He watched her go back and forth between the aisle and the counter, seemingly loading up on a variety of boxed food and snack items as if she were in a grocery store. She held onto an energy drink while the owner bagged up the other items. For a second their eyes met, but surprisingly they both looked away at the same time. They had spotted each other. There was no need to continue the charade that he was browsing the magazines.
“Don’t tell my wife. I’m over here snooping at my old church,” Willie admitted as she approached.
“I won’t as long as you don’t tell Chief Rich from the state fire department that I am here talking to you. I have enough to worry about,” Alexis said.
“Oh, Chief Rich,” said one of the Jacques brothers who apparently held the belief that every conversation held within the store was communal. “Please tell him we need our tape back. We told him we have one camera, one, that faces the opposite street. Still, he took our surveillance tape. The camera doesn’t work without tape.”
“We get another tape,” the voice of the eldest coming in stronger now as he stood and looked around.
“But that was a perfectly good tape.”
Willie and Alexis looked at one another and thought it best to continue their conversation outdoors. He took her bag from her as she struggled with the door that favored swinging inward rather than outward.
“So I guess they are still working on the case,” Willie predicted once outside.
“It takes a lot to tear down the lies of church folk,” Alexis murmured.
He looked at her, sure a comment thrown like that would come with some sort of explanation. “So I take it you have your own theory about who did it?”
“No offense, Pastor Willie,” Alexis said, releasing a breath of pure frustration. “Aww, this case is driving me crazy!” She shook the can of her energy drink so much Willie thought she might crush it in her bare hands.
“Calm down, I have full confidence that Chief Rich and his boys will find the arsonist.”
“I want to find them, him, or her,” Alexis whined, “on primetime television.”
“I thought I saw a promo for the second story in your series. I can’t imagine how you’ve managed it.”
“I’m not supposed to be talking to you,” Alexis reminded.
“And I’m not supposed to be talking to you either. So as long as we are not talking about doing another interview, you can tell me. What are you working on besides lunch and dinner too?” Willie said, raising the bag of food he helped carry for her.
“I’m looking for the street preacher, Roy Jones,” she huffed, taking the bag from Willie. “I thought he could use these.”
“Roy Jones?” Willie questioned. He started to ask did she have an appointment to meet with him this morning, but knew that would be silly. The last he had heard, Roy was still homeless and preaching from storefronts. For the past three to five years before Willie left Harvest, it was the church that helped feed Roy, and Willie’s personal desire to find him permanent shelter.
“Do you know him, or where he could be?” Alexis panted like a puppy waiting at the foot of his master for the possibility of a treat.
“I know him well, but you do know he’s homeless, right? During the course of the day, he could be anywhere. Hopefully, he’s going to one of the shelters I hooked him up with at night. That might be your best bet.”
“I’m going to find him if it takes all day. I took the whole day off for this because if this doesn’t work, I forfeit my series and I am back on the beat tomorrow.” She was crestfallen at the thought.
“Well, I pray everything works out for you,” Willie said, preparing to excuse himself and go back to church. He wondered if faith or desperation was fueling her quest. “What happened to not doing anymore stories on the church fire?”
“He said stay away from any church members. Technically, Roy never went to Harvest Baptist Church, right?”
Willie could tell she was determined and had thought things through. Like a parent, he worried about the unseen dangers. Roy was flighty and unpredictable. Even in his reformed days he seemed to attract unsavory characters. Willie remembered rescuing him from a dealer that was beating on Roy as if he owed him money or at least his devoted patronage.
“I really don’t think you should go down there by yourself,” Willie said as if she were about to rappel off a cliff into a mountainous ravine.
“I’m grabbing at straws here, so unless you’re offering to be an escort, I’ve got to, Pastor Willie.”
Willie looked at his watch, up to the sky, and back at her. He sighed. Then he used his hand to gesture for her to lead the way. She tossed the energy drink in the bag and swung it merrily beside her as if his accompaniment was all the pep she needed.
They noticed two tables placed out in front of the church as they started out down Lincoln toward the D.C. line, but didn’t tarry. It felt weird walking down the street as if it were absolutely normal for the two of them to be searching for a half-witted homeless man. Willie felt as if he should be trailing a few steps behind her. They didn’t want to be caught together by Chief Rich or one of his associates who may view this escapade as interfering with their case. Willie thought, worse than that, he didn’t want to be seen by anyone that knew his wife and felt obligated to report back their version of what was going on either.
He owed Vanessa the courtesy of a phone call. He indicated to Alexis to wait, then he walked off to the side to dial the church’s number from his cell phone. Luella connected him to Vanessa’s office. Vanessa was not too happy to find that he had scheduled the morning away from church. He’d forgotten this was their week of consecration before next week’s 50th anniversary of the church. She had been preparing an emotional tribute for her father, and demanded he be present to start going over the logistics of the celebration when he returned.
When she asked what he would be doing, he warned, “You don’t want to know.” Surprisingly, she left it alone. She knew he was either being a Good Samaritan by helping someone, or involving himself further in the investigations of the Harvest Baptist Church fire. In this case, he was doing both.
Willie was anxious to survey the block and satisfy both their curiosity so he could get on his way. He linked back up with Alexis.
“Roy can be . . . different, eccentric. The last I saw him he was talking about preaching the gospel.”
“Okay, but you sound skeptical.” Alexis pulled out her voice recorder.
“He’s been through a lot, drug addiction, homelessness. Time on the streets can take away a man’s sensibilities,” Willie offered, as he urged her to conceal the recorder from view.
The landscape of faces changed as they moved farther away from the church and closer to the D.C. line. Willie waved to a few that remembered him as pastor of the church up the street. He asked a few about Roy that confirmed he was a permanent fixture on these streets. More and more they saw faces of people not interested in social interaction as they walked by with hurried gaits, bags, belongings clutched tight, and downward gazes.
They came to the intersection at Division Avenue where all eyes were on them. Apparently this was a block where the attendance was taken and tourists weren’t welcome. Willie wondered should they go any farther. Red brick apartment houses separated by narrow alleys dominated the next block. Willie checked his watch, which read five minutes past eleven A.M. and decided to conquer another block before giving up. They were almost run over by a rugged young man over dressed in layers and his scrawny sidekick crossing the street in haste. The pair seemed to converge with another non-descript man in front of the same building.
Willie and Alexis both did a double take when they spotted a man in a black knit cap resembling a young Marvin Gaye. He came from the alley beside the building to join the group as if he were the leader of a secret club convening on the corner. Alexis reached for her notepad inside her purse and flipped a few pages as if she had a strong desire to sketch the scene. Willie urged her to ke
ep walking although they both couldn’t help but take continued glances at the gathering.
Knit cap tilted his chin in their direction as if to ask who they were. They were in a brief eyeball stand-off with his crew as both sides made sure that the other didn’t pose any immediate threat. Willie sighed with relief as the man with the knit cap smirked and waved them off as an unconcern as others gathered. Knit cap did an extended handshake with each of the men and just like that their meeting was over.
“That was—” Alexis said, consulting her notepad.
“Illegal drug distribution,” Willie added, “from the neighborhood dealer-man.” This was the man he kept from beating down Roy. This was also the man he had to continually ask to take his business somewhere other than the footpath beside his church. Why was he still on the street?
“Louis Crenshaw, I interviewed him the day of the fire.” Alexis said, staring at her pad as if it were playing the reel of her memory. “He spoke about a man admonishing people about hell from the church steps. I asked him about it afterward and he gladly gave up Roy’s name. I wonder if Chief Rich has gotten to him.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be a good idea—” Willie realized he was speaking to Alexis’s shadow as she stepped off the curb and proceeded to cross the street. He thanked God, Louis and crew dispersed. Willie could see his knit cap bobbing from side to side with his carefree gait and a few more loaded handshakes as he headed in the direction they had just came from.
Willie chased after Alexis’s vigorous pace. He didn’t want to call her name and make a scene. He had to jog and finally grabbed her arm as she dead-ended in a mob of people. Willie felt like an out of shape parent trying to keep up with his rebellious teenager.
“Where do you think you are going?” Willie fought to catch his breath. ”There are things street thugs like him don’t take too kindly to when conducting their business; police, police informants, and I’m pretty sure the third is nosy reporters.”
This time Willie was asking himself what he was doing here. He took a timeout on the bench under the empty bus alcove and Alexis followed suit.
She sat down hard. “I figured if he were bold enough to deal drugs on the street, he might be willing to talk to me again.”
“And say what?” When she didn’t answer, Willie replied, “Let’s just walk to the end of the block to see if Roy is hanging out up there. Then if you are hell bent to chase down Mr. Crenshaw, you’re on your own.”
There was a long moment of inactivity as both contemplated what this next hill meant. He looked left. It was an uphill climb. On one hand he could take this five minute walk up the hill. On the other hand, he had a fifteen minute drive to the dutiful sanctity of his church office. Why do I feel compelled to be here, he thought.
“Do you think Roy could have done it?” Alexis asked.
“Done what?”
“Burned the church. Even you questioned his sensibilities.”
“No, not the way he took shelter there.” Willie shook his head. “Even when the doors of the church weren’t open, he took shelter there. When he wasn’t in the shelter he was outside the church. He wouldn’t come in. He wouldn’t come home with me. He was outside the church with all his bags, his cart and his cardboard mat. Typical, no stereotypical, homeless sensibilities. Gosh, I regret leaving him to these streets.”
“You think Crenshaw and his gang could have done it then? Maybe it was a turf issue, and the church was blocking his business.” Alexis didn’t rest.
“Maybe it was a curse like Jacque and his brother down at the corner store seem to think. I don’t know, Alexis. I don’t want to believe any of it is true, because in my mind that means the gates of hell prevailed against the foundation of the church. And I can’t see how that can happen.”
“Typical,” Alexis finally sat back.
“What?”
Alexis couldn’t hide her annoyance. “What’s with you church people with your unyielding ideals that you flaunt as faith?”
“Excuse me?” Willie questioned. Who did this young woman think she was talking to? Willie was beginning to think it was time for them to part ways.
“I’m sorry, Pastor Willie, if I offended you, and I’m not talking about you, per se.” She blew out a puff of air.
“So you separate yourself from us, church people. What happened to your granddaddy, Bishop Montgomery, and the small home church that you just love?” Willie gibed.
“I consider myself a Christian. That’s right, I am a daughter of the kingdom and I know the kingdom of God is too big to be held indoors.”
“That’s just the excuse a wayward Christian gives for not affiliating with a church.”
“I make no excuse, Pastor Willie. I say all that to prove that I know that the building is just a representation of the foundation of Christ you carry inside. Buildings burn, grow too small, or fall down to disrepair, but your spirit should thrive with Christ,” Alexis said. “The question is, do these people who took over that church after you left have the spirit to come back so that the enemy does not prevail?”
They both seemed to exhale at the same time as they pondered the answer to that essential question. He could see the turmoil on her face. “Amen to that, Ms. Montgomery, but somewhere down the line you’ve been hurt, maybe even in church, which has left you with some unresolved issues,” Willie said.
“We’ve all got them,” Alexis stood and stomped her foot as if it had fallen asleep, “but this is not my exposé. Let’s find the man of the hour.”
“Certainly,” Willie resigned. “I need to take my tail on, so I won’t have any unresolved issues in my marriage.”
They began a deliberate pace up the hill, looking periodically over their shoulders for the neighborhood boys working the block. Past an abandoned building that appeared to be burned out, Willie thought he spotted a familiar silhouette. He was standing with a haggard looking woman who gave him a hug in exchange for something in his hand.
Willie stopped in his tracks. It took a minute before Alexis, who was trotting beside him, realized he wasn’t moving. Willie thumbed in the direction he was looking. Fear, humiliation, and anger took over him. Here he had been defending Roy to her, just to find him dealing the same drugs that destroyed his life.
Willie screamed his name across the divide. The fear that showed on Roy’s face after the sudden commotion turned swiftly to delight. Roy bid farewell to his customer and moved toward them. Willie had begun a visual inspection to assess Roy’s well being. His usual fetidness was downgraded to a mild rankness without the reeking of liquor.
“I’m so glad to see you, Reverend,” Roy greeted, squeezing tighter, causing his windbreaker to squish between them.
“I’m glad to see you also.” Willie peeled away, remembering what he saw. “What are you doing out here, Roy? I saw you hand that woman something. I know you’re not out here dealing.”
“Dealing hope, not dope,” he said with a sincere smile that never left his face, despite Willie’s accusation. Roy turned toward Alexis. “Certainly, not dope.”
“This is Alexis Montgomery. She’s a reporter,” Willie said.
“Nice to meet you,” she said a little too loudly.
Alexis offered him the bag of food she had bought earlier for him as if she were a deaf mute and suddenly couldn’t talk. Roy pulled out a snickers bar and a can of soup. A puzzled expression registered on his face.
“We’d like to talk to you. I, especially, would like to find out what you have been up to. Maybe we can take you to lunch at one of the fast food places and talk there.” Alexis said.
To Willie’s surprise, Roy expressed his preference of dining at the corner hotdog stand. He would have imagined a man whose next meal wasn’t a certainty would pick something heartier like a loaded submarine and soup from the Sandwich Shoppe. Willie and Alexis watched as he piled relish and onions on two polish sausages already lined with catsup and mustard. Willie couldn’t resist making himself a hotdog, chalking up the idea
that he’d make it to church to share lunch with his wife. Alexis cracked open her energy drink. There were not many places to sit, so they found an empty bench facing the most pathetic looking park in the quad where they found Roy earlier. There was only space for the two of them on the bench where the wood planks of the seat were dismantled leaving the space equivalent to a loveseat. Willie stood.
Alexis explained the events of the past couple of weeks as it related to her ongoing investigation of the church fire on the Inside 7 program. She didn’t wait for Roy to finish his lunch before telling him, “I want to discuss the possibility of doing a story on you and your relationship to the church . . . and uh, Pastor Willie here; okay?”
Roy was nodding his head before she could get it out, and continued to nod as if he had been waiting for someone to document his life. Willie wondered if he understood what he was agreeing to. He wanted to clarify that Roy would ultimately be on television and possibly be seen by the friends and family he hadn’t seen or talked to because of his addictions.
“Pastor Willie has told me you had to overcome so much in your life. Can you tell me about some of your struggles and how it has led you to where you are now?” Alexis said with all the patience of a pediatrician coaxing a child to describe where their ailment hurts. She was armed with a pad ready to record his every word.
“I was a certified junkie. I wanted the drugs more than air. Have you ever run out of air? It’s a terrible thing. You get lightheaded. I’ve been choked right out here on the terrace by a junkie. One of my best friends and I were supposed to share some blow, and I took too much.”
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