Me, Myself and Him

by E. N. Joy

  As the sanctuary clapped and praised God, Mary walked Locksie back to her seat and then whispered, “Your new walk with Christ isn’t going to be easy. You’ve just pissed Satan off. But stay in God’s Word and pray the devil under your feet. In Jesus’ name he has to obey you.” Mary kissed Locksie on the check. “I’ll talk to you after church.” She went and sat with the other three dancers while the benediction was given and church was dismissed.

  Locksie sat in her seat while she watched Mary try to make her way through the people stopping to tell her what a wonderful job she and the other dancers had done setting the atmosphere with their praise dance.

  “All glory be to God,” Mary would say.

  As Locksie waited, the churchgoers just brushed by her, anxious to get home and take their chickens out of the oven or be the first in line at the Country Buffet. She felt weird and out of place as she waited for her aunt. She had just gotten saved. Didn’t that make her one of the saints too, now? Still, no one seemed eager to welcome her into the Christian family. After a few more moments of awkwardness, Locksie decided to go wait in her car. Noticing Locksie’s exit, Mary hurried out, still in her dance garments, and met up with Locksie at her car.

  “I know you weren’t going to leave here without saying good-bye,” Mary scolded as she ran up behind Locksie.

  “Oh, no, Auntie,” Locksie said as she turned around, right before opening her car door. “I was just going to wait in the car for you.”

  Mary held Locksie by her shoulders and just stared at her and smiled. “Oh, Locksie, you don’t know what it does to my heart to know that you are saved.”

  “Aunt Mary, I’ve never felt this way in my life. I can’t even explain it. I don’t even feel the same anymore.”

  “And you’re not supposed to. You are renewed. The blood of Jesus has washed away your sins and you’ve accepted it. You have died to the things of the world. The old you is gone. Just keep believing it, baby.” Mary pulled Locksie against her for a tight embrace.

  “And you, Miss Thing,” Locksie said, pulling away and nudging Mary. “Why didn’t you tell me you were doing praise dancing? You were awesome.”

  “All glory be to God,” she replied. “That’s where I’ve been heading out to during my favorite show.” She winked. “One Sunday, actually, a couple months ago, I had a breakthrough and it was in the form of dance. The praise and worship team was singing ‘Praise is What I Do.’ I was deep in worship, and the next thing I knew, I was on my feet and the Holy Spirit was guiding my steps. I had no idea it was my calling, but when He called me, I had to answer with a ‘yes.’ ”

  “I hear you.” Locksie smiled.

  “A few of us are headed out to eat.” Mary turned around and pointed to a group of folks chatting. “Would you like to join us? Get to know some of the church members?”

  Locksie looked at some of the people her aunt was pointing to. One was the usher, who didn’t seem too friendly, and another was one of the people in the pew who wouldn’t move out of her way when she was trying to sit down. For some reason, they just didn’t seem like people she would enjoy dining with.

  “I’ll pass,” Locksie said. “Dawson and I are supposed to be going to Best Buy to get a movie and grab some take-out. I don’t want to be too late getting home.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll see you in the morning then,” Mary said, kissing her now-saved niece on the cheek and walking away.

  “Bye, Auntie,” Locksie said before climbing into her car and starting the engine. All of a sudden, the joyful smile Locksie was wearing just seconds ago faded. “Dawson.” His name rolled off of her lips as if it was just dawning on her how, if she was going to start a walk with the Lord, there was no way she could walk in the world with him . . . or could she?

  Chapter 23

  “So how did church go?” Dawson asked as he and Locksie perused the DVD aisle of Best Buy. Dawson preferred to purchase DVDs instead of renting them. He figured by the time he finished paying all the late fees when he forgot to return them, he could have owned them in the first place.

  For some reason, Locksie had been avoiding discussing church ever since she had gotten home. How was she supposed to tell her boyfriend that she had gone off to church and fallen in love with another man . . . Jesus?

  “It was, uh, okay. It was good,” Locksie replied after he asked her yet again.

  “Did you catch the Holy Ghost?” Dawson joked as he held his arms up over Locksie as if he were a ghost hovering over her.

  At first she just let out a little chuckle, but then she cleared her throat and said, “Uh, actually I did.”

  “Girl, you crazy.” he laughed it off.

  Once again, Locksie chuckled, but then said, “Seriously, I, uh, I did. I got saved today.”

  “Saved? You mean you let the preacher man splash you with some water? Put a little holy oil on ya,” Dawson nudged her playfully, but as she stood stiff in her position, staring up at him, he could tell she was serious.

  “Splashed with water? I got saved, not baptized.” She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “I gave my life to the Lord.”

  “Oh,” is all Dawson could manage to say. What was he supposed to say? Congratulations?

  Locksie observed the blank look on his face as he fingered some DVD cases. “You okay with that?”

  “Yeah, I mean, sure. Why not? I ain’t got no problem with you giving your life to the Lord.” He turned and kissed Locksie on the forehead. “As long as you still give your body to me.” He winked and continued perusing the aisle with Locksie lagging behind him.

  This was going to be harder than Locksie thought.

  “How about this one?” Dawson held up the movie Smokin’ Aces.

  After reading the cover, Locksie turned up her nose. “Nah, I don’t want to sit and watch a movie with nothing but cussin’ and violence in it.”

  “You’re kidding, right? That’s coming from the girl who not too long ago sat and laughed her tail off at the movie Harlem Nights with Eddie Murphy, Red Foxx, Richard Pryor, and Della Reese; the most filthy mouths in movie history ever.”

  “That was then, this is now,” Locksie reasoned. “Look, how about this one?” She held up Pink Panther with Beyoncé and Steve Martin.

  “Girl, you trippin’. Put that back and let’s get this one and go.” Dawson took the DVD out of his girlfriend’s hands, put it back on the shelf and headed toward the counter with Smokin’ Aces in hand. “I’m sure you ain’t gon’ go to hell just for watching an R-rated movie.”

  Locksie thought that perhaps Dawson was right. It was just a movie. Besides, God didn’t expect her to change everything and be perfect overnight, did He? On that thought. Locksie joined Dawson in line as they purchased the DVD.

  After leaving Best Buy, Locksie and Dawson stopped and picked up something to eat and then headed home to enjoy their flick.

  “Man, this movie is wild,” Dawson exclaimed as he licked the garlic sauce from the chicken off his fingers.

  He was enjoying the movie far more than Locksie. For some reason, she felt as though she should have been watching Passion of the Christ or something. Now that she was saved, she just didn’t feel as though she should do some of the things she used to do, watch some of the movies she used to watch, say some of the things she used to say. She just felt different—new. Now if she could only convince the old her that it had been replaced, and even then, she could only hope that it would pack up and leave willingly.

  “You all right in there?” Dawson asked from the other side of the bathroom door. “You’ve been in the bathroom all night.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Locksie answered nervously, startled by Dawson’s pounding. She had been sitting on the toilet the last half hour. She wasn’t using the bathroom; just sitting on the toiled lid, hoping that if she stayed in the bathroom long enough, Dawson would fall off to sleep and she wouldn’t have to worry about him trying to get sex from her. If the rated R movie hadn’t reserved her a seat in hell, t
he act of fornication would definitely get her in the VIP section.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I just don’t think the chicken agreed with me is all.”

  “Aw, come on out here, baby, and let me rub your belly.”

  Great! My plan backfired. Now he wants to rub on me. “Just a minute, honey.”

  “All right. I’ll go downstairs and see if we have any sick pop,” Dawson said, referring to ginger ale.

  Locksie gave Dawson a half-hearted, “Thank you.”

  She flushed the toilet and ran some water as if she was washing her hands. She then climbed into the bed. Dawson returned with a glass of ginger ale in hand. He climbed into the bed next to her and handed it to her.

  Locksie faked a moan and then took a sip of the pop before setting the glass down on her night stand.

  “Feel better?” Dawson asked.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  The room was lit only by the glow from the television that was turned down near mute, which was how the two always fell off to sleep.

  “I know how to make you feel better.” Dawson grabbed the remote and turned the television off so that they were now in complete darkness with the exception of the moonlight slipping in through the curtain cracks. The last thing on Dawson’s mind was falling off to sleep.

  Locksie laid stiff on her side as she felt Dawson’s hand crawl up her leg. She had deliberately worn her cotton two-piece pajama set that she normally wore when it was that time of the month, instead of the cute little nightgowns she preferred to wear. She was hoping her choice in wardrobe would send up a red flag to her horny toad of a boyfriend, but it did no such a thing.

  “You feel so soft,” Dawson moaned in her ear. His lips against her lobe sent chills up her spine. The next thing she knew, his hand was in a warm place. A moan of her own escaped her lips, and it wasn’t a fake one this time.

  “Dawson,” she whimpered as her eyes closed.

  He continued to caress her. “God, you feel so good.”

  Suddenly, Locksie’s eyes snapped open. She thought about God and how she had forgotten all about Him just that quickly. Earlier she had said “yes” to God and now she was saying “yes” to sin. That couldn’t be right.

  Before Locksie realized it, she had pushed Dawson away from her and sat up in the bed. “Dawson, I . . . I . . . I can’t.”

  He looked her up and down. “Oh, snap. The pajamas. It’s that time of the month?”

  Locksie could have easily played along with it and pretended to be on her period. That would have given her at least five to seven more days. But she knew it wouldn’t get any easier, so she decided to just get it over with.

  “No, I’m not on my period.” Locksie sighed, looking away from Dawson.

  “What is it then? Oh, wait, let me guess. You’re saved now?” Dawson spit venom with his words.

  She tried to think of words to calm Dawson and make this transition more comfortable for him, but then she realized that this wasn’t about him. “Yes, it’s because I’m saved,” Locksie said proudly, laced with a little bit of authority. “I’d think you’d be happy for me, not angry at me.”

  “I am happy for you. You want to change for the better. That’s cool, but where does that leave me? Where does that leave us?”

  Locksie was speechless. She hadn’t included Dawson in the equation when she made the journey down to the altar to get saved. All she could think about was living for God.

  “Well, I tell you where that leaves me tonight—on the couch!” Dawson got out of the bed and angrily snatched the top cover, grabbed a pillow and then stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Locksie’s eyes watered because not only did she feel as though Dawson had slammed the door closed on her, but it felt as if he was slamming his heart closed on her as well.

  This was too hard for Locksie, this being saved stuff and changing her life. Instructions should have come along with being saved, Locksie thought as she caught the first tear that dropped down her face. Then she realized that there were instructions. She hurriedly turned on the lamp on her nightstand and then pulled open the nightstand drawer.

  It was there, just where she had last seen it. Locksie pulled out the Kings James version of the Bible her mother had given her when she had sent her off to college. She had never even opened it—not once.

  After fluffing up her pillow and crawling under the sheets, Locksie sat with the closed Bible in her lap.

  “Where should I even start?” she asked herself. She opened it up to the book of Genesis, chapter one, figuring she might as well start at the beginning.

  For I already know your ending, God spoke.

  “Ten more, nine more, eight more, seven more . . .”

  Drake watched from the piece of exercise equipment he had been working on as his brother huffed and puffed, pushing himself to extremes. “Dude, don’t overdo it.”

  “Three, two, one . . . ahhhhhh!” Dawson screamed as his overexerted biceps roared with pain after pushing that last set of presses.

  “Killing yourself trying to tone up your body ain’t gonna get you laid,” Drake just came out and said. “If anything, you’re going to strain yourself and it’s not going to work anyhow.”

  “Is that all you got to say? Oh, wait a minute. I almost forgot—you’re saved too. That means you’re on Locksie’s side. Guess I won’t bump into either one of you in hell.” Drake ignored his brother’s sarcasm. “So, I’m right. You don’t have nothin’ to say?”

  “Dawson, it’s not like I don’t have anything to say. It’s just that it’s difficult to try to explain the war to someone who hasn’t even fought in a battle. Walking with Christ is a journey that unless you are involved in that same journey yourself, you can’t possibly understand it.”

  “But dig, li’l bro. I think she’s taking it a step too far, like hearing voices or something, because one minute she was all into it—you know, moaning and carrying on—and then out of nowhere she just jumps up talking about ‘No, I can’t. Stop it.’ Man, that’s crazy.”

  “It’s crazy to you, but what is happening is that the Holy Spirit is convicting her for even thinking about committing sin. So, in a sense, she is hearing a voice; the voice of God.”

  Dawson just sat there shaking his head. “I can’t believe she ran off and got saved. She didn’t even ask me or take my feelings about this into consideration. I mean, if I wanted a church girl, I would have gone out and got one.”

  “It’s not about you, bro. It’s about—”

  “Look, man, it’s almost time for my ten o’clock,” Dawson said to Drake as he got up from the bench press. He wasn’t trying to pick up what Dawson was about to put down. “I’m funky as I don’t know what. She’s liable to fire me for offending her with such an odor.”

  “All right then, man. I’ma go home and shower up before I go into the office.” Drake gave his brother some dap and then pulled him in for a quick hug. “P-U. You right.” He waved his hand in front of his turned-up nose. “You do need to shower.”

  “Oh, and believe you me when I say I’m going to take one. A cold one.”

  It was ten o’clock A.M. on the nose when Dawson exited the men’s locker room, and just like clockwork, his client was walking through the gym door.

  “Dawson, my own personal body sculptor, don’t go easy on me,” his client greeted him. “I think I gained a pound or two over the weekend.” She patted her flat tummy after removing the jacket to her sweatsuit.

  Dawson had never noticed before just how sculptured his client’s body was becoming. Her firm breasts, small waist and tight buttocks were near perfect. For lack of more diplomatic words, she was looking darn sexy to Dawson. Before now, Dawson couldn’t recall if he had ever thought that any of his clients were sexy. He always looked at them as the product of his craft . . . the same way a writer would look at their finished book—a masterpiece. But not once had he ever looked at one of his clients sexually. But then ag
ain, before now he never had a reason. Looks like a lot of things were about to change due to Locksie being saved. But Dawson’s sex drive wasn’t one of them.

  “You ready to get started?” Dawson asked, clearing his throat in the embarrassment of his client catching him stare at her figure.

  She smiled at the unspoken compliment. “Ready? Humph . . . I thought you’d never ask.”

  “Well then, Peni, let’s get warmed up.” Dawson turned and headed for the indoor track.

  Warm? Peni thought as she followed behind Dawson, gazing down at his rear end. Feels to me like it’s already hot in here!

  Peni had been utilizing Dawson’s services faithfully for three months now. From the moment she laid eyes on him, she thought he was the hottest man she had ever met since Elkan, but Dawson had never even given her a second look. He had never even attempted to flirt with her by throwing out sexual innuendoes like some men tried to do. For a minute there she thought he might even be gay, or a down-low brother at the very least, but after catching him nearly drool over her—and that knot in his pants he tried to hide by quickly turning away—she knew the real workout was just about to begin.

  Oh yeah, Peni thought, licking her lips. We’ll burn a few calories your way for now. But I got a much better idea on how to burn off some of these calories of mine.

  Chapter 24

  Locksie could hardly sleep on Saturday nights anymore. For the last three Saturdays, she had tossed and turned like an anxious kid on Christmas Eve. Going to church every Sunday morning was now the highlight of her week. She had been doing everything she could to set the schedule so that she was off on Sundays or could trade days with another stylist. She woke up every Sunday morning with an expectation. And she knew exactly just what to expect—something from God.

  Locksie had to admit, the fellow saints of the church weren’t the nicest bunch, but she figured once they got used to seeing her attend regularly, they’d warm up to her. She could only hope. But in the meantime, she was hungry for the Word that the pastor, who was a wonderful man of God, preached every Sunday.