by Dijorn Moss
“What, you want to do something?” Otis turned off his grill and took off his towel with his fists balled. The standoff caught the attention of the other partygoers.
The tension drowned out the music and all the witty banter.
“Come on, Jamal, let’s go.” Chantel took Jamal by the arm, and being aware of his frailty, Jamal decided to follow along.
“That’s right, follow your little slut like the broad you are.” Otis waved Jamal on toward the direction of Chantel.
With all his fury, Jamal swung, vowing to hit anything on the other end of his fist. His fist found his father’s rock-hard jaw, but even his jaw nearly shattered upon impact with Jamal’s fist. Otis fell back and landed on his butt next to his barbeque pit. Otis was on the ground rubbing his jaw, shocked from what had just happened.
All Jamal could think of was how his father had better not get up, because all of those years of his father beating him over the head with his male propaganda had boiled over.
“You’ve lost your mind!” Otis jumped up and ran and tackled Jamal.
The wind got knocked out of Jamal as he wrestled to get distance between himself and his father. Several of his father’s friends managed to separate Jamal and his father.
“Get out my house!” Otis said while being restrained.
“Gladly! Let me give you what you deserve. Because all you’ve ever done is hurt the people closest to you. You ain’t no man, you’re a fifty-year-old boy!”
“Daddy!”
Jamal turned around and saw Jamir with tears in his eyes. He became aware that his actions were reprehensible for his son to witness. He still had difficulties seeing Jamir as anyone other than his son.
“He ain’t your daddy. Your mother was running around loose,” Otis yelled.
“Shut up!” both Jamal and Chantel said.
Jamal and Otis had calmed down enough for Otis to grant them safe passage out of his home. But the damage was done, and though Jamir was too young to understand, his ex-grand-father had just exposed him to the truth.
Chapter Twenty-nine
It was a typical Sunday after the Retreat. Quincy felt like the moment was on borrowed time. In his black and gold T-shirt, he sat at the dinner table as Karen cooked him a good meal. The salmon had been marinated and grilled. Karen looked really good, and he knew that she was going to put on a full-court press to win him back.
“You know, I used to love whenever you came home from the Retreat. You always had a glow and a swagger,” Karen complimented him.
“I always have swagger, ever since I first saw Sammy Davis Jr. perform,” Quincy said.
“Yeah, but the swagger God gives not even Sammy can match.”
He did not want to ruin the meal Karen had offered to cook him after church, but he did not feel the need to delay in getting to the real reason he’d accepted Karen’s offer.
“I found out that it was Minister Jacobs,” Quincy said.
Karen put her head down in shame. “So that’s it?”
“Karen, I forgive you for what you’ve done. I wasn’t the best husband. But I cannot lie and say I’ve forgotten or I’m ready to move on.”
“I’m sorry. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to work this out,” Karen said with sincerity.
“I don’t know that we can. All I know is that when I see you, I see your betrayal. But I haven’t been a saint, either. I went to Vegas and had an affair.”
Quincy could not believe that Karen had the nerve to be upset over his admission to an affair.
“Who was she?” Karen’s voice was feeble.
“Don’t even try it. Don’t even try to put me in the same category as you. I had sex with an escort. That’s nothing more than high-priced masturbation. You actually formed a relationship with someone outside of your marriage. There’s a difference.”
“I’m willing to forgive you; why can’t you be willing to forgive me?”
It seemed so simple. We both cheated, so why don’t we just start fresh and move on? But this was not something that Quincy could just overlook. He had been humiliated in front of other men at a Retreat. His pride had been destroyed; Quincy could not overlook this infraction. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m going through with the divorce.”
“What? But what about this weekend?”
“This weekend only showed me the truth. The truth is that you always came second to my business and I always came second to your ministers. I’m sorry for calling you a whore and for how I’ve treated you over the past week. You don’t deserve that, but I’m too hurt to move on.”
Quincy got up and pushed his plate away. He then made his way toward the door.
“He had a vision,” Karen yelled.
Her statement stopped Quincy dead in his tracks. He turned to see a mixture of pain and anger on Karen’s tearful face.
“Minister Jacobs had a vision that God was going to allow his testimony to change young men’s lives. You built your vision without me even being in it. You just wanted me to show up to the appointed places at the appointed times to show me off, but I’ve never fit into your world.”
Maybe Karen was right. Quincy had developed tunnel vision, and during most of their marriage he’d run on autopilot. That still did not give her a reason to go down to a man of God to get a vision to stand behind.
“You were a part of my vision. I wanted to lay everything at your feet and I was willing to do it for as long as you would remain faithful to me.”
Quincy lost his stomach for combat. He now had a face of his wife’s lover. Between him imagining the minister preaching against sin, and then turning around and sexing Karen up, at that moment Quincy couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her. Neither could Karen, because she got up and walked out of the room. There was no attempt to go after Karen and bring her back. No romantic moment, just a husband who had submitted to the fact that his marriage was broken without prayer.
Chapter Thirty
Chauncey did not stay for service on Sunday. He dropped Will off at the church and made his way toward the hospital. His sister had left frantic messages for him to call or come to the hospital. Chauncey did not bother returning the messages. He knew why she was calling, and he preferred to see what’s going on rather than hear.
He arrived at the hospital with grayish-purple clouds hovering above. While standing outside of the hospital, Chauncey came to the revelation that he was, in fact, a coward. None of the events of this weekend had developed his ability to face difficult circumstances. He cowered at the thought that as long as he did not enter the hospital, he did not have to face the truth.
Chauncey began to walk toward the hospital tower, and it seemed that his shoes were made of concrete the way that they dragged along. Through the double sliding doors and past the doctors, RNs, and patients, Chauncey entered the elevator. As the elevator went up, his stomach went down. His arrival to the tenth floor brought him face-to-face with his brother lying as still as death on his hospital bed.
“Henry,” Chauncey said, as if his words could bring his brother back.
Henry did not look dead, merely asleep. Chauncey touched Henry’s forehead. It was cold, but that could have been a result of the room temperature. But Chauncey knew better. All the arguments in the world seemed miniscule compared to this moment. His baby brother was no longer alive.
Henry had died Saturday night, but his deepest fear was not fulfilled. He did not die alone. His sister had been there for him, but his brother was hours away. Pastor Dawkins had been right: this was not a feeling he would want. All of his resentment toward his brother was shallow. Chauncey wanted nothing more than to see his brother alive again.
The tears his sister must have cried had dried, and rage took its rightful place on her face. “You selfish son of a…” Her words trailed off, engulfed by emotions.
“Nicole, please.” Chauncey put his hand up in submission.
Nicole stood up from the corner of the room, walked toward Ch
auncey, and stopped to size him up. “I spent all Saturday watching our brother slowly pass away and watching the door. I was hoping that my big brother would walk in with his large Bible and spend the evening praying for his brother.” Nicole fought back the tears. “But I see now that you can’t even be counted on with something as crucial as this.”
Chauncey’s mental bank was empty of any words. There was not a word in his lexicon that could justify his actions. If he did not know any better, Chauncey would have sworn that God had blocked him from producing any explanation.
“I’m sorry. I had to do God’s—”
Nicole completed Chauncey’s statement with a slap, and walked out while wiping her eyes.
Chauncey sat in the waiting room and cried like a baby until the nurse came in and brought Henry’s belongings. He searched through the St. Mary’s hospital bag and found pictures of when he and Henry were in Little League together. He also saw pictures of him and his family during Christmas time. Christmas had not been the same without the entire family being there; and it would never be the same again.
To his astonishment, Chauncey found a burgundy leather-bound Bible in Henry’s bag. He thumbed through the Bible only to find certain passages highlighted. Some of them were passages that Chauncey used to quote. In the middle of the Bible was a letter, and ironically it was found right where Jesus talks about setting things right with your brother.
Dear Brother,
I know I made a mess of things when I was alive, and in the end, I had no one else to blame but myself. I just hope that you can find a way in your heart to forgive me. Our burdens get heavier the longer we hold on to them, and you’re too much of a good person to be weighed down. Mom, Dad, and I will be waiting for you on the other side. I love you, brother.
Love,
Henry
Chauncey placed the letter to his face. What little that remained of his brother’s legacy lay in this letter.
The measure of a man is in the lives that he touched. Despite the friction between Chauncey and his baby brother, not even Chauncey would have wanted his brother to have such a poor send-off. There was not even a police escort for the drive to the cemetery. Chauncey and Nicole were the only ones who attended Henry’s funeral.
Henry had betrayed so many people in his life, that, in the end, no one could honestly stand to even be in the same room as his corpse. Tears overwhelmed Chauncey as he saw the wooden casket lowered into the ground. Neither he nor Nicole could sing, so he imagined someone singing “Amazing Grace.”
“We’re all that we have, big brother,” Nicole said.
“I wasted time,” Chauncey replied.
“You’re only human, and I know that, deep down, you just wanted the family to stay together.”
“Why doesn’t it feel that way?” Chauncey asked.
“It’ll take time. But one thing I know for sure is that no matter what, we are going to stick together.” Nicole hugged Chauncey.
Nicole was right: they were all they had. Chauncey embraced her and knew that his convictions did not have to stand in his way of loving his family.
“I didn’t get into the minister’s class,” Chauncey replied.
“Bighead, have you ever thought that maybe you weren’t meant to be a minister?”
That thought had never crossed Chauncey’s mind. He had known that he was meant to be a preacher from the moment he got saved. He’d had so many people prophesy and speak into him, that he knew it was only a matter of time before he became a minister.
“Just because you’re saved don’t mean you have to be a preacher. The man that sits in the pew can be just as effective as the man who stands in the pulpit.”
All of Chauncey’s efforts had been in vain. He’d strived to obtain something that only God could give, and missed one thing that mattered most in his life: being there for his family.
Chapter Thirty-one
“This is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you,” Quincy said as he slammed down the domino, causing the table to shake as a result of his voracity.
Will shook his head. Quincy had been scoring points on the regular thanks to Chauncey.
“Lock him up, C!” Will said.
“I don’t know how to read the board,” Chauncey snapped back.
“That’s a darn shame,” Jamal said as he slammed down his domino.
Will took a moment to survey the condominium. Will dreamed of having an apartment like this: eggshell white carpet; Baltic ceiling with a winding staircase. Quincy’s condo even had a piano in it. More importantly, Quincy had a balcony with a view of downtown Long Beach.
“This is a nice little spot you have here,” Will said as he played his domino.
“Yeah, I’ve been staying here for the last four months until I find a more permanent place. I might have to re-sign for another six-month lease since it’s hard to find a place in this recession.”
“You haven’t talked to Karen?” Jamal asked.
“Nope!” Quincy slammed down another domino and disrupted the T-pattern of dominoes.
“I still can’t believe you went through with the divorce. God is not for divorce,” Chauncey said.
“It’s time I started being more concerned with what I want and less with what God wants. If God didn’t want me to divorce my wife, He shouldn’t have let one of his ministers sleep with her,” Quincy said.
Quincy’s entire situation reinforced why Will was cool on marriage and females all together. Quincy had everything a female could possibly want: money, homes, cars, and a flair for the finer things. Why would his wife cheat?
In the hood, Will always heard how men were dogs and how they thought with the wrong head. Will knew that was a lie. Today’s female was just as capable of treachery as a man was. Will blamed this on a warped sense of women’s empowerment. These women saw Michelle Obama, Oprah, and Tyra Banks, and thought that if they could thrive in a man’s world, then why couldn’t they themselves? Of course, Will’s train of thought was disrupted by the fact that Chauncey still had not played another domino.
“C, you need to focus on what you’re doing. You’re the slowest domino player in the world.” Will turned his attention back to the game. “I feel you though, Q, you don’t need a girl like that!”
“Do you really think that Karen was out to hurt you?” Chauncey asked as he played a domino.
“No, I know she made a mistake. I just don’t think I can get over it,” Quincy replied.
“You can do all things through Christ Jesus,” Will said, and when he looked up, he had everyone’s attention. “What? I do read my Bible. I’m trying to better myself; it’s just that when I get home, it’s a war zone. I mean, the devil really be on me and my family.”
“How’s barber college working out?” Quincy asked.
“Great. I got an interview with Platinum Cuts this week. It’s hard, because since my father’s been locked up, I’ve always been the one to go out and get money. Now that I’m saved, I haven’t been hustling and my family has been struggling.”
Will knew that he had come to both love and admire these men. Four months ago, he would not have disclosed with men so much of his deep, personal turmoil. Of course, four months ago he was a high school dropout. Now he had just gotten a GED and was ready to conquer his dream. But for four months he had been ducking and dogging D-Loc and his gang. He spent most of his nights with Jamal. That made it even harder for D-Loc to catch up with him.
“Will, you got to stay the course. Your blessing is on the other side, just hold on,” Jamal said.
“I know, that’s why I’m nervous about this interview,” Will said.
“Just remember, God does not give you the spirit of fear or timidity, but of love and of power and a sound mind,” Chauncey added.
“What are you wearing to the interview?” Quincy asked.
Will found Quincy’s question to be peculiar; this entire time Will had been thinking about what he was going to say and not about what he was
going to wear.
“I don’t know. I got a polo shirt and some khakis. I guess I’ll wear that.” Will shrugged. He continued to play, but he noticed that Quincy started to stare at him in a way that made Will uncomfortable.
“What size are you?” Quincy asked Will.
“I’m about an extra large in T-shirts and about a thirty-two to thirty-four in pants.”
“Come with me.” Quincy put down his dominoes, got up, and walked toward the back of the condo.
Will followed him, not sure where they were going. He walked along the condo and observed unique African paintings of tribesmen and women. They entered Quincy’s massive walk-in closet, and that’s when Quincy officially became Will’s hero. This closet looked more like the men’s suits section at Macy’s. He had suits of every different color, from navy blue to buttercream to jet-black with pinstripes. He had an entire section of shoes still in their boxes. Quincy even had a leather seat in front of a display table filled with ties.
“Wow, you got yourself some clean suits, fam,” Will said.
“Monday through Friday, my dad used to be covered in dirt from his job in construction. But when Sunday came, he would step out in the finest suits. I vowed that when I got older, I would dress this good every day.” Quincy pulled a silver-gray suit from the rack and walked over to Will. “Try this on.” Quincy took the jacket off the hanger and handed it over to Will, who walked over to the mirror in the back of the closet and put the jacket on.
The material was as smooth as silk. Will felt like and looked like a new man.
“You look good, we can have it tailored.” Quincy said with a smile.
“Thanks.” Will was not used to receiving compliments from another man.
“It’s all about dressing for where you’re going and not for where you’ve been. You’ve been through the gutter, but now you’re heading for higher ground and you have to be ready for where God takes you.”
Will knew his friend was hurt and upset with God, but the fact that he could still acknowledge God gave Will hope. He wished he knew enough about the Bible to help his friend, but if Jamal and Chauncey could not offer any comforting words and they were Bible scholars, then maybe Quincy’s situation was beyond everybody’s understanding.
