by Dijorn Moss
Jamal knew exactly what Will was saying. He used to carry that same mentality.
“But even in the direst of situations, you still have a choice. I was like you at one time. I was on the block getting it in. Then I came to the crossroads and I chose life over death. You know your path leads to destruction and it’s on shaky ground,” Jamal concluded.
The vast darkness that was night could not conceal Will’s eyes nor his heart. He wanted to change, but he grappled with what type of realistic change he could make.
“I just don’t know about bowing down and praying to some Jesus that I can’t see.” Will shrugged.
“My brother, I learned something a long time ago. It is better to bow down to Jesus, who is the answer to all your problems, than to bow down to the circumstances of life and let life dictate for you how far you can go.”
Jamal just did not know how much he should push. He knew that the slightest increase in Jamal’s appeal for Will to change his life could lead to Will rejecting the entire process.
“It’s cool talking to you, because you know what it’s like out there,” Will told Jamal.
“Man, I have done and seen some things that I’m not proud of, but through it all, God has been there. He teaches me how to leave my past where it belongs: behind me.” Jamal paused before asking, “Do you believe in God?”
“Sometimes. But all I see is evidence that there is either no God or there is a lesser God. I can’t see myself bowing to a God like that.”
“We all have free will and that gives us either the choice to do tremendous good or great evil.”
Will only responded with a nod. In truth, Jamal still wrestled with some of the things that plagued Will. He’d seen kids born in some of the most destitute of situations, kids with the odds already stacked against them; they had no choice but to accept the lot afforded them. On the flip side, he had seen kids reject their lots in life and aspire to accomplish great things. Jamal chose to focus on the positive and not the negative. He left questions like, “Why is there suffering?” to the experts.
“You’ve walked some of the streets I’ve walked. How could you expect God to take care of you?” Will asked.
“I stay focused on God and I allow Him to order my steps. If I stay in God’s will, then I don’t have to worry about what’s to the left or right of me. Everything that comes against me has to fall.”
It was Jamal’s hope and prayer that he did not come off preachy to Will. He knew the young man was not looking to be sold a bill of goods. He wanted to give the young man something real to grasp.
“Look, Will, where do you see yourself five years from now?”
“I don’t know.”
Jamal got chills from that statement. Will had to be at least eighteen or nineteen years old. To be in a mental place where he had no idea where he was headed with his life was beyond belief. “That’s the thing; when you’re out there running the streets, you can’t see the future because there is no future. You owe it to yourself to at least give yourself a chance to see if life can turn out for the better with God. Because with God, the possibilities are endless.”
Everything Jamal said seemed to go over Will’s head. He seemed to be overwhelmed, and Jamal could understand. Sometimes an encounter with God could be terrifying.
Jamal’s attention was turned toward the stars. The moon seemed to have plenty of company tonight. Out of his peripheral vision, Jamal could see that Will was also enjoying His goodness tonight. A peaceful night was another example that God could show something better than words could describe. At this moment, Jamal could pull all of the words from the dictionary, and none of them would satisfy what his eyes were beholding.
Quincy admitted this: Dr. Watson could still put on a good show. He was thoroughly entertained by Pastor Watson’s sermon. For a spell, Quincy allowed himself to be caught up in the emotions of the event, and neglected his original purpose: to destroy one of the ministers. He strolled along the rocky path and considered the question posed tonight. Where are you?
The question brought him to a complete stop just short of his room, where several of the men had begun to congregate. Where are you? Quincy was a middle-aged man with the arms of a twenty-year-old and a mouth that could sell snow to an Eskimo. He was at the pinnacle of his career, and he was about to release his soul from his biggest mistake: his wife Karen. So why did something feel out of joint? He was never someone who was afraid to reach up and grab the brass ring, but the thought that he had cleared every hurdle and had nothing else to claim frightened him. There were no more mountain-tops, just conquered territory.
Yet, something eluded him. He felt kind of silly for just standing in the road. So he walked slowly toward the group of men and considered what was missing. He pulled out his cell phone and was about to call Karen, until he realized that the nature of their relationship had changed.
Usually he would give her a call after the service and let her hear the excitement in his voice and how jubilant he was about getting closer to God. Quincy had also made vows to be a better husband. Most of his attendance at church was to appease Karen, but the Retreat was one event that brought forth an earnest desire to get closer to God. Vows that he would disregard no sooner than his return home.
Quincy reminisced about previous Retreats, and how Karen would stand outside of church on Sunday and wait for him to return in the caravan with the rest of the guys. She would then flash a big smile and run down the church steps to wrap her arms around him and plant a big, fat, juicy kiss on Quincy’s lips.
It was a tradition at Greater Anointing that the men lead the service in praise and worship upon their return from the Retreat. Karen would sit in the pews with a glow on her face as she watched her husband give praise unto God. After church, Karen would cook Quincy his favorite dish: catfish and greens. She would let him watch the football games uninterrupted, and at night she would give him good loving by the fire.
None of those things would await Quincy when he got home this weekend. He imagined he would down a bottle of brandy and maybe watch an adult movie. He might even go back to Vegas. A marriage needed more than just a few days out of the year to go the distance. Twenty years of marriage were marked by different checkpoints and several crossroads where the marriage might meet its demise. But Quincy never questioned Karen’s loyalty, and had been blindsided by her affair. The affair had rocked him, and to this day he could not see a foregone conclusion.
Until a few days ago, he upheld the vows of his marriage, though for years it felt like a slow strangle. His rendezvous with Candy the call girl did not make him feel any better. He did not feel like he evened up the score. Candy was a girl who Quincy had to pay for her time. She gave him pleasure and left Quincy with shame; the kind of shame that does not wash off easily. Karen, on the other hand, had formed a bond with another man. That was a microcosm of how distant their marriage had grown.
Yes, he could, at times, be difficult to be with, but none of Quincy’s offenses could warrant his wife to cheat.
“Hey, Quincy, what you doing just standing there?” Jonathon, a member of the church, said.
Quincy became embarrassingly aware that he had just been standing in the same spot, allowing his thoughts to impede his steps.
“Oh, I was about to give the wife a call, but I keep forgetting that she’s probably asleep by now,” Quincy lied.
“Not mine. My wife has trouble sleeping if big daddy is not there to hold her,” Jonathon said.
Quincy forced a smile. He was not up for a sword-measuring contest at this hour. Besides, if the challenge involved comparing wives, then this would be a challenge he would automatically lose. Quincy walked over and put his hands on top of the extending doorway. He leaned forward as if he was about to do pull-ups. He observed the men standing around, shooting the breeze.
“It’s good to see you, Q,” Jonathon said. “I haven’t really seen you at church lately.”
“Work has consumed all my time. What do y
ou do when you’re the best at what you do and people cannot seem to work without you?”
Quincy could tell that he was talking to a sheep rather than a shepherd: a man who followed orders rather than gave them. Fear and mediocrity permeated these men. Quincy couldn’t wait to free himself from men who used their faith as a justification for a lesser life. From a distance, the sound of chatter caught Quincy’s attention, and he saw two figures move through the concealment of night. Jamal and the new guy, Will, soon emerged.
“What’s up, guys?” Jamal greeted them.
“Nothing, just shooting the breeze,” Jonathon replied.
“So, Will, what do you do for a living?” Jonathon asked.
“I’m into exporting cars,” Will said.
“How old are you?” Quincy asked.
“Nineteen,” Will replied.
His age went over everyone’s head except for Quincy’s. “Exporting cars” for someone Will’s age meant “stealing cars.” He now had a clear question mark over his head regarding Will and his place of employment. He wondered if Will was involved in shady dealings.
“Look at that!” Jonathon pointed into the darkness.
Several creatures moved throughout the darkness, and Quincy became aware of how loud his heart was beating.
“What is that?” Jamal asked.
Just then the creatures took off running and revealed themselves to be raccoons heading toward the men. The guys scattered like buckshots, some running into their rooms and others toward their cars. They were soon outnumbered by the small fleet of raccoons. Quincy didn’t believe himself to be in any real danger, and he could not tear himself away from the scene unfolding. Grown men were running from raccoons.
“I’ll handle this!” Quincy headed toward his vehicle. He opened up the trunk, removed a new 9 iron, and started to stomp toward the raccoons.
“Fore!” Quincy swung at the raccoon like an opening drive. He not only missed, but slipped and fell on the ground. “Aw, get away from me!” Quincy got up and took off running toward the corner of the cabin with everyone else.
He heard the sound of his room door open and checked to make sure a raccoon had not ran in. Moments later, Will emerged with a gun in his hands, and fired shots into the ground.
The men stopped running and noticed that Will had a gun in his hands. The raccoons scattered into the bushes.
“What? I go hunting,” Will said.
“You go hunting with a handgun?” Quincy asked.
“Yeah, I hunt bears.”
All the men began to laugh at the surreality of the moment. Quincy did not laugh, but became certain that Will was not all that he said he was.
Chapter Eighteen
Quincy could not remember the last time he laughed so hard. For that matter, he could not even remember Chauncey ever laughing. He did not know that laughter could exist in such a stiff-neck.
“Man, I need to put that on YouTube, you and that golf club!” Jamal laughed while lying down.
“You can’t make money off of YouTube, but America’s Funniest Home Videos is a different story.” Quincy continued to laugh, then pointed toward Will. “And Wesley Snipes over here came out of nowhere shooting. Talking about you go hunting. And where you from again?”
“Long Beach!” Will said.
“What are you hunting in the middle of Long Beach?”
There was another round of laughter, and then Quincy lay down on his bed and played with his BlackBerry. Jamal sat at the edge of his bed and started to do arm stretches. Chauncey lay next to his nightstand, thumbing through his Bible, while Will sat in a chair next to a table.
“This has made the whole weekend worth it to me,” Jamal said.
“As funny as the whole raccoon thing is, it’s nothing in comparison to Dr. Watson’s sermon. That man was on fire tonight,” Chauncey said.
“Whatever.” Quincy rolled his eyes and continued to play with his BlackBerry.
“That man was deep. I can’t lie,” Will said.
“Is this your first time at a Retreat?” Quincy asked Will.
“Yeah. I used to go to church with my moms, but I wasn’t feeling it. I mean, they made Jesus seem like a punk!” Will said.
“Oh, my Lord. That’s not true!” Chauncey popped up.
“Is he always like this?” Will asked Jamal, referring to Chauncey.
“Pretty much,” Quincy interjected.
“Why do you feel that way about Jesus?” Chauncey asked.
Will shrugged. “I don’t know all this stuff about turning the other cheek, loving your enemies, and Him being spit on and not doing nothing. That’s weak to me. There’s no way I could survive in this world if I thought and acted that way. There is no way Jesus could survive in my world.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. The scripture says that he was wounded for our transgression and condemned for our iniquities.” Chauncey started to spank his Bible.
“I ain’t trying to be funny or nothing, but I just got out of church. I mean, you didn’t even listen to the man before, now you’re spitting out scriptures at him,” Quincy said.
“I have to combat such nonsense with the Word. I’m serious about this Christian walk. I’ve memorized over six hundred verses.”
“So what? You’re at a cocktail party and all of a sudden you just start spitting out scriptures?” Quincy asked.
“I don’t go to cocktail parties.” Chauncey sounded accosted by Quincy’s statement.
“I’m not surprised. I couldn’t imagine you going, or anyone inviting you for that matter,” Quincy replied.
“Hold on, hold on. Will brought up a real serious issue.” Jamal turned to Will. “Jesus was not a punk. He chose to be a powerful example instead of an example of his power. It’s easy to disrespect people when they disrespect you. The real power comes when you choose to go against the grain and not react.’”
“Amen!” Chauncey said.
“And it’s offering time,” Quincy said as he sat up.
Will and Quincy enjoyed a good laugh.
“I also can’t get into the whole sex thing. I mean, my father raised me that a man don’t turn down nothing unless the girl is fat, ugly, fertile, or has an STD,” Will remarked.
“Your father sounds like my father. Otis Bryant?” Jamal asked.
Quincy could see the Christians closing in on the new guy, and though Quincy understood that Chauncey and Jamal were only trying to help Will, he could not stand to see anyone get double-teamed.
“I can kind of see where he’s coming from,” Quincy said.
“No, Q, that’s horrible. That’s why so many men have problems now,” Jamal said.
“I’m not saying that I totally agree, but look at him.” Quincy pointed at Will. “What are you, eighteen, nineteen?”
“I’m nineteen,” Will answered.
“See, when I was his age, you wouldn’t find me at no church event. I’d be in a car, cruising the boulevard. I had to go see those honey dips, why you playing?”
“You’re just corrupting his mind. The Bible is clear on sex outside of marriage. It’s a sin,” Chauncey said.
“C-man, you can’t tell me you ain’t slipped up and got a piece,” Quincy said with a smile.
“Actually, I haven’t.” Chauncey was nonchalant in his remark.
“You’re a virgin?” Will asked.
“Yes, I’m a virgin. I am waiting for the right woman. God’s best!”
“What about when you weren’t saved?” Jamal asked.
“I got saved when I was eight years old. God’s way is the only way I’ve known.”
Will let out a long whistle and Quincy nodded in agreement to Will. Quincy could not wrap his head around what Chauncey had just said. If it weren’t Chauncey spilling this ridiculous story, he would not believe it.
“C, you’re older than me. If you’re still a virgin, that’s a sin! And waiting for the right woman, she’s going to be eligible for social security by the time you get ready.”
“I’m only thirty-seven,” Chauncey replied.
“Keeping it one hundred. I respect you, Chauncey, for waiting that long. I wish I was that strong,” Jamal said.
“You are—we all are—and we all got the light of God flowing inside of us.” Chauncey made eye contact with everyone.
“Speaking of light, I’m about to hit the lights. I’m tired and I know we got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Will took off his shirt and started to flex his muscles in his white tank top. Jamal also had on a white tank top, and he too started to flex his muscles. Not to be outdone, Quincy took his shirt off and started to flex his muscles. Of course, his flabby stomach was evident through his white T-shirt.
Quincy vowed to join a gym as soon he returned home. Quincy did not notice that Chauncey had gone into the bathroom until he heard the sound of a flush. The door opened, and Chauncey emerged in a blue nightgown. Now Quincy was convinced that Chauncey was a virgin.
“I will say one thing though, Will. I’m not a virgin, but I wish I would have waited. There is something special about waiting until you find your wife,” Jamal said.
“I don’t, playboy. What if I waited and she turns out to be horrible at sex?” Will asked.
“You’re a guy; she would have to be darn near a corpse for that to happen,” Quincy said as he lay back down in the bed.
All the men laughed, and Quincy even caught a laugh from Chauncey. For the first night, Quincy would have to admit that it was eventful. One could only wonder what was in store for tomorrow.
Chapter Nineteen
The alarm woke Chauncey up and seemed to only cause a minor disruption in the sleep of his roommates. He avoided hitting the snooze button and switched the alarm off. The paleness of dawn peeked through a small curtain opening. Chauncey got up, put on a black sweat suit, and grabbed his Bible as he exited the door.
The ocean water was gray and choppy. Seagulls had already started their routine of flying about. Chauncey found a spot on the beach next to the rocks where he planned on having a morning devotional. He brushed some of the sand off the rocks and sat on one of the smooth stones.
