Up Pops the Devil

by Angela Benson

  He rang a couple of times before Jake appeared in the sidelights, still wearing the socks, T-shirt, and underpants he’d been wearing when Preacher had put him to bed. Preacher’s shock at his son answering the door was surpassed only by the joy that flashed on his son’s face at seeing him.

  He listened as Jake struggled with the lock, and then he scooped the boy into his arms when the door opened. Preacher held him close, too close, he guessed, since Jake squirmed a bit. Preacher relented and eased the boy to the floor, but not before giving him a kiss on the forehead and a second hug. He rubbed his hand across his son’s head, love filling his heart. “Morning, champ,” he said. “Where’s your momma?”

  Jake rubbed his eyes. “Bed,” he mumbled.

  Preacher caught the time on the foyer clock. Seven o’clock. Shouldn’t Tanya be up and getting the boys ready for school or day care or camp or something? “Come on then,” Preacher said. “Let’s go get dressed so we can get some breakfast.”

  Preacher headed to his boys’ room, pausing a long moment outside their bedroom to glance down the hall at the master bedroom door. He moved toward the master bedroom with Jake on his heels. He debated entering his old sleeping quarters without knocking but decided instead to rap on the door. “Tanya,” he called. “You all right in there?” When he got no answer, he knocked again.

  “Go back to bed, boys,” she mumbled. “Momma’s still sleeping.”

  Still sleeping on a weekday? Preacher rapped again. “Tanya, it’s me, Preacher. It’s time to get up and get these boys ready for the day.” When she didn’t respond, he said, “Tanya, do you hear me?”

  “The whole neighborhood probably hears you,” she said, pulling open the door.

  Preacher’s eyes roamed her scantily clad body; she hadn’t bothered to put on a robe over the short pajamas. Before he could stop them, memories of the nights he and Tanya had shared in this room and that bed filled his mind. The smug grin that he saw when his eyes made their way back to her face told him she knew exactly where his thoughts were.

  Tanya leaned down and kissed Jake, giving Preacher an extended view of her cleavage in the process. “Morning, baby,” she said. “Go put on some pants so we can have breakfast.” She patted her son’s backside and sent him off. Then she looked up at Preacher. “See something you like, Preacher boy?” she teased. She opened the door wider and inclined her head toward the bed. “I’ll make you a deal. You put the boys back to bed and I’ll put you back to bed.”

  Preacher recognized temptation for what it was and he was reminded of Barnard’s skepticism at his plan to move back in with Tanya. He had discounted his friend’s concern then, but now he saw the wisdom of it. It was going to be difficult to stay in this house with Tanya and not sleep with her. It’d been two years since they’d been together, a lifetime ago and a minute ago all rolled into one.

  Tanya’s laugh brought him out of his thoughts. “You’re a trip, Preacher. You know you want me. It’s been two years since you’ve had a woman.” She tipped her head to the side. “Or maybe you prefer a man these days?”

  Whatever desire had been building within Preacher fizzled with those words. He counted it a blessing. “Get dressed. The boys need breakfast and they need to get to school.”

  “School’s out.”

  “I thought you had Mack in day care and Jake in year-round school.”

  “Well,” Tanya said, with a toss of her hair. She turned and went back toward the bed. “That was when we had money.”

  Preacher widened his eyes. “What’s this about money?” he asked, following her. “I left more than enough money in your account to last you two years. What did you do with it?”

  Tanya plopped down on the side of the bed. “I had expenses, Preacher.”

  “What kind of expenses?” he demanded, standing over her. “What expenses were more important than our children’s welfare?”

  Tanya lifted defiant greenish brown eyes to him. “You knew what kind of woman I was when you hooked up with me, Preacher. I need things, nice things, and nice things cost money. I need to go to nice places, and nice places cost money. I need to pamper myself, and that costs money. The cash you left was gone before you were settled into your cell.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Preacher said, thinking of the sum he’d left. “How could you spend that much money?”

  “It was easy. I was lonely, and the lonelier I was, the more I spent. I didn’t sign up for this kind of life, Preacher. I need parties, fun, people. Not this.”

  “What are you saying, Tanya?” Preacher asked.

  “You heard me.”

  “Are you threatening to leave me, take my kids?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not threatening anything. As long as you can take care of me and the kids, we’re here, but when you can’t, we’ll have to find someone who can.” She tossed her long mane of hair over her shoulder. “I’m not getting any younger, so I don’t have a lot of time to waste. I don’t understand why you’re trying to start a new life when you could easily go back to your old one.”

  Preacher leaned back against the dresser. “You actually want me to pick up where I left off when I was arrested? You’ve got to be joking. Why would I take that kind of risk with my future, your future, our kids’ futures? Can’t you see I want to build something good with you, Tanya? I want to give you more than I promised you, but this time I want to do it legally, in a way that you and the boys can be proud, in a way that doesn’t bring violence and danger and possible imprisonment to our door. I want to be a good husband to you and a good father to our kids. Are you telling me you don’t want that?”

  Tanya pulled the covers up on the king-sized bed. “That sounds all well and good,” she said, “but how are you going to do it? What’s your plan? How long is it going to take?”

  “A little longer now that we don’t have the seed money I thought we had,” he said. He still couldn’t believe she’d spent all the money. He hoped she was lying—he wouldn’t put it past her—so he’d check the balances himself.

  “You can always get money from Loretta,” she suggested.

  Preacher shook his head. “No money from Loretta. I’ve told you and I’ve told her. It’s no good. You know I want my sister out of the business. I’m not taking money from her.”

  “Hmmph,” Tanya said.

  “And neither will you, Tanya,” Preacher ordered. “Nobody in this house takes money from Loretta. Do you hear me?”

  “I hear you, but it’s too late. Loretta’s already been helping us out.”

  “What?”

  She stood and headed toward the master bath. “You heard me. She’s been helping out. She’s been good to me and the boys even though you haven’t been that nice to her since you found God or whatever. Loretta’s your sister, and she loves you. She’s been there for you through all of this. I don’t see how you can cut her off the way you have. She’d never do that to you.”

  Preacher didn’t bother giving an explanation because he knew Tanya wouldn’t get it. He wondered if she even wanted to. “I’ll get the boys ready,” he said, “and we’ll meet you downstairs for breakfast. I’ll cook.”

  “Whatever.”

  Preacher gave her one last look and left the room. As he bathed and dressed the boys, he prayed for the Lord’s hand on his family.

  Barnard closed the door of his office in Faith Community Church and came back to join his prayer partner and Preacher’s soon-to-be business mentor, Luther Brown. “Preacher and Wayne should be here in about an hour,” he told the sixty-five-year-old man who’d been like a father to him since he and his sister had moved to Atlanta seven years ago. He sat across from Luther at the oval table.

  “How you holding up?” Luther asked with a knowing glance that was very familiar to Barnard.

  “I’m good,” Barnard responded. Even as he spoke the words, he knew Luther wouldn’t accept them at face value.

  Luther leaned back in his chair and raised a brow. “So thi
ngs with you and Serena are getting better?”

  Barnard sighed. What was the use in trying to scam Luther? A few months ago, Barnard had summoned the courage to tell Luther about his problems with Serena. Both problems: the bedroom and the adoption. “Not really,” he said. “But they aren’t getting any worse.”

  “That doesn’t sound too good,” the older man said.

  “Well,” Barnard said, “it could be worse.”

  Luther leaned forward, all serious now. “I don’t see how,” he said. “From what you tell me, your relationship with Serena is missing a critical element. Sex is not the be all and end all of a relationship, but it’s important.”

  “I love her,” Barnard said in defense of both him and Serena.

  “I know you do,” Luther said. “But I also see a growing resentment in you.”

  Barnard closed his eyes, sighing again. Was he that transparent? “I’m handling it,” he said. “The Lord is giving me the strength to handle it.”

  Now Luther sighed. “Have you told Serena how you feel?”

  “I’ve talked to her about adoption.”

  “And the other?”

  Barnard looked away. “I can’t,” he said.

  “You have to,” Luther encouraged. “You both need to talk this through, maybe talk it over with a counselor. You aren’t the first couple to have problems in the bedroom and you won’t be the last.”

  “It’s not that serious, Luther,” Barnard said. “Things will work out.”

  “Don’t fool yourself, Barnard,” Luther said. “And don’t turn away from the help that God provides. You don’t have to suffer this way.”

  Barnard gave a dry laugh. “You make it sound like I’m dying.”

  Luther shook his head. “No, you’re not dying, but I wonder about your relationship with Serena. Is it strong and viable? Are you growing closer to her every day?”

  “I love her,” Barnard repeated, refusing to have his marriage examined any further.

  It was Luther’s time to sigh. He checked his watch. “Wayne and Preacher will be here shortly. Why don’t we pray before they get here?”

  Barnard nodded and bowed his head.

  “Father,” Luther began, “we come to you in the name of Jesus, our Savior, giving you all honor and glory for who You are and for what you’ve done for us. We thank you, Lord, that the challenges you put before us are not insurmountable. Father, I pray now for my brother Barnard, and my dear, dear sister Serena. I pray Lord that the physical intimacy you designed for marriage might be realized in their lives. I pray that whatever barriers hinder their physical closeness be identified and removed. I pray that the unity of spirit they share as one in marriage might be demonstrated in a physical relationship that celebrates that unity. I pray these things in Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  Preacher was fuming when he reached the church later that morning for his meeting with Barnard, Wayne Dixon, his probation officer, and Luther Brown, his new business mentor. As soon as he’d opened the garage he’d seen where Tanya had spent much of their money—cars. A Benz G55 SUV that had to cost a hundred grand and a Porsche 911 convertible that must have cost even more. Was the woman crazy? Even when he was in the business, he’d kept a low profile. Nice cars like the Acura he was driving now—the one she’d driven to pick him up in yesterday—a nice home in a moderately upscale neighborhood, but nothing that would draw undue attention to him and his business dealings. Apparently, Tanya didn’t share his restraint. She’d gone over the top, and he’d have to deal with her and her purchases soon. He’d counted on the money she’d spent to buy them into a legitimate business of some kind. The business skills he’d once used for evil, he now planned to use for good. He’d excelled at his old profession and he knew he’d do as well at a legit one, maybe even better, since he was dedicating his new work to the Lord. Now he faced his first glitch. No, correct that, his first two glitches. Tanya had spent the money and then she’d gone to Loretta for more. He’d have to deal with both women. Soon.

  Barnard met him at the door to the Living and Learning Center at Faith Community Church. “Morning, man,” he said. “Nervous?”

  “A little,” Preacher said, realizing he was.

  “Don’t be. Luther and Wayne are both Christians and good people. We’re all here to help. Okay?”

  “Okay.” As Preacher followed Barnard down a wide hallway he wondered at the transition of other ex-convicts. He knew he was fortunate to have Barnard and the Faith Community Prison Ministry on his side. Their counseling and support coupled with the computer and business classes he’d taken on the inside gave him better odds than most. He was determined to make the best of his opportunity.

  When he followed Barnard into an office off the wide hallway, he immediately recognized Wayne Dixon, the young brother who was his probation officer. They’d met before at the prison. Preacher still thought Wayne looked much too young and soft to be a probation officer. His look said grade-school teacher more than it said probation officer.

  “Good to see you, Preacher,” Wayne said, before Preacher could greet him. “I like the new clothes.”

  All the men laughed, which caused Preacher to relax a bit. “I sorta like ’em, too,” he said. He was more than happy to be back in his old street clothes. Fortunately, he was a conservative dresser—tan linen slacks and a light shirt—so his clothes didn’t go in and out of style. “I think the color fits me better.”

  When the second round of laughter died down, the man Preacher knew had to be Luther Brown extended his hand. “Good to meet you, Preacher. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

  Preacher shook the older man’s hand. Now this guy had the look of a successful entrepreneur, from his pinstriped tie to his ’gator shoes. “Same here. From Barnard’s description, I sorta expected to see you walking on water.”

  Luther chuckled. “He must have been referring to my wife. I’m a mere mortal and don’t do much water walking.”

  Preacher decided he liked this man and he knew he wouldn’t have a problem working with him. “I appreciate what you’re doing for me,” he said to Luther. Then including the other men, he added, “You all, too. I want you to know I’m not going to blow this second chance I’ve been given. I want to make the Lord proud of me and y’all, too.”

  “Well, that’s what we like to hear,” Barnard said, ushering the men to a small table in the corner of his office. “Attitude is half the battle with the transition back to the outside.” He inclined his head toward Wayne.

  “I’ll start first,” Wayne said, handing a probation fact sheet to the others at the table. “This sheet outlines the general terms of your probation,” he said to Preacher. “We went over it in detail before you were released, but I want to reiterate a few points for the four of us. First, no contact with anyone in your old business, anyone involved in illegal activity, or anyone with a criminal past.”

  Preacher nodded. He had heard all this before.

  “Second,” Wayne continued, “no travel outside the jurisdiction of the Court without my knowledge and permission. Third, your home and your workplace are subject to be searched at any time. No cause needed. It’s a term of probation.”

  “A term which causes many prospective employers to balk at hiring people on parole or probation,” Barnard interjected. “Who am I kidding? Prospective employers balk at hiring anybody with a criminal history. The search condition just makes them more wary.”

  “You’re right,” Wayne said, “but that’s the way it is. On the one hand the criminal justice system is saying that imprisonment is for rehabilitation, while on the other hand, it’s saying that it has very little faith in its ability to rehabilitate.”

  “I don’t mind the premise searches much,” Luther said. “I like the idea of the employer knowing that Big Brother is watching. It gives everybody incentive to keep their noses clean—employer and employee. Since I have nothing to hide, it doesn’t bother me at all.”

  “You’re in the minor
ity, Luther,” Barnard said. “The premises search is the biggest hindrance I face when lining up prospective employers.”

  “I hear you, man,” Wayne said, “but there’s nothing I can do. Workplace and home searches are core to criminal supervision services.” He turned to Preacher. “Even more invasive than the workplace search, Preacher,” he said, “is the home search. Your living premises are more likely to be searched and more often.”

  Preacher nodded. “I know that and it’s one of the reasons, though not the primary reason, I’m living in an apartment above the garage in my former home. I don’t relish the idea of the cops coming in and scaring my children.”

  Wayne grimaced. “I hate to tell you this, but because of the layout of that garage apartment, specifically that interior door in your kitchen that opens to the stairs down to the kitchen in the main house, the entire house is subject to search.”

  “What? I thought we had agreed—”

  “I know,” Barnard said, “and I’m sorry. I didn’t think that door would be a problem, especially since it has a lock on both sides. I’m sorry, man.”

  Preacher wondered what more bad news they had for him. “There’s nothing we can do?”

  “Nothing short of walling in that door,” Barnard answered, “and I’m not sure that’s something you want to do, especially since you and Tanya plan on getting married soon.”

  “She’s not going to like the idea of the home searches. I know this one is going to lead to an argument.”

  Luther chuckled. “I feel you, brother.”

  Preacher tried to keep his spirits up as he listened to the rest of Wayne’s rules, including the mandatory monthly trips to the probation office, but it was hard not to see the next two years of life on the outside almost as confining as life on the inside.

  When Wayne wrapped up, it was Luther’s turn. “Barnard told me about your entrepreneurial bent, and your desire to start a legitimate business,” he said to Preacher. “After talking with Wayne here, we think the best way to get you to the point of buying into a business or purchasing a franchise is for you to work in the business as an employee first.”