by Dijorn Moss
Quincy went around to the tie rack in front of the suit rack and pulled off a tie that matched the suit. He held the tie up to Will’s jacket. “You know how to tie a tie?”
“No,” Will said. He felt sort of ashamed, because he’d always looked at ties as a sign that a man was soft, but since meeting Quincy, he knew he was wrong.
“Every man has to learn how to tie a tie. That’s part of his passage from boyhood to manhood,” Quincy said.
“I never saw it as important. I mean, there are no occasions other than funerals that call for me to wear a tie. And I stopped going to funerals a long time ago because I saw them as bad luck. One minute you attend a funeral, next minute, folks are attending yours.”
“Well, now you’re preparing for your career. Here, let me show you.” Quincy tossed the tie over Will’s neck. He lined the tie up and started to overlap one end with the other until he formed a knot that resembled a tie.
“Now, when you’re in the interview tomorrow, try to make it more of a conversation than an interview. Get the person to talk about why he’s with the company. The entire point is to get him to see you as an employee already. Tell him what you bring to the company. It may be a barbershop, but it’s still a business.”
Will was overwhelmed by all the kindness Quincy was showing him. Even though his life wasn’t turning out the way he’d expected it to, the man was still taking his time to make sure that Will’s did.
“Q, I can’t thank you enough for all you’re doing. I’m not used to people showing me love like this.”
“I want you to succeed, and I believe you have what it takes. You just have to be in an environment that can help you.”
Will knew that what Quincy was saying was true. He was closing in on leaving his past behind him. He had become a Christian, he had gone to school, and yet everything he had worked hard for over the last four months was still in danger of being lost on account of his environment. Will did not know if it was God or the pull his father had, but Will was glad to be free. Will stopped hanging around his old spots and only went home when his instincts told him to. He focused on getting his GED. He focused on going to church and he focused on getting his barber’s license. That plan had worked for a while, but you can’t hide in Long Beach for too long without someone spotting you.
“Listen, Will, I know that you got a tough situation at home, and if you want, I got an extra bedroom. You can stay with me until you get your feet squared.”
“Man, I can’t stay here,” Will said, declining the offer.
“I’m barely here, I’m usually working. You can stay until you get a place of your own.”
“I can’t thank you enough,” Will said.
“Don’t thank me. I see you as an investment, but the deal is for you only,” Quincy said.
Will knew not to expect Quincy to extend the offer to the entire family, but if Will could at least get his brother out of the house, then Will would have peace of mind.
“I appreciate that, man. I mean, seeing you and everything that you’re doing is inspiring.”
“It takes hard work to have success and to maintain the success.”
“Yeah, it’s like what Billy Dee said in that movie Mahogany; success is nothing without someone you love to share it with.” Will let out a smirk, thinking that Quincy would appreciate him being able to quote a Black classic like Mahogany. Instead, Will found a stunned look on his friend’s face. It was like he was mulling over what Will had just said, and a light switch had gone on.
“You’re absolutely right, Will,” Quincy finally said.
God evidently had a plan for Will in spite of his mistakes, and if Will accomplished nothing else with his life, he was determined to try to understand why God loved him so much.
Broken glass crushed underneath Will’s black-and-white tennis shoes. He pulled up his black jeans as he walked along Atlantic Avenue. He walked the route home that took him past a storefront church called Zion Temple. He also passed by a Nubian Beauty Salon.
Will entered a beige apartment complex that faced the end of the street and sat next to a liquor store. Upon entering the apartment, Will was greeted by a putrid smell of spoiled milk. Dirty clothes covered the maroon carpet as SpongeBob SquarePants played on the TV.
His mother sat in a green recliner, motionless, with her eyes open, barely alert. His little sister crawled around as she reached for her pacifier on the floor. Will removed it from her hands before she could put it in her mouth. He picked her up and put her in the crib next to the TV.
Will looked in the refrigerator to find only a box of cereal, baking soda, and a little bit of fruit punch.
“Can you cut my hair?” his brother, Joshua, asked as he turned around to show the condition of his head.
Will closed the refrigerator door and pointed toward the chair next to the dining room table.
“What happened to the money I gave you yesterday?” Will called out to his mother. He was concerned that he had given her sixty dollars and did not see any evidence of his money today. It had been foolish of him to think that a dopefiend would miss an opportunity to get high.
“Where you been?” his mother asked.
“I’ve been out with friends from church. I got a nice little spot in downtown Long Beach.”
“You ain’t got no spot in Long Beach. I don’t know why you even lying.”
Little Elisha started crying, and Will knew that it had to do with her probably needing to be changed or needing some food or just needing some love. Her screams were interrupting his mother from watching her court shows.
“Stop crying, stupid!” His mother reached to smack his sister, and Will rushed over to grab her hand.
“You don’t have to hit her every time she cries. She’s a baby! She don’t know how to ask for something, so she cries when she don’t get what she needs.”
“Don’t tell me how to raise my child. I’ve been doing this long before you were even thought of. Who you think raised you? She’s just spoiled, that’s all.”
“How can she be spoiled when we’re broke? We don’t have nothing because you’re always smoking it up.”
Will was sick of the abuse and the manipulation. Both entities had run rampant in his life, and now he no longer wanted to tolerate it.
“I want to take my brother with me,” Will said, to the delight of his brother.
“He ain’t going nowhere,” his mother snarled.
“All he’s going to do is get himself killed. Let me give him a chance to have a normal life,” Will pleaded.
“You can go wherever you want. You’ve already abandoned your family when you started hanging around those church folks. But your brother is going to stay right here.”
Will knew he was fighting a useless battle, but he was determined to not give up.
“I’ll come for you when I get situated. Just stay strong until then,” Will whispered in his brother’s ear.
A knock on the screen door sank Will’s heart. D-Loc was known for his three knocks. That was his way of making his presence known. Will was amazed at how well he’d dodged his gang for the last several months, but now he was caught.
“What up, playboy,” Will said as he opened the door.
“What’s up with you?” D-Loc did not wait for permission. He opened the screen door and walked in. D-Loc gave Will a fist pound. He then turned to Will’s mother. “How you doing, Mrs. Tate?”
Will’s mom responded with a slight nod. This was the first time Will had seen D-Loc since the Retreat. Will had been up front with his decision to give his life over to the Lord, and while everyone disagreed, they had decided to back off of Will, figuring it would be a matter of time before he returned to the streets. But Will knew that too much time had passed and D-Loc’s visit was prompted by his need for Will to put in work.
“Can I holler at you a minute?” D-Loc pointed toward outside.
“Sure.” Will walked out and closed the screen door behind him.
&nbs
p; They lived on the second floor and there was a black metal guardrail in place to keep anyone from falling over. Will followed D-Loc downstairs, where four members of the Untouchables waited for him.
J-Rock was the same size as Will. His boy, Nonsense, had the same high-yellow complexion as the baseball bat that rested on his shoulders. Then there were the twins, Deshawn and Damian. They both were over six feet tall, and 200-plus pounds. It did not take a genius to know that these guys were not here just to talk.
“So what’s up, man, are you still with the whole God thing or what?” D-Loc asked.
“Yeah, man, I’m on a new path and I ain’t turning back for nothing,” Will said with conviction.
“So you’re just going to turn your back on your family like that?”
“Look, D-Loc, I appreciate everything that you tried to do for me and my family, but I’m out the game.”
“We tried to give you some time to get your mind right, but you not being here is messing with our money.” D-loc extended his fist. “We can’t just let you up and leave. You made a pledge to the set.”
At the time, it had not seemed like a strong pledge when Will pledged his life to the Untouchables. His life was not worth anything to him then, and either way he did not see himself living long, so why not make a lifelong pledge? This whole time he had been feeding off of the devil’s pie, going for seconds. He had given up his birthright for the sake of being able to say that he belonged to something.
“Man, I made a new pledge. I’m turning my life around, and if you can’t get down with that, then I don’t know what to tell you,” Will stated firmly.
Will had only one play to make and that was to threaten to go to his father. But at this moment not even his father could save him. Only God could deliver him from what was about to happen. Will would hold his ground on the scripture promise that God had not given him the spirit of fear and timidity.
“Well then, we got a problem, because the only way out of this is through death.” D-Loc opened up the left side of his brown leather coat and flashed his chrome glock. This was the same gun he used to rule the Untouchables with an Iron Fist. The stories associated with that gun made Will even more pensive.
Was this the end? Was Will allowed only a few months of peace before he was killed in broad daylight in front of his family? Oh well, at least Will would get a chance to be with his Lord, and if he was going to die for something, then it might as well be for his beliefs and convictions.
“If I wasn’t scared to die when I was out in this world playing tag with Satan, then what makes you think I’m scared now?” With those words, Will got into combat mode. With his fists balled and his body ready to absorb any impact of a bullet, Will waited.
D-Loc pulled out his gun and pulled back the handle. Will froze, and knew he’d missed the opportunity to snatch the gun away. D-Loc had been a god to him, and to challenge his former god was irrational. The sound of a honk spooked everyone involved, including D-Loc. Will looked over D-Loc’s shoulder to find a familiar Range Rover. God was still in the miracle business.
Quincy hopped out of the Range Rover, wearing the same polo shirt and slacks he’d had on earlier at his condo. Jamal hopped out of the passenger seat and proceeded to open the door behind him, where he pulled out a scared, timid Chauncey, who did not want to get out of the car. The three men made their way toward Will, with Chauncey keeping a safe distance.
“What up, Will? Just thought you might need help moving,” Quincy said.
“Good looking.” Of course, Will was referring to more than just the help with moving.
“Still up to the same thing, Devin?” Jamal asked D-Loc.
Will had never known D-Loc’s real name, nor had he even bothered to ask. He never thought that Jamal would know who D-Loc was, which was even more shocking.
“You know, I got to do what I got to do,” D-Loc replied.
“You and I both grew up in the same neighborhood and watched how gangs and drugs tore our community down. Now you’re here perpetuating it?”
Will had never seen D-Loc intimidated before. If he did not know any better, he would even go as far as to suggest that he was scared of Jamal.
“Look, Devin, I don’t know what the deal is with you and Will, but what I do know is that Will is trying to get his life together and I need you to let him do that.”
It was like Jamal slayed the tension in the air. Will thought he might make it out without any bloodshed.
“This ain’t over.” D-Loc signaled for his boys to come along with him and he left.
“J, I’m trying to figure out what just happened,” Will said.
“Man, I used to go to school with that dude back when his older brother was running things. We got into a fight once, and I mopped him up. He knows that I’m not scared of his gun and that I could knock him out long before he pulls the trigger. The last thing he wants is to get beat down in front of his crew again.”
D-Loc’s final words echoed throughout Will’s ears. Yes, he had been set free by God’s grace. Yes, he had just dodged a bullet, but D-Loc was not the type to forget. He would try to get payback and it was up to Will to figure out how.
But Will knew without a doubt, as long as he put his trust in God, that everything was going to be okay. He would not have to spend his days looking over his shoulder, because God had his back.
Chapter Thirty-two
Pastor Dawkins waited for Grace as she emerged from the Relaxation Spa looking more radiant than ever. Grace started to show up to church after the Men’s Retreat, and Pastor Dawkins decided to give her a chance to see if there was something more between them than just a spark. This marked their fourth date they had been on since the Retreat. He’d debated whether a trip to the spa was too much of a gift to give to someone he’d just started dating. Regardless, he just loved to see her smile, and wanted to do his part to keep one on her face.
“I got a Kahlúa pedicure and my feet smell like coffee,” Grace said.
The Kahlúa pedicure was to cap off a hydro-bath with rose petals, and a one-hour pebble massage. Pastor Dawkins would always preach to the men that if they wanted their wives to love them like no other, then they had to be willing to keep the romance in their marriage and not be cheap. Since he’d never had a wife, Pastor Dawkins wondered how his relationship advice went with the guys. It was easy to give advice when he was not even in a relationship.
“Thank you so much.” Grace gave Pastor Dawkins a big hug.
“The restaurant is in walking distance; I figured it’s a nice day for a stroll.”
Grace did not even wait for Pastor Dawkins to finish. She just started walking. He followed alongside her. He remembered that a gentleman walked along the outside of the curb to protect the woman he was with.
“The men still seem to be on fire in the church. I’m sure that you’re happy to see so much growth among men,” Grace commented.
“I realized that the strength of Greater Anointing lies in us getting the men together. If we can encourage men and make them feel good about being men, then they will become better fathers and husbands.”
Pastor Dawkins took a moment to admire the Pike. Despite all of the expansions of new businesses and shops, he could still see the place where he spent the summers of his youth, running along the pier and riding the Ferris wheel and other carnival rides. The Pike was evidence that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.
“I’m curious. All this time you spend thinking about everyone else, when do you find the time to do you?” Grace asked.
Pastor Dawkins laughed, because if he had a dollar for every time he was asked that question, he could buy the Staples Center and hold church. They both stopped at a light and waited for the crosswalk to give them permission to walk.
“I really don’t, but God has been so good to me that I can’t complain about my lot in life.”
They finally crossed the street and entered a cozy little Thai restaurant. Pastor Dawkins was pu
lling out all of the stops. He felt the desire to give her anything, like a parent gives to a spoiled child; except Pastor Dawkins did not believe that this gift from God would spoil. He knew that Grace would accept every gift with humility.
They sat next to the window and ordered their food. To pass the time, they played a game where they tried to guess what was going on in the lives of the strangers who passed by the restaurant. It was not long before their food arrived.
“You know, I remember one Bible Study when my former pastor talked about the purpose of a wife. He said that a wife was there to help God complete the work in her husband,” Grace said.
“I’m sure that roused up some of the independent women at your church,” Pastor Dawkins said.
Grace laughed as she wiped the food from her lips. “You know it did. Then he went on to say that it wasn’t about giving up who you are, but using the gifts to help your man be all that God desires him to be. In essence, a man cannot fulfill God’s will without a woman.” Grace concluded her statement with a snap of her fingers, as if she had just heard some good spoken word poetry.
“So are you saying I’m outside of God’s will?”
“I believe so, because God has a blessing staring you right in the face and I believe it’s time that you accept it.”
Pastor Dawkins was leveled by her beauty and her strength. She flirted between the lines of confidence and conceit. At this moment he would give her everything that she desired and pray to God for more. How could a pastor date a woman? How could he fall in love?
“You don’t have to be afraid around me. I’m not out to get you, and I’m not interested in the title of first lady. I just want to know the man behind the sermons, and if that’s too much, then I don’t know what we’re doing here.” Grace returned to eating her food.
