No Sin in Paradise

by Dijorn Moss

  “Always a lady, Laura,” Demetrius says.

  I look down at her stand and see a crucifix necklace made out of beads. No fancy jewels went into this design, but anyone who knows anything about jewelry would marvel at the skill in making this necklace. I hold up the necklace for Laura to see.

  “How much for the necklace?” I ask.

  “Five,” she says.

  I reach into my pocket to pull out my wallet. The dollar is widely accepted in the Bahamas.

  “Don’t worry about that, friend, it’s on the house,” Demetrius states.

  Laura looks like she wants to scratch his eyes out as he hands me the necklace. Demetrius starts walking, and when he’s not looking, I drop a twenty-dollar bill on Laura’s table to pay for the necklace and the trouble.

  Demetrius makes several similar stops along the way. Some of the people he collects from didn’t even bother to put the money in an envelope. They just hand it to Demetrius, and he keeps moving along to the next vendor. The last stop is also a fruit stand, but the owner gives Demetrius not only an envelope, but a fruit basket. Demetrius slips two of the envelopes he collected into the bottom of the basket and keeps walking.

  At the end of the market is a patrol car with two local police officers standing by it, resting on their heels. Demetrius does not break stride as he approaches them and hands them the basket. All out in the open and now it becomes clear why Demetrius wants me here . . . to instill the point that no money is earned or spent without his approval.

  The two cops size me up. They are taking mental notes of me. They don’t like me, and the feeling is mutual. I hate crooked cops. I know hate is a strong word and a word that contradicts the Christian doctrine, but I don’t know what other word to use.

  “This is my friend Nicodemus Dungy. I’m showing him around.” Demetrius gives me a pat on the back like we are longtime friends.

  That is also Demetrius letting me know that he found out my name along with everything else he could know about me from another source.

  “Let’s go, friend, I have so much to show you.” Demetrius gives me a second pat on the back as he starts to head back toward the marketplace.

  I know one thing for sure: if I come up missing, I can guarantee that these two gentlemen of the law will not go looking for me.

  We walk back through the marketplace. It takes us less time to get back to the car since we didn’t have to make any stops. I climb back in just as perplexed as I was when I first left the car.

  “What’s this all about?” I ask.

  “I’ve got a business proposition for you, but first, I would like for you to see how I do business.”

  “Shaking down honest businesspeople . . . I think I have a clear idea of how you do business,” I say.

  “You are one biggety fellow, Mr. Dungy.”

  Biggety means bold, which, at times, I have been really bold. But I’m not bold enough to shake down a marketplace and bribe two police officers in broad daylight. I’m not even bold enough to not get in the car with Demetrius.

  “Say what you will, but I don’t like the way you do business,” I tell him.

  “Come then, let’s see if you will like the way I do business after my next stop.”

  Demetrius turns on the engine and starts to drive. We drive down the road. I don’t think it has even been ten minutes before he pulls into a parking space along the side of the island. This is the part of the island where the residents are more likely to have a boat instead of a car.

  It’s an area reserved for people who love waking up to the smell of saltwater and are not threatened by the hurricane season. The location is near the rocks, and a person can push their boat off into the ocean and float along the way. That whole process would take no more than five minutes at the most.

  Demetrius gets out of the car, and I follow him up a walkway toward a house that sits on top of the hill. Walking up the hill I wonder if this was going to be the place where Demetrius kills me. I have no bargaining chip that would ensure my survival. I can’t even guarantee the safety of Victory.

  Which leaves me to wonder if I am better off trying to survive this attack than just being the noble knight who falls on his sword. Chivalry is about as dead as I will be if I don’t think of a better plan.

  Demetrius knocks on the door so hard it can be heard at the bottom of the hill. Moments later, the door opens, and it’s a little boy.

  “Hi, Uncle Demetrius,” the boy says, not with joy, but with terror.

  “Is your father home?” Demetrius asks.

  The boy nods his head and opens the door to reveal two of his siblings. Both are boys and there’s not much of an age difference between them. I’m confused and terrified for what’s about to unfold.

  “Who’s at the door?” a man says from upstairs.

  “Uncle Demetrius,” the boy says.

  Footsteps soon follow, and a man emerges from the top of the staircase. His steps down slow as the sight of Demetrius and I come into view. Demetrius’s grin is borderline demonic.

  “Hello, friend,” Demetrius says.

  It’s safe to say that the gentleman before me is not Demetrius’s brother, but his business dealings are frequent enough where the kids have come to view him as a relative.

  “Hello, Demetrius.”

  “David, this is my good friend, Nic. I’m showing him around the island.”

  David doesn’t take his eyes off Demetrius. Judging from his eyes, fear starts to take more of a stronghold with each word Demetrius says to him.

  “I’m sorry. I was going to bring it to you.”

  Demetrius waves off the man’s explanation, and instead, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his Beretta and smacks David with the butt of the gun.

  David falls flat on his wallet and tries to scoot away from Demetrius. He reaches into his front pocket and holds the money up toward Demetrius.

  “The fact that I have to come here is disrespect enough.” Demetrius reaches down and snatches the money.

  Demetrius is about to reach back and smack the guy again when I intervene by stepping in between him and David. I put my hands up to prevent Demetrius from advancing.

  “Come on, man, not in front of the children,” I say.

  Demetrius looks at me before he tosses me off to the side with such velocity that I fall to the floor.

  “Don’t ever touch me.” Demetrius takes a look at the young boys who are terrified at the scene that has just unfolded. “Not to worry. I’m not going to kill him because then, who would look after my nephews?”

  The boys seem too terrified to respond. Demetrius just puts the money in his pocket and walks out the door. I gather myself up off the floor and help David off the floor as well.

  “I’m sorry about that,” I say to David.

  I don’t know why I have a habit of apologizing for another person’s actions, but I do. I look at the boys, and they are in tears. I look back at David, and he is on the verge of tears. Young boys who are fortunate to have their fathers in their lives often look up to their fathers as titans. It’s heartbreaking to see a titan toppled like these boys have just seen.

  “I’m sorry,” I say to the boys before I walk out the door.

  Once outside, I see Demetrius is at his truck having a cigar. He’s not even the least bit disturbed by his actions. I guess that’s how monsters operate.

  “Hey, I’m not about to ride around with you and watch you terrorize people,” I say.

  “I needed to make a few stops before I show you what I want you to see.”

  Demetrius tosses his cigar on the ground and stumps on it with his foot before he gets into the truck. It would be too much to walk back to Adele’s from here, so I head to Demetrius’s truck and climb inside.

  From the house we drive along the one main road on the island. There are two peaks on the island and on the far right peak, Demetrius’s house sits, but on the opposite end of the island there is flat land with a breathtaking view of the
island. Demetrius parks the car, and I get out. He walks to an edge with his hands in his pocket, looking out into the ocean like a man on top of the world. I stand next to him with my hands also in my pockets taking in the view.

  “My grandfather was a great businessman. He ran a landscaping business in Miami and a fishing business out here. He bought up land real cheap. When he died, he owned a fair portion of the island. My father built upon what my grandfather did and expanded. My father bought more land, including a nice hidden spot on the island that made it look like our own little paradise. I followed in his footsteps. I built houses on land we owned, and I rent them out to folks. I expanded our business in the world of imports and exports.”

  Demetrius smiles at his accomplishments. “You know, there wasn’t even an airport at Crystal Cove until about fifteen years ago. For that whole time, I would have planes land and take off. No one would bother me. That was, until Randall Knott showed up.”

  I wonder how this inspiring story of a man who starts from nothing and accomplishes everything gets twisted and turns into a drug kingpin. It goes back to man’s unquenched thirst for more. Demetrius taps me on the shoulder to follow him. We walk back to the truck and Demetrius pulls out a map and spreads it across the hood of his truck. He uses both hands to hold the map down to keep it from flying away due to the wind.

  “Randall Knott is trying to take land that I own. He’s trying to steal from me, and your buddy was sent here to do his bidding.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Why would Pastor Cole do anything on Knott’s behalf?” I ask.

  “Are you calling me a liar?” Demetrius questions.

  I didn’t respond to him, but I did notice the spot Demetrius had circled. “You think this is the land that Knott wants to purchase?”

  “That is the land he’s trying to steal.”

  I walk away from Demetrius back to the edge. This time, instead of looking out at the ocean, I look down at the bottom of the cliff and see a shack. A shack that I’m very familiar with. It is a shack owned by Janae the witch doctor.

  “My father built her that house so that she could have a slice of heaven,” Demetrius says.

  I think he knows that I now have connected the dots and that this land Demetrius is fighting for, and possibly killing for, is the land where his mother lives. I turn back around and walk toward him.

  “So why not fight it out in court?” I ask.

  “If we involve the courts, then they start prying into all of my affairs. I can’t allow that to happen.”

  Demetrius is in quite a conundrum. Someone is committing a crime against him, but Demetrius has committed crimes himself. He can’t afford for his misdeeds to come to light.

  “So what do you need me to do?”

  “I don’t need you to do anything. I want you to find out what Knott is planning to build on that land. Now Adele and that pretty gal of yours, they need you.”

  “I don’t care who you are. You can’t threaten me, and you won’t harm either one of them.”

  Demetrius laughs while I ball my fists up ready to strike. I’m sick and tired of his threats, and I refuse to tolerate them any longer.

  “Then we have an understanding. You find out what I need to know, and I stay away from your loved ones.”

  Demetrius gives me a pat on the back and walks back to the car. I get in because in my heart of hearts, I know that the only way I can protect Adele, Sammy, and Victory is if I find out what Knott is up to and try to stop him.

  On the way back there wasn’t much of a conversation between the two of us. We just rode along a bumpy road until something pierces the window. I figure it was a shot, and from a distance there was an image of a person I couldn’t make out standing on the road.

  “What the . . .” I say.

  Demetrius bends down and pulls a gun from under his seat. Another shot pierces the window and hits Demetrius in the arm. He loses control of the truck and starts to swerve. The truck flies off the road, and all I see is a lagoon that the SUV is headed toward.

  Chapter Fifteen

  This warm water I’ve come to love may be what takes me down. The water is rising, and we are sinking. I’m barely conscious, and Demetrius is unconscious. The water is above my shoulders, and I have to move and the passenger window is open, but I can’t leave Demetrius. Right now, he’s 300 pounds of dead weight.

  “Lord Jesus, please help me, Lord.”

  I start to kick the windshield. Once it’s out, the water will come rushing in, but that’s the only chance I have to get Demetrius out of the car, and at this point, it could be for nothing. For all I know, he could be dead.

  When the windshield is kicked out and the water is rushing in, I grab ahold of Demetrius and struggle to pull him out of the car. I’ve got to calm down and slow my heart rate. I can’t panic—don’t panic! I need to get air soon, but I have to get Demetrius out. I pull him out. I’m pulling and pulling, and I’m not making much progress. This can’t be how this ends. Lord, please help me!

  I reach around and secure Demetrius by his belt. Don’t panic, Nic, you’re going to make it. I push as hard as I can with my legs and finally we start to ascend. We break through the water, and I get one gulp of air until I sink back down.

  I don’t think I have anymore to give, but if God gives me the strength to get above water once, He’ll do it twice. I push as hard as I can, and we get above water again. I get another gulp of air and start swimming to shore. With every stroke of my free hand, I feel like I’m either going to sink or lose Demetrius.

  I close my eyes because I don’t want to lose hope. I don’t want to think about how far I have to swim with Demetrius or how tired I am or how I might not survive this whole ordeal. I finally touch land and with the last bit of all my strength, I pull myself and Demetrius onto shore.

  I roll over on my back, still trying to catch air and steady my breathing. My arms are on fire and my legs are burning from exhaustion, but I am elated. It takes so much for me to turn over and observed Demetrius, who is lifeless.

  I start trying to do CPR, and when that doesn’t work, and though I hesitate for a moment, I even start to do mouth-to-mouth. It took a long moment, but Demetrius suddenly spits up water and starts to cough. Thank you, Jesus! Demetrius is alive. I am alive. Thank you, Jesus. Now, the question is . . . Who shot at us?

  God has a way of humbling some and mystifying others. Here I am in an unknown part of the island with a man who has threatened me on more than one occasion and has threatened those who I care about. Yet, I save his life, while my life is still in danger. And now there’s an assassin on the loose. I sit with the mosquitos biting my skin and the sun blazing down. Demetrius sits beside me, lost and confused. Lord have mercy.

  “We need to keep moving,” I say right after I finish tying a piece of my shirt around Demetrius’s arm to stop the bleeding. We need to leave, but I barely have the strength to go on, let alone carry an enormous man like Demetrius around.

  “Yeah, we should,” Demetrius says before he gets up and starts to walk.

  “You know where you’re going?” I ask.

  “I know every inch of this island. My uncle used to take me fishing in that very same lagoon. I didn’t think I would almost die in it.”

  Neither did I. We walk through the jungle, and it hasn’t escaped my attention that the truck ending up in the lagoon is not the result of careless driving but rather someone trying to kill us.

  “Who do you think did this?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” Demetrius says.

  “Guess,” I say.

  “There can be only one man stupid enough to do this. Stupid enough to think he’s protected.”

  I know who Demetrius thinks it is, but just because all roads point to Randall Knott doesn’t mean that Randall Knott is the shooter. The world operates in a gray area more often than black and white.

  “I saw someone on the road. I couldn’t make them out, but they had to be following us,” I say.<
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  “There was no one following us,” Demetrius says.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because no one is stupid enough to follow me. It’s suicide.”

  Apparently we have one stupid assassin running about, and Demetrius doesn’t have a clue as to the assassin’s true identity.

  “You know, pride goes before a fall,” I say.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Don’t let your ego be your downfall. I still think the assassin is out there.”

  “No, there was no assassin out there looking for us.” Demetrius checks his arm.

  “No? You sound so sure.”

  “Had he been a professional, he would’ve fired a few more shots into the car and made sure that we didn’t surface to the lagoon.”

  “Maybe he was in a rush.”

  “There’s no one around for miles and miles. He had time. No, he thought that a few shots and the truck going into the water was enough. He was sadly mistaken.”

  “By the grace of God we survived this crash,” I say.

  “God doesn’t have nothing to do with it. We got lucky.”

  The man survives being shot and his truck going over a cliff and yet he doesn’t believe he has been spared for a reason. I know who spared me, and I know who gave me the strength to drag a man twice my size to the shore.

  “We need to get going. It’ll be dark soon,” Demetrius says.

  “Lead the way.”

  We walk for hours, but the jungle is so thick and massive that we hardly put a dent into it. The sun fades into distant memory and soon the night approaches. I continued to follow Demetrius as he leads through the jungle, stepping through plants, fighting off bugs and God knows what.

  “It’s getting dark. We’ll need to stop for the night,” Demetrius says.

  “We got to keep going.” I can barely talk.

  “We will not make it back tonight. We have to rest and start again at first light. We’ll make it back by tomorrow.”