by Pat Simmons
Elbowing Parke, Annette asked, “See your name linked to any of that?”
He thought about this Parke boy again. Could the child be Parke VII? “Okay, okay. I’m guilty.” Parke dropped his head in his hands as he leaned forward. God, forgive me if I’ve wrong my own child. Forgive me for sins that I didn’t realize I committed. Show me what it means to live for You because I have no idea, he said silently and stood to begin his walk down the same path that Cheney had taken. Parke felt like he was being summoned to the king for a beheading. After prayer, the next thing Parke remembered was changing into all white clothes and standing at the edge of a pool facing Cheney.
Oh man, this is all Annette’s fault, he thought as he was submerged under the water in Jesus’ Name.
Chapter Thirty-one
Cheney was heartbroken after Parke’s hesitation. He had her spoiled, saying yes to many of her requests, but not this time. The urge was so strong, she walked alone.
That sermon was for me. Cheney needed not only to forget and forgive herself for having the abortion, but she wanted God’s forgiveness, too. She had done all that she could do to shake the guilt. Taking in foster kids hadn’t worked. Nothing had. She believed the preacher when he said she wouldn’t leave out the door the same way she came in, swollen with guilt, bitterness, and self-pity.
“‘And God will subdue our iniquities and cast all our sins into the depths of the sea.’ Micah 7:19. Rest assured that the sea is too deep for your sins to rise again after God leaves them there,” a bald man told a dozen gathered for their baptism.
Nervously climbing three steps to a large water tank, Cheney’s heart pounded. As she steadied herself and looked up, Parke stood on the other side and mouthed, I love you.
Two ministers stood waist-deep in the pool, beckoning for Cheney and Parke to begin their descent into the water. She faced Parke. Curving his lips into a bright smile, Parke whispered, “I realized I had to get myself cleaned up, too.”
“Cross your arms against your chest,” one minister said to both of them.
Gripping the back of her garment with a steady hand, the man lifted one arm in the air. “My dear brother and sister, upon the confession of your faith and the confidence that we have in the blessed Word of life, concerning the death, burial, and grand resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, we now baptize you in the name of Jesus for the remission of your sins. You shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” Despite his firm hold, he gently dipped Cheney back. “Your sins are now buried, Sister,” were the first words out the minister’s mouth when she resurfaced. “Praise God. Don’t let the devil convince you to dig them up again. Let God fill you with His precious Holy Ghost.”
Cheney wiped water from her eyes as Parke shouted, “Hallelujah!” and the ministers encouraged him to worship God. Something was happening in Parke. She didn’t know what, but she wanted it, too. But a woman motioned for her to get out the pool so another female candidate could get into the pool. “Now, don’t you feel better, sugar?” she asked, draping a warm white towel over Cheney’s shoulders.
“I feel like I dumped a heavy load,” Cheney confessed, but her mind remained on Parke. Besides the night he shed tears with her, he hadn’t been that emotional again.
Inside a large ladies’ dressing room, two older women assisted Cheney with drying off and changing back into her black dress.
“You’re a new creature, sweetie,” a plump grandmother-looking woman said, “Thanks to Jesus’s death on Calvary, you’ve got a clean slate.”
“Sho does,” the other women agreed, rolling wet socks off Cheney’s feet. “It looks like that man in the pool with you may already have received the Holy Ghost.”
Cheney’s head shot up. “Parke? Whatever it is I want it.”
Neither woman stopped working with Cheney’s clothes as they talked.
“Usually when someone starts shouting like that in the water, if they don’t have the Holy Ghost, they’ve got the anointing,” said the shorter woman.
“Sho ’nuff,” the taller woman added. “You want God to fill you with His power because you’re clean and sanctified before the devil tries to lure you away.”
“It’s a gift from God and the evidence is His spirit speaking through you in unknown tongues. That’s just the beginning, the breakthrough,” Ethel explained.
“Well, whatever God has for me, I want it all,” Cheney with finality. This was the first time in six years she was at peace. Somehow, her life was about to turn around.
“You can read all about the Holy Ghost and speaking in tongues in the book of Acts,” Ethel instructed.
“Will I know what I’m saying?”
“Only if God has a message for you; otherwise, it’s God’s way of edifying you.”
“Oh.” Minutes later they arrived at a small chapel sparsely filled with other baptized converts. Some were crying, but mostly they all were shouting, “Thank you, Jesus” or ‘Hallelujah”. Parke dominated a far corner with his hands in the air talking a mile a minute in a language she didn’t recognize.
“Yeah, he’s got it,” the shorter woman stated matter-of-factly.
All three of them sat on a back row. The women instructed Cheney to just thank God, praise Him for being God. Cheney shrugged as she closed her eyes. She didn’t know how to pray other than “Our Father” so thanking Jesus for a second chance seemed simple enough. Funny, baptism was such an effortless task to rectify a serious act. Cheney didn’t know how Parke “got it” but she wanted this Holy Ghost, too.
A while later, words unrehearsed, unlearned, and indistinguishable exploded from her mouth. The sensation along with the words began in her belly and spread throughout her body. It was as if she was experiencing an out-of-body episode, but she was fully aware.
Cheney heard herself speaking, and felt her lips moving, but she couldn’t control the words, speed, or volume. She didn’t understand what she was saying, but the spiritual, supernatural connection was undeniable. Rejoicing roared through the room.
“Sho ‘nuff, she’s got it!” a woman yelled.
Unbelievable. Cheney didn’t know what kind of high junkies experienced, but she was sure it couldn’t compare to what just occurred. “It’s real. It’s real. I got Pentecost like in the Bible!” The Power was still very much alive in the new millennium. Her burdens, guilt, and hate were finally extinguished.
***
“My life is over,” Hallison complained, stomping around in her bedroom. With Paula Silas at work, her mother’s daily salvation reminder calls, and now Cheney and Parke receiving the Holy Ghost, church seemed to be closing in on her.
She wanted to curse out her frustration. God would probably strike her dead for blasphemy. She had faked sickness, lied, and repeatedly turned down her mother’s last invitation to attend church. Now, Malcolm wholeheartedly agreed to visit with the newly converted, happy, and rejoicing Pentecostals.
“Baby, we’re not making any commitments, they are,” he had said.
Whatever demons Cheney had, they had been exorcized. All Hallison wanted was to live in sin, out of sin, or with sin—in peace. She was a contented backslider, but God kept sending His servants her way. Unfortunately, her so-called demons were angels from God, and they had more warfare than any devil could conjure up.
Tugging a plum-colored suit off the rack in her closet with too much force, she snagged several other outfits down with it. Great. “Who am I kidding? If I step foot in church, I may turn to a pillar of salt like Lot’s wife.” She clenched her teeth. “Malcolm, why do you have to be so accepting? Ever hear of just saying no?” she shouted.
“Accept that I don’t want to be saved anymore.” Her mild irritation was escalating into a major temper tantrum as the phone rang, interrupting her ranting.
“Hey,” Malcolm hushed into the receiver when she answered. “This can’t be my woman. You aren’t starting your day off like that. Close your eyes and have a seat.”
She rolled her eyes
instead. Her mood wasn’t conductive to romance. “Sweetheart, I phone you every morning to love you with soft words and sweet thoughts. What is ruining it today?”
Flopping on her bed, Hallison debated if she should discuss her fears with him. Without warning, tears spilled from her eyes. Her steady, angry voice became weak and shaky. “I’m so scared, Malcolm.”
Malcolm cooed into her ear. “What’s scaring you? Tell me, I’ve got time. I suggest you make time to talk to me now, or I’m calling your office all day.”
“The thought of going to church.” She sighed. “Then, there’s Parke and Cheney receiving the Holy Ghost and the pressure to share their jubilation.”
His laugh held a touch of relief. “Oh, don’t let them scare you. They’ve been excitable since their experience. They’ve been finishing each other’s sentences, and praying for folks on the spot. I’m kinda interested to see what caused that.”
“They spoke in other tongues, Malcolm. That’s called receiving the Holy Ghost. That’s what happened to them! I was once like that.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Malcolm asked, sounding confused.
“I don’t want to be like that anymore. I mean, I’m all for going to church, but I want to do what I want and not be reminded that I’m sinning against God.”
Malcolm was quiet, then slowly responded, “You know I’m not one for pressure, especially when it comes to religion. I’ve already accepted their invitation for church. I thought you and Cheney were becoming good friends. But if you’ll be uncomfortable, I can tell Parke we can’t make it, although I can’t understand why you’re stressed.”
She loved her man deeply, but at the moment, Hallison could’ve shaken Malcolm like a rag doll. He should’ve checked with her, but he didn’t know how she felt. “You’re right. I guess I’m just freaking out. I’m sorry.”
“It sounds like I need to spend more time with my woman. Like I told you before our hiatus, you’ll get no pressure from me. Feel up to dinner and dancing later?” She agreed. “Oh,” Malcolm said, chuckling. “Don’t think this conversation is over.”
Shutting out bad vibes, Hallison closed her eyes and smiled. “I just love you so much. I don’t want anything to come between us, not even church. I keep getting these strange feelings that something is trying to steal my happiness.”
“Our love is too strong for you to worry. You’re mine and I’m yours. We can do church and survive. Now, Miss Dinkins, say, “I love, Malcolm.”
The man was irreplaceable. “I love you, Malcolm, my strong, handsome and fearless warrior.” Smiling, Hallison was content the remainder of the day until she stopped by the Galleria from work. That strange feeling returned, and she was about to dismiss it when she heard her name. She turned in that direction. “Tavia, is that you?”
“Yeah, girl, it’s me. How have you been?” They embraced.
Hallison didn’t recognize her old friend from her church days. Tavia was heavier, hair shorter, and she didn’t look like she had been taking care of herself. “How’s David?”
“Girl, don’t mention that man’s name.” Tavia’s eyes bucked. “I should’ve never married him.”
“Huh?” Hallison blinked in shock. “What? You two were so in love.”
“Yeah, and pastor told me not to marry him.”
Hallison shook her head. “Well, he was wrong. You’re happily—”
“No, the pastor was right. He used drugs, beat me…tried to kill me.”
“No!” Hallison covered her mouth. How could the pastor have known, or did he know? “Are you okay?”
“Only by the grace of God, but David was stabbed to death while buying drugs. I repented big time and called the pastor and apologized. I’ve learned my lesson. When the man of God tells me something, I’m going to listen from now on.”
Stunned, she couldn’t believe it. For years, Hallison had misjudged God concerning Tavia and David. Was God now talking to her? Cutting their conversation short, Hallison exchanged a hug, then headed home. Her shopping spree was put on hold.
***
Mrs. Beacon stared Cheney down. “You’re kiddin’ me. Please tell me you’re not on a religious crusade. Go to church? It ain’t going to happen, unless it has bingo tables.”
Parke folded his arms, standing in Mrs. Beacon’s living room. “Cheney, you said she would be difficult.”
“Yeah, I know. We could use force.”
“I wanna know who is bad enough to tie me up and carry me out of here?”
Cheney pleaded, “Come one time. The experience is unexplainable. After so many years I have peace from a bad decision I made. God can get rid of your bitterness.”
“I’d rather hold on to it.” Mrs. Beacon squinted. “God’s the cause of all my lonely nights, cloudy days, and something else. I’ll remember it in a minute. I’ll bargain with God if He hands over the hit-and-run driver who took Henry away.”
Kneeling in front of Mrs. Beacon, Cheney rested praying hands on her lap. “Grandma BB, I don’t have all the answers. He has already proven Himself to me in a way that’s indescribable. A woman at church came up to me and said God’s mercies are new every morning. I wake up every morning trying to find out. Will you please come to church with us, just one time?” Cheney stuck one finger in the air. “I want to share this incredible experience.”
“One time, Heney, and I’m going late and leaving early.”
Cheney exhaled. “That’s better than nothing. I guess God will have to work quickly on you.”
“She’s serious, isn’t she, about going late?” Parke asked as they walked back to her house to check on the kids.
“Yep, but it’s hard to convince her when I’m still learning and don’t know the right words or scriptures to say.”
“It may take us a lifetime to learn, Sister Cheney Reynolds.”
Laughing, they stepped onto her porch. “I wish God had saved me sooner. I’m almost positive I would’ve never gotten involved with Larry.”
“Hush, woman. That name is now on our bad word list.”
“You’re right. Hey, has Wilma said anything else about the little Parke boy.”
Parke frowned, shaking his head. “Nope, if that child proves to be mine, nothing is going to stop me from getting to my boy. Wilma did say the little fella in question has bounced from one foster home to another.”
Kami dropped her sandwich on the hardwood floor, making a mad dash to Parke, leaving peanut butter on his cheek seconds after they walked through the door.
He examined the jelly stain on his shirt and Kami whimpered, “Sorree.”
“Miss Cheney,” Sasha’s voice yelled from upstairs, “I need help packing.”
“Coming,” Cheney shouted back, snickering at Parke. Strolling to Dre, she teasingly rubbed his peach fuzz-covered chin. “I’m going to miss you and your sister. You two are really good kids. Don’t let anybody say otherwise.”
Their maternal grandmother was hopping mad when she learned what happened to Sasha and Dre. The woman had stormed into family court, demanding custody of her grandchildren. And Cheney didn’t blame her. She would miss them, but was glad a bad situation had a certain degree of a happy ending.
Dre flew into Cheney’s arm, hugging her tightly. “Thank you for taking care of us. I’ll miss you, Parke, and Kami.” He looked up with tears in his eyes. “Could we come back and visit?”
Cheney kissed the top of Dre’s cornrows. “Of course.” She sniffed and exhaled. “Now, I better check on Sasha.”
Upstairs in the girls’ bedroom, Sasha sat solemnly in the rocking chair, hugging one of the international dolls. Cheney walked quietly into the room and settled on the bed.
The young girl didn’t make eye contact with her. “You know, I’m glad my Grandma cares about me, even if my Mama don’t.”
Stretching out on the bedspread, Cheney patted the space beside her. “Me, too.”
Sasha climbed on the bed and cuddled in Cheney’s arms for a long time without speakin
g. “Why doesn’t she love me?”
Instead of lying, Cheney said what was in her heart. Didn’t she read in her Bible what Jesus said about truth? It was in the book of John, Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. It was only one of three scriptures she knew. She wanted Sasha to be free—body, soul, and heart. “Sometimes, people, including your mother and me, make mistakes. Sometimes, we’re scared and do stupid things.”
“But, I’m her daughter, Miss Cheney.”
“I know.” Cheney sighed. The child she aborted came to mind, but this time, without experiencing any lingering guilt, she felt redemption. She couldn’t think of another scripture. “I’ll pray that one day she’ll realize how important you are to her before it’s too late.” Sasha’s blank expression showed her lack of understanding.
Later that night Cheney, Parke, and Kami said a tearful good-bye to Sasha and Dre. Even Parke’s parents stopped by to say their good-byes, give hugs, and bring gifts. Parting wasn’t a sweet sorrow, it was an aching pain. Eventually, Cheney fell asleep in Sasha’s bed trying to console Kami who had grown accustomed to the older girl’s brief presence. Kami’s departure could be any day so Cheney had her on borrowed time.
Kami drifted off after chanting Sasha’s name for minutes. The wall Blue’s Clues clock chimed at 10:30. Cheney yawned and decided to close her eyes again for a few minutes before getting up and going to her own bedroom.
“Cheney,” a Voice called, sounding like a loud whisper.
“Hmmm?” Cheney moaned without opening an eye.
“Cheyenne is fine. I knew her soul before she was conceived. I returned her to Me when her life no longer existed. She’s resting. Now let your soul rest,” the deep Voice rumbled thunderously with so much power the bedroom shook.
Cheney sprang up; her eyes popped opened. She scanned the softly lit room. Kami was sound asleep in the kiddie bed Parke had purchased for her, arguing that the twin beds were too big. Her burglar alarm was activated, so no one had broken in.
