by H.H. Fowler
He watched as Asia broke out into a huge grin, as she tossed her arms lithely around his neck. They shared a light kiss before they disappeared into the restaurant. Izaiah was even more jealous now than he’d been five minutes before. He stood there contemplating his next move, but his conscience began to kick in and he suddenly realized how stupid it was of him to have interfered in Asia’s private life – even if he’d done it innocently. He regretted coming and to prevent making a complete fool out of himself, he quickly spun away from the Poinciana tree and practically jogged back to the Wrangler.
****
About three doors down from the Big Fish restaurant, Chazz sat alone on a stool in John’s Bar and Grill – one of four places located in the Quad where customers could gulp down three bottles of beer for less than five dollars. His plastic framed glasses that were fastened over his inviting eyes made him look like a frat boy from Harvard. He was about to down his second bottle of beer when he saw Ms. V saunter in, holding her head high as if she was the Prime Minister over the island.
Closely followed behind her were three men dressed in black suits. The waitress sat them in a corner booth and gave them menus to look at. Chazz studied the men for a short while, certain he’d seen them before. Those cocky smiles that went along with their air of arrogance were sure signs that he was looking at Gregory’s property attendants. Chazz wondered why they were here with Ms. V and not at the Beaufort’s estate doing Gregory’s bidding.
Even though it had been almost three years since he’d last seen them, it was impossible to forget how cruelly they had treated him. It was all Gregory’s doing, Chazz thought. It was he who’d wickedly dangled the bait of sin. Gregory used every means to ensure he had recruited Chazz successfully. Had he known that Gregory’s indecent proposal would have eventually led to the gates of hell, he would have probably thought twice about jumping so quickly to accept it. Just as he would have thought twice about letting Ms. V steal his virginity. Those two events ended up being the two most thoughtless decisions he’d ever made in his life. But that was the kind of filth the House of gods encouraged. Young men were often led deeper and deeper into debauchery.
Chazz ran his eyes over Ms. V. She was still an eye-catcher, but in a sick, evil kind of way. If other men found that appealing, then Ms. V would be their cup of tea. Chazz would never forget the first time he was introduced to her. Her first words to him were off the charts: “Take off everything; let me see if you’ve got what it takes. ” Mesmerized, and being propelled by unbridled lust, he obeyed.
His naked form seemed to please her and without another word, she took him by the hand to her bedroom where they did all sorts of perverse things that afternoon. His inexperience with sex didn’t matter, because Ms. V was an excellent teacher – that and a gamut of pornography he had been made to watch. He was then given basic level passwords and immediately placed on a three-month probation period as a means to measure his loyalty.
He had actually made it to the initiation ceremony and to the first dimension of power within the organization. But several weeks after the fanfare, his relationship with the organization began to take a downward turn. That was about the time he had met Dana. Chazz took full responsibility for his rebellion, because up to that point he was still trying to get his freedom back.
But such attention from Ms. V could make any man feel special. However, as Chazz later learned, Ms. V used sex simply as a tool to test the stamina of male recruits, who would eventually be put on display for the organization's high-end clients. Their lust was as deep as their pockets, and they would pay any amount of money to get whatever form of perversion they desired. Disgusted by his own thoughts, Chazz turned away and took a long swig from the beer bottle.
The more he thought of Ms. V and the secret organization that had messed up his life, the more he wanted to expose the filth that went on in that place. Starting with Gregory’s wife… Chazz vowed that she would be the first to know. She’d been the only one who’d treated him with respect, even though he’d disrespected her in the worst possible way. Five minutes later, Chazz got up to leave before he was singled out by these evil people. He slapped ten dollars in front of the bartender and told him to keep the change. He slipped out into the September breeze and disappeared as quickly as he could.
Lay hands suddenly on no man, neither be partaker of other men’s sins: keep thyself pure.
– 1 Timothy 5:22
Chapter Ten
Just over a decade ago, it wasn’t considered dangerous to stroll through the streets of St. Elmo’s Valley at ten o’clock at night. Even at midnight, it was still safe to leave front doors unlocked, but with the increase of armed robberies and other violent crimes, residents, especially those who lived in St. Elmo’s Valley, were becoming more vigilant. Some of the illegal immigrants that came to the shores of Bliss Haven came with a beast mentality – taking that which did not belong to them. They had arrived empty-handed, but they did not intend on remaining in that condition.
Fortunately, Jorge and his family had never experienced being robbed nor had their home broken into. They didn’t have much to offer anyway. With his parents not being able to find steady jobs, little money came in. So whatever they owned was sparse and outdated. It was almost as if Jorge was the sole provider for his family. The small amount he collected from selling his handcrafted jewelry kept food on the table and electricity running so that they could watch the local news on a small thirteen-inch TV.
The best set of clothing that Jorge had was two faded pairs of jeans, along with two dress shirts, one of which he had worn the other day when he met with Asia at the Quad. But once Jorge sprayed some starch and had painstakingly worked the iron over his clothes, they were presentable enough for him to even attend church, as it was this blessed Sunday morning. He was headed out to St. Donovan’s Chapel. At the Quad, Asia continued to strategize ways to meet Jorge where he wouldn’t be under the constant threat of her father’s men.
With his straw hat tied to the back of his neck, Jorge jumped on his bicycle. St. Donovan’s Chapel was roughly four miles away. If he pedaled fast enough, he should be there in under thirty minutes. But no matter the distance, he would travel it in a heartbeat, just to see his precious Asia. She was that special to him. He could remember the first time they’d spent hours together, sitting side by side in front of the aquamarine waters, conveniently located about half a mile down from the airport.
It had been two weeks since their first meeting. She had sought him out, wanting to talk to someone about her home situation. He had been hanging out with the straw vendors, just as he’d told her he would be. The time flew by and it had not seemed enough, as they talked about everything that was in their hearts. However, a portion of their conversation stood out in his mind, because it had always remained with him how impressive Asia’s character truly was.
“All of my friends at the academy are asking me about this necklace,” Asia had said, as she slowly encircled the smooth surface with her fingers. “Jorge, you are quite talented.”
“Thank you, but it’s nothing,” he said, trying to downplay her accolade. He couldn’t believe that she had worn the necklace all that time. “I make those so that I can have a little money in my pocket.”
“How much do you sell them for, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“It depends. Some for three dollars, some for less.”
Asia looked horrified. “You’re kidding, right? Jorge, your jewelry is top quality. Why do you sell them so cheap?”
“That’s all the vendors would buy them for. Sometimes, I can make ten dollars per piece, if I sell them directly to the tourists, but my partner and I are always being chased by the police. And if they are not chasing us, they are accosting us and stealing our money. So far, the straw market is the safest place to hang; nobody bothers us there.”
“There must be something that can be done about that,” Asia cried. “I can’t believe such injustice goes on in Bliss Haven.”
“Asia, welcome to the real world,” Jorge said. “I am from St. Elmo’s Valley, one of the most disgraceful parishes on this small island. Nobody is going to hand out any favors to me. I have to make life the best way I can.”
“Can’t the government do something about that? I mean, this island brings in enough money to take care of its people.”
“Politics is not so clear cut,” Jorge said resignedly. He grew silent, amazed that a well-to-do girl like Asia was showing such concern for him. She was gorgeous to stare at, a girl he knew would be hard to make his own. For now, he was simply thankful to be her friend. They had taken off their shoes and had buried their feet in the cool sand. He wished they could sit side by side forever, and not have to go back to their separate abodes.
“Maybe my father can help,” Asia said, breaking the silence. “Your work deserves better recognition.”
Jorge looked at her warmly, loving the way her concern made him feel. He had never felt so wanted in all his life. “I can’t believe you would do that for me.”
Asia seemed insulted. She locked her onyx eyes on him and said pointedly, “You are so easy to talk to, Jorge. I feel like I can tell you anything.” She stared down at the sand, a bashful look to her face. “There is a connection between us that I can’t explain,” she continued. “I don’t know you that well, but what I do know is that I like what I feel when I’m with you. So please, let me help in any way that I can.”
“Pull over!”
The command slapped Jorge out of his rumination, and dragged his attention to a black, sleek limo, moving alongside him. His first reaction was to pedal faster, but he knew the limo would outride him within a second.
“What do you want?” Jorge called back. “I’m heading to church.”
“Maybe tomorrow,” one of the men said with a grin. “You are certainly not going anywhere at this moment. Pull over, or we will have to do something drastic.”
Jorge didn’t like the aura of these men. They looked like skilled mercenaries who’d been given orders to ‘take care’ of the problem. There was no question about who’d sent them, Jorge thought. What was more frightening was what were they going to do to him?
“Alright, I’ll pull over,” Jorge told the men. “But promise you won’t hurt me.”
Jorge’s words elicited a derisive grin from the man in the passenger seat. How dare this pitiable vagrant bargain with them? He was lucky that they hadn’t run him over with the limo. When Jorge slowed his bicycle up against the hedges of the street, the men swung the car in front of him and jumped out. There were three of them, huge, beefy men who looked as if they had swallowed a bison. They wasted no time in their attack. Fists balled to the size of a small coconut, they began to rain down a combo of punches to Jorge’s body.
“I didn’t do anything,” Jorge cried. He dropped to the ground in the fetal position, in an attempt to shield himself from the blows, but his actions only caused the men to become more violent. They began kicking him with the steel tips of their shoes; their words were laced with strong profanity. It made Jorge wonder if it was a case of mistaken identity. But Jorge knew better. Gregory had sent the men to derail him from seeing his daughter, but Jorge suspected that they’d followed Asia to the Quad and saw him spending time with her. It was the only explanation he could come up with as to why Gregory’s men were attacking him now.
Jorge cried out in pain, as the first sign of blood began to trickle out of his mouth. “I won’t go near her again,” he finally gasped. “I promise I will stay away from Asia, if that’s what you came to warn me about.”
At Jorge’s concession, the men brought the attack to a halt. The boy knew who they were, but they couldn’t care less. Mission had been accomplished. With menacing glares, they spat on the ground next to Jorge, openly showing their disdain for him. They climbed into the limo and screeched away in the direction of St. Donovan’s Chapel, where they would sit in the back pew until Gregory finished his sermon.
In the stillness of the afternoon, surrounded by the scorching heat of the sun, Jorge lay motionless. He could not stop the tears from pouring out of his eyes. The pain of losing Asia was harder to endure than the blows he had received to his body. He felt like dying. Maybe if he stayed on the ground a little longer, his soul would eventually find rest in God’s eternal paradise. Because there was no way he would be able to go on without Asia in his life.
Chapter Eleven
St. Donovan’s Chapel
Service in the chapel was already underway when Gregory pulled Izaiah into his office. The black cassock and the priestly biretta that Gregory wore made him appear like a different man in Izaiah’s eyes. Gone was the man with huge grins in tennis shorts. Instead, a stoic expression preceded Gregory’s words.
“Please, have a seat,” Izaiah heard Gregory say. “I am scheduled to mount the pulpit in a few minutes, but I need to have a word with you.”
Izaiah simply nodded.
Gregory cleared his throat as he zeroed in on Izaiah’s questioning gaze. What he was about to say should put the young man’s concerns to rest. “After this morning’s service, I will announce to the congregation that you have been installed as the new youth minister of St. Donovan’s Chapel. Do you have any reservations before I proceed?”
Izaiah raised his brows in surprise, because Gregory had been introducing Izaiah as his tennis partner to everyone they met. All week long he had been trying to get an audience with Gregory, to find out where he stood as far as the youth minister position was concerned. Why all of a sudden did Gregory choose to use the pulpit to stir up trouble? Izaiah wouldn’t have minded so much if Gregory hadn’t kept his family in the dark about the announcement.
“Do you still want the position?” Gregory prompted.
“Of course I want the position,” Izaiah answered. “It’s the reason I came to Bliss Haven. But why didn’t you tell your family about it when I was first introduced to them?”
Gregory said amicably, “I’m surprised that it took you so long to ask me about that.”
“What do you mean? I’ve been trying to talk to you alone all week.”
“You seem upset.”
“To be honest with you, sir, I am, because it feels as if I’m getting the run around. When I was accepted for the position, I was under the impression that I had been hired because of my skills and experience in youth ministry, not because you wanted someone to play tennis with, or to follow behind your daughter like a lost puppy.”
Gregory chuckled.
“What is so funny?”
“I simply wanted to know if I could trust you, Izaiah. I know how pressing my wife and daughters can be. You did not divulge anything to them, despite me parading you around as my tennis partner. You can relax now, you have passed the test.”
Izaiah thought of a spicy comeback to put Gregory in his place, because Izaiah still felt that Gregory was using him for his own personal agenda. But Izaiah really wanted the position. Getting Gregory upset over his smart mouth was probably not the wisest thing to do.
“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment,” he told Gregory instead.
“You should,” Gregory said, “because I rarely trust anyone.”
Including your wife, Izaiah wanted to add, but he knew for sure those three words would get him shipped back to the United States on the first flight smoking.
“What about your daughter?” Izaiah asked guardedly.
“What about her?”
“The part about me befriending her and all.”
“Yes, that still stands.” Gregory stood, which was a sign that he was ready to head to the pulpit. “My daughter needs someone in her life like you. You hang around her long enough, and eventually, you will not be able to leave her side, anyway. Her personality is very addictive.”
As much as Izaiah didn’t want to admit it, there was some truth to Gregory’s twisted words. He got a foretaste of Asia when they were on the veranda the other day. Although the Al
satians had almost made him pee his pants, he could still hear Asia’s infectious giggles ringing in his ears. He had even followed her all the way to the Quad and had gotten jealous over the boy she was secretly dating behind Gregory’s back.
However, Izaiah did not like being a pawn in anyone’s game. If he was going to befriend Asia, he would do it of his own accord. Not because Gregory demanded it. That would certainly take the pressure off of him, knowing that his friendship with Asia would be genuine. Following Gregory’s lead, Izaiah stood as well and trailed Gregory out of the office.
****
As soon as the benediction was given over the service, a flock of women encircled Izaiah, congratulating him as the new youth minister of St. Donovan’s Chapel. It was obvious the women were excited about this new prospect. Their Sundays would now be filled with expectation, fantasizing about the handsome, young minister. Izaiah was used to the attention, but he didn’t want to give the women the wrong impression of his character. Just because he was smiling and holding his stare a little longer than normal, didn’t mean he was looking for a wife.
He was relieved when Gregory pulled him aside to greet some of the people who would be working along with him in his new position. As Izaiah shook their hands, he noticed Dana had taken a seat at the back of the church – two benches away from Gregory’s men. Her body was poised in a way, indicating that she was not in a rush to go anywhere. She did not wear those big-brimmed hats, or those lavish outfits Izaiah had seen on some first ladies. Compared to most, Dana’s style was simple, but elegant enough to make her stand out. Her creamy, unblemished complexion was reason enough to stare.
Izaiah assumed Dana was bothered by Gregory’s announcement, because she was the only one who hadn’t congratulated him on his new position. But could he blame Dana for her actions? He would be upset, too, if he had been left out of the loop, especially because Dana was Gregory’s wife. She should have not been treated like everyone else.