My Truth My Time My Turn

by Shelia E. Bell

  Winston was a good looking guy so she was pleasantly surprised when she first saw him. Real easy on the eyes. Before Khalil, she probably would have, no she knew she would have, gotten Winston in her bed, but she didn’t want any other man since meeting Khalil.

  “I shouldn’t care what Hezekiah thinks,” she tried convincing herself. “As for Khalil, maybe this will show him he can trust me, that I have his back. Dee, you cannot afford for this to backfire in your face. It would destroy every hope you have of becoming First Lady McCoy.” She stopped talking to herself when she heard the doorbell chiming.

  She looked at the clock sitting on the sleek white desk. It was six-forty five. It had to be Hezekiah. She didn’t think Winston would come forty five minutes early.

  “Dee,” she heard Priscilla call. “Deeetriuhh,” she called out again.

  Dee exhaled and then opened the door to the office and headed down the long hall leading to the front of the house. Sure enough, there sat Hezekiah in his wheelchair.

  “You can come to the office. That’s where we’re meeting. Where’s Benny?”

  “He’s gone. I told him I would call him when I’m ready. He’s not far. He has customers out this way.”

  Priscilla gave Detria a look that told her she didn’t agree with whatever Detria had going on now.

  “Priscilla, I’m expecting someone else. When he comes will you show him to the office?”

  Priscilla nodded. “Yes. Would you like something to drink, Reverend McCoy?”

  “Thank you, Priscilla. I believe I would. Water with lemon and if you have any scotch, I’d like a shot, no ice.”

  “I’ll bring it to you in the office. Anything to eat?”

  Hezekiah raised a hand. “No, I’ve had dinner. Thank you, Priscilla.”

  “You’re welcome.” She turned and walked off while Detria and Hezekiah continued until they arrived to the open door of her office.

  The spacious bright white Mediterranean office was inviting with a teal velvet sofa and large windows that allowed natural light to illuminate the space. A white fireplace was flanked by built-in bookshelves. An oversized piece of colorful art brought out the popping color of the sofa and complemented the vibrant teal blue tufted chairs.

  Hezekiah was able to easily maneuver in the space without fear of bumping into anything.

  Priscilla returned with his water and scotch just as the doorbell chimed again.

  “That’s probably our guest,” Hezekiah said, looking at Detria.

  “Priscilla,” said Detria.

  “I’ll bring him back,” Priscilla replied.

  “Thanks, Priscilla.”

  Moments later, Khalil entered the room much to Hezekiah’s amazement. An immediate scowl formed over his face. “What the hell are you doing here?” he barked.

  Khalil replied with a wicked smile. “Hi, Father. I’m delighted to see you too.”

  Hezekiah glared at Detria. “Did you know about this?”

  A lump formed in Dee’s throat. Before she could answer, Priscilla ushered in Winston.

  “Good even—” Winston stopped in mid-sentence when he entered the office next and saw Khalil in the room. He deflected his eyes from Dee to Khalil to the man he assumed was Hezekiah McCoy. He’d never laid physical eyes on Hezekiah, but he knew it was him because the man was sitting in a wheelchair, and he and Khalil highly favored each other. “Good evening,” he finished his sentence. “Ah, what’s going on here?”

  “I’d liked the answer to that question myself,” seethed Hezekiah.

  “And so would I,” Khalil retorted. “But it looks like you and my father have plotted against my mother. And I don’t like what I’m seeing.”

  Detria remained quiet, cowering in the corner of the room near the fireplace.

  “You know my father and you’re smashing my mom?” Khalil walked up on Winston and stood in his face, toe-to-toe.

  “I don’t know your father.”

  “You’re a liar. Why are you here then?”

  “Detria contacted me, told me your father wanted to see me.” Winston was by no means scared, but he wanted to restrain himself from knocking out the young man standing in his face. Out of respect for his mother was the only reason he didn’t punch his lights out. As for Hezekiah, he didn’t know what kind of game this man was playing, but it wasn’t worth Winston getting into a brawl or something worse because of it, especially if it was over a woman.

  “I guess I should be asking you why I’m here,” Winston turned, walked a step back from Khalil and focused his stare on Hezekiah.

  Hezekiah, biting on his bottom lip, looked at Detria like he could kill her right on the spot.

  “Well, seems like since you, my darling, arranged for us all to be here, I guess there’s no reason to hide my hand. Detria works for me. She has for quite some time. I should say she’s worked for me and in return I make sure she’s supplied with all the powder and any other drug she wants.”

  If Detria could have made herself disappear, she would have rather than face Khalil’s hardened stare.

  “So this is how you do it?” His features twisted into a maddening sneer.

  “No, Khalil. That’s not true. Don’t listen to him.” She gave him a quick, denying glance.

  “If you’re doing my father’s dirty deeds in return for drugs you’ve reached an all-time low. You’re nothing but trash. I always knew you were. I’m glad I took you for every dime I could.”

  Detria broke out crying. “Please, Khalil.” She ran over to him and reached out for him but he pushed her away, causing her to fall to the floor.

  “Hold up, man. No need for all of that. She’s a lady.” Winston spoke up, walked over to where Detria was and reached down his hand to help her off the floor.

  “Hah, lady? I don’t think so,” Khalil spewed.

  Without knocking, Priscilla entered the room. “Excuse me, can I get any of you anything?”

  “No! Just leave, Priscilla. Get out,” screamed Detria.

  Priscilla abruptly turned, slammed the office door shut, and left.

  “You want to know why he’s here? You think I don’t know he’s smashing your mother? You think he just happened to meet her by accident? Then ask him? Ask him how much I just paid him to keep seeing your mother. Go on, ask him.”

  Khalil’s nostrils flared. You could see his arteries throbbing in his neck. He balled his fists and took three giant steps forward toward his father. Without holding back, he hit Hezekiah in his face.

  Blood gushed from Hezekiah’s mouth and nose.

  “Stop it! Stop it, Khalil,” Detria screamed with a thread of hysteria in her voice.

  Hezekiah used one hand to wipe the blood from his face.

  Winston, though furious with what Hezekiah said, pulled Khalil back and away from his father.

  Hezekiah, undetected, texted Benny.

  “Come now. Trouble.”

  Khalil jerked away from Winston. “Don’t you ever step foot in my mother’s house again. If I even hear of you coming near her, I swear I’ll kill you.”

  Hezekiah laughed and then looked up at his son. A glower spread over his face as his bloody mouth began to swell. “That’s my boy. A real chip off the old block.” Hezekiah continued to taunt his son while Detria sat in the chair crying like a baby and Winston turned to go out of the office.

  “Hey, you. You heard my boy. But thanks for everything. Keep the five grand I gave you for making it good for the First Lady.”

  Khalil ran to his father again with balled fists. “I’d think twice about that if I were you,” Benny said as he walked into the office. “You okay?” He removed his glasses and revealed hard, gelatin eyes.

  “Never better,” Hezekiah shot back. “Get me out of here.”

  Fancy was distraught after Khalil rushed to her house after leaving Detria’s. He told her everything that had transpired.

  “But I…how…how could Winston do this? I thought we had something special. And your father, why does
he want to keep hurting me?” She cried so hard she began hyperventilating.

  Khalil gathered her in his arms and pulled her next to him as they sat on her sofa. “I’m sorry, Ma. But it’s better you found out now than on down the road. The man is filth. I told him never to set foot in this house again. If he does, let me know.”

  “I can’t believe this. There has to be some explanation. There just has to be.”

  Xavier stormed into his mother’s house. Khalil called him after leaving Detria’s house and told him everything that had gone down.

  “Ma, are you okay?” he asked, running and sitting down on the other side of her.

  Fancy continued crying. “Why? Whyyy?”

  Khalil and Xavier looked up at each other. The unspoken words of the two brothers was written all over their faces. They had to protect their mother by any means necessary.

  While they were consoling their mother, her cell phone rang.

  Xavier got up and walked over to where the phone lay on the foyer table. “It’s him,” he said, looking at Khalil.

  Khalil jumped up from the sofa.

  “Don’t answer it,” Fancy begged. “Just leave it alone.”

  “Didn’t I tell you not to contact my mother?”

  “I need to talk to her. I need to explain. Where is she?”

  “You don’t need to explain a darn thing. It’s clear what you were after. You’re nothing but a paid gigolo. You stay away from her. I’m warning you.” Khalil ended the call and Fancy ran off to her bedroom in tears, slamming the door behind her.

  “Ma…Ma.” Xavier followed and knocked on his mother’s bedroom door. He could hear her crying.

  Khalil walked up and called her name too.

  “Ma, can we come in?”

  “Just leave. I can’t talk right now.”

  “Ma, please,” Xavier implored.

  “Ma, we just want to make sure you’re okay and then I promise, we’ll leave,” Khalil explained.

  Fancy sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. “Come in.”

  Xavier opened the door. He saw his mother sitting on the end of her bed, her eyes beet red and her hands trembling. He walked over to her and knelt beside her.

  “Ma, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

  “I’m sorry this happened,” Khalil said as he came up and stood beside his brother. “I wish things could have been different for you. You deserve the best of everything, and I’m sorry our father did you this way. I’m sorry that punk hurt you, too.”

  “Ma, it’s going to be a’ite. You’ll see,” Xavier reassured her.

  “I… I just need to be alone right now. Please, the two of you should go home.”

  “But we don’t want to leave you like this,” Xavier pleaded.

  “I told you, I’m good.”

  “I’ll stay the night,” Khalil offered.

  “No, please, I’m fine. Just go. I need time to sort everything out. I promise I’ll be all right.”

  Xavier got off of his knees and stood next to Khalil.

  “Okay, we’ll go, but if dude comes over here, do not let him in, Ma. Please.”

  “I won’t. Now just go.” She shooed them away and stood. Walking out of her room, she paused, looked at them, and tilted her head to the side slightly and continued walking.

  Khalil and Xavier followed her as she led them to the door.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay here by yourself?”

  “Xavier, honey, yes.”

  Each of them kissed her on the cheek and then walked out of the door.

  Fancy closed and locked the door behind them. Returning to her room, she lay back down again on her bed and allowed her tears to freely fall.

  The ringing of her phone continued for some time as Winston kept calling. She only answered it when Khalil called to check on her and shortly thereafter Xavier texted her. She responded by assuring both of them she was fine but she and God knew better.

  When she heard the doorbell, she looked at her phone and saw Winston outside her door. She lived in a gated community but there were times cars trailed closely behind another car when the gate opened. That way they were able to gain entrance into Lion’s Gate without buzzing the resident. As a measure of added security, she was glad she’d listened to Khalil’s advice and gotten a doorbell camera installed. She watched as he continued to press the doorbell and nervously rock from side to side. How dare he come to her home after what he’d done. She wanted nothing to do with him.

  Her phone rang but again she refused to answer. After ringing the doorbell and pounding on her door for several minutes, he finally turned and left.

  The hurt she felt turned to rage as she thought of how low down and dirty Hezekiah had been. She called the last number he’d called her from. Much to her surprise, he answered.

  “Hi, Fancy, to what do I owe this call?”

  “How could you? And why would you want to hurt me, Hezekiah? What happened to the man I fell in love with?”

  “I guess he went wherever the woman I felt in love with went. And how can you call me and talk about hurt? You and my sons have done everything you possibly can to destroy me. My son stole over a hundred thousand dollars of my money. And you, you’re behind this whole charge that’s been brought against me. You know what prison is like, Fancy, yet, you want to send me back there?”

  “You are the one who embezzled from Holy Rock, Hezekiah, not me. I never wanted to see you go back to prison, but this is your doing. I can’t believe you would hire someone to do what Winston did to me.”

  “You’ve always been so naïve, so vulnerable. Stop the crying. Act like a grown woman instead of a stupid, silly high school girl. If you like him so much, call him up. I’m sure he’ll be willing to come back.”

  “Why, you sick son of…”she mouthed, followed by a stream of expletives.

  “Now, now, Fancy, I don’t think that kind of talk is very First lady like. Remember what I told you, you reap what you sow. But, just so you know, I’m not done. Khalil stole from me and he’s going to get what’s coming to him, too. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sick of hearing your pathetic self on this phone. Goodnight, love.” Hezekiah ended the call.

  Fancy crawled underneath the bed covers and cried herself to sleep.

  11

  “Once you've been hurt, it is so hard to get attached again. The fear that it will happen again is what builds the walls around your heart. Unknown

  The days passed in slow motion. Fancy spent most of her time secluded in her house away from family, away from Holy Rock, and avoiding phone calls. Victoria and Tara would not give up trying to reach her. Not knowing what had happened since the last time they were together at the Y, the ladies were quite concerned, especially when she didn’t show up for mid-week or Sunday’s services.

  Victoria sent her a lengthy text message for the millionth time.

  “Fancy, plz tell me what’s going on. Tara and I have been calling and texting but you don’t answer. You weren’t at midweek service or Sunday. Pastor Khalil says you’re taking some time to yourself, but he encouraged us to reach out to you. That tells me something isn’t right. It’s not like you not to respond to me or Tara. No matter what’s going on, we’re ur friends. If it’s something Winston or your ex have done, we can help you get past it. Please answer me.”

  Fancy cried again as she read Victoria’s text but she didn’t reply to it. Victoria and Tara meant well. She knew they did, but she was out of energy, and drained spiritually and emotionally. She read the text over again. Maybe she did need someone to talk to other than Khalil and Xavier. She hadn’t even talked to Stiles, not that he’d called. He was supposed to be returning to Texas the following day, so knowing him like she did, she figured he would call to tell her goodbye before leaving. But the space she was in now, she couldn’t care less if he called to say goodbye or not.

  Winston continued to call and text until Fancy had enough and blocked him. There was absolutely nothing he could
say or do to excuse what he’d done. Just the knowledge alone that he’d conspired with Hezekiah for God knows what reason was enough to be done with him. The only reason she could come up with for Hezekiah to pay him to get to know her and her sons was because of his arrest. He also had said something about Khalil having stolen money from him. What could he have been talking about?

  Fancy called Khalil. “Ma, hey, how you feeling this morning?”

  “I’m okay. I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Go for it.”

  “Hezekiah said you stole money from him—a hundred thousand dollars to be exact. What’s he talking about, Khalil?”

  Khalil cleared his throat. “I have no idea, Ma. Dude is so full of it. I mean, he’s such a liar. What money could I have stolen from him? Guess he’s talking about the fact we busted his behind. And now I’m the one running Holy Rock. He hates that.”

  Fancy listened. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. I’ve been trying to sort things out in my brain. Everything that happened last week has been rough on me. I can’t tell you how betrayed, how violated, and used I feel.”

  “Ma, that’s why me and Xavier told you to do something to get your mind off my father and off that Winston fellow. Why don’t you go out of town for a few days. I bet Victoria would go with you. You’re always saying she likes to travel.”

  “I’m not in the mindset to travel, Khalil. Anyway, I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Ma, wait. Why don’t I come by and pick you up for lunch this afternoon. Stiles is leaving tomorrow and we’re going to go to that spot downtown that just opened. The food is supposed to be super good.” He couldn’t believe he was inviting her to be in Stiles’ company, but things were different. His mother needed a deterrent. Stiles was just the guy to hopefully make her forget her problems for at least a couple hours or so.

  “No, I don’t think so, but tell him I said to have a safe trip. I’ll talk to you later, son. Bye.” She ended the call and then followed up with a call to Victoria.