Church Boyz 1 (Rod of the Wicked)

By the time that Abraham got home and unzipped his black cassock, the sun had begun to set. He knew Leroy looked good in the cassocks, but they were not for a man like him, as he stood less than five feet nine inches tall. The robe made him look like a stubby little monk. He was incredibly conscious of his appearance, and how people perceived him was very important. He had learned a long time ago that clothing was a form of stigmatization: It revealed secrets about a person’s individuality. So he gave special attention to what he wore. He understood that psychology was a powerful tool, and if used right it could produce the desired results.

  Again, he placed the phone to his ear, aggravated by his failed attempts to reach Dominic. He was tempted to believe Shaniece was right: Dominic was doing his best to avoid them. Whatever the reason, Abraham thought; it should have not reduced his behavior to disrespect. Considering the fact that he had given him five years of strong mentorship, he owed him at least, a shred of courtesy.

  That last thought made him cringe. His reasoning sounded like Leroy, who always demanded respect from everyone, even when it was inappropriate. And although he really wanted to know the reason why Dominic had left the organ in the middle of his announcement, he prayed he was simply acting out of concern and not as Leroy’s protégé. He simply left a message on Dominic’s voicemail.

  It was approaching seven thirty in the evening, and as far as Abraham knew, there wasn’t anything else on his agenda for the church. He could finally put up his feet and relax, maybe put on a movie to help clear his head. He was still reeling from the afternoon’s drama between Leroy and First Lady Paxton. They’d fought before; many times in front of him, but today was different. Anyone willing to jump out of a moving vehicle going eighty miles an hour had reached his or her cutoff point. A crazy way to end a life, but it was also a way of sending a strong message. It was going to take more than roses and chocolate to reconcile the growing rift between them.

  Abraham had taken Leroy to his mansion in River Springs, of course, without his wife. Apart from being drawn into the Paxton’s intimate lives, he had the uncanny ability to predict the next move of a circumstance. Some called him a seer, some, a modern day prophet, but for a long while, he had rejected the titles, simply because he wanted to avoid being bunched into people’s deranged opinions.

  He was just an ordinary man with a purpose. For four years, he’d warned Leroy about the direction of his leadership. He’d warned him about spending too much time at the church, and with Shaniece. The church would survive, and Shaniece would suck it up, but a neglected wife and kids may not. Abraham knew at some point Leroy would come face to face with his demons.

  “I hope you don’t mind; the door was open…” a woman’s voice stated.

  Abraham immediately sat up erect on the sofa and looked at the clock. It was now ten past ten at night.

  I must have fallen asleep for a few hours, he thought, as his mind swam to full consciousness. Meanwhile, the woman shook out a Virginia slim, lit it, and then brought two fingers to her mouth. She trembled violently.

  Abraham ran his eyes over her from head to toe, hiding his disgust. He couldn’t believe he’d married this woman, when all she did was took his money and hurt his feelings. But he loved her dearly. Her prominent nose and chin, (which were of Scandinavian standards) and her outspoken personality were the first to get his attention.

  “Sooner or later, I knew that you would come back,” he finally told her. “You know I will take care of you.”

  “Yeah, right – let’s get this over with.”

  Abraham stood up in response, calling her by her stage name. “Honey, why do you keep yourself looking so untidy?”

  Honey sidestepped the question by swinging her armpits up to her nostrils. “I could use a bath. That cheap jerk left his cheap cologne all over me.” She let out a ring of smoke in Abraham’s face. “What’s it to you anyway? All of what we do is dirty.”

  “Let’s stick to what we agreed to, and that includes you taking a bath. I will get you a towel and a change of clothing.”

  Honey observed how Abraham wrinkled his nose at her. “You don’t like me smoking in here, do you?”

  “No. I’ve told you that repeatedly. How did you pick up such a nasty habit?”

  “Men, darlin’. Too many of them; too many demands.” Honey looked around nervously, even though she had been there many times before. She just couldn’t see herself living with Abraham twenty-four-seven, even though she was married to him. She’d warned Abraham that taking her to the Justice of the Peace would not cause her to be faithful to him, but he’d insisted they go through with it. It was going to take more than a marriage certificate to erase what she had become. “Where you want to do this?”

  “You’re always in a rush. Be patient.” Abraham took the cigarette away from her and mashed it in an ashtray. “You know how I operate.”

  “Should I leave my clothes in here?”

  “Please, use the bathroom this time. It’s easier to discard them in the hamper.”

  “So you can wash them like you did with the last ones?”

  Abraham did not respond. Honey knew that he would do anything for her. Washing her clothes was simply a byproduct of his love. He was her husband for God’s sake.

  Honey grinned, revealing a row of coffee-stained teeth. “You do this type of stuff all the time?”

  “What stuff?”

  “Invite strangers into your home and wash their clothes…”

  “Stop the nonsense, Honey. You are not a stranger. You are my wife. I married you to help you, but you won’t let me take care of you, and you won’t move in as I’d pleaded with you. Things need to change.”

  “Well…” Honey wrung her hands, uncertain of how to respond to Abraham’s generosity. “You are too needy. Always wanting something and it gives me the creeps. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’m sorry for you, because you’ve been lied to.” She showed those coffee-stained teeth again, as she made her way toward the bathroom. She paused briefly and let out a throaty cough. “Oh, I almost forgot – some kid stopped by the last time I was here.”

  Abraham’s heart ran to the bottom of his feet. “And you’re just now telling me this? What kid?”

  “Oh hell, Abraham, I don’t know. He didn’t leave a name.”

  “What did he want?”

  “He ran off before I could ask him,” she chuckled, this time, waking up a chain of dry hacking coughs. She cupped her breasts and then shook them as she’d done that Friday night. “I guess these babies frightened the color out of his face.”

  Instinctively, Abraham walked over to the window and yanked the curtains closed. “I’ve told you to lock the door behind you whenever you come in.”

  “My, my, my, aren’t we in a little bit of trouble. Haven’t you told them the truth about us, Abraham? You naughty little boy. I guess my moving in now is out of the question.”

  “We’re married,” Abraham spat.

  “Yeah? What fool would believe you married a prostitute?”

  Abraham had an instant mood change, allowing his imagination to get the best of him. He must have been in the shower during the time of the visit. It could have been any one of the young men who came to his place for counseling. But all of them were on a schedule to avoid them clashing with his personal life. In spite of wanting to dismiss the worst-case scenario, everything inside of him told him the kid was Dominic Housten – his beloved protégé. That would explain his recent behavior – the avoidance and the unexplained disaffection. He would have to tell Dominic the truth. As his mentor, he owed him that much.

  Chapter Six