Guilty By Association

by Pat Simmons

  “I’m thinking about staying … in St. Louis, but not at your place much longer.”

  Parke’s grin stretched across his face. Then he sobered. “Oh, man. Sorry, you’re leaving so soon.”

  They shared a laugh.

  “Well, I guess it’s good night, and hope to see you at service tomorrow. You’ve got the address to Faith Miracle Church?”

  Kidd strained his brain. When did he actually say he was going? “Considering you have church programs strategically placed in the kitchen, on the coffee table, in bathrooms, and I even found one in the laundry basket.” Kidd gave him a suspicious frown.

  “Hmmm, imagine that. Children hide the strangest things.” Parke’s smile was anything but angelic.

  “I don’t think I’ll have a problem finding it.”

  “Good.” Parke stood and walked out of the room.

  It wasn’t long after that Kidd clicked off the TV and retired to his room. Sure enough, Parke had slid another church program under his bedroom door. “So much for subtle hints.”

  Kidd disrobed and got under the covers, but he was far from sleepy. He thought about his mother and brother. He wondered if God held the same disappointment in him as Kidd held for Ace.

  “God,” Kidd whispered, “thank You for letting me be here …” There was so much he wanted to get off his chest, but refrained. “Just thank You, Lord. Good night.”

  The next morning, the sun’s rays pounded against Kidd’s window, nudging him awake. With one eye, he glanced at the clock—8 a.m. He moaned and rolled over. “Parke didn’t say anything about Sunday school.”

  An hour later, Kidd woke up and propped himself on his elbows. “Might as well get this over with.”

  Planting his feet on the thick, multicolored rug, he padded to the bathroom. Parke didn’t beg him to go to church—verbally. Otherwise, Kidd would have disowned him as a Jamieson. Jamiesons do not beg. But when it came to Parke’s friend, who ironically had shot his father-in-law, he overlooked that big time. To Kidd, it didn’t sound like an accident. He didn’t get it; Parke was a different breed.

  In record time, he showered, dressed, and grabbed breakfast to go. Bottled orange juice and a bagel would hold him. The church wasn’t far from where Parke lived.

  Fifteen minutes later, he arrived late. Kidd cruised down the aisles of the church’s packed parking lot a couple of times before securing a space. The next task was spying out his cousins. With the aid of an usher, he found them. Malcolm and Parke created an opening between them as if it was a trap to hold him in position for the Lord to pounce on him.

  After settling into his seat, Kidd stretched his legs and scanned the sanctuary. All eyes were riveted on their leader, who was standing at the podium with his Bible open. Kidd was later than he thought. He missed the good stuff—the music.

  “He’s our pastor.” Parke identified him, in a low voice. “Pastor Scott.”

  “God promised Abraham he would be a father of many nations in Genesis 17, but Abraham is not my focus today. It’s what happened after God issued the edict that I want to talk about. When God promises us anything, let’s take it to the bank. It won’t bounce, because God’s Word cannot return to Him void. The Bible says His Word will complete the mission. Oh, and while I’m at it, God doesn’t need us to tinker with His promises. He’s got this!

  “Here’s an example: Isaac was Abraham’s chosen son, but what about Hagar’s son? After all, Ishmael was the offspring of a slaveholder and a slave woman, who happened to be his wife’s handmaiden. Inferior to some, but despite Ishmael’s background, he was still important to God and didn’t get left out of the blessing.”

  Pastor Scott shouted, “Hallelujah!” And the congregation responded the same. Then the man of God continued. “Now let’s fast-forward to the New Testament. God—wrapped in a body called Jesus—hung on a tree. I guess in modern terms we might say He was lynched. He was humiliated, despised, and bruised for our sins. Yet—”

  The pastor lifted his finger and wagged it at the congregation. “Jesus redeemed us, paid our debt in full, not with currency or human bondage, but with His blood. We are no longer slaves to any man, thing, or sin. We are, as 1 Peter 2:9 reminds us, ‘a chosen generation.’ Read it for yourselves. The entire chapter addresses our struggles and sufferings in life.”

  Kidd frowned, failing to see the correlation. He began to daydream until Parke nudged him to stand for altar call.

  “What is your hold out?” Pastor Scott labored.

  Others, who apparently felt the conviction, walked down the aisle to the front. Ministers were waiting to pray for them or prepare them for baptism. Parke felt the need to explain what was happening to Kidd, as if he didn’t already know. He had witnessed his mother’s moment of repentance and what happened after she was baptized. He knew what was up. Yet Kidd didn’t feel any stirring, so he quietly observed.

  Finally able to relax after the service had concluded, he felt a sense of immediate satisfaction. It was never his intention to succumb to any pressure for a conversion he wasn’t seeking. After the benediction, Parke and Cheney were more than happy to introduce Kidd to several people, who raved about the sermon. He was mostly silent as they all shared in the excitement of how their pastor broke it down.

  When his cousins started to parade one church sister after another to greet him, he knew it was time to go. Only one woman, Eva, enticed him without trying. And she was a tough act to follow.

  Kidd said his good-byes and walked out of the house of God. When his shoes touched the parking lot pavement, God’s voice seemed to zap him like lightning.

  The day you hear My voice, harden not your heart.

  Swallowing, Kidd slowed his steps and looked over his shoulder. There wasn’t a soul nearby, which meant only one thing. God was indeed talking to him again.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Eva gritted her teeth. She was helping her mother carry home large plastic bags of clothing they bought from the Goodwill. Dragging the heavy bags into her parents’ house, she was beyond frustration.

  “Mom, something must be wrong with me. I can’t be attracted to the wrong man. It’s a trick of the devil.”

  Rita Savoy chuckled. “Honey, there are worse things. You could be married to the wrong man.”

  “Mom, aren’t you listening? Out of nowhere, my heart is starting to fight against my common sense. Instead of sending out warning signals, it’s telling me to ‘stop, feel him out, and give him a chance.’ A chance for what? To become an angry Black woman with an attitude like his? I must have lost my mind!” She mocked. “How can I be drawn to Kidd—he’s a …”

  “A man with a good job,” Rita filled in the gap. “That’s a big plus right there.”

  “Yeah, well, he acts like he doesn’t want to be there.”

  If Kidd could only shed his negative vibes, what wouldn’t there be to like about him? But he was like a scalding hot pot with legs. And when he boiled over, how could anyone, far or near, not get burned—including her?

  “Sometimes, we all feel that way at work. But he’s there.”

  “Please don’t take the underdog’s side, Mom. He doesn’t bring out the best in me. You know, like the Marvin Sapp song says. So it boggles my mind how I can long for a man who is probably not the best fit for me.”

  “Have you ever thought you could bring out the best in him?”

  “Nope. It’s hard getting blood out of a turnip. If I can’t shut down these feelings, I’m afraid I’ll find myself falling in love with him. Worse yet, I won’t know how or when it happened. God, why me?”

  “Love?” Her mother stopped untying bags. “Hmm. Really? Are your feelings that strong? If so, then are you going to resolve within your heart how much patience you’ll give him? Remember, ‘Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with th
e truth.7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.’”

  Eva sighed. “I know 1 Corinthians 13 says love never fails, but love has made fools out of many women,” she argued, fighting what was becoming obvious in her heart. At the same time, she realized the impact of her off-handed remark.

  “Mom, I didn’t mean that … I’m not referring to you personally …” Eva backtracked quickly. “The point I’m trying to make is that my salvation is at risk around that man.” Eva couldn’t stop harping. She walked to the kitchen sink and scrubbed the germs off her hands, after sifting through the piles of used clothes.

  Glancing out the window, she blinked. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Kidd’s handsome reflection winked at her as she dried her hands. She growled back.

  How the thought of a man’s moodiness flustered her. Eva couldn’t imagine the intensity of so-called sexual frustration. It was enough for her to deal with a mind game with Kidd. The challenge of it all was whipping her like a switch on a naked behind.

  “Mom, remember your old saying, ‘If it has three, let it be’?” It was a rule of thumb her mother used for how to identify poison ivy leaves. “Well, this man—Kidd—acts like an overgrown brush with more than three personalities. Whoever came up with the cliché, ‘be careful what you pray for,’ should win an award.”

  Eva shook her head in exasperation. “My intentions were good when I suggested the creation of a position to better serve the residents. If only I had known the type of person they would handpick to spearhead it, I would’ve kept my mouth shut.”

  Rita was a good listener and a wise counselor. But at the moment, Eva wanted her mom to condone her desire to stomp on Kidd’s foot, spike his soda with vinegar, or do something else out of her character. However, Rita knew that Eva was facing a serious matter of the heart and just needed to vent. So her mother remained quiet.

  Eva could have had this one-sided conversation from the balcony of her own home. She couldn’t care less about making a field trip out of shopping. But her mother had convinced her it would be a good day for them to bond. As it turned out, their bonding was nothing more than a smoke screen. In reality, she was called upon to act as chauffeur to fulfill Rita’s thrift-store-hopping addiction.

  Now that her daughterly duties were satisfied, her mother would sort through the three large plastic bags of clothes and other household items. Then every garment would be washed and made ready for Rita to donate to their women’s ministry program at church the next morning.

  How convenient that Angela had somehow dodged the bullet for their day of affinity. She wasn’t a thrift-store junkie either. If Angela couldn’t buy a name-brand item in a store at the mall, then she didn’t want it. Eva didn’t believe it was a coincidence that Lance whisked her clever sister away for a surprise early morning breakfast.

  Taking a seat at the kitchen table, Rita patted a chair next to her. Squinting, her mother took pleasure in scrutinizing Eva, which made her squirm under the examination.

  Rita Savoy was stunning in her younger years. Now, in her middle age, she was beautiful. Eva and Angela took after their father, Kenneth. The twins had his lashes, eyes, and lips—and that image hadn’t faded into adulthood. He often boasted, “Once daddy’s little girls, always his big girls.” They were still considered pretty, but what Eva wouldn’t give to have her mother’s thick hair and dark-brown skin tone.

  Rita was ready to offer her opinion. “From your description, his moods do appear to be antagonistic. I’m wondering,” she paused, “could he like you and be too shy—”

  “Shy?” Eva laughed. She thought about the times the man couldn’t hold his tongue around residents. Bold was definitely his forte. “This isn’t a grade-school crush. I’m twenty-seven years old. Shoot me now and put me out of my misery.”

  Her mother smiled as she reached for an apple in a bowl on the counter. “Could you like him and be misreading his signals toward you.” She definitely wasn’t posing a question.

  “How absurd.” Gritting her teeth, Eva stiffened. “Then shoot me twice. He’s not the kind of man I would want to bring home to meet my mom and dad.”

  “I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind meeting him.”

  “Mom, you aren’t helping. Granted, Kidd’s looks are worth a second glance, and I don’t mind looking. But not touching,” she admitted.

  Rita gave her daughter “the look,” as if she knew something Eva didn’t. A smirk followed.

  Eva held up her hands. “But the charm stops there.” She didn’t want her mother fantasizing about marriage and grandchildren. “Kidd’s got this raging ‘mad-at-anybody-who-breathes-on-him’ mentality. He barely hides his attitude, even while he’s dressed professionally in a shirt and tie. His hard edge and rough persona is deep-rooted. All he needs is gold teeth, some bling draped around his neck, and tattoos scattered all over his arms.” She turned up her nose in disgust.

  Her criterion for any man was that he had to hold her attention and attraction. But Kidd didn’t pass the test. With his see-saw personalities, Kidd’s qualities weren’t even worth entertaining. When he smiled and was in a pleasant mood, Eva enjoyed his company and conversation. When his demons seeped out, she wanted to bathe him in holy oil, call 9-1-1, and rush him to the nearest church for baptism. He desperately needed his soul cleansed.

  “Have you forgotten verse 21 in Romans 12 about not being overcome with evil, but overpower it with good? Since you really don’t know the man, he may be going through something. We’re too close to Jesus coming back, so don’t let his negative vibes be your downfall. When you’re around him, notch up your compassion. You realize we might not be having this conversation if you had invited him to church. Have you?”

  Eva swallowed. “No.” She sighed heavily. God must be disappointed in her for not reaching out to Kidd. Her mother was placing the torch in Eva’s hand to bring him to the finish line.

  The phone rang and Rita stood to answer it. Eva used the reprieve to reflect on her mother’s counsel. It was easy to be a practicing Christian when Kidd was in a good mood, but look out when some unseen cause kindled his wrath. She had allowed the flesh to override her oath to God to draw people to Him with loving-kindness. Not to mention the judging-people habit she was trying to overcome. From time to time, it reared its ugly head.

  Silently, she asked God to forgive her behavior and give her the strength to be a victor over a small obstacle such as this man. Rita ended the call and returned to the table, appearing to be ready to pick up where she left off.

  With the front door slightly opened, Eva and her mother watched as Angela and Lance approached the porch. Something must have distracted them when they pivoted and crossed the lawn.

  “Probably Miss Penny, wanting to show off her garden.” Rita smiled. “If she can snag you, she’s got company for at least ten minutes.” Tilting her head, as if she was thinking, Rita commented, “Lance is a sweetheart. He’s good-looking and adores your sister.”

  Even with all those accolades, the vibes between the pair came off as platonic. Eva twisted her lips. “Yeah, he’s the son you never had and the big brother I never wanted. If Angela ever says yes to the question he seems hesitant to ask, he’ll be a wimp for life.”

  “At least she’s closer to the altar than you.” Rita tweaked Eva’s nose and switched subjects. “I haven’t seen Dawn in a while, and you two haven’t gone shopping lately. What’s going on with her?”

  “Ha!” Rolling her eyes, Eva exhaled. “Mother, I shop for clothes, shoes, furniture—”

  “Yeah, and Dawn shops for men. What does she think of this Kidd guy? That girl is scandalous. If there’s a man within ten feet, she knows about it,” Rita said with a chuckle, not condemnation.

  “Dawn’s exact words were, ‘He’s a man’s man. They always have an attitude.’ In Dawn’s book, Kidd can do no wrong.” Eva shook her head and chuckled. “She’s a piece of work all right. Remember a while back when she tried to convince me to go to Ha
rrah’s Casino with her to see the Chippendales?”

  Rita laughed. “What was that she told you?”

  “You don’t have to touch, just drool,” they said practically in unison.

  “That’s when I told her the only man I plan to drool over is the one who has a gold band on his finger that matches mine. I mean that, Mom.”

  “Dawn doesn’t profess to be saved or practice an ounce of Christian living, yet you see the good in her. God paired you two up in a friendship. Surely, if we can see a redeeming quality in her, you can find something good in Kidd,” Rita said. She had always been fond of Dawn because the woman had bounced back after enduring an abusive marriage—with a makeover and a new attitude.

  “I never said Kidd wasn’t kind and didn’t have some good qualities. It’s the dormant anger that’s unexplainable. It’s sad, really. What a waste of energy.” If she could tap into whatever was the cause, perhaps she could drain the poison. But for a man as complex as Kidd, she would need a fire hose to flush it out.

  Eva did admire his limited interaction with the residents; he always had a smile for Mrs. Valentine and Mrs. Beacon. Kidd even had patience to play boring games with Mr. Abraham. Plus, she had heard the rumors about him fixing minor car problems for a couple of the custodians who didn’t have the money for repairs. Why couldn’t he overcome the bad things in his life with his goodness? She wondered.

  Because he has no power. God reminded her of a portion of Acts, chapter 1. Once the Holy Ghost comes, he shall receive power to live right.

  Christianity was the root of so much of Black people’s endurance. So why did people neglect to nurture their spiritual birthright? At times, Eva knew she was guilty of it too. How often had God bailed her out of trouble, only for her to forget about what God had done, moments after her drama was over? Yep, Eva was guilty of it too.

  “Take Dawn for instance,” Rita said, interrupting Eva’s musing. “That girl could have become bitter after being loyal to a husband who didn’t return her loyalty. Praise God, she moved on. I’ve learned there’s a Scripture for every situation. There are two classifications of people. First Timothy, chapter 1 says, ‘We also know that the law is made not for the righteous but for lawbreakers and rebels, the ungodly and sinful, the unholy and irreligious; for those who kill their fathers or mothers’, and the list goes on. But in the end, you know the verse that says, vengeance is the Lord’s and He will repay.”