Even Sinners Still Have Souls

by Joy, E. n.

  "That's deep," I replied, sympathetically.

  "That ain't the half of my problems," he said.

  "There's more?" I asked, surprised.

  "Is there? I lost my job yesterday. I've been working at UPS for the past ten years and they did a budget cut, and I just so happened to be one of the ones that got a pink slip. My mortgage is due and the engine went out in my car," Stanley chuckled, lightly.

  It was hard to believe that Stanley's mood was still upbeat.

  "You sure are dealing with this bad luck like it ain't nothin’," I said.

  "I trust enough in God to know that He'll bring me through it," Stanley replied, proudly.

  I sucked my teeth and rolled my eyes.

  "What was all that for?"

  "I don't believe in God, Stanley," I said. Stanley nearly choked on his grits while looking at me like I was crazy. "Don't look at me like that, Stanley. See, you can go around and believe in this made up man y'all call God if you want to, but not me."

  "You’re not knowledgeable of what you're saying, because he who has knowledge spares his words according to Proverbs 17:27.” He looked around for our waitress. “Check please," he motioned for the waitress.

  "Stanley, there is no such thing as God," I said, trying to convince him of my belief.

  Stanley pulled two twenties out of his wallet, laid them on top of the bill, and pushed his plate away as if I had spoiled his appetite. "How can you say something like that, Hayden?" Stanley grimaced.

  "Easy,” I was quick to say. “Take my life for instance; if there was a God, I wouldn't be broke, homeless, motherless, nor would He have let me get raped by four different men already and I ain't even twenty years old!" Tears fell from my eyes as I brought back up the painful memories of my life. "Now tell me why I should believe in God?"

  Stanley was at a loss for words as he stared at me with sorrowful eyes. I could tell that he couldn't believe that the beautiful young lady sitting before him had been through so much. I didn't leave a hint or a trace of my world being nothing less than perfect.

  "I’m sorry, Hayden," was all he could muster up and say.

  "Look, Stanley, it was nice seeing you again." I stood up from the booth and said, "but I gotta go." I turned to walk away.

  "Hayden?" Stanley called out.

  I turned around and faced him.

  "You said you’re homeless.” He swallowed and paused. “Come live with me… that is until you get on your feet," he said sincerely.

  One thing I learned about myself growing up is that I'm very bull-headed when it comes to certain things, but one thing was for sure, two for certain; Momma didn't raise no fool. There was no way I was about to pass up Stanley's offer being I didn't have nowhere else to go.

  "Are you sure you got enough room for me?" I asked.

  Stanley stood up from the booth. "You can have my room and I'll take the sofa." Stanley smiled, took my hand, and led me out the diner. On the walk to his house, I explained to him what happened between Benny and me. He was surprised and suggested that I call her to ask for my things. Me being me, I refused. Even though I needed the fifteen grand from my stash right about now to get on my feet and to help Stanley out, I still couldn't see myself calling her and begging for my things. As hard as I hit her with that lamp, she probably wouldn't give me my stuff anyways. "Besides, like I said, I hit her over the head with a lamp. No telling what she'd do to me if I tried to go back and get my stuff. I know $15,000 is a lot of money and all I've got, but it's not worth my life."

  This was all my fault. I could have been done moved from Benny’s place on my own free will. I’d saved up plenty of money. But that not wanting to be alone thing had paralyzed me. Wouldn’t let me move-literally. Now I was being forced out with nothing…or so I thought.

  Chapter Twelve

  I enjoyed every waking moment of the six months I stayed at Stanley's. He and Jayla treated me just like I was a part of their family. We did everything together. We went to the movies, the park, out to dinner, and every Sunday, Jayla and Stanley went to church. They tried their best to get me to go with them, but I always refused. Stanley continuously left little post-it notes with different Bible verses taped all over the house. The bathroom, kitchen, living room, you name it, there was a Bible verse posted somewhere. Every time I went to open the refrigerator, there was a post it that read Psalm 23, “The Lord is my Shepherd.” I memorized just about all of the verses. I had no choice because they stared me in the face wherever I went. That was Stanley's way of trying to get me to believe in God. I couldn't blame the brotha for trying.

  Stanley worked odd jobs to get by. I couldn't understand how he kept the bills paid on the little money that he was bringing in. I asked him what his secret was and all he stated to me was, “My secret is Malachi 3:10-11.” I found myself picking up his Bible and reading the scripture for myself. After reading it, I still didn't understand.

  I went back to school and worked part-time as a waitress at the diner where Stanley and I had rekindled our friendship. My life was finally looking up. I thought about my mother a lot, but I still refused to have any dealings with her. Who knew though? Maybe in the future when she realized that John was nothing more than a wolf in sheep's clothing, she and I could go back to being mother and daughter, and I could share all the bad and good things that had happened since she left. But until then, I had to go on living my life without her in it.

  Stanley and I grew closer and closer. He could no longer hide the strong feelings he had for me, and what was shocking to me was that I was attracted to him as well. There was no doubt in my mind that once I got my life all the way right, he and I would be together.

  He always stressed to me, though, that he wouldn't consider having another relationship with anyone unless marriage was on the table. He wasn’t trying to just do the dating thing and put himself out there like that with no hope of a real future with the woman. He explained to me that he'd already gone against God's word when he had Jayla out of wedlock, and he refused to make the same mistake again. I knew I was wrong for this, but I would challenge his Christian ways just to see how strong he was. I would sometimes walk around the house in a pair of short shorts and a cut off t-shirt to see if I could get a reaction out of him. Stanley would just smile, grab his Bible, and walk into another room.

  Stanley didn't have any female friends that he was seeing on a regular basis. He did mention that a couple of women at the church were trying to get at him, but instead of indulging in the devilish things they had planned for him, he kept his head buried in his Bible.

  One Saturday, I decided to work a double shift at the diner. It was way past midnight when I finally made it home. Stanley and Jayla had both turned in so they could get up for church the next morning. I tiptoed into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of milk, and on the table sat a manila envelope addressed to me. I picked up the letter to see if I could recognize the handwriting, but couldn't. The envelope felt kind of thick, so I anxiously ripped it open and began reading the letter.

  Dear Hayden, first off, I want to apologize to you for trying to force myself on you. Hopefully you can find it in your heart to one day forgive me. You know me well enough to know that that was way out of my character. I had to admit that I was hurt by the fact that Sticky had left me. And if you're wondering, no, we're still not together, which is fine with me. I had to move on. You see, you can't dwell on the past. You have to let go and let God do His thing. I know you have never been big on God, but Hayden, He is real. You are walking proof. I know it sounds funny, me of all people talking to you about God, with the lifestyle I live. I hope you're not mad because your friend, Stanley, contacted me. Hayden, he's a cutie. Too bad I'm gay (smile).

  He and I talked a while and he explained a lot of things about you that I overlooked. Trust me, it was nothing too personal, just some things I know you would have shared with me if I'd given you the chance to be Hayden instead of Pure. He talked my head off about the Bible too and even
had me reading a few scriptures. I found your stash of money and wanted to spend it, but I prayed one day that you would stop being so pigheaded and come by and ask me for it. My prayers were answered when Stanley showed up at my door. All your money is in the envelope. I burned up all your clothes, so I threw in some extra cash to replace them. Hayden, Stanley is your Guardian Angel. Hold on to him and treat him right, because God puts people in our lives for a reason.

  Love Bonita

  “Bonita,” I said with a smile, amused by the fact Benny had signed her birth name on the letter.

  Tears flowed as I folded up the letter and placed it back into the envelope. I pulled the money out, counted it, and walked into my room. I lifted up the mattress and placed the envelope underneath before climbing in bed and drifting off to sleep…with a huge grin on my face. Sleeping on top of fifteen G’s had to be just as uncomfortable as that princess who slept on that pea in the story my mother used to tell me when I was little. But I wasn’t about to complain.

  The next morning, the smell of sausage woke me up from a deep sleep. Stanley was in the kitchen doing his regular, preparing Sunday morning breakfast. I got up, went to the bathroom and took care of my hygiene. I walked into the kitchen and smiled at the sight of Stanley and Jayla working together as a team. One scrambled the eggs while the other threw a couple of slices of cheese on top.

  "Good morning, Hayden," Jayla said with a huge smile.

  "Good morning, y'all," I replied before taking a seat at the table.

  "You goin' to church with us today?" Stanley asked, playfully.

  I shot Stanley an I-wish-I-would type look and he chuckled and continued on with breakfast.

  After breakfast, I sat in the living room studying for the quiz I had in school the next day when Stanley and Jayla walked in all dressed for church.

  "I found this ten thousand dollars in my jacket pocket this morning. Do you know how it got there?" Stanley asked me.

  "Nope," I replied, smiling. I laid my book down on top of the coffee table and looked up at Stanley. He looked quite stunning in his light-gray shirt, black slacks, and black Eddie Bauer wing tips.

  "Oh, come on." Stanley sat down next to me on the couch and began tickling me. "I'm gon' tickle you until you tell me," he said.

  "Stop, Stanley," I wiggled and laughed.

  "Tell me then," he said.

  "Okay, okay," I said, moving his hands away from me.

  "Benny gave me my money back. So to show my appreciation for all that you have done for me, I broke you off a li'l somethin’ somethin’."

  "Hayden, I can't take this money from you. You worked hard for this," he said, placing the money in my hand.

  "Stanley, you gon' take this money. You deserve it," I said in a demanding tone.

  "Wow, you never cease to amaze me," Stanley said before leaning over and planting a kiss on my lips that sent an electric shock right through me. The kiss seemed to surprise him just as much as it surprised me.

  "Oooo," Daddy's got a girlfriend," Jayla sang, happily.

  I was in shock. The softness of his lips had me wanting to take him to the bedroom and do some dangerous things to him.

  Stanley smiled and stood up. "You sure you don't wanna come with us?" Stanley asked. He counted out one thousand dollars and put it in a Tithes envelope.

  "I’m sure." I stood up from the couch to walk them to the front door.

  "I think you're scared," Stanley said.

  "Scared of what?" I asked confused.

  "Scared that if you come to church, you might like it," he answered.

  "The only thing I'm scared of is mice." As soon as I finished my sentence, a tiny mouse shot across the living room floor. "Eeeekkkk!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. "Was that a mouse?" I asked, hoping Stanley would say no.

  "I'm afraid so," he replied, laughing.

  "Stanley, that's not funny," I said, terrified, slapping his arm.

  "See ya when we get home from church," Stanley said, opening the front door.

  "No, you can't leave me here alone with that rodent," I shouted, looking around to see if the mouse was gone.

  "Well, I'll tell you what, me and Jayla are going to church. So your best bet is to get dressed and come with us," Stanley continued laughing.

  I looked around the room. Every little thing I looked at on the floor had me thinking that it was the mouse. "Give me five minutes," I said, running to my room to get dressed. “You are not going to leave me here alone with Mickey.” Fifteen minutes later, I walked out the room dressed in a navy blue dress with the long jacket to match and a pair of navy blue pumps. I accentuated my ensemble with my silver hoop earrings, necklace and bangles. I did look rather good if I had to say so myself.

  "You look beautiful," Stanley said with the sexiest gaze in his eyes. He leaned over and gave me another soft kiss on my lips.

  "You sure do," Jayla agreed.

  "Thank you. Now let's get out of here," I said, looking around, "before that thing shows back up."

  Stanley, Jayla and I walked a few blocks to the church. My heart raced with anticipation as we got closer to the door. I didn't know how my life would turn out after today. I guess I would just have to wait and see. But I did know one thing; if there really was a God, hopefully He would introduce Himself to me since I was coming to His house. And you know what? He did. And I knew beyond a doubt that my life would never again be the same. And this time…that was a good thing.

  THE END

  Counterfeit Hope

  By Iniko

  Chapter One

  “It’s better to water grass at night,” yelled out sixty-four year old, Don Ramon, to his wife, sixty-two year old Julia, who was staring at him through their living room window.

  Don was not Ramon’s first name. But it was added when talking to or mentioning him as a show of respect. It is the Spanish version of the English word Mister or sir. Everyone called Ramon, Don Ramon, out of love and respect for the kind, old man.

  Don Ramon was a dark brown skin, short, balding man, who had a pot belly that stuck far out. He wore some hand made Mexican brown sandals on his feet and worn out khaki pants that looked to be in slightly better condition than his thrift store bought black Guns N Roses faded t-shirt.

  It was ten o’clock at night during a hot July month in 1999 as Don Ramon attended to his fenceless front lawn. The sun had descended around nine o’clock that evening. Children played and popped fireworks outside of their homes down the street.

  Once Julia received a response from her husband as to why he was watering the grass this late, she simply backed away from the window and closed the curtains. She walked back to the kitchen and continued washing the dishes from that night’s dinner.

  Don Ramon’s wife of forty years was a female equal to her husband in appearance. She was slightly overweight, five feet tall, brown skinned, and had a short mushroom like styled hairdo. She also wore a thrift store bought purple muumuu dress that hovered slightly above her worn out pink, fuzzy slippers.

  “Come inside now, kids. It’s getting late,” hollered Julia to her three grandkids that were playing tag in the backyard of their home. A few seconds later, all three kids ran inside and quickly ransacked the fridge for anything that would quench their young thirst.

  Outside, Don Ramon continued watering his front lawn. He stared down at what he called, the hairs of the earth, as the cool water from the hose he held streamed down and drenched the cooling ground below. Don Ramon’s thoughts were simply on whether he should purchase a spray gun for his hose, so he wouldn’t have to use his thumb to make it spray.

  “Give me your wallet,” Don Ramon heard someone say a few feet from where he stood.

  He snapped his head up and saw a thin man dressed entirely in black clothing, with the hood of his sweater covering his head. Don Ramon only managed to glance up at his face for a split second, and then brought his attention a little further back down, near the dark man’s stomach. Don Ramon could not bring himself t
o look away from the object that the thin man held in his right hand. It was a chrome 38 revolver pistol pointed directly at him. The thin man held it near his own body to keep it away from the view of any persons who might be driving by, especially the police.

  “Take it easy, buddy,” Don Ramon said to the man as he slightly raised his hands in the air. Don Ramon was trying to put him at ease so he wouldn’t get nervous and accidentally shoot him.

  With an angry whisper to his voice the thin man then said, “Put your hands down.” He didn’t want anyone to suspect that he was actually trying to rob the old man. Don Ramon instantly complied and lowered his hands. “Now give me all your money before I kill you, old man,” said the thin man as he simultaneously cocked back the hammer on his pistol.

  Don Ramon then noticed something else that was also as much of an attention grabber as the chrome shine of the pistol that the robber clutched in his hand. It was some gold teeth in his mouth. But what also snatched Don Ramon’s attention away from the gun was the cut out words on the top front of the thin man’s gold teeth. They spelled out the word, ‘East.’

  The dark area where Don Ramon and the man stood suddenly became a small degree brighter when someone pulled back the living room curtain. “Ramon!” screamed Julia as she saw the grim scene that was taking place in front of her home.

  “Stay inside the house,” Don Ramon yelled back to his wife in Spanish. Don Ramon wanted to make sure his wife completely understood him, so he spoke to her in their native tongue. Both he and his wife had traveled from central Mexico to the states several years before, but Don Ramon’s wife had not been able to properly learn the English language very well. The only real English she had managed to learn well enough to speak, were the cuss words she heard on a daily bases while walking down the crime ridden streets of the city of Roble, California where they now resided.