Chasing Faith

by Stephanie Perry Moore

  “You’re the one running for lieutenant governor, not me. I have to be serious if I plan to do my job and keep your dad safe. Now, go—my boss believed your excuse once,” I said lightheartedly.

  He winked and said, “That was a good save…admit it.”

  “Go,” I insisted, sort of wanting him to stay.

  Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “If I must.”

  He disappeared and I went back to making sure things were in order, which wasn’t an easy task. Tons of folks were very attentive to Reverend Stokes. Caterers couldn’t stop offering him food. Constant flashes were emitted from a camera that took shots of everyone that spoke to him. His campaign manager stepped in every few minutes to give various updates.

  I rolled my eyes, glad that they were hidden behind the sunglasses we routinely wore. We even wore them indoors so we could survey our surroundings without being detected. It was one part of the job I’d have trouble getting used to. Who wore shades inside?

  An hour later, Ryan came up to relieve me for my scheduled break. His timing was perfect. Not only was I overwhelmed by my current responsibilities, making sure everyone who came in contact with Cool Falcon didn’t pose any danger, but I also needed to visit the rest room.

  I headed down the hall, but a mass of females blocked my way. In the midst of the group stood Sebastian, enjoying the attention. His stock went down immediately in my eyes—I didn’t intend to stand there watching him gloat. My nostrils flared at the sight; a part of me was jealous. Not wanting him to see me mixed in with the fawning women surrounding him, I pushed through the first bathroom door I came to. The minute I walked in, I could tell I was in the wrong place. A man stood with his back to me, facing a row of urinals.

  Then a male voice from behind me said, “I think the ladies’ room is that way.”

  I turned around to find Sebastian grinning at me. I couldn’t dare ponder why he thought this was funny—I knew I would not let newfound emotions affect me so much in the future.

  I held my head high and attempted to walk around him before he spoke. When he moved the same way I did, I stepped in the other direction. Still eye to eye, I heard his shoes move again.

  I squared him. “Excuse you.”

  “You seem upset,” he asked as if he cared.

  “I’m in the wrong bathroom with only a few minutes to spare, and it took me forever to get through the hall with you and all your women in the way. Of course I’m agitated. I have to pee.” I walked past him, not caring what he thought of me.

  “You misunderstood what you saw,” he said from behind.

  “Yeah, right.” I made sure he heard me.

  As I scuttled down the hall to the correct rest room, I wondered what it was about this guy that had me all messed up. I’d been around gorgeous men all my life. Love at first sight hadn’t hit me since college, and that didn’t pan out. But something about Sebastian Stokes attracted me to him with a powerful magnetic force. In my briefing, the other agents and I were told that Secret Service agents don’t socialize with the protectee or his family. However, since I technically wasn’t Secret Service, the line didn’t seem so black for me. In fact, it was sort of gray in my mind. But after I’d caught myself feeling something, maybe I didn’t need to cross that faint line.

  I pushed open the ladies’ room door and stepped inside. Mrs. Stokes was right on the other side, washing her well-manicured hands. When she glanced up and saw it was me, she started shaking.

  “Who’s guarding my husband?” she asked, panic-stricken.

  “Agent Hold, ma’am,” I said as I lightly rubbed her back to calm her down.

  “Oh.” She fingered the rhinestones on her royal blue suit. “I’m sorry, but these threats on his life are getting to be more than I can take.”

  “You don’t have to worry,” I assured her as I removed my hand. “The Agency has all of the e-mails, notes, and letters being checked as we speak. We’re taking nothing for granted. We’ll make sure he’s safe.”

  She gave me a small smile. “I know I can seem a bit rude to the help sometime, but I’m overly cautious. My husband and children can be too trusting. I’m sure in your line of work you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I do—I wear that same hat when it comes to my mom and sister. You owe me no explanations.”

  “Good,” she said, becoming stiff again. “As long as you do your job we’ll have no problems.”

  I took a deep breath. “Ma’am, I’m here with only one goal in mind and that’s to keep your husband safe.”

  “Well, thank you, I guess,” she said with a sneer before flouncing out of the bathroom.

  I wanted to be angry, but in this job I had to learn to deal with people from all walks of life. I could tell that this was definitely going to be an interesting assignment, because from what I’d personally experienced with the Stokes family, they were a trip.

  Troy had told me my positive impression of these people wasn’t correct. Though I didn’t want to admit it, he was right. We hadn’t spoken since I’d taken the job, and that was a good thing because I wasn’t up for hearing I told you so. One thing was for sure: the Stokeses were a colorful family.

  I was glad when Tuesday night came to a halt. At two A.M. we all retired to our respective hotel rooms in the Marriott Marquis. I would sleep well, knowing that there were no threats or attacks my first night on the job. Sebastian and I never crossed paths again. Maybe it was best that way.

  The second week in December, our unit accompanied the Stokes family on a tour of the Midwest. We had stops in Illinois, Michigan, and Indiana. None of their three children accompanied us—I was glad I didn’t have to see Sebastian. Like my college love, Max, Sebastian seemed to be in my head early.

  In Illinois there was a presidential town hall meeting. Reverend Stokes, Illinois governor Graham Hill, and U.S. congressman Jack Daly were the three candidates on deck. Even though there were no seats, the crowd was settled. Everyone seemed attentive as the candidates were giving their opening remarks. I was glad our job hadn’t been dangerous. Though the Agency had tracked and arrested several people for the idle threats they’d sent in threatening the Reverend’s life, and one of his detail teams did have to call in the bomb squad after receiving a suspicious package at his residence, my team only had to deal with routine stuff.

  Feeling at ease, I remembered my training roommate Agent Winters was protecting the governor. Once in place near the podium, I searched the room, hoping to see her. I was unsuccessful.

  “Agent Ware,” Agent Sawyer called out, into my earpiece. “I’m posted at the back of the room and there is a guy on your side wearing a red tee-shirt with a rebel flag on it. He looks very antsy. You see him?”

  Quickly scanning that perimeter, I found the man in question. He was rocking back and forth while the rest of the crowd standing around was still. Agent Sawyer made it plain he had issues with a black man becoming president, so I purposely limited interaction. I didn’t know him to use such an anxious tone. It appeared that one redneck could spot another.

  With my adrenaline rising, I responded, “Yes, I see him—he’s at my nine o’clock.”

  “All right, everyone remain where you are. Let’s see if he settles down,” Agent Moss called out from the van.

  Agent Hold said, “I’m watching Cool Falcon. He’s about to address the audience.”

  Reverend Stokes began speaking. My eyes didn’t move from the suspect. Within seconds, the mysterious guy untied a trench jacket from around his waist and put it on. He then placed his hands in his pockets and pulled out a small, circular steel object.

  “We can’t have a black man mixing in with real candidates. It’s my duty to take you out,” the crazed man said as he came charging from the back of the room, waving what I could now make out was a grenade.

  I wanted to take him out or at least cap him in the leg. My FBI training to go toward the fire was my first instinct, but then I quickly shook my head. I wasn’t there to disarm the th
reat—I was there to protect the candidate. Rushing onto the stage, I ushered Reverend Stokes to safety.

  “Hold, move Cool Falcon now,” I said to my partner as we placed our bodies in front of the suspect.

  Screams were coming from every direction as people caught on to what was happening. They cleared the area and the guy stood there alone. All of a sudden he fell to his feet.

  “Suspect down,” Agent Moss said, “suspect down.”

  About eighteen agents from on-site details for all three candidates that I knew were there, but not visible, surrounded the intruder. The person who shot him still had the gun cocked in position to fire again if necessary. When the weapon was lowered I could make out the face. I was so proud to see it was Suzie Winters.

  “I know her,” I said aloud as Agent Hold and Reverend Stokes stood nearby. “We were roommates at FLETC.”

  “Wow—thank her for me,” Reverend Stokes said. “And thanks to you two as well. You put your lives on the line for real. I’m so grateful.”

  Ryan and I both smiled, as if letting our protectee know that he owed us no thanks. Agents Sawyer and Regunfuss took him out of the room. I was about to follow.

  Agent Moss said, “Ware, I’m proud of you. You learned something in our scenario training. You protected first and trusted that others could handle the rest. Our man is safe. Good job. Take a second and speak to your friend.”

  People were being cleared from the event and the man was being handcuffed. I rushed over to Suzie. She dropped her gun when she saw me. An agent she knew picked it up quickly for her. We hugged so hard.

  “I was looking for you,” I said when we pulled apart.

  “I saw you searching for someone,” she said, gripping her hand to calm it.

  I placed my hands on hers. “You were amazing, remembering just the right spot to get him off balance so the pin wouldn’t come out of the detonator.”

  “I was coached by the best.” She smiled, alluding to my help. “Plus, you were awesome as well, getting your protectee out of the way. Once I saw that, I had to respond.”

  “Oh yeah, he told me to tell you thanks for saving his life.” I looked down. “And thanks for doing your job. It’s still hard for me to trust others to take out the danger. You gave me faith in the system.”

  Placing her arms on my shoulders, she said, “See? We’re both just answering our call. We must keep running after God’s own heart. He’ll see us through.”

  “Winters, we need to debrief with you,” a man appearing to be her detail leader demanded, cutting off our special moment.

  “Got to go. We’ll be better at staying in touch,” she said, before heading off to answer questions.

  I knew the reality was that we might not meet anymore. However, Suzie Winters was all right in my book. She was put into my life to remind me to keep seeking my purpose. Because if I did that, eventually God would show up.

  After the Midwest trip, Reverend and Mrs. Stokes took a tour of the South. The Reverend was a great candidate. He worked the crowds, hugged all the babies, and tried to shake every hand in every room. Behind the scenes, however, I heard him snap at people, talk about folks behind their backs, and promise things he’d do if elected, then later recant those promises to his campaign team.

  When we were in Natchez, Mississippi, I stood at the back of a small Baptist church and watched Reverend Stokes preach to a rapt congregation.

  The crowd, mainly African-Americans, was cheering him on. His preaching style was so inviting. Whether it was that or his orating skills, Reverend Stokes was always persuasive, and he always played up God.

  “God’s Word says,” he proclaimed, “that where there is no vision, the people perish.”

  “Yes sir, yes sir!” someone exclaimed.

  “Gotta have a vision, now!” a woman wearing purple declared.

  “After working in the U.S. Senate, I realize that this country needs a serious change,” Stokes declared.

  “Need a change!” a man shouted.

  “And the best way I can make the greatest impact is to become President of the United States. I know you all have your own dreams. What is inside of you, yearning to become reality? Don’t keep it bottled up. Release it. So what if it seems impossible—with God, all things are possible.”

  “Yes, they are, chile!” the woman wearing purple said, shouting loudly again.

  “Start working on your dream today. If obstacles appear, find a way over, through, under, or around them. If you believe you can, with the Lord’s help, you will.”

  “Amen!” someone from the crowd exclaimed.

  “Hallelujah!” another shouted.

  “Come on, Springrice Baptist, and show some love for your next President of the United States.”

  The crowd whooped and hollered so loudly that I had to cover my ears. Cool Falcon was a hit.

  I knew that with God all things were possible, and that with Him beside me I could accomplish any and every thing. The message motivated me to make my dreams come true, and not to let anything stop me. However, I still felt unworthy of His love and blessings because of my past.

  I glanced at Ryan Hold, who was standing at attention next to me while we watched the protectee eat after the service. I knew his dream. He’d told me he wanted to run the Secret Service one day.

  “Ryan, do you remember what Reverend Stokes talked about today?”

  “Yeah. He talked about actualizing your dreams, making them realities.”

  Intrigued with the fact that he knew what he wanted to do, I asked, “Why do you want to run the Secret Service? Why is that your dream?”

  “Well, Christian, I definitely don’t think it’s a level playing field, but I love my line of work. I want to run it so I can be the one to iron out the kinks,” he revealed.

  “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  “No, no! It’s just that I think that’s a really good reason to want to run it.”

  We stood in silence for a moment, watching the members of the church mingle with the Reverend and his wife.

  “Chris, what is it that you want? What is your dream?” He caught me off guard.

  “I don’t exactly know,” I said, remaining pensive. “I want something. Does that make sense? To desire to have something, though you don’t know what it is?”

  “I follow you.”

  “I’m chasing something.” I paused. “I mean, I’m well into my late twenties, nearly thirty. I don’t have anything stable. I don’t have anything to hold on to.”

  “And you’ll get it soon enough. Sooner than you think. Shoot, at your age I was married with a kid on the way. Enjoy being single. Enjoy this time of development and growth.”

  “So I take it all is good on your end—with your family, I mean?”

  “Things are okay. I’ve been on the road a lot since I took this assignment to guard Reverend Stokes. We’re just trying to hold it together. Make it work. I love her—we’re in love with each other. That’s how I know we’ll be fine.”

  “Wow, that is so totally awesome,” I declared, wishing I could relate.

  “How about you? How are things with your family?” Ryan asked.

  “Things are okay, I guess. My teen sister is going through one of many phases. Right now, she’s boy-shopping.” I laughed to myself, a half-worried laugh, remembering the day I walked in on her little escapade. “I’m worried about her. She seems to be running with the wrong crowd.”

  “Oh, trust me, I know how that goes. I have two younger sisters myself. I worry about them just as much. I only want the best for them. We used to fight all the time as kids, and we even argue a bit now. But I still love them dearly.”

  “My sister is close to my heart, too.” He nodded as he listened to me. “And my mother…” my voice trailed off. “She’s okay, I guess. I honestly haven’t talked to her since I first took this job.”

  “Wow. Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sort of…angry.”

  “W
ell, what happened?”

  “Nothing really happened per se.”

  “Then why are you upset?” he questioned.

  I turned my head toward the corner of the room. What was I supposed to say? My personal life was bothering me more than I’d realized. Ryan was still waiting for my answer.

  “Chris, talk to me.”

  “It’s nothing,” I said, bringing my eyes back to meet his. “I just wish I could do more for my family. You know, I look at Mrs. Stokes, all dolled up and iced down, and I get kind of upset. I mean, why does my mom have to be the black version of trailer trash? Why did it have to work out this way for us? That’s all. I want to do so much more to help them.”

  “Continue on your path. Keep working hard. One day you’ll be able to do all the things for your family that you want to do.”

  “I sure hope so,” I said wishfully.

  Reverend Stokes appeared at events attended by both blacks and whites. Since it wasn’t as necessary for the protectee to have an African-American around him, so that person could blend in with the crowd, my partner Agent Hold and I were transferred to posts in the van. But I didn’t mind. Switching with Agents Moss and Pitts gave us some time to relax. Ryan and I munched on BBQ Lay’s, listened to the radio, and kept encouraging each other. I really enjoyed his sense of fun, mixed with our work. He’d run the Agency excellently one day. We were brisk, but not burnt out.

  After the second week’s campaign trail ended, it was time to head back home. On the way back to Georgia, I was in the front seat of the car the Stokeses were riding in. The candidate and his wife spoke in hushed tones. Suddenly, Mrs. Stokes’s voice rose in both pitch and volume.

  “I can’t believe they’re having marital problems. Our son has got to learn how to compromise.”

  Sebastian wasn’t married, and they only had two sons, so they had to have been talking about Steven Jr.

  “He’s just being smart,” Reverend Stokes snapped back. “He can’t let his wife know everything he’s doing.”