Chapter 5 - Echoes from Birmingham
September, 1963
Some are born teachers, some healers, and still others judges. Each knows their role and finds contentment once realized. But if you’re born a sword, what then? Perhaps your whole life becomes a question unto God, one which you are deftly afraid to have answered.
Sarah had an easy way about her and an easy smile. Even as a little girl, like a ray of sunshine, she would warm any room simply by entering it. Her favorite word was “Why” and her favorite two words were “Why Not.” In her younger days, Sarah questioned everything. She even questioned the need for the family business or at least the need for her to be a part of it. Like so many black folks who grew up in the South during the Civil Rights movement, she had a deep desire to leave it all behind, including the “Call” as Cil called it, to wage this holy war against the darkness.
On this particular day in 1963, Sarah and her sisters were dressed for choir practice. They were waiting at the house for Miss Elizabeth to pick them up when they received a call from her to come to the church immediately. The four of them marched in staircase order with Cil, dressed in black, leading the way, while Sarah, adorned in red, brought up the rear.
Deborah, wearing a yellow polka-dotted dress and walking right behind Cil looked back at her little sisters, Ruth and Sarah, and commanded, “Keep up. Cil says that Daddy needs us.”
The girls burst through the door calling out to their father and Miss Elizabeth as they marched down the center aisle. Hosea was an associate priest at that time and Miss Elizabeth was the choir director. As the girls approached the pulpit, their steps slowed when they saw their father sitting with his head in his hands. Miss Elizabeth sat beside him, trying to comfort him.
Sarah was the first to speak to him. “What’s wrong, Daddy?”
Hosea, seeing his daughters around him, opened up his arms and reached out to his girls. They entered his arms and he hugged them all as best he could as he wept.
A blue-adorned Ruth Ann asked Hosea for a second time, “What’s wrong, Daddy?”
He could not speak. All he could do was to hold them tighter.
None of the girls had ever seen their daddy cry before and this frightened them. In fact, Deborah, who was becoming increasingly upset, began to ask her father the same question for a third time when Miss Elizabeth interrupted.
“There was a bombing today in Birmingham, at a Baptist church. Four little girls were killed,” she said.
Hosea wept and held his children even tighter. Sarah’s plastic sunshades fell from her face and onto the floor. Tragedy was nothing new to Hosea or to anyone truly involved in the movement but this was different. Hosea knew the pastor and had fellowshipped with the families after church when he visited. He knew that it was only by the grace of God that it wasn’t his four little girls who had been murdered on that dark day. Again, it crossed his mind to leave this place, to leave this battle for civil rights to someone else. He was a college graduate and held a master’s degree in a time when this could seldom be said about a black man. Outside of the South, he had options. He could gather up his girls and move away from the madness of this civil and spiritual warfare. It could be so simple, if he would just allow it to be so. Yet he knew that he’d been called to this battle as surely as he’d been called to preach and to cast out demons.
In a rare display of open affection between the two, Miss Elizabeth reached over and rubbed the back of Hosea’s head and neck as she whispered words of comfort to him. He had always been there for her as he had been for everyone else. He visited her in jail. He put up collateral to bail her out. He did the same for her siblings back in New Orleans who served time for less noble reasons than she did. Hosea was always faithful. Thus, she was sickened by how few of those he helped were there for him when he was no longer one of the most popular pastors in New Orleans.
Moments later, there was a knock at the door of the church. Hosea wiped the tears from his eyes and rose to answer it. He found it odd that anyone would knock, given that the door was unlocked. When he opened the door he saw a silver haired man and an olive skinned woman. A strange pair indeed, but neither was a stranger to Hosea.
“Matasis, I see that you’ve taken on a new host and seeing you with Isadora, I also see that the rumors are true.”
Matasis grinned, “What? That I’ve formed a new Council of Nob? Yes, that is a fact. And I now see with my own eyes that you survived my touch, back in New Orleans. So far, at least.”
A slightly agitated Isadora stood behind Matasis uncomfortable with the fact that she was standing outside of a house of light and that Hosea was, indeed, still alive.
Hosea teased, “I would invite you in except that you’re not welcome here.”
Matasis parried back, “Oh, and I don’t want to enter your house of the poor and pathetic. What kind of life is that?”
Watch your tongue, demon,” Hosea interrupted, “You cannot enter, so why are you here?”
Hosea glanced beyond the pair in front of him to see several forms standing along the rooftops across the street staring blankly down at the three of them.
Matasis glanced at Isadora before speaking to Hosea, “A new age is upon you and I come here to offer you an opportunity at freedom. I offer you the opportunity to gather up your belongings and to leave this place and this life of constant conflict. This is chance to move somewhere, where your children will be safe and you can live out the rest of your days in peace. A place where they are safe from random acts of violence from rogue space gods.”
Hosea realized that Poseidon’s attack was at Matasis’ direction. His nostrils flared and, for the briefest moment, he thought he might take a swing at the smiling, demon-filled vessel. But, his years of experience had taught him restraint when dealing with demons. Instead, he stilled himself and resolved to confront Matasis and the other members of the Council of Nob at a time of his choosing.
Matasis and Isadora smiled wryly at each another before Matasis spoke again, “That’s right. We don’t want to cross this threshold but neither do you. And, be you mindful in the days to come. We have other team members that have no problem stepping across this line.”
By this Matasis meant that the others — Chase, Destry, Poseidon, and Zi the Sorceress as mortal beings of free will — could enter the church as they pleased.
Matasis continued, “And, understand, too, this is an arrangement that has been worked out by others on your behalf. That incident at the lake was merely a taste of what awaits you and yours if you do not leave town.”
Isadora the Soul Snatcher chimed in, “I still don’t like the deal. We should just kill them all and be done with it.” She scowled and Hosea could see the Gates of Hell in her eyes.
Matasis continued, “As you can see, I cannot guarantee your safety if you remain here.”
Hosea coldly replied, “So, that’s it? We just leave town?”
“Well, no, not exactly. But, I’ll let Paul tell you about that. However, there is one thing which could turn this whole conversation around. What do you know of this Dream Box of which lesser demons speak? The prophecies say that your family has possession of it. Tell me where it is and you can remain here in peace.”
Hosea knew of the prophecies regarding his wife’s family too, but he grimaced before replying to the despots at his door, “Those stories have been around for centuries. But if I did indeed have the Dream Box, do you think we’d be having this conversation?” Neither party was forthcoming with all they knew on the matter.
Matasis smiled, “I figured as much but I had to ask.” He then looked around Hosea to his children gathered around the pulpit, who were staring back at him, “So, those are your babies. Nice. You’ve provided a good life for them, all things considered. I hope things stay that way for them. Take the deal, Hosea, and leave this town to us.”
With that, Matasis and Isadora laughed and turned to walk away. As they did, the six men standing along the rooftop all jumped
to the unforgiving pavement below. Hosea could literally feel their lost souls depart their flesh and flow into Isadora in route to Oblivion, the realm she ruled. The Queen of the Dead wiped the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief she had pulled from her purse and winked at Hosea as she and Matasis walked off.
Hosea’s fury could barely be contained as he walked back down the aisle towards the pulpit.
Miss Elizabeth asked him, “Who was that?”
Hosea answered, “That was Matasis and Isadora, two evil spirits.”
A startled Elizabeth held her hand to her mouth before replying, “Here, in Atlanta? Lord…”
“Where’s the phone?” Hosea asked.
Elizabeth replied, “They moved it last week to the phone jack on the side wall.”
Hosea marched from behind the pulpit to the side wall, picked up the phone, and began to dial.
“I know you’re upset,” Elizabeth continued trying to calm Hosea.
Hosea was upset but not for the reasons that Elizabeth thought. Finally, someone on the other end of the line picked up.
Elizabeth and the girls heard a muted, “Hello.”
“Paul, what have you done?” Hosea yelled into the phone.
Uncle Paul tried to explain himself. Hosea listened for a bit shaking his head all the while.
“Man, where is your faith?” Hosea asked Paul.
Harsh words were exchanged between the two until Hosea ended the call with, “You can’t win in a deal with the devil. Don’t you know that by now?”
Slamming the phone down, Hosea walked back towards his family. With a confounded look on his face, Hosea sat down next to Elizabeth and said softly, “For every action, there is a price, whether you’re the one paying it or not. Everything has a price; the universe is resolved in this. And, this action by Paul will extract a price, a heavy one.”
Elizabeth, still trying to put the pieces together asked Hosea, “What did Paul agree to?”
Hosea looked up and answered, “He convinced Elisa to serve the Council of Nob in exchange for the Council not harming my girls.”
Miss Elizabeth who had developed a deep affection for Elisa shook her head as she called out, “No, no, no…”