When It All Falls Down

by Dijorn Moss

  “Man, I’m just ready for this to be all over.”

  “I know and I just want you to keep in mind that this guy Brian Perkins is a scum bag and he will say anything to get you to react. Don’t bite no matter what.”

  Tony does not respond and when I look back at Pastor Robinson she has her head down, engaged in a prayer. The life that Pastor Robinson tried to forget is staring her in the face and she needs to be ready to confront it.

  I get off the freeway and work my way up the surface streets toward Brian Perkins’s office. As we get closer, my stomach ties in knots. I am nervous and that is not a good sign.

  When I pull into the parking lot of Brian’s office, it takes me a moment to regain composure and turn off the ignition.

  “Let’s have a word of prayer,” I say to the Robinsons. We pray and then exit the car. I start to walk toward the building and I think about how the last time I was here I was being dragged out, beat up. The fact that I’m returning to right a serious wrong gives me poise and makes me stand up tall.

  I enter the building and the Robinsons follow me. I make no eye contact with the security guard because as far as I am concerned, the man is a coward. We get on the elevator and I vow that this will be the last time I ever get on this elevator again.

  Just like last time, when I get off the elevator I can hear music from down the hall. I lead the Robinsons out of the elevator and to Brian Perkins’s office, where a man opens the door and blows out a puff of smoke.

  “We’re here to see Brian.”

  “Let them in, fam,” Brian says from behind his goon.

  The goon steps aside and there is Brian sitting in his chair with his feet on his desk watching another movie starring Pastor Robinson.

  “What up? Just watching my girl do her thing.” Brian looks at Pastor Robinson, who is horrified. “Dang, ma, you done gotten chunky there. Still sexy though.”

  “I don’t need your approval. I am beautiful and God has been good to me,” Pastor Robinson says.

  “Please; can’t no God and no man treat you like I treat you.” Brian takes a puff of his cigar.

  I can feel the heat rise up on Tony. I put my hand on him to settle him down.

  “I see you brought your man; yeah, I’m sure he ain’t hitting that right.”

  “I ought to break your neck!” Tony says.

  “Are preachers supposed to talk like that? Huh? What’s a matter with you? You don’t come up in a man’s establishment and disrespect,” Brian says.

  “Be cool, Tony,” I say.

  “You better listen to your boy because he found out the hard way what happens when you disrespect me.”

  The anger inside me has reached a boiling point and I desperately need this plan to work.

  “Stop it, okay, Brian? Just stop please!” Pastor Robinson fights back the tears. “I know I hurt you, but I had to get my life together. I could no longer destroy myself. Please forgive me.”

  Brian has a smirk on his face and I never wanted to smack a man so much in my life.

  “Oh I forgive you, ma, but I won’t forget. I won’t forget all the money you cost me and how you played me. I gave you my heart and you walked away from it. But”—Brian pauses his movie—“we’ll always have memories.”

  The men chuckle and I use that as a point to unplug the TV. The goons jump up and I don’t back down. One of the goons steps up, but I don’t back down and I feel Tony stand beside me, ready to fight. Hopefully it won’t come to that because we are outnumbered, until I hear the sound of Harleys nearby.

  “You don’t learn do you, Preacher?’

  “Apparently I do. You might want to check outside.”

  Brian gets up and looks outside and his whole demeanor changes. “Who are they?”

  I walk over, and lined up in a row outside of Brian’s office are bikers with Spider standing in the middle. I give Spider a head nod and he walks toward the entrance.

  “They are your problem if we’re not out of this building unharmed in ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes?” Brian asks.

  “Well, eight now that we are here, but I only need two minutes.” I reach into my jacket and pull out an envelope and hand it to Brian.

  “What’s this?” Brian asks.

  “This is the reason why you’re going to hand over every piece of material you have of Pastor Robinson and shut down your Web site.”

  Brian reviews the material and tries to hand it back to me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Seriously, you’ve raped that many women that you can’t recognize them? Regina has come forth and she plans to testify and I hope you like prison because that’s where you’re next movie is going to be filmed from, but I don’t think you like your costars.”

  “Okay, so I drop the footage and this all goes away. Okay, I can do that.” Brian’s swagger has disappeared.

  “You misunderstand me; you’re going to drop the footage and then you’re going to jail. I’ve already given this information to a detective who is on his way to arrest you for rape.”

  There is a knock on the door and Tony opens it. Spider enters the room in his bounty hunter suit complete with an array of weapons. He stands there imposing his will on the rest of the room. Brian crumples up the paper and tries to swing on me. I block his punch with my forearm and feel a sharp pain.

  Tony Robinson leaps over the desk and punches Brian while Spider draws his weapon on the other goons. Brian is knocked out and I know that that feels good for Tony to knock Brian out.

  “Dude, you’re going to have to learn how to fight,” Spider says.

  “I guess you’re right,” I reply

  I look at Pastor Robinson and she starts to laugh and then she starts to cry. It’s an impressive display of emotions because the tears come from the pain of the past and the laughter of deliverance. “Thank you Jesus, thank you, you keep your promises!”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  I don’t want to go back home. I am not sure if the apartment I have in Carson qualifies as a home. I feel more at peace and at home in Victory’s Lexus than I feel anywhere besides church. Right now I wish that we could just keep on driving past the airport. Maybe we could go to Reno or maybe I could take her with me to Southern California. It is a fantasy and I know that, but every now and again I like to dream.

  “You need a vacation.” Victory adjusts the glasses on her head.

  “When I was a kid, my father took me to Crooked Island Bahamas to meet my grandfather. I was only five and I vaguely remember the place, but I always wanted to go back there.”

  “So go. You need money for a plane ticket?”

  I chuckle to myself because Victory has no idea that I am $150,000 richer. “No, I don’t need any money, but I may need a companion.”

  “I may be able to swing that,” Victory replies.

  Being in the car with Victory reminds me that I can never have both a life and the job. The job requires me to be a different person and despite my best efforts, I can’t turn my personality on and off like a switch. I can’t help a pastor cover up an affair and then go home to sweet Victory and play happy home. I have to choose and at this point I have spent too much time in the muck to clean up for Victory.

  “I’m thinking about heading down to Southern California. Maybe you could show me around. Take me to Hollywood, Disneyland, and Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles.”

  “Hollywood is overrated with a bunch of panhandlers. Disneyland is overpriced and only the Roscoe’s off of Pico is good.”

  Victory laughs and I am somewhat irritated because even my best attempt to be a jerk comes off as charm with her. Victory pulls into departures and I do not want to get out of the car, but I have to go. I unbuckle my seat belt and get out the car. I open the door of the back seat and get out my computer bag and duffle bag. I’m sort of glad that my rental car was totaled, because I wouldn’t have had a chance to ride with Victory.

  “Thank you for everything,” I say from
outside of the car.

  “See you soon,” Victory says.

  I don’t know how to interpret Victory’s statement, but the thought that this is not my last time seeing her makes me smile. I tap the car and head toward the door. I don’t know if I will see Victory again, and maybe it’s for the best. It’s better to leave things perfect than to allow time and opportunity to reveal our flaws. I want to remember Victory as perfect even at the cost of not seeing her ever again.

  I sit in my seat and I wait for the plane to depart. I am at a window seat and that’s not like me. I am in the mood for some change and once I get home I plan to go on a vacation. I am officially out of the problem-solving business. I don’t know what I am going to do with my life; all I know is that the problems of the church will have to be resolved by God. I plan to go somewhere and get back in touch with God.

  “Excuse me, doc,” a tall figure says.

  I adjust my seat to make room for the passenger who will occupy the seat next to me.

  “Thank you, bro. God bless!” I now get a good look at this individual and am surprised to see him on this flight.

  “We might as well get acquainted since we’re going to be on this plane together. My name is Titus Dawkins.”

  “I know who you are, Pastor Dawkins. You’re the senior pastor of Greater Anointing.”

  “Have we met?” Pastor Dawkins asks.

  No, we haven’t, and you need to be thankful for that! Pastor Dawkins is an anointed minister, but there are rumblings that Pastor is a bit of a womanizer. Despite the fact that Pastor Dawkins fits the description of a womanizer with his good looks and thorough knowledge of the Word, the claims are baseless.

  “My name is Nic Dungy and I’m a minister of the Gospel as well.”

  “So what church do you serve in?” Pastor Dawkins asks me.

  “I go where I’m needed, Pastor. I don’t serve in a particular church.”

  Pastor Dawkins lets out a groan and scratches his goatee. I know that Pastor disapproves of my answer, but I have no tolerance for being fake.

  “So let me ask you this, Minister Dungy, who pours into you?”

  “God pours into me,” I say.

  “I agree, but there should also be a fellow brother or sister in Christ who pours into you as well. Something tells me that you spend a lot of time traveling and helping other people and rarely do you consider yourself. A selfless man like you needs to have that love and devotion reciprocated.”

  I start to feel a little uncomfortable. Part of my success comes from no attachments. I am like De Niro in Heat. I don’t allow any attachments that I can’t walk away from at a moments’ notice.

  “Pastor, you and I are both in the recovery business. It takes a lot to help someone come out of darkness. It takes a lot to get people to see themselves the way that God sees them. I made a decision a long time ago that I was capable of reaching in and getting my hands dirty, but I was unwilling to burden someone with my filthiness in the process.”

  Pastor Dawkins does not respond to my question; instead he chuckles to himself. I am not known for my sense of humor.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing, it’s just that you are like me two years ago.”

  “Let me guess; you had a life-transforming experience.”

  “I did.” Pastor Dawkins nods. “I found love and love always reminds you of your purpose and love always empowers you to continue you on that path.”

  Love: a word I often scoff at because it is a word said by too many selfish people. God is love and His work is selfless.

  “If you’re ever in the Long Beach area, you should come to Greater Anointing. We have a strong men ministry and every year we have an awesome men’s retreat.”

  “We’ll see,” I say, but in truth I don’t know if I would ever go to a men’s retreat unless I had to.

  Epilogue

  Being from California, I’m used to the smell of sea water. Maybe it is a change of scenery or maybe it is the fact that for the first time in a long time I am not paying attention to the negative. I just allow the warm water to wash my feet and marvel at the fact that I can see my feet in the water. In front of me is open space. I find a secluded part of the island that is not tainted by Parasailors or jet skis. It is as peaceful as when God first created the island.

  I have been in the Bahamas for a week now and I am not in a rush to get back to the States. Life is simpler out here and no one is in a rush. This is a perfect place for me to get back in touch with God. I need God to carry me through the transition. I haven’t had a drink or a cigarette since Sacramento. I am in a good head space and I spend most of my days praising God with a clean heart.

  I sent Victory an open plane ticket to come out. I don’t know if she is going to come, but every day I watch the charter planes come in and drop off tourists and every day I feel a little disappointment that Victory has not shown up. I remind myself that it is better to remember her as a woman than anything else.

  I take a sip of my drink and feel like a king. My drink is a mixture of passion fruit. And no alcohol. The sun rests easily on my shoulders, which is what one can expect during the first week of December.

  I look off to my left and a short woman with a straw hat walks toward me. There is a bit of a wind so the woman has her hand over her head to keep her hat from flying off. As she gets closer I realize that it is Adele, the woman whose house I am renting while I stay out here on the island. I am not fooled by her miniature stature. Adele is one tough bird.

  “You’re going to stay out here all day?” Adele says with her thick island accent.

  “Why not? I don’t have days like this in L.A.,” I say.

  “I made lunch. Come get you something to eat.”

  I make it a point not to repeat myself and I also make sure that Adele does not have to repeat herself either. I start walking with her to the house, which is a beautiful beach house with a perfect deck.

  “Oh, Lord,” Adele says.

  “What?” I ask.

  Adele points to the road that snakes around the main hill. There is only one main road throughout this small island and there is a car travelling up the road.

  “That’s Prophet Chambers. He heads a church out here and he focuses on healing,” Adele says.

  “Okay, so what’s wrong?”

  “He’s on his way to visit Mrs. Dixon, the wife of a prominent doctor out here.”

  I don’t need any more clues to put together that Mr. Dixon is unaware that his wife will be visited by the prophet. Nor do I need to cut my vacation short and go back to work.

  Readers’ Questions

  1. Do you think church problem solvers like Nicodemus Dungy exist?

  2. Do you think Nicodemus Dungy is a minister or a cover-up artist?

  3. Should someone who openly drinks and smokes cigarettes work in ministry?

  4. Which scene was more powerful: Nicodemus praying for the entire church or him ministering to the prostitute?

  5. Will Pastor Robinson and her husband Tony’s marriage survive?

  6. Does there exist a double-standard when it comes to women ministers?

  7. What are your thoughts on the scene between Nicodemus and Pastor Dawkins?

  8. Do you think Victory is going to meet Nicodemus on the island?

  9. What potential clients could you see Nicodemus taking on in the future (fictional and/or real)?

  10. Would you like to read another Nicodemus Dungy story?

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  When It All Falls Down Copyright © 2013 Dijorn Moss

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