Rebelled, an Arelia LaRue Novel #7

by Kira Saito

  "What in the world are you doing here?" asked Lottie my head chef and co-manager. Her dark eyes were widened with dismay, and her lips were pursed in a disapproving manner. “You’re getting married this weekend! Girl, go on and get your beauty sleep and prep for the big day. We got this, right team?” She glanced around the kitchen rallying up the support of the staff.

  "I know, but I can put in a few more hours and still have plenty of time to get some rest." I was a bit of a control freak and figured that if I didn't overlook every single detail, the staff would somehow burn down the place in my absence.

  Lottie shook her head in disapproval. Her mass of dreads whipped back and forth ferociously. “No excuses. The future Mrs. Dreaux has to look her best for her big day…”

  “Guys turn on the news,” Jake said as he rushed into the kitchen bringing with him a gust of hot summer air.

  An uneasy feeling crawled up the back of my throat as I turned on the flat screen that hung in the kitchen. I flipped the channel to CNN knowing that this wasn’t going to be good. Lately, the violence in New Orleans had been getting worse and was reaching critical levels. Every day, there was a mass shooting or another. Racial violence and mistrust were so bad that it felt like that the city had regressed back to the pre-civil rights era. What disturbed me the most was that like cancer, the violence was spreading across America and the entire world.

  Over the last forty days, there had been at least five different terrorist attacks on five different continents. As comfortable as I was financially, there was an uneasy feeling in the core of my soul that something was off and that we as a nation were on the edge of something irreversible. On top of the intense violence, the weather had gone insane. This year alone, Louisiana had been hit by record-breaking hurricanes, floods and heat waves that had killed hundreds.

  I hated the fact that I couldn't explain how I felt or what in the world was going on. Grand-mere claimed that we were in the midst of a spiritual war of epic proportions, but I had brushed off her explanation as superstitious paranoia. Surely, if Bon Dieu did exist, He was fast asleep or perhaps even dead. He sure didn’t give a damn about what was happening down here.

  "Breaking news. We've got breaking the news that there has been another mass shooting in the Garden District this time at an all-black Baptist church." The blonde reporter widened her green eyes for dramatic effect and shook her head in disapproval before continuing. "The congregation was in the middle of worship when a lone wolf white shooter entered and shot down fifty members of the church. It is unconfirmed, but it appears that the shooter was getting revenge for a prior attack on three white police officers who were supposedly gunned down by the We Matter activist organization."

  I glanced around the kitchen and was devastated by the disheartened expressions of the staff. “Ms. LaRue, I gotta go. My momma is a member of that church,” Roy said as he ripped off his apron and tossed aside his hair net.

  I shook my head. “Yeah, I understand. Go,” I said, as I gave Roy an encouraging hug. My heart broke for him. He was way too young to lose a parent in such a tragic manner.

  The CNN reporter continued to speak. “Harris Matthews is live on location with more details of this devastating attack.”

  The scene flashed to an elderly balding reporter with a stern expression and handle-bar mustache. "Thank you, Christine. I am standing outside of the Garden District Baptist Church where this horrific mass shooting occurred. I have with me Ivan Beau, the leader of the We Matter activist organization and lead singer of the Broken-Hearted Blues Boys. Ivan, can you please tell us what the members of the black community have to say about this attack?"

  The camera shifted towards Ivan Beau, who with his dazzling blond hair and haunting gray eyes didn’t look as if he had a drop of black blood within him. He claimed that appearances were deceiving and that his family descended from a long line of slaves. I believed him because once he opened his mouth to sing, he had more rhythm and soul than any other singer I had ever heard.

  Ivan’s eyes were full of fire and anger as he looked at the reporter. “Our community will not take this attack lightly. How many more of our people have to suffer humiliation at the hands of those who think they are still our oppressors? The day they said we were free was nothing but an illusion. So many members of this community are still bound in illiteracy and poverty. Let me tell you why because it's nothing but a big old machine that makes money for the privileged elite. They hate to see us overcome and rise to power. All of the members of this church were and are respected business owners who contribute greatly to the economic health of this city, and I think that pisses a lot of people off. It pisses them off that people of color can afford houses in the Garden District, hold prominent political positions and afford to provide a decent living for their families. This attack was clearly not one of revenge but one of open hostility towards this community which is doing its best to move forward and overcome its horrific past."

  Harris Matthew’s squinty eyes shifted nervously as he tried to search for a response to Ivan’s statement. “But you can’t deny that the We Matter organization did, in fact, take responsibility for the brutal shootings of three white officers last month. They were good men doing their best to protect this city. That attack caused a lot of anger within the white community which means this could have been a simple case of revenge.”

  “As I’ve stated many times before, each organization has rogues, those who use terror as a means to get their message across. Those attacks were contradictory to the message of our organization, which is to resolve racial differences through peaceful protests.” Ivan’s voice was annoyed as if he was trying to explain the theory of Quantum physics, multiple universes and the possibility of ancient alien astronauts to a two-year-old.

  “Given its tactics, the members of your organization can be labeled as terrorists.”

  Ivan rolled his eyes in disgust. “Let’s not play fast and loose with that word. As the leader of We Matter, I do not condone violence and never have. I prefer to get my message across through music and education. I’m clean. I don’t have a criminal record, nor have I ever been arrested. The most controversial things about me are my drinking habits, womanizing ways and perhaps some of my lyrics that tend to piss off a person or two. If that makes me a hopeless sinner bound for the pit, then so be it but it doesn’t make me a terrorist.”

  "Some Americans are labeling your organization like the New Black Panthers. How do you feel about that?"

  He gave the camera a wink and a lazy smile. "Kids, don't drink the Kool-Aid. Eat your vegetables, take your vitamins and do your homework. These are the days of rage, and they have been a long time coming. You reap what you sow," he said cryptically. "America, the spirits of the past have returned, and they are here with a vengeance."

  The reporter's eyes narrowed further, and he scratched his bald head trying to make sense of Ivan's words. "Can you elaborate on what you mean?" he asked. "It seems that you've given us a double-ended answer."

  “Harris my brother, I’m only giving you the title of my next single that’s all.” He gave the reporter another wink and lit up a cigarette. He had the type of charisma and good looks that kept your eyes glued to the screen.

  Every time I heard Ivan speak a certain familiarity always overtook me. It was as if I knew him personally from another time or place. I knew it was ridiculous, so I chalked it up to being a fan of his music and seeing his angry face on television so often.

  “Preach it, brother!" A group of protestors had accumulated outside the church. It was a tragic sight filled with angry faces, weeping family members and bloody victims. Cars had been set ablaze and already throughout the city massive riots had started to take place. It was sheer confusion and chaos. Reports were coming out that a curfew would be imposed on the city, and there were also rumors of martial law being imposed as well, and certain suspected terrorists were being dragged off to FEMA camps and being questioned and some even tortured. I wasn't sure
if there was any truth to those rumors, but I knew that police in military gear were already patrolling the streets. These were scary times, and even I was unsure if Tony and I would have a chance at the future we had eagerly planned. Getting married at a time like this seemed so silly, but I had made a commitment, and I would stick to it.

  Chapter Eight

  Somewhere on the other side

  Angel Pulse United…

  “Change the channel, Arelia,” Lottie pleaded. “All of this is getting to be too much. With your wedding this weekend you need some good news, not this garbage. Who knows when the next attack will occur and how the government will react. We can't live in fear. We've got hungry bellies to feed, and I know you probably have a million and one things to do."

  I glanced at the staff who nodded in agreement with Lottie. I flipped the channel, and it happened to land on Fox News. "Look, they're interviewing Sabrina!" I exclaimed. I was relieved to see the familiar face of my best friend. No matter how horrific things seemed, she was a constant ray of sunshine in my world.

  Life had thrown both of us a curve ball and she was unrecognizable from the girl I had known ten years ago. Approximately six years earlier, she had been the victim of a terrible kidnapping incident which had been aimed at extorting large sums of cash from her father. She had managed to escape from her kidnapper and swore that an angel had helped her. Given that Sabrina was the least spiritual person I knew, I had been wildly skeptical about her sudden transformation, however, it was legit.

  Within six years, she had abandoned her old ways and had managed to open the biggest all-inclusive church in New Orleans. Angel Pulse United was a beacon of hope for a community that was becoming increasingly divisive. It was also quickly becoming an international pillar of strength for people of all nations, tongues, and ethnicities as it was expanding on a global level thanks to the power of the internet. The richest families in New Orleans invested in her church, including the Richards, the Dreauxs, and the LaPlantes.

  The image flashed to a young red-headed reporter with pale skin, thin lips and razor-sharp cheekbones. Her tone was somber and sharp as she began to speak. “We have with us Sabrina Richards from Angel Pulse United to give her thoughts on the terrible attack that just occurred at an all-black Baptist Church located in the Garden District.”

  Sabrina's golden hair shone under the bright studio light, and her blue eyes were full of tears. Her rose pink lips quivered as if fighting back heavy sobs of frustration and despair. She fluttered her mascara-coated eyelashes for a few seconds and toyed with the strand of pearls that hung around her neck before issuing a reply. "Lisa, my heart has never been so broken, so utterly devastated as it is right now."

  She paused dramatically, and thick tears streamed down her cheeks in what seemed like a never-ending flow. “I’ve been praying and praying for answers, but I haven’t gotten a response yet. There were innocent children in that church…” Her sobs got so intense that the words she wanted to speak refused to come out. “There were mothers, fathers, and grandparents. These were real people with valuable lives. Sometimes we simply cannot understand why Dieu does the things He does. Incidences such as these always seem to test our faith, but they also help us grow in strength and obedience to His will."

  Unwillingly, I started to cry right along with her in both sadness and relief. She was saying the exact words I needed to hear. I felt Lottie’s arm around me lending me comfort and support. “Change the channel, Arelia. Think positive thoughts. Think about your wedding dress and all the beautiful babies you’re going to have with Tony. I just bet they’re going to have his eyes and your hair. Wouldn't that be lovely? Do you have something blue and borrowed?" Bless her heart; Lottie was always looking on the bright side of life.

  "No. I want to listen to her." Over the years, Sabrina had become one of the wisest people I knew. She always seemed to give the best advice, and her words had a certain power behind them. When she spoke, her sincerity shone through, and everyone had a tendency to believe every single word that came out of her mouth.

  “How much longer are we going to let the violence continue? How much longer are we going to let our city and country be divided by differences that are purely superficial? Bon Dieu, He doesn't care about the color of your skin or how much money you have in the bank. He doesn't care about what denomination you belong to. It doesn't matter if you're black, white, Catholic, Baptist, Protestant, Lutheran or one of the other million different categories we have that keep us divided. He cares about your heart and the good intentions we have towards one another. When the angels speak to me, I can feel their sadness and heartache over how we treat one another. The Messiah will never come if we’re at each other’s throats. When He comes, He wants to find us in harmony. He wants us to have one heart and one unified pulse.”

  The reporter raised her eyebrows skeptically. I could see she didn't believe that Sabrina had contact with angels or a Messiah was coming to save us, however, I knew that my best friend was telling the truth. She had performed so many miracles which included healing members of her church, and one time she even made a torrential rainstorm stop through prayer. She gave so much to charity and had opened up various shelters for the homeless through the city. I couldn't say that I had any supernatural experience, but I often went to Sabrina's church as a means of lending her support. Whenever I showed up, she always pulled me on stage and made me lead prayer, which I hated.

  “What do you suggest that we as a nation do?” asked the reporter pressing Sabrina for answers.

  Sabrina looked towards the ceiling as she often did when receiving messages from the unseen realm. Her eyes shone, and a serene expression softened her entire face at the supernatural revelation that she had gotten. She straightened out her simple black shift dress and stopped her tears. After taking a deep breath, she began to speak.

  “America, I am challenging you to reset this nation through the largest church gathering that this country has ever seen. I am urging you to breathe life back into this country and stop the hatred and rage with a revival of epic-sized proportions. I don’t care what denomination you belong to or even if you believe in Bon Dieu at all. The fact of the matter is, united we stand, and divided we fall, don't you agree?" she asked the reporter who froze like a deer in headlights at the heavy question.

  “Agree with what?” The reporter’s green eyes narrowed as if she were being put on the spot.

  “That united we stand, and divided we fall, hasn’t that always been the motto of this great nation?”

  The reporter’s tight expression relaxed and a smile played on her lips. “Yes, I agree that this nation would be stronger united.”

  Sabrina gave her a large shiny white smile. Her latest veneers were larger than ever. They rivaled those of Joel Osteen. “In response to this horrific attack and as a method to combat all of the division that has overtaken this nation, Angel Pulse United is going to be putting together the largest spiritual gathering that this country has ever seen. My staff members are contacting the biggest names in the inspirational music industry and preachers from the largest churches to come together in the name of peace and unity. We’re even trying to get the Pope to come. Billy Graham has confirmed that he will be making an appearance. It is guaranteed to be the event that will change America forever. I invite anyone who is willing to put their faith in a higher power to come to this event as an act of rebellion against the violence and hatred that we find ourselves in the midst of.”

  She looked into the camera. Her eyes were filled with determination. "I am giving Ivan Beau, leader of the We Matter movement and lead singer of the Broken-Hearted Blues Boys a personal invitation to this event as a show of solidarity between our communities."

  "Ivan Beau?" The reporter raised her arched eyebrows even higher. "Getting him to appear at this event will be quite the challenge. Even if he does show up, there could be a risk of massive riots. The We Matter organization will inevitably seek revenge for the shooting that to
ok place today.”

  "I don't see it that way. I know Ivan Beau will be able to control his organization and see the benefit in working together. He wants the same thing we all do, and that is peace and safety."

  “Interesting, this event sounds exactly like the type of thing that our country needs at this critical time.” The reporter looked at Sabrina with admiration. “Where are you planning on holding this gathering?”

  Sabrina grinned at the reporter’s eagerness. “We’re going to hold it in front of the Louisiana State Capitol building.”

  “Why there?”

  "Well, it is the tallest capitol building in America, so we find it symbolic of the nation and of course a representation of New Orleans in general. This event is also a challenge to lawmakers and to the politicians that run this country to include Bon Dieu in their decisions, as above so below, the grand architect of the universe needs to be a part of our lives.”

  The reporter smiled. “It seems like a massive undertaking. Religion and politics have never mixed.”

  “Oh it is a massive effort and a radical idea, but maybe that’s what this country and the world needs a new order, a new way of doing things.”

  The reporter nodded intently urging Sabrina to continue. Once that girl started preaching, it always seemed as if someone or something else was speaking through her.

  "So far, we've been blessed, thanks to generous donations, the tentacles of Angel Pulse United run deep, and our networks are well established. I'm confident that we'll reach our objectives and will be able to create a better world for our children. The question is, Lisa, do you believe? Do you believe that we can create a new world order? Do you have faith?"