Willie didn’t get two feet around the long flanks of wood before Abe called out to him. “No, about the church. We’re going to expand on the lot out back. We could have a full pantry back there. I’d love to carry out some of the vision you had for this place.”
“What is your vision, huh? Pray to the Lord and ask for your anointing,” Willie said, turning. “Might I remind you that to whom much is given, much is required.”
Willie almost felt sorry for the young minister who appeared to hang his head in shame. Blanche dropped his hand and turned toward the altar with her hand over her mouth as if in her own prayer.
“I’ve been preaching in your shadow ever since my uncle introduced me to this church. There was many a day I felt like giving up, coming to someone like yourself and being an apprentice of your pulpit. Any given day I just as soon hand the keys back over to you. Preaching is one thing; shepherding is a whole ’nother story. It’s serious business.” Willie heard the quiver in Abe’s voice. “I so don’t want to misstep.”
In two steps Willie was up in Abe’s face like a drill sergeant. “You think you are going to get sympathy from me? I don’t want to hear that, Townsend. You sat in arbitration and made like you were ready. You are here for a reason. Don’t you dare take your hand off the plow now.”
The Holy Spirit brought back to Willie’s remembrance a not so private meeting he had had here with Abe’s Uncle Charley, where Willie lowered himself and slapped him. Willie turned to walk away before that same urge hit him. He turned on a dime as if he forgot something. “You’re busy courting and making plans; when was the last time you’ve seen your uncle or your aunt? I just left the jail seeing your uncle, your member. He shouldn’t have forced your aunt to leave the state, but has Elaine talked to him or been to see him at all?”
“He hits her, Pastor. That’s why she hasn’t been to see him. My Uncle Charley has been abusing my aunt for years.” Abe’s words seemed to knock the wind out of the Big Bad Wolf.
Once again, Willie tried to see past the charred roof to catch a glimpse of heaven. Obviously he didn’t know the full story. He tried a new approach. Lowering his voice significantly he said, “When do they begin to heal?”
“After he faces the fate of the fire,” Abe said.
Willie paced in a mini circle. He should have left when he originally planned to, because the overwhelming desire to help was on him again. “He said he didn’t do it. He told me himself. The first words out of his mouth were to me, and he said he didn’t do it.”
“He was there, Pastor. My aunt showed me a metal lock box discolored from the heat of the fire that my uncle brought home,” Abe said, with a raised voice and elevated emotions.
“And he’s a batterer,” Blanche added from afar.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make him an arsonist.” Willie had his hands on his waist. He kicked rubble as he thought aloud. “He deserves to be held accountable for harming his wife, but my compassion lies with the both of them. Everybody’s written him off, including his lawyers. I wish I could talk to Elaine, if it’s even possible. The last time I saw her was on—”
Willie grabbed his head with both hands as if the sky was falling on top of him. A picture flashed in his mind, the one captured by Alexis’s cameraman on Easter Sunday that Chief Rich brought by for them to ID people. Everyone was dressed up, everyone familiar, but now, one was clearly out of place. Willie thought about what Brother Brown had said at Sunday dinner. “Arsonists love to hang around a scene and see their own work.” Why was she really visiting with them at Pleasant Harvest on Easter Sunday?
The pictures began falling into place like snapshots in a slideshow. Willie bolted for the front door almost knocking over Pastor Kennedy and his sister-in-law who apparently had come to check on him, but he hadn’t seen come in. He broke the seal on the door that opened like it was vacuum compressed or warped from extreme heat and took the stairs to Lincoln Avenue. Despite hearing his name being called by all that assembled at Harvest Church that afternoon, he walked between cars, waiting at the light like a crazed man until he reached his destination.
The bell announced Willie’s arrival as one of the Brothers Jacques arose from behind the counter perch. Willie’s hunch was not on coffee stirrers, but rather little red caps. Charley had said he was cursed, and Willie remembered Charley’s lack of fondness for women preachers had led him to use that term before regarding his wife. The only other people that he knew regularly used that term were the Jacques Brothers. He figured now there was more to their voodoo babble.
“Hey, Preacher man,” the younger more enthusiastic one cheered. ”You can’t stay away.”
“Awhile ago you said a woman was stirring up something,” Willie said, demonstrating a stirring motion with an imaginary bowl and spoon. He was shouting as if the brother was hard of hearing. “Where is it?”
“Ah, I remember, the priestess. Usually so mild, came in like a storm that day. Was I right?”
“Please, just show me what was it that she bought from you?”
Jacque’s long narrow finger pointed him down the aisle. “There is one bottle left. We haven’t re-ordered, fearing she’ll come back.”
Willie searched the aisle like a man ailing in need of the last bottle of pain reliever. He came to a row lined up with toiletries that the brothers sold for their customers’ convenience or emergencies. He saw a void in the display before spotting a lone bottle of nail polish remover pushed in the back, secured with a little red cap.
Willie brought the last bottle back to the counter with him as if he were going to purchase it. “You’ve known all along. You’ve got to tell the chief what the lady bought from your store, and when. That is critical information in the investigation of the church fire across the street.”
They were the exact opposites. Willie felt like a raving lunatic while Jacque was careless and unconcerned. “Why do you care, Preacher? You’ve moved on.”
“Because it’s the truth. You’ve got to tell what you know.”
He turned away from Willie as if he couldn’t bear to look at him. “Le temps nous dira—”
“In English,” Willie demanded before he could finish.
“Time will tell, but I won’t. Only a fool interferes with a curse,” the brother said, taking leave of the conversation on his perch behind the counter.
Willie thought about going over the counter after him, but didn’t. He dropped the bottle of nail polish remover on the counter and carried the weight of knowing out the door.
Willie stumbled out the door like a man with amnesia. He stopped on a patch of grass that rimmed the sidewalk with Jacques’s store in the background. He didn’t know his name. He didn’t know the people encircling him, and he definitely didn’t know what to do with the facts he had put together.
“He didn’t do it,” Willie said, looking at all of them—Blanche, and Abe, Keisha, and Pastor Kennedy. He bent at the waist as if from a sudden pain. “I know—he didn’t. It was Elaine Thompson, all along. It was his wife.”
“Wait; that can’t be,” Abe said.
“Are you all right bro? It’s gonna be all right. Just sit on the curb here,” Keisha said, taking him by the arm and leading him to the solid stability of the ground.
“She bought almost the entire stock of flammable polish remover from the brothers there, did her deed, and came to Pleasant Harvest for the day.” Willie said more so for himself. “Why on earth would she come directly over to Harvest with us when we found out about the fire instead of going directly home to check on her husband or anyone else she cared about at her own church? I remember now; pale blue suit, pillbox hat, and a smile to beat the band. All captured in a photo. We were all praising, but she . . . she seemed to be cheering. She wasn’t devastated over the loss of her church; she was a spectator.”
“This doesn’t make any sense. My Aunt Elaine is the sweetest, meekest, most generous woman I know,” Abe said, shaking his head as if he could somehow prevent those though
ts from entering his brain.
“Oh my God!” Willie’s face lit with the beam of an ‘ah-ha’ moment, then immediately drooped. He brought his hand to his face to cover it.
“Bro?” Keisha knelt in front of him.
“She had his car,” Willie said so loud Keisha had to back away. “It was late and she had parked so far away. I sent Mac to walk her down the street. He commented about the Cadillac Grand. That’s his car.”
“Why, though? Why would she do something like that?” Abe asked, reeling from his own thoughts.
“Why?” Willie parroted. “You said yourself that she was abused. Who knows what lies in the hearts of the scorned?”
“So what are you going to do now?” Blanche asked from the background. “Oh, you should call your friend the reporter.”
Willie shook his head as if he hadn’t thought that far. This was not about a story to him; this was a sad reality. He wiped his face with the flat of his hand.
Pastor Kennedy stepped down off the curb in front of Willie, which seemed to take close to a foot off his already small stature. “You’re going to do what you do every Sunday, son. You protect the truth and be that lens. Go to the authorities and show them what they couldn’t or didn’t want to see.”
Chapter 28
A Bishop’s Worth
The second Sunday in the month of September in the year of the fateful Easter fire, Willie Green preached a message to his congregation from Genesis where Jacob wrestled with the Spirit of the Lord, saying, ‘I will not let go until thou bless me.’ Willie titled his sermon, Before, I Let Go. He had done his own wrestling with the Lord since calling both Chief Rich and Charley’s attorney and sharing what he knew. It helped release some of his guilt and hopefully release his guardianship over the Harvest Baptist Church. Then spent four days at home on vacation staring into his wife’s wide-nosed face and rubbing her roly-poly belly. It was the first time in the seven months of her pregnancy he got to truly cater to her around the clock.
Around the same time, Elaine Thompson admitted to setting the Harvest Baptist Church on fire. Her guilt did not totally exonerate her husband of his wrongdoings, but it was out of Willie’s hand. He gave Alexis the heads up, and she was able to run another chapter of the Easter Sunday Inferno series. The Inside 7 segment, the show Alexis was officially the new co-host of, was the only coverage he watched. His congregants let him know that there were several snippets of different courtroom analysts on various channels, speculating as to why Elaine Thompson set the blaze. Theories meandered around her wanting to hurt her husband by burning down his beloved church and setting him up for doing it as payback for the abuse in the process. The only quote recorded from her was, “I did it for Charley.”
By day five, Vanessa was pushing Willie out of the house to a meeting of the Trinity Conference’s Steering Committee and Executive Board. He put on one of his designer suits even though it was a Saturday. He didn’t want to look like a slouch in comparison to the small league of pastors he was about to convene with. He looked forward to reconnecting with his new friend, Syllas Kennedy.
Reverend Kennedy suggested they meet outside of the Randolph Baptist Church where the meeting was to be held. Willie thought it was a good idea so that he could go over the ropes of what to expect. The old man was already there when Willie walked up.
“Reverend.” Willie extended his hand.
“Pastor, for today,” Kennedy said. “You know, for appearances. Wouldn’t want the brethren to think you were talking down to me.”
“I see,” Willie said, taken aback. “Why don’t we go inside?”
“It’s so nice out, why don’t we talk out here? Better enjoy this Indian summer while we can.” Kennedy hobbled over to the gated railing. Willie followed, getting concerned about what his friend might share about the conference that he wanted to keep out of earshot.
“You’ve been mighty scarce these days. I returned your call to say I’ve been well, and your associate said you were out in the field. Preparing for another mission?” Willie asked, standing on a lower step that made eye level comparable for the two men.
“Preparing for this meeting, and you know, visiting other ministries.”
“Well, I feel totally unprepared. I called Pastor Cartwright and told him Budget and Finance might have been right up Vanessa’s alley, but it was not a good fit for me. I told him I could help chair another committee. So what do you say? Is there room on your committee for me?” Willie asked.
“I’m sorry, that’s not going to be possible.”
Willie tried not to be offended. He felt like a kid being rejected by the neighborhood clubhouse. He knew this affiliation was a bad idea. “Is your committee super exclusive or something?”
“Actually it is, but not in the way you think. It’s what I want to talk to you about before the meeting. I am on the Bishop Selection committee. Three of us have been interviewing pastors on everything from faith, family, and ministry worldview to come up with our nominees for the opening conference. Each one of us had to come up with one name.” Pastor Kennedy gave him time to let it sink in. “I choose you. I’d like to submit your name today as a candidate for bishop of this conference.”
“Bishop?” Willie said, bracing himself on the railing to keep himself from falling down the remaining stairs from the shock. “You want me to join the ranks of those with self imposed titles?”
“This is not a self imposed title, but one granted on merit,” Kennedy corrected. “Is the title Bishop mentioned in the Bible?”
“Yeah, but interchangeably with pastor or elder,” Willie said.
“Faithful, sober, husband of one wife, hospitable, apt to teach, is that not you?” He raised one over-grown eyebrow at his inquiry.
“Or anyone else on the Executive Board.” Willie realized he didn’t know those people, and they didn’t know him. “Probably?”
“I’ve watched you, Willie Green. The Lord allowed me to visit on one of the most hectic and chaotic days for you, and you still came out smelling like a rose. You were caring and compassionate even when you didn’t want to be. You minister everywhere you go. You minister with your heart. You’re my man.”
Willie stared at the man standing above him as if he were a Jedi Master telling him he was the chosen one. It was humbling and hard to digest.
“Don’t I have to accept this nomination?”
“Yes, then there is a six month vetting process. Campaigns can officially begin three months prior to conference. At the conference you will be elected and serve a two year term. Don’t worry, the first year you don’t even lead, but get a healthy endowment to develop your platform and approve conference-wide ministry projects.”
“We’re talking three years of my life.” Willie did the math.
“Maybe more if we get the right man in. We’re hoping to push the term to the limit to set a precedent.”
“I have a wife and a child on the way. I can’t forge that kind of time,” Willie said.
They paused to say hello to a couple of colleagues who also got there early. Kennedy took great care in introducing Willie. He waited until the men were inside before beginning again.
“It’s because you have a wife in ministry with you and such a supportive team that you are able to do this. The endowment will help you hire some people to help you keep it all on track. I think Vanessa will be ecstatic. Huh?”
Apparently he didn’t know Vanessa either, Willie thought. Trinity was her idea and reaching peaks of leadership was her dream. Ecstatic would not be the right word to express Vanessa’s reaction.
Willie shook his head. “You tricked me, old man. All the time you’ve been spying on me. I invited you into my cave, and you keep a secret like this.”
“Caves are tombs, and you can’t continue to bury yourself inside one. You’ve shown and proven you have a broader definition of ministry. C’mon, don’t fight me on this.” This time it was Pastor Kennedy’s turn to act offended. Willie sort of felt like a
heel for disagreeing with him.
More and more pastors ascended the steps making it apparent that the meeting was about to start and Willie needed to make a decision. He already felt like he was campaigning with his fake smile frozen into place as he was introduced to the stakeholders of the conference.
“This is not something you spring on a man. It’s a lot to think about, and you know my personal feelings about those self-aggrandizing hierarchies,” Willie whispered as a few others followed suit and took in the warmth of the day before sitting in the brisk air-conditioning throughout the meeting.
“That is why out of all the people I interviewed, you are the man for the job, because you question the status-quo. I believe in you.”
Willie laughed. “This is irony at its finest.”
“God’s intervention. Maybe it is your destiny to prove a bishop’s worth.” He turned on unsteady hips to make his way inside. “I can submit your name now or not. It’s your call unless you need to talk it over with Vanessa and clear it with her first.”
Maybe this was his destiny, Willie thought. Pastor Kennedy had raised many strong arguments. None were as convincing as his last off-handed comment about his wife, and for that reason alone did he say yes to the nomination of Bishop.
Epilogue
Vanessa went along for the ride with her family on a drive-by. Willie, Keisha, and Paul were her accomplices as she once again broke the rules her obstetrician put in place for her bed rest. Typically they would take Vanessa to her bi-weekly, turned weekly, appointments, and then off on some excursion that usually ended at some restaurant.
Vanessa was playing a game with her condition. Each time her doctor would report how pleased she was with Vanessa and the baby’s progression, she would also warn her to be diligently well-rested as she neared her due date. She felt like a player in the game of baseball, sneaking off base and hoping not to get caught. One time they drove by the bridal shop so that Vanessa could see her baby sister in her top two choices of bridal gowns. She sat in a chair provided by the boutique the entire time while the guys sat in the car. Another time she met the wedding entertainer, a guy by the name of Phil Harmonic, who could play “Handel’s Messiah” and a host of classic love ballads like Billy Preston’s, “You Are So Beautiful” on the harmonica. Just last week, they drove past the reception hall for a cake tasting. Most times she was so far off base she slid into home exhausted and barely able to make it up her stairs to bed.
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