by Dijorn Moss
Yeah, I’m sure that was a stupid move. Demetrius stood up and walks toward me. He is, without a doubt, one of the most imposing individuals I’ve met. He dwarfs me. I wouldn’t stand a chance in a fair fight. I give Demetrius a once-over. I’m looking for weak points, but I can’t find any. He just stares at me without a shirt on, and with Demetrius’s dark skin, the ink of his tattoos are barely recognizable considering.
“You think I brought you here to kill you? Is that why you brought a gun?” Demetrius looks surprised.
“I certainly don’t think you brought me here for prayer. So let’s get on to the reason why I’m here, because it’s getting past my bedtime.”
Demetrius gives me an evil smirk. Boy, I wish I could wipe that smirk off his face.
“Why would I want to kill a preacher?”
“My guess, he found out something about you that you didn’t want anybody to know,” I say.
Demetrius nods his head as he takes another puff on his cigar. I can’t even begin to draw the connection between Demetrius and Pastor Cole, but there must be a connection there somewhere.
“I didn’t kill that preacher. I don’t know how you do things in the States, but where I’m from, it’s disrespectful for a man to accuse another man of something in his own home.”
The smirk is gone. Now Mr. Hyde has stepped in. Now it’s time to dance.
“Threaten a man and those who he cares about are disrespectful in any country,” I say.
I need to show him that I’m not afraid . . . even though I am terrified. Demetrius can kill me just like he may have killed Pastor Cole. Only difference is while Pastor Cole’s murder caused a small ripple, my death won’t cause any ripple at all. Many would rejoice over my death, and only a few would mourn. I imagine Paul would, Spider, Victory, Adele, and Sammy, but that’s it. The road of a fixer is a lonely road, and it has to be if a fixer is worth his salt.
In a sudden twist, Demetrius starts to laugh. Neither one of us cracked a joke. One thing I can tell from Demetrius’s laugh is that he didn’t bring me here to kill me. He would’ve done it already. No, Demetrius brought me here to use me, but in what capacity I’m not sure.
“Why are you not with the rest of them?”
“The rest of them—you mean the ministers at the conference on the island next door?”
Demetrius gives me a head nod. Now I know that part of this meeting is about what’s going on at Green Cove.
“I didn’t come here for the conference. I’m on vacation. Plus, I don’t play well with others,” I say.
“Finally, something we both have in common,” Demetrius says.
In the future, I’m going to try to avoid having too many things in common with a drug lord.
“You spend your vacation poking your nose in other people’s affairs?” Demetrius asks.
My knee-jerk reaction is no, but if I take an objective view of the past few days, then even I would have to conclude that I have spent more time in other folks’ business than actually enjoying the sun.
“I did mention it’s my bedtime?” I ask.
“All right, then, I’ll get to the point. You’ve been utilizing my airport a lot since you’ve been here.”
“I thought the airport belongs to Randall Knott,” I say just to stir the pot.
“It’s my airport,” Demetrius’s voice reverberates throughout the room like thunder.
I knew that, but playing devil’s advocate allows me to better gauge from what angle Demetrius is coming from. It also allows me to see just how much animosity Demetrius has toward Knott. Is it enough to make him want to kill everyone and everything in his path?
“It’s my airport. I own the landing strip that you land on. Randall Knott is a thief. Any man associated with him is a thief as well. So what does that make you, Mr. Dungy?”
“I couldn’t care less about Randall Knott, and I really don’t care about the dead preacher so long as killing preachers doesn’t become a habit,” I say.
Demetrius lets out a monstrous laugh. It gives me the chills; his voice sounds like he has something demonic on the inside of him. Maybe it’s my mind, or maybe Demetrius is demon-possessed, which would explain a lot of things.
“Well, I may not be a God-fearing man, but I don’t kill preachers. Of course, there is always that exception. You may have to ask Knott.”
“Why would I ask him?”
“Because there wasn’t any dead preachers until he got involved. They’ve had their conferences for years, no problems. Then all of sudden, this year, there’s bloodshed.”
I hate to admit this, but part of me believes him. He doesn’t have a reason to lie to me. He could bury me somewhere on this island where no one will be able to find me and not lose an ounce of sleep. Demetrius confessing to me that he didn’t kill Cole means that there is something he needs from me.
“I’ll make sure to ask Knott, but what’s the point of me being here?”
“Two things. One, the girl you visited yesterday, don’t ever go to her house again.”
“Why is that?” I ask.
“I’m a friend that doesn’t want her to be bothered.”
That means Elisha has a connection with Demetrius, which means that Demetrius didn’t kill her father. I’m back at square one with no real leads. Tomorrow, I’m going to have to go back to Elisha’s place and deliver the check from Pastor Bryant to her.
“What’s the second thing?”
“The second thing is since you’re a minister and Knott can’t tell the difference between one preacher and another, I want you to find out what he’s planning, and then report back to me.”
“So I work for you now?”
“God, no. Work would imply that I’m going to pay you. No, this is a favor.”
“A favor? A favor will imply that you will owe me one, then,” I say.
Demetrius puts his cigar out in a nearby ashtray. He still has plenty of cigar left. Either he’s wasteful or he put out the cigar to illustrate a point.
“You find out what I need to know and I won’t stop by Adele’s house for some of her coconut cake. Which, I hear, is quite good.”
I will never forgive myself for getting Adele involved in my mess. I have a home, and I can get up and go back at a moment’s notice. Adele, on the other hand, has to stay on the island with this monster.
There are not too many ways I can play this, and I can’t negotiate from a position of weakness. I have to convince Demetrius that I have the upper hand, when, in actuality, I don’t.
“I don’t think you would want to show up at Adele’s house uninvited, and you don’t have to make threats to convince me to help you. Threats are usually made by someone who doesn’t have power.”
Demetrius takes a step closer. He is now in striking distance, but I doubt there is anything I could do that would even stun a behemoth like him. Physically, I’m powerless.
“You’d be even more of a fool if you think that I don’t have power.”
“You don’t, because if you did, you would know what Randall Knott has planned, but you don’t,” I say.
“You’re just a big-time gangster on a small island. You’re no match for someone like Randall Knott who can crush you without leaving his breakfast table. You don’t want me to spy on Knott for you; you need me too.”
After my last comment, I took a deep breath and braced for Demetrius to plummet me. He balled up his fist and even looked like he was going to do it, but he didn’t. Instead, he swallowed his anger and let his smile take over.
“I like you, Nic. You got guts, I’ll give you that. You’re right, I do need you, but I don’t need Adele or that old man or that sweet girl that you’ve been walking around with. So what’s it going to be?”
I love how he frames that question . . . as if I have a choice in the matter. I don’t. Tomorrow I would have to go knocking on Randall Knott’s door to see what I can find out about Pastor Cole’s death. As far as Demetrius’s first request goes, after I deliver th
e money to Elisha, we can go our separate ways.
“I’ll look into it,” I say.
“As they say, pleasure doing business with you.” Demetrius extends his arm to the front door.
“You really should watch soccer,” he says just before I reach the door. I turn to look at him. “It’s a game of strategy and endurance.”
Strategy and endurance. Those are the two things I’ll need if I’m going to survive this ordeal.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I then head out the door.
“Don’t forget this.” Demetrius summons one of his henchmen to bring me my gun.
He takes the gun and examines it with a smile before handing it over to me. “Here, the gun is a little too girly for my taste.”
Demetrius lets out a big laugh, and the other men join in on the laugh. Well, at least I got Adele’s gun back, and I didn’t have to use it.
My driver walks beside me and escorts me back to the car. A deal has just been concluded, but I wonder which devil I made it with.
Chapter Nine
For the first time since we met, I’m trying to avoid Victory. I can’t handle her disappointment in me. I can’t bear entering the room and seeing this woman who I care about being so disgusted to even look at me. What is even more frustrating is that I’m being played by two men. I have allowed myself to be played, which is even more frustrating. Two men are using me as a pawn—Pastor Bryant and Demetrius—to do their bidding, and then there is Knott. I haven’t met him, but I’m certain that he will want to employ my services as soon as we meet. Provided that I get close enough to Mr. Fortune 500 to even have a conversation with him.
I wouldn’t blame Victory for wanting to pack up her things and leave. I’m sure this is not the trip she had in mind. That’s the reason why I don’t let anyone get close. That’s the reason why I’m alone. I can’t tear myself away from the problem-solving business, and I’m afraid of the man I would be without it. I thought Victory would be different. I mean, I thought that I would be a different person with her. We have a connection, and there’s no denying it, but it seems like as strong as the connection we have, the pull to my dark calling is stronger. Lord knows where I will end up when this song plays out. Maybe it will end with me being in the lake of fire.
I finally found enough intestinal fortitude to get up and head downstairs. As I get closer to the kitchen I can smell the biscuits being made. Adele makes her biscuits from scratch. I arrive at the kitchen where, at the end of Adele’s long white table, sits Victory. She’s cutting up a mango.
“I’ll be ready for you in a minute, sugar,” Adele says to Victory.
“Okay,” Victory says before she turns to me and flashes me a smile.
The smile is neither pleasant nor condemning; it just conveys that she’s content. That means she still hasn’t given up on me, and it’s up to me to turn things around.
“Did you sleep okay?” Victory asks me, but she doesn’t make eye contact.
“Yeah, I slept fine.”
In truth, I didn’t sleep. I can’t sleep. The lives of those who I care about are at stake, and I have millions of reason why I need to find out who killed Pastor Cole. Sleep doesn’t come to a man that has a million questions weighing on his head.
“Nic, could you set the table?” Adele asks.
“Sure.”
I take the plates and the silverware from her and walk outside onto her deck and start to set the table.
Victory comes outside. She still avoids eye contact. She starts to place fruit and biscuits in the center of the table.
“About last night,” I say, but Victory stops me with her hand.
“Last night was last night. Let’s just have breakfast and go on with our day.”
My mission is taking its toll on the serene personality of Victory. That is the last thing I want, but I had to go last night to ensure her safety.
Of course, I can always return Pastor Bryant’s money and spend the rest of my time here with Victory.
We ate a nice breakfast and made small talk. After breakfast, Victory and I decide to help Adele by doing the dishes together.
“I want to take you somewhere,” I say.
“Really? You sure you want me to tag along?”
I feel the sting of that dig. I deserve it, and in all honesty, I deserve way worse than what Victory is giving me.
“Yes, you and only you, but it’s a little bit of a hike.”
Victory flashes a smile, and it’s a pleasant one. “You’re tired of getting whooped in swimming, I see.”
I throw my hands up in mock surrender. “You got me there. I am tired.”
“Okay. I’ll go easy on you and give you a break from the butt-whooping,” she says.
Behind Adele’s home is not only a road, but on the other side of the road there is a narrow trail. A trail the tropical trees overlap and provide shade for, but there is still enough space where the sun can break through. Victory and I walk side by side along this narrow trail. The path is so narrow that sometimes I would walk in front of Victory.
“Has Adele taken you along this trail?”
“No, Sammy told me about this trail, and I decided to walk it one day. I thought about you when I arrived at this one spot.”
“Really?”
“Really,” I say.
“Well, that makes a girl feel special.”
I look back, and there is Victory’s smile again. Her smile is a gift to me, and I would give anything for that smile to remain permanently on her face, maybe even a million dollars. She takes out her cell phone and starts to snap pictures. Then she catches me looking at her with one raised eyebrow.
“What? This is proof that I was here.”
“You haven’t seen nothing yet. You may want to save those pictures for later.”
We keep on walking until the road widens and we’re able to walk side by side. Victory takes my hand and walks with me. She seems to have forgiven me for my transgressions, which is amazing in itself. I don’t know any women who can handle being invited to paradise by a man, and that man being gone half the time. Of course, Victory is unlike any woman I’ve ever met.
I came to a sudden stop and motioned for Victory to stop as well.
“What is it?” she asks.
I don’t respond to her verbally, I just signal for her to listen with her ears.
I point up, and at the very top of the tropical tree, we can hear the sound of birds as they race from one tree to the next. It’s a beautiful sound, one that I can’t put into words; I can only show it to Victory. We are only halfway to our destination, but when Mother Nature is putting on such a wonderful display, we can’t help but to sit and listen. Victory lets out a playful laugh.
“I love Sac, but this is breathtaking.”
Victory takes another picture on her cell phone.
“You still haven’t seen nothing yet.” I extend my hand, and Victory takes it, and we continue our journey.
“You keep saying that. I hope I’m not being built up for a disappointment,” she says.
“No, you’re not. Believe me, it will be worth it.”
We continue walking, and the road narrows, and Victory starts to walk behind me once again.
“Where did you go last night?”
It’s naïve for me to think that a long walk in paradise would avoid Victory’s obvious question.
“I had a meeting with someone that I couldn’t miss.”
“At ten o’clock at night? What kind of meeting?”
“I can’t really get into it.”
“There are a lot of things that you don’t talk about and I wonder why.”
I don’t want to lie to Victory, but can she really handle me telling her that I spent last night with a drug lord who threatened me and those close to me?
“You know, it took an act of faith for me to get on the plane and come here. I wish you would show me the same kind of faith.”
“What do you want to know?”
&
nbsp; “I want to know you, but it seems like your work in the ministry overshadows you as a person.”
“Oftentimes, I can’t tell the difference.”
“No, there’s more to you, Minister Dungy, than the ministry. There’s more to you. Your title doesn’t make you; it only illuminates the man that you are.”
Maybe there is, but it’s buried deep down, and I lack the strength to excavate my true nature. Even now, surrounded by this beauty and with this beautiful woman, I can’t pull myself away from the mystery surrounding Pastor Cole’s death. Yesterday, I was certain that Demetrius was the killer, but now it looks like it may be Randall Knott, and that’s a much-tougher man to get to than Demetrius.
“And whenever I ask you a personal question, you seem to space out on me like you’re doing just now.”
“I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”
“Be present.”
“I’m trying.”
“You’re thinking being in the moment is not about thinking. If you’re trying to be in the moment, then you’ll never get there. Being in the moment means you don’t think about anything else; you just experience what’s in the here and now.”
That’s a dangerous way to live . . . in the moment. I’m afraid of who I am if I just let go and live in the moment. I’m afraid of what my urges would do if I gave them free reign. No, for a minister, even one that is not so straitlaced, the moment can be very threatening.
We arrive at the spot that I want to show Victory. There is a little river that has a small waterfall next to it. I have seen beauty since coming to this island, but this place that is deep in the tropical forest provides me with serenity.
“This is it? This is the place you’ve been trying to show me?” Victory asks.
I detect a hint of disappointment in her voice.
“Yeah, this is it,” I say as I relieve myself of the picnic basket I had over my shoulder. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“No, I’m just curious as to how you found out about this place? It’s not exactly a hop, skip, and a jump away.”
“No, it’s not. I discovered this trail about the second day here. I started walking on this trail, and I kept walking until I arrived here.”
