Drama in the Church Saga

by Dynah Zale

  Danyelle disregarded Reverend Baxter’s odd behavior and pulled out a pile of papers from her bag.

  Colin chewed on the end of his pencil while looking over her class schedule.

  “You’re going to get lead poisoning if you keep doing that.” She reached across his desk, pulled the pencil from his mouth, then threw it in the trashcan.

  Colin appreciated her gentle chastising. She reminded him of his foster mother. Brassy and bossy. Then he focused his attention back to her schedule. “Why did you pick these three classes?” He pointed with his finger.

  “I really didn’t have a choice. Most of the classes I wanted were already full. If you could help me find two more classes, then I’ll have a full schedule for the spring semester.”

  He nodded his head while searching through different screens on his computer.

  “But it would be great if you could get me morning classes.”

  He questioned her preference with his eyes.

  “I usually work in the afternoons and evenings.”

  “Would you be interested in this?” He pointed to his screen. “It’s a class called ‘The facts behind the book of Isaiah.’ ”

  Danyelle jumped up from her seat and looked over the reverend’s shoulder. “I tried to sign up for that class, but the counselor at the registrar’s office told me it was closed.”

  “It is closed, but if you get the instructor’s permission you can still sit in on his class,” Colin educated her.

  “Really?” Danyelle knew it would be worth it to hold on and God would open a few doors for her. “Do you know the instructor?”

  “You’re talking to him. I can lift the closed status long enough to add your name to the roster.” He punched a few keys. “And, ta-da, you’re in.”

  Danyelle felt God’s favor shine down on her. “Thank you, Reverend Montgomery.” Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. “I really appreciate this.” When she noticed how warm his body felt next to her, she quickly stepped back away from him.

  “Please.” He enjoyed feeling her body so close to his. He placed her hand in his. “You can call me Colin.”

  His touch placed a fire down in her pants that she had never felt before. Her heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. Whatever she was feeling scared her enough to run from him. “Reverend—I mean Colin—I have to go.” She hurriedly grabbed her book bag to leave.

  “What about your other classes?” he asked.

  “That’s all right. I’m fine with just three,” she hollered out before closing the door behind her.

  Colin smiled. He knew there was something special about her.

  Chapter 5

  Val banged her head against the car’s steering wheel three times before her vision became blurred and she had to stop. “What am I doing here?” The rows of headstones surrounding her car pulled her back to reality. This was Julian’s final resting place, and she was there to say good-bye.

  It was her fifth attempt that week at trying to visit his grave. Each time before, she could never find the strength to get out of the car, but this time she prayed for God to hold her hand along the way.

  It was hard for her to accept that Julian was gone. In her mind she understood that he was gone, but the gaping hole left in her heart kept growing every day. That’s why she was there. She wanted closure. She thought that if she could feel his name etched in his headstone then she would be able to move on.

  Not a day passed when she didn’t ask God to turn back the hands of time. Just this once, she wanted to play God and change life events.

  It was time for her to face her fears. Val swung her car door open. When she stepped out into the brisk air, that’s when she noticed her labored breathing. Anxiety swelled in her belly, and doubts filled her head. She wasn’t sure if she could do this.

  She pulled out from her pocket a map the groundskeeper had given her. He said it would take her straight to Julian’s grave. Her hands shook from nervousness. She set out on her journey and followed the directions through the maze of gravesites until she came upon another visitor who was crying hysterically at their loved one’s final resting place.

  “I’m so sorry,” the girl repeated while lying face down on top of the grave. Her clothes were full of dirt stains, and a small shovel lay by her side. She had just finished planting flowers, and her cries were so loud that she didn’t notice she had company.

  Val didn’t want to intrude. She sympathized with this girl. She understood the kind of grief she was experiencing.

  The temperatures were predicted to reach no higher than fifteen degrees. It was far too cold for anyone to be lying out on the ground, and Val began to wonder if this wasn’t the Lord’s work at hand. She thought perhaps she could have someone to talk to about the way she was feeling.

  “Excuse me.” Val softly tapped her shoulder. “You look like you could use a friend to talk to.”

  The girl swept the hair away from her face and sat up. When she turned around, all of Val’s sympathy instantly vanished and was replaced with disbelief. Val was stunned to see her face. It was Caitlyn from Seattle. Val’s eyes darted to the tombstone of the grave she cried over. It was Julian’s.

  “How dare you show up here?” Val viciously hollered.

  “I-I-I,” Caitlyn stuttered.

  Then Val hit her with a right hook straight in the jaw. “Why can’t you just leave us alone?” Val jumped on top of her and flung her arms wildly at Caitlyn’s face.

  Caitlyn was powerless against the blows Val threw. She was so full of remorse that all she could do was cry out, “I’m sorry!”

  Val beat Caitlyn’s face until her fists began to hurt. By the time she stopped, Caitlyn’s face was so bloody, she hardly recognized her. She got up off Caitlyn and pointed in her face. “You’re not welcome here.” Val walked over and pulled out the flowers Caitlyn had planted and flung them as far away from Julian as she could. Then she staggered back to her car and pulled off.

  The moment Dean stepped foot in his grandpa’s attic he felt like a little boy again. He stared at the low beams he used to swing from and the dusty boxes he would duck behind when playing hide-and-seek with his grandfather. He wiped a few cobwebs out of his way so he could get a better look at the place. “Nothing’s changed.”

  “Remind me why we’re here again.” Olivia stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “I have to find the deed to the house.” Dean broke away from her embrace. “That’s the only collateral I have to get my grandpa a lawyer.”

  “How can you retain a lawyer when your grandpa is still refusing your visits?” Olivia shadowed Dean’s every move as he pushed boxes around. “Doesn’t it bother you that your grandpa won’t talk to anyone? He’s turned you and Reverend Simms away. He won’t even talk with his public defender.”

  Dean’s eyesight turned blurry and he suddenly felt faint. Scared he was going to fall, he held his hand out to steady himself.

  “Are you okay?” Olivia saw that he didn’t look too well.

  He held on to her hand tight as Olivia led him to sit on a nearby box. “I’m fine. It’s so cold up here. I think that blast of cool air caught me off guard.” He closed his eyes for a second and squeezed her hand tighter.

  “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” Her voice was full of concern.

  He didn’t want her to worry about him, so he swiftly pointed the conversation in a different direction. “Do you think he’s capable of murder?”

  Caught off guard by his question, Olivia answered the best she could. “The first time I heard that news report accusing Judge West of killing a twelve-year-old black boy back in the sixties, I was sure this was some kind of political conspiracy to hurt the black community by filing bogus charges against someone we all love and trust. That man has become our foundation, and if we lose that, our foundation crumbles. Last night I thought he could be protecting somebody. That would help explain why he won’t
see you. He’s probably scared.”

  “I’m sure he is scared. He’s a white man being accused of killing a black kid in the South. I also think he’s embarrassed to look anyone in the face.” He patted Olivia on her back and stood to his feet. “We need to get started looking for those documents. I promised Bryce we could go to the movies later this afternoon.”

  “I’ll start with those boxes over there.” She pointed to a box sitting in the far corner, while Dean began laboring through another box in the opposite corner of the room.

  Dean pulled open the flaps and dug his hand deep inside pulling out a mound of Polaroids. He browsed through them, finding snapshots of him he never remembered posing for. Then a picture of his parents brought his journey down memory lane to an abrupt halt. He analyzed the loving picture of his mom and dad together.

  This was the closest he had ever been to a picture of his parents. His grandpa refused to hang any pictures of them in the house. All pictures of his mom and dad were kept locked away. He remembered his grandma telling him that having pictures of his parents around was too painful for his grandpa to handle.

  Every so often his grandma would surprise him by pulling out a picture of them. But he was never allowed to keep it for long, and she always made him promise to never tell Grandpa.

  His grandma always said he was a carbon copy of his father. This was the first time he got to see for himself the close resemblance. Dean thought they shared the same square jaw line, build and smile. It was obvious where his perfect bronze tan came from. The woman with beautiful dark brown skin and curly hair was no doubt his mother. A shockwave of hurt penetrated his heart. He wished they had lived.

  “Olivia, have you found anything yet?” Dean put the pictures away and turned toward his girlfriend.

  “No, not too much of anything. Just a lot of photos of white people,” she replied.

  Dean laughed to himself and started working on another box. Inside he discovered an abundance of official documents and files. Dean’s birth certificate, his grandparents’ wedding license and a copy of his parents’ death decree were the only contents found within the box. As he skimmed through, he realized his grandpa kept his paperwork in order. Every piece of paper was neatly filed and labeled.

  “Dean, it’s cold up here.” Olivia wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed to get warm. “Would you like a cup of hot tea? Oh, Dean! I forgot to tell you. I found a bunch of linens stored away in a box over here. I’m going to leave it by the stairs, and before we leave I need for you to take them downstairs. I figure your grandpa could use them, and if not, I may be able to use them for myself.”

  Preoccupied with his hunt, Dean said okay. Once Olivia left, Dean threw the documents he held in his hand back in the box. Then he counted the number of boxes they still needed to comb through. There were at least thirty. “God, give me strength!”

  Ready to give up, he shoved the box in front of him away. He decided to save this project for another day. He figured they could pick Bryce up early and catch a bit to eat before the matinee. He stood up and maneuvered his way toward the exit. A short lapse in memory almost made him forget about the box Olivia wanted. He did a quick check to make sure the box he was looking in was what she wanted. When he did, he noticed something out of the ordinary about the way the sheets looked. “She did say there were bed linens in this box. Didn’t she?”

  Dean examined the sheets a little closer before finally holding one up before him. It looked like a Halloween costume. “What is he doing with this?” Dean looked at the backside before turning it around. Stitched over the left hand side of the breast pocket was an emblem. Dean closely studied the white cross set inside a bright red circle. The most interesting detail of the emblem was the red teardrop set in the center of the cross. For some reason his heart rate accelerated and his hands shook uncontrollably. He had never seen this symbol before, but for some reason it scared him.

  When Dean blinked his eyes three times what he was looking at became clear to him. In his hands he held a Ku Klux Klan robe. He threw it across the room and dug further down in the box. He found the matching hood. Dean rubbed his forehead. He was confused. Why is this stuff in my grandpa’s attic?

  He tore through the box, searching for an explanation. On the bottom of the box was a manila envelope. Hastily, he ripped it open. Horror surfaced on his face. He stared at a picture of his grandpa posing for the camera along with a bunch of Klansmen. As cool as the room was, Dean couldn’t help but sweat with perspiration. Ten men all dressed in white robes with white hoods covering their faces. Judge West and another man were the only two in the picture not in disguise. His grandfather stood right next to the grand wizard and held up a flag bearing the same symbol he found on the robe. “I don’t believe this.”

  “Sorry, it took me so long.” Olivia was on her way back up the stairs with their tea. “I added honey to yours, just the way you like it.”

  Dean hid the robes by throwing them back in the box and stuck the photo in his back pocket. He wasn’t ready to tell her what he found.

  “Livie, I don’t want to spend any more time here. Let’s go pick Bryce up from your sister and take him out to eat.”

  She looked at him strangely. “Okay, but I thought it was so important for you to find that deed.”

  “It was, but I can get it later.” He gestured for her to turn back down the steps.

  “What about the box with the linens in it?” she asked.

  “I’ll pick that stuff up later,” he replied.

  Chapter 6

  Three weeks later

  Val reminisced back to her first year in law school. She had one class where the professor would make the entire class act out a mock trial. Each time she played a lawyer she dreamed of the day she’d stand before a real judge in an actual courtroom. Unfortunately, today she was in a courtroom, but not as a lawyer.

  The bailiff screamed out Val’s name, shaking her from her thoughts. She half-heartedly got up from her seat and stood before the judge.

  Olivia sat in the courtroom worried about her cousin’s mental state. Val used to be vibrant and so full of life, but after Julian died, she seemed to have lost the will to live. The blue pinstriped blazer with matching skirt looked good on Val, but it wasn’t enough to make her look presentable. Her face looked naked and drab without any makeup. The dark circles under her eyes revealed her lack of sleep, and hair that never had a strand out of place was haphazardly piled atop her head.

  Olivia prayed that Val would bounce back to her old self, but after she heard about the fight with Caitlyn, it looked like things were getting worse. Then Caitlyn pressed battery charges against Val. Olivia felt helpless and wondered how much more Val could bear before losing all self-control.

  The judge pulled her eyeglasses away from her face and lay them down beside her. She recognized Val the moment she walked into the courtroom. Val was one of the law students she’d met with last year. Every year the university asked the judge to speak with a group of law students who were still undecided about what kind of law they wanted to specialize in. The judge remembered Val from that meeting, not because she was the only black woman, but because she was the most focused, detailed, and showed so much empathy for others. Val’s passion for law was rare, but refreshing. The judge was very interested in seeing how far Val’s ambition would take her.

  This morning the judge was disappointed to see that Val had gotten off track and lost sight of her goal. “Ms. Benson, you admit to the court that you are responsible for the bruises on Ms. Haas’s face.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” Val’s response was uncaring, cold and lacked remorse.

  “Are you sorry for what you did?” The judge wondered what would drive this girl with such a bright future to jeopardize it all.

  “No, Your Honor.”

  Olivia wished she had insisted that Val retain a lawyer. Only a fool would represent herself, and that was exactly what Val looked like.

  Across the courtro
om sat a slew of lawyers all hired to represent Caitlyn. “Your Honor,” one of Caitlyn’s lawyers spoke up, “this is not the first time Ms. Benson has attacked my client. They did have an altercation when she”—The uptight Jewish man cut his eyes in Val’s direction and turned his nose down—“lived in Seattle. We are asking that the court grant us a restraining order against Ms. Benson.”

  Olivia stood and yelled from her seat. “This is ridiculous.”

  The judge’s face turned to annoyance when she heard Olivia’s outburst. She picked up her gavel to slam it down, but before she could say anything, Olivia pressed on with her protest. “Your Honor, that girl”—She pointed toward Caitlyn—“did nothing but torment my cousin the entire time she lived in Seattle.”

  The judge questioned Caitlyn’s counsel with her eyes. “Is there any truth to this?”

  “Your Honor, we are not aware of our client ever being responsible for baiting Ms. Benson in any kind of way.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t.” The judge was stern and was losing all patience with both sides. She glared at Caitlyn then noted a few things on the file in front of her before turning to Caitlyn’s lawyer. “Is it safe to assume that your client will be returning back to Seattle shortly, since that is her current address?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. Ms. Haas has concluded her business here and will be returning to Seattle later this evening,” Caitlyn’s lawyer replied.

  “I’m not sure what the entire story is between the two of you, but I’m going to fine both of you court costs for wasting my time with something that could have been resolved outside of court. Ms. Haas, I feel like you’re not entirely innocent in this matter.”

  Caitlyn shifted uncomfortably under the judge’s watchful eye.

  “But, Ms. Benson, that doesn’t mean you can assault people any time you lose control of your temper. You could have done some permanent damage to her face. Your punishment will be two hundred hours of community service.”