Mercy, Mercy Me

by Ronn Elmore

  Like everything else that happened since he’d come to New Orleans, he found a home for his church right away. It was a small pink building with two rooms—shotgun style—on Dauphine. The building was fine—except for the fumes that seeped through the thin walls from the gas station next door, but L.W. could not be picky. Despite his lack of credit and references, the owner had still agreed to rent the building to L.W.

  “It’s good to meet a Christian man,” the old man said to L.W. “Ain’t nothing but sin roun’ here. We need more preachers like you in this city.”

  L.W. signed the lease. He knew the offerings would pay the rent. The next week, he opened the doors of the Alpha and Omega Greater Baptist Church. Only five attended that first week. They had heard of the new church from handwritten flyers that L.W. had tucked inside the portals of neighborhood houses. L.W. preached as if he had an audience of thousands. The next week, eleven came to Sunday service, one of them, Ms. Anna, offering the use of an old piano for the church.

  “Pastor Lejohn, it’s not the Lord’s house until we can lift our voices in song. I haven’t touched my piano in years. I’m willing to donate it to you for the good work you’re doing for the Lord.”

  L.W. graciously accepted Ms. Anna’s offer, gathering a few men to help him move the piano into the church, and when Ms. Anna sat down at the bench, Beverlyn joined in singing the tunes that Ms. Anna played. At first, L.W. was startled at the sheer power of Beverlyn’s voice. Hers was a little girl’s body, but with a woman’s sound. He quickly recovered himself and put Beverlyn to work.

  For the next week, Ms. Anna worked with Beverlyn every day, teaching her how to project from her diaphragm, how to read sheet music, and how to invite the Holy Ghost to every performance. “You have to lift your hands and stomp your feet,” Ms. Anna told her. “Do that and people will fall out in the aisles. And if you can add a tear or two, that’s even better.”

  When Beverlyn finally stood next to Ms. Anna two Sundays later, the thirteen people in the congregation stood and raised their hands in praise to the Lord. The next Sunday, there were twenty-five in the sanctuary, and by the end of the next month, almost fifty filled the mismatched folding chairs that members had brought from their homes.

  L.W.’s income doubled, and he began to give great thought to how he could make better use of Beverlyn, who was a big part of the reason why the church had begun to grow. He decided to change the program, having her sing just before the offering.

  “Now, before we bring our tithes and offerings to the Lawd, I want to bring forth a young lady whom I’m very proud of—my niece, Beverlyn Lejohn.”

  Beverlyn’s singing dazzled the new members while still amazing the old ones. The change in program had worked. The offering doubled that Sunday. The next month, L.W. put in two offerings, one right before Beverly sang and one shortly thereafter.

  “Blessed Assurance. Jesus is mine …”

  The money flowed. Not only were there now more than one hundred people sitting in that small building, but he collected almost a thousand dollars every week.

  One night, as L.W. watched Beverlyn wash their dinner dishes, a revelation came to him. She was a gift from God. That had to be the reason why he had found her so quickly. As he sat, he was sure he even heard God’s voice.

  “This is my gift to you, Linson, for your faithful service to me.”

  That was all L.W. needed to hear. He sat up all night, and before the sun’s first rays burst into the apartment, L.W. had his plan. That morning, he found a friend of a friend who knew someone with a recording studio in the back of their house. It took much of the money he’d collected and some he had to borrow, but making Beverlyn’s recording demo was an investment he was sure would pay him back a millionfold.

  And he had been right on target. Her first record had gone straight to the top of the charts—as did her next two. It made it easier when a few years later L.W. was able to introduce Beverlyn to the speaking circuit. However, it still took him nearly a decade to break her onto the megachurch circuit, where speaking and/or preaching engagements brought anywhere from ten thousand to twenty-five thousand dollars, and the exposure was phenomenal.

  The top speaking slots were few and far between, and it wasn’t so easy for L.W. to break Beverlyn in. He’d done a lot of sucking up to get her the plum dates: the T. D. Jakes conventions, Pastor Eddie Long’s conferences, the Full Gospel Baptist Church Fellowship’s annual convention, Bishop Kenneth Ulmer’s Rev. Sister Conference, Ernestine Reems’s women’s conference, Dennis Leonard’s “Fire in the Rockies,” Rod Parsley’s annual meet, Marvin Winans’s convocation, the National Baptist Convention, and Dr. Beverly “BAM” Crawford’s annual LAMPS convention.

  Small wonder that the slots on the megachurch circuit were coveted: Why, she’d sold nearly eight thousand copies of her third album at the Extraordinary Woman conference the year before she set out to launch her own crusade.

  Competition was stiff, with names like Bishop Noel Jones, Myles Monroe, Mark Chironna, Juanita Bynum, Jacqueline McCullough, and Creflo Dollar, dominating key dates on the conference circuit, but after a decade of trying, L.W. broke Beverlyn Boudreaux into the inner circle—one of his biggest accomplishments and something Beverlyn had wanted more than anything.

  “Uncle Linson, why can’t we get T. D. Jakes?”

  “We will, Beverlyn,” he’d tell her. “But we’ve got to pay our dues first.”

  He and Beverlyn had been through so much together. They were a team, and nothing but nothing would get between them. He had worked too hard raising her and getting her to the top. It’s all he’d ever done that worked.

  A hard knock on the door pulled him from his sea of memories. He saw the knob of his door turn, but the door was still locked.

  “L.W., it’s Beverlyn.”

  Slowly, he lowered his feet from the desk, threw his empty cup in the trash, locked the secret place that hid his liquor, then opened the door for his niece.

  “Why was it locked?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I did it out of habit.”

  “You said you wanted to speak with me.”

  L.W. returned to his desk. “Did I?”

  “Yes, when you left the meeting, you asked me to stop by,” Beverlyn said as she slumped into the overstuffed leather chair.

  L.W. rubbed his eyes. “I can’t remember what I wanted.”

  “Well, there is something I want to discuss with you.”

  He looked up.

  “What was that all about in the meeting today?” She leaned forward. “Why did you challenge Dwayne? I thought you weren’t going to be involved.”

  Finally, he met her eyes. “Beverlyn, honey, I’m the president of this business. My job is to make sure that every aspect of this company reflects well on Beverlyn Boudreaux Ministries.”

  Beverlyn leaned back in the chair adjacent to his desk. “I know that, Uncle Linson. But everyone could feel the tension at the table. You seemed to be challenging Dwayne. Do you have a problem with him?”

  L.W. chuckled inside. No one gave him problems, because he never allowed anyone to give him problems. “Of course not,” he said with practiced sincerity. “I know that his is our most important program. That’s why it’s so critical that everything go well, right down to the last detail—particularly the name.”

  Beverlyn shook her head in doubt.

  “If it seemed like I had a problem or I caused one, I’m sorry. Do you want me to apologize to Dwayne?”

  “No, maybe I’m just overreacting.” Then she peered into his eyes. “Uncle Linson, one of the things that attracted Dwayne to this project was that it was completely his.”

  “Now, honey, we can’t turn over everything to him, or anyone else for that matter. This is our vision. Besides, Dwayne knows nothing about television—”

  “I know,” she said, cutting him off. “Dwayne is not interested in the technical aspect. But the actual show—the format and its name …” She paused, letting her wor
ds hang between them. “Those kinds of things he should play a key role in.”

  L.W. held his niece’s gaze. Finally, he said, “That’s fine, as long as I know you’ll be involved.” He paused for a moment. “And you’ll come to me if you need my help.”

  “Uncle Linson, can’t I always count on you? By the way, did you talk to Pastor Milton about our take on the Spirit Alive Conference? I’m not so sure he was all that clear on the way the deal was set up.”

  “Yeah,” L.W. noted. “He tried to get me down to twenty percent of the take, but I told him that your standard on dates like this where you were a huge part of the draw was thirty percent.”

  “That includes the hotel bookings as well, right?”

  “Beverlyn, I got it all straight. I told him before he passes any offering plates, he’d better have our cut. So don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. Let me do my job.”

  “I know. It’s just sometimes it makes me mad. They think because I’m a woman that I’ll take less.” She turned to leave, then stopped suddenly and turned back. “What do you think about including Dr. Grandison on some of the crusade dates? It would be a great way to promote the new show.” Beverlyn smiled for the first time since she’d come into the office.

  “You’re taken with that young man, aren’t you?”

  “What if I am? Look at him. Successful. Brilliant. Good-looking. Single. He’s a good man who loves the Lord. I’d like to have a family. Maybe it’s time for me to make time for a relationship. I don’t know that he’s the right man for me, but I do know that since I met him, I’ve been thinking maybe it’s time.”

  “Maybe it’s not,” he said sternly. “There’s a lot going on in your life right now. With the Jubilee Network and your speaking and singing, I don’t want you overwhelmed.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me, Uncle Linson.”

  “I don’t know any other way to be,” L.W. said honestly. Long ago, he’d had another revelation—he really did love his sister’s child.

  Beverlyn stood, walked around the desk, and kissed her uncle on the cheek. “That’s why I love you. I’ll see you later at the house.”

  L.W. watched Beverlyn walk across the office. He smiled as she waved and slowly closed the door behind her. Ever since incorporating Beverlyn Boudreaux Ministries, L.W. had become one of the few enterprising evangelists able to turn lucrative speaking engagements and concert dates into a multimedia empire. He’d learned long ago that enterprise is about generating streams of revenue far beyond any one single entity, and he left little space for others to err. He waited only a minute before he picked up the phone and buzzed Kim.

  “Do you have any information for me yet?” he said when she entered the room.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nobody is loving you for no reason.” Lafayette pointed at the congregation as he paced the pulpit. “People get to know one another for reasons. And I don’t think there’s anybody here today who simply loves somebody for what they can do for them and not get anything in return. I love you because you stimulate me. I love you because you’re attractive to me. One writer says, ‘There is desire in all who admire.’ There is no way to compliment and admire without a modicum of desire—because it is coming out of the desire of the flesh and the desire of the mind. You do not hang too long with anybody who does not give you something in return.

  “The bigger the bank account, the more I love you. I love you because you have something I want, something I want to identify with, or something I want to get close to.

  “Now, here comes the frustration. Often, we make deals in relationships. We say okay, I’ll invest a little up front, but I have to receive some dividends. And if we aren’t paid back, we’ll find somebody else. But God doesn’t play games. The love I gave Him back is the love He gave me. It’s the love of the Lord—that’s the only reason I’m here. He loves you so much that He’s getting ready to open the windows of heaven and bless you. That is your salvation today.”

  The congregation shouted as Lafayette stepped from the pulpit and walked toward the back of the sanctuary. Everyone stayed in place until the final note was played on the keyboard. Dwayne hugged his mother, then took her hand and escorted her to the back.

  “I’m sorry you won’t be joining us for dinner, son,” Bernice said. “But give Sean my best.”

  “I will. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Dwayne kissed his mother and Robbie on the cheek, exchanged greetings with Monique and her two sons, and slapped his brother on the back. “Great word, man.”

  After Dwayne had finished with the familial good-byes, his eyes searched the sanctuary. He weaved through the maze of exiting worshipers, stopping occasionally to speak to familiar members, as his eyes focused on the west side of the sanctuary until he was standing in front of them.

  “Mr. Dwayne!”

  Dwayne hunched down. “How are you, Omari?” he asked, running his hand along the boy’s navy-blue suit. “You look great, young man. I was wondering if you like basketball.”

  “Boy, do I! I love the Lakers.”

  “Then you might like these.” Dwayne pulled two tickets from his pocket and handed them to Omari.

  “Mom, look!”

  Nina smiled at her son, then looked at Dwayne.

  “I tried to get three, but I could only get two. Those are floor seats.”

  “We’re going to be sitting on the floor?”

  “Yup. You and your mom should have a good time.”

  Nina frowned. “Oh, I thought you… ,” Nina started.

  “I thought you’d never ask. If you want me to take Omari, I will.”

  Nina playfully slapped Dwayne on the arm. “I had a feeling that was the plan. It’s very nice of you, Dwayne.”

  “My pleasure!” He patted Omari’s head. “Listen, I have a meeting.”

  Nina’s smile faded slightly. “No problem. By the way, I got your message about Wednesday with the women’s group.”

  “We’ll be getting together on Tuesday too. That’s the day of the game. I’ll call you to make arrangements.”

  “Well, we’ll see you then,” Nina said, taking Omari’s hand.

  “Thank you for the tickets, Mr. Dwayne.”

  “No problem, kiddo.”

  Dwayne’s eyes followed Nina as she led Omari toward the front doors. He watched the gentle sway of her hips and the way she threw back her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder when she stopped to speak to others. Wow, she was a beautiful woman.

  But, he thought, should he chance ruining their professional relationship? Turning quietly, Dwayne slipped out of the side door to his car. He looked at his watch. He would still get to brunch at Le Grille on time.

  He turned on the radio and smiled as Aundrae Russell announced the beginning of Spread the Word, tapping his fingers along the steering wheel as the intro melody played. It was a beautiful day—a great choice for Sunday brunch with Sean.

  Brunch had been Sean’s idea. He hadn’t been up to their weekend tennis match. Besides, this time they could really catch up—something they so often didn’t do while playing their usual fierce and competitive tennis matches. Besides, there was a lot he wanted to run by Sean, who had ironically enough once been a client, and though Dwayne referred to many of his former and current clients as acquaintances, only Sean did he consider a friend.

  After all, they had become best friends as they’d grown to know each other over the past five years. Sean’s need for therapy waned and their conversations were now reciprocal. Dwayne was not always the doctor, especially during the past year, when Sean had allowed Dwayne to be the patient many times.

  Sean Wiley had first come to him—broken and on the verge of suicide—referred by Harrison David, the star of NBC’s new hit drama, Garry and Me. David’s frantic call implored him to schedule an emergency meeting with Dwayne.

  The next evening when Sean Wiley walked into his office, Dwayne barely recognized the soulful singer who had wowed audien
ces for more than a decade and whose claim to fame was a body that could gyrate in six different directions at once. From his unkempt, unshaven appearance to the way he held his head uncharacteristically down, Sean looked like a man on the brink of permanent collapse. It didn’t help that Sean’s eyes only occasionally met Dwayne’s—instead seeming to focus mostly on the large windows. For a moment, Dwayne had wondered if the singer was considering how he could get outside to the ledge.

  “I don’t even know why I’m here.” Sean’s voice shook when he spoke.

  “I hope you’re here so that I can help.”

  It was one of the only moments when Sean looked directly into Dwayne’s eyes. “I’ve been told that I’m going to die. Unless you’re God, you can’t help me.”

  Dwayne hesitated, then said, “First, you’ve been told something we all know—death is a journey we’re all going to take. Second, I’m not God, but I do know Him.”

  Sean’s astonishment confirmed to Dwayne that he had caught the Grammy-winning singer off guard. With that, Dwayne leaned forward and began the first in a series of sessions that eventually led Sean to the Lord.

  In the beginning, Dwayne had been worried about his friend, particularly after Sean had revealed that the womanizing reputation he’d earned had brought a deadly force into his life—AIDS. Keeping it out of the press had been difficult. Lately whenever they’d spoken, Sean reassured his friend that he was in a place where many Christian entertainers find themselves: between knowing of God and knowing God. Then he’d say, “I know the Lord now and I know what I have to do to stay close to Him. Just keep me in your prayers.”

  To Dwayne’s relief, Sean met Beverlyn only months later, and with her encouragement, he converted not only his life but his music too. Given his newfound passion, Sean found himself at the right place at the right time. Contemporary gospel was exploding thanks to Yolanda Adams, Kirk Franklin, Donnie McClurkin, and others. Seven months later, he released his first self-titled contemporary gospel album, soaring to heights above any he had achieved before. Sean and Dwayne had since come to share a kinship closely resembling that of blood brothers.