and stepped away from the window. "Robert, I need you. God, let him get here soon. Please, God," she continually pleaded as she folded her arms and went and laid down on the hotel bed.

  She couldn't erase the memories of what she had experienced less than 24 hours ago. Seeing the blood soaked bodies of her parents laying inches in front of her was something she would forever remember. One minute she and her parents were listening to that crazy, evil woman and the next minute they were trying to duck behind the church pew to escape the b
arrage of bullets sailing through the sanctuary. It proved to be a hopeless situation for her mom and dad.

  She looked at her clothes that were on the floor in a corner of the hotel room, the clothes that she had on that awful day, and burst into sobs when she saw all of the blood splatter on her dress, shoes, even her purse. She tried to block out the look on her mother's face. Her mother died with her eyes open and it looked like she was searching for something. Her father's eyes were closed and one arm lay across his chest while the other one was spread across her mother like he was trying to protect her. Rena cried as she got up off the bed and looked at her parents' luggage and various items of clothing they had left sprawled around the room. She couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't do anything but weep. She needed Robert but his flight wouldn’t be arriving until later that evening. It was like time had stood still and was moving at a snail's pace. So much had happened in so little time that she couldn't focus. The thought of Frankie being dead and her husband, Tim too? It was unfathomable. To think about all the years Frankie had put up such a long, brave fight against her AIDS/HIV, only to succumb to a bullet by some crazy maniacal woman that wanted to exact revenge on Pastor Graham and his dead, wicked wife, Audrey. Rena felt like she was in the middle of a horror movie. People were so full of rage and anger in the world today, and it was hard to comprehend. But to take the lives of her parents, who were always good people that cared about others, was appalling. And maybe Frankie had done her dirt in her time, but she had put all of that behind her and seemed to have a happy relationship with her husband. All of that had been snuffed out in a matter of seconds and Rena felt that the weight of her grief would drown her.

  Inside she couldn’t put out the fuel that was beginning to blaze in her heart. She thought about how her life had taken a turn for the very worst ever since the Graham family entered into it. It had been Francesca who introduced her to lesbianism. It was because of Francesca that she walked around to this day with an incurable STD. Audrey Graham despised her and did everything she could at every turn to make her life a living hell. Then there was Stiles, Mr. Self-Righteous Stiles Graham who made her feel like she was less than nothing, who divorced her and threw her aside like last night’s garbage. The whole family, except for Pastor Graham, had been nothing but cruel, evil, and mean towards her. But nothing could trump what had happened this time. This time her parents paid the ultimate price because of the Grahams. This time there would be no turning back, no way to make things better. Her parents were dead and they were dead because of the Grahams. She could never ever forgive them, or herself. She should never have gotten mixed up with them in the first place.

  "Robert, please hurry," she cried out. She began to shake as the images played over and over in her mind. "Oh, God, God, I need you, God. I need you now," she continually prayed and wept aloud, rocking back and forth. "How can I find the strength to bury my parents? How will I make it through this?" The traumatizing ache over the people she'd lost felt like a boulder had fallen on her heart. Her FaceTime chimed. She opened it to her sister and brother on the phone. She rarely talked to them, not because she didn’t love her siblings, but because they were so much older. Being a change of life baby, when she was born, they had long left home and moved out of state. Rena grew up feeling like an only child. But now they needed each other. Hopefully, together, maybe they would find some tiny bit of consolation in being family.

  ‡

  Robert Becton stood outside the terminal of Memphis International Airport impatiently waiting on Uber to pick him up and take him to his wife. The heavy rainstorms and dark clouds welcomed him to the murderous city.

  He was anxious to get to Rena. He knew she shouldn't have come to Memphis. She had traveled to Memphis several times since moving back to Andover, but there was something about this visit that troubled him. Granted, he didn't exactly explain it to Rena. Instead, she thought he was jealous about the possibility of her seeing Stiles again. That wasn't it at all, not really. Sure, he didn't like the hold that Stiles seemed to still have on Rena, but this time things were different. When she told him that she and her parents were going to Memphis, uneasiness settled over him that even he couldn't explain. Now he understood the reason he felt the way he had.

  When he heard Rena’s voice and saw on FaceTime the look of anguish on her face his heart seemed to break in a million tiny pieces. He couldn't fathom what she was going through in Memphis all alone. He only knew that he had to get to her as fast as he possibly could. He couldn't make sense out of what Rena told him; she was way too distraught to be coherent. From what he read online, the pastor's aunt had massacred people for no reason, not that any reason would ever justify what the woman had done.

  Her rampage only came to an end after she was shot by one of the armor bearers. Another armor bearer knocked her down, and violently removed the gun from out of her hands. From what he'd read, the woman died later that night from her wounds.

  The Uber driver pulled up and Robert hurriedly climbed inside the Toyota Camry. I’m on my way, baby. Just hang on. I’m coming.

  16

  Everyone loves justice in the affairs of another. Proverb

  Detria had remained glued to either the television or her computer most of the day and well into the night, following the news about the shooting at Holy Rock. She was heartbroken over the devastation that woman had caused. However, she wasn’t overly concerned about the accusations that Margaret revealed about Audrey not being Stiles’ biological mother. In some small way she felt that Stiles deserved the sudden turnaround in his life, and Audrey definitely deserved to have her good, wholesome name tarnished.

  When she got a call from Khalil the night following the shooting, she quickly invited him to come over, knowing that he could probably use a shoulder to lean on after all that had transpired. She felt somewhat flattered that Khalil would even think about calling her, let alone visiting her, during a tragic time as this. She was thankful that his family was not among the tragedies. According to Khalil, his little brother, who was wounded, had been treated and released from the hospital.

  It was after eleven p.m. when the doorbell rang, way past Priscilla’s bedtime. Rain was coming down hard, but Priscilla was a hard sleeper, so Detria knew that she probably wouldn’t hear anything anyway, not that she cared. She hurried to the door, opened it, and met a slightly wet and distraught looking Khalil. He almost looked like a child, but from their previous visit, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was a full grown man…in every way. She dismissed the lustful thought, reached out and removed the umbrella from his hand, and ushered him into the house.

  “Khalil, baby, I’m so sorry about what happened. How is your family?” she asked as they walked hand in hand and into the kitchen.

  “Not good, Dee. I mean everybody’s trying to make sense out of what happened. I don’t understand any of it. I had to get out of there. That’s why I came here. I know it’s late, so I won’t stay long.”

  “No, stay as long as you want. As a matter of fact, I think you should stay the night. You need to be away from it all, if only for a while.” She stroked his back and offered him a seat at the massive kitchen peninsula. “Let me make you a good stiff drink.”

  Khalil didn’t refuse. Being a former drug addict, he knew he shouldn’t indulge in any mind altering substances like hard liquor, but tonight was different, considering all that he had witnessed. He agreed with Dee that he needed something to take the edge off.

  “The glasses are over there in that cabinet to the right. If you’ll get one and put some ice in yours if you’d like, that would be straight.”

  Khalil walked over to the cabinet, retrieved a glass, walked over to the stainless steel refrigerator and placed the glass underneath the ice dispenser until a couple of cubes fell into it. Without saying anything, he returned to the peninsula and sat in the high back stool.

  “Here you go. Help yourself,” she said, returning from her fully stocked bar with a bottle of b
rown liquor, placing it in front of him.

  Khalil poured himself a stiff drink, brought the glass up to his lips, and the liquid disappeared without a trace. He shook his head and grimaced like he was in pain.

  “Another one?” she asked.

  This time Khalil responded by sliding the glass toward her and Dee complied by pouring him another shot.

  “You can’t imagine seeing what I witnessed yesterday, Dee,” Khalil said, finishing off the second drink as quickly as he had the first. “I’m just glad my family is okay, well most of them anyway. Aunt Margaret is dead but the things she said, I’m totally puzzled about.”

  “If you want to talk about it, I’m here,” Detria told him. “Another?” she offered a third time.

  Khalil nodded his head. “Yeah, one more. I want to forget it all, everything that happened, but it keeps playing over and over again in my head.” He grabbed the side of his head with both hands like he could somehow squeeze the memories out.

  “Why don’t you come lie down for a while? Try to get some sleep.” Dee gently rubbed his back in a circular motion then stopped and gently tugged on his hand.

  Khalil didn’t protest. He gulped down the last drink, then stood up and allowed Dee to guide him to her bedroom. She turned back the covers on the bed when they entered the room and without prompting, he walked over to the bed, sat down, took off his shoes, and laid back. The liquor had relaxed him and he closed his eyes as his head rested on the soft fluffy pillow.