The McCoys of Holy Rock

by Shelia E. Bell

  “Only he wasn’t her baby, he’s mine!”

  “You’re saying that Stiles is your son?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “Oh, my God,” Pastor said, reeling from what Margaret had just told him.

  “This can’t be true. It’s another one of your elaborate lies,” a shaken Pastor said.

  “Oh, it’s true all right, and it’s also true that you and me have a son. You just don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid I’ll ask you for child support.” She threw her head back in explosive laughter.

  “Child support? Lord, have mercy. What is wrong with you?”

  Margaret stopped laughing and started talking again as if Pastor had said nothing. “Our son is forty-one years old, so coming back to Memphis is like an anniversary to me. It’s time to bring everything out in the open. I’m not getting any younger. I don’t want to die with secrets untold. I need to tell both of them the truth.”

  “Lord, God, help us,” Pastor cried out, trying to control his breathing and regain his composure.

  “She stole my baby! Now it’s time for me to stop hiding like I’ve been the one that was wrong. I want both of my sons to know th I know it’s going to be hard on them. They may even hate me. They may not want anything to do with me. But I have to do it. It’s not fair to them or to my grandchildren.

  “Both of your sons? If everything you’re saying is true, then tell me where my kid is. Is he still in Chicago?”

  “No, he’s here.”

  “Here? Here as in Memphis?”

  “Yes, here as in Memphis, you silly rabbit.” Margaret laughed again and patted Pastor on his shoulder.

  “He came here with you?” Pastor asked, visibly shaken and trying to process everything Margaret told him.

  “Noooo, stop acting like a goofball, Chauncey. He didn’t come with me. He lives here.”

  “He lives in Memphis? Where in Memphis does he live, Margaret?”

  “In one of those suburbs. I forget the name of it. Anyway, you’ll get a chance to meet him tomorrow.”

  “How is that?”

  “Because he’s the Senior Pastor of Holy Rock.

  Pastor felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think straight. It took several seconds before he could speak. “That would mean that Pastor McCoy…is…woman, have you lost your freaking mind?” Pastor stopped talking.

  “Not by a long shot. Only his birth name is Horace. Horace McKellar. I didn’t know he was using an alias until a couple of years ago.”

  “Pastor McCoy…my son? I don’t believe you. You need help, Margaret.”

  “You don’t have to believe me. That won’t change the truth. Anyway, as I was saying. My poor child and that sweet little wife of his got into a bit of trouble some years back.”

  “Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

  “Embezzlement. They served time in prison; six whole years.”

  Pastor rubbed his head from front to back, shaking his head. “My God,” he called out.

  “Don’t pretend like you’re Mr. Perfect. Anyway, when they got released, they wanted a new start. Horace was called to the ministry and their lives just took off from there.”

  “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you’re going to be sorry that you came to me with all of this craziness.”

  Once more, Margaret talked as if Pastor hadn’t said a word. “After he got out of prison, I lost contact with him and Fancy. I didn’t know what happened to my baby until I ran into Tonya’s son one day at the Walmart. He told me that my boy moved to Memphis and was preaching at none other than, you guessed it, Holy Rock. It’s true what folks say; it’s a small world. Anywho, to make this loooong story short,” she said, giggling, “I found my son. I was a little confused to find out that he was no longer going by his birth name. When I contacted him, he swore me to secrecy, but he told me that the whole family had assumed new identities. And I know what you’re going to ask me next. How did they do that if they’re convicted felons? All I have to say is I don’t know how they managed to do it, and frankly, I don’t care. I’m just glad I found my boy again and wouldn’t you know it, that lead me right back to my Stiles, too. I can’t wait to tell them who I am. Thank you, Lord,” Margaret said, raising her hands up, shaking her head. “Thank ya!”

  Pastor couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His whole body tightened. With every word Margaret spoke, his jaw became firmer, his muscles tightened, his heart more eager.

  “My Horace, oops, I have got to stop calling him that. I wouldn’t want to get him in a mess of trouble, you know. Anyway, as I was saying, Chauncey. Our son is a good child. Always has been. He’s just like anybody else. He made some mistakes. But, so have I. You see, after you walked out on us, I had to do what I had to do. And Stiles, my poor baby. I had to stay away or the wicked witch would have sent me back to that terrible place. She would have had me locked up. You know she knows people. Being a witch, she had the power to send me away for good. But she’s gone and I’m back. I just had to wait until the time was right.”

  “Lord, this can’t be happening, and this can’t be true,” Pastor said in a troubling voice.

  “I’m so glad that I didn’t do like you did and walk out our child. I was there for Hezekiah after Tonya died, and I’m still here for him. Now I can be here for both of my children, even if it won’t be for very long. You see, I’m not in the best of health. Got the same kinda cancer Tonya died from. Can you believe that, Chauncey?”

  Chauncey barely shook his head. He was in shock.

  “I don’t know when the good Lord will call me home, so I want to do right by my boys. I want to tell them the truth. Don’t you think it’s ironic that both of my boys ended up being pastors, just like you, and that out of all the churches in this country, in this city, they ended up in Memphis…at Holy Rock. Our son is the senior pastor of the church you founded. Hah, how weird is that? And Stiles was the senior pastor before Hezekiah. Hah, God certainly does have a sense of humor.” Her thin, silky eyebrows rose a trifle, and she let out a long exhalation of relief.

  “Let me ask you something, Chauncey. How could you take my Stiles and raise him as your own and leave poor Hezekiah, your blood, out in the cold? How could you do that to me all over again? You’re not a very nice person, Pastor Chauncey Graham. Not a very nice person at all.”

  With a horrified expression of disapproval, Pastor finally spoke. “I…I…I don’t know what to say, except if Hezekiah is my son, how could you lie to my boy all of these years? How could you give him away to another woman, another man? You kept my son from me, denied me the opportunity to take care of him, to get to know him. If what you’re saying is true, he wouldn’t have gone through any of this mess you’re talking about if you had just let me have him. And Stiles, poor Stiles. How is this going to affect him? They didn’t get the chance to grow up together, to know each other as brothers. You robbed them. You want to blame this on me and Audrey, but you’re the blame!” Disbelief, rage, and frustration were evident in the tone of his voice. “You’re still the same lying, selfish, vindictive, revengeful woman you were back then. And you want to sit here and act like you’re the victim.”

  “You can say what you want about me. For once, I don’t care. This is not about you, Chauncey. For once, it…is…not…about…you. This time tomorrow, my sons will know everything. Yes, everything will be just perfect. Now, please, take me back to the church. I’m hungry again.”

  ‡

  Returning home that evening after the explosive meeting with Margaret, Pastor couldn’t tell Josie what Margaret shared. He needed time to digest everything for himself, to analyze it and determine if all of what she said could be true. He told Josie he was going to do some last minute studying in preparation for his presentation at church the following day. She understood, and Pastor retreated to his home office to ponder over everything that Margaret had revealed.

  He mindles
sly paced across the hardwood floors in a devouring gulf of despair. My son is Hezekiah McCoy? Audrey is Margaret’s sister? Stiles is Margaret’s son?

  Could everything she told him be true? And Audrey, what kind of woman had he been married to for all those years? If Audrey really did take Stiles as her own, then she was just as crazy as Margaret. This was like a daytime soap opera at its finest and Chauncey had a lot to think about. How would this revelation affect Stiles and Francesca? More importantly, how would it affect Hezekiah and Holy Rock? Pastor was beside himself with worry. He rested his head in his hands, closed his eyes, and prayed to God for direction, guidance, and forgiveness.

  13

  I know they say there are a lot of fish in the sea, but you're my Nemo. Unknown

  Khalil was impressed. From the outside alone, the house looked twice as big as his parents' house. He walked up to the door, rang the doorbell, and waited. It didn't take long before the door opened and he was greeted by a woman who introduced herself as Priscilla. She ushered him inside, through the foyer, and into a space he assumed was the family room.

  Priscilla offered him a seat and asked him if she could get something for him like water, soda, tea or something stronger. He declined.

  After sitting alone in the welcoming family room for about five minutes, Dee appeared. She looked stunning, even better than when he first met her. Khalil swallowed hard.

  "Hi, I’m sorry. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," she said as she walked into the family room. For the first time, Khalil noticed that something was wrong with her right arm and hand. It dangled closely to her body. It wasn't that he was annoyed or turned off by it, it was just his observation.

  He walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek. "You're worth waiting for," Khalil said and smiled.

  Dee smiled in return.

  “This is a nice layout you got here,” Khalil complimented as he allowed his eyes to roam the circumference of the spacious room.

  “Thanks,” she said as she led him to the wraparound sofa and they sat down. “Can I get you something to drink or eat?” she asked.

  “No, uh, Priscilla already offered. Is she your mom?”

  Dee laughed. “No, she’s my live-in personal assistant.”

  “Dang, must be nice,” Khalil said. “What line of work are you in?”

  “I do some consulting and interior design on occasion. I used to be a nutritionist, but that was in another life.” She laughed.

  “Cool. Well, look you know, I told you I can’t hang long this evening. I’ve already had a long day and I still have another obligation early tomorrow that was already in place this weekend. But I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to spend a little time with you, find out where you live, and get to know you a little better.”

  “That’s nice of you. So, what do you do for a living?” Dee asked.

  “I work in the church.”

  “In the church? Please don’t tell me you’re a preacher,” Dee said and laughed. “Although it would explain this early obligation you have tomorrow.”

  “Would that be so terrible?”

  “Uhhh, no, not really. I guess it might help me earn a few brownie points with the man upstairs,” Dee said and pointed upward toward the tall ceiling. “I sure could use a little divine favor right about now.”

  “Well, let me ease your pretty little mind. I am not a preacher. I’m a youth director.”

  “Youth director, huh? Interesting.”

  “Yeah, it can be quite interesting. And having my father as senior pastor adds a whole other dimension to it, you know.”

  “Soooo, a preacher’s kid. Umm, this might be fun,” Dee said.

  “How is that?”

  “Ohhh, nothing. But just so you know, I’m not into the church scene. I’ve had my share of going to church Sunday after Sunday or Wednesday night after Wednesday night for Bible study and mid-week praise. Uggh. I mean, enough already,” Dee griped.

  “Sounds like you and God have some beef.”

  “Not really. It’s just that I’ve been there done that. I don’t have anything against anyone for their beliefs or practices. I’m just talking about myself.”

  Khalil noticed again that she didn’t use her right arm. It was just lying against her body.

  “I heard that. Hey, if you don’t mind me asking…”

  Before he could complete his sentence, Dee spoke up. “I was in a car accident and lost the use of it,” she snapped, casting her eyes downward.

  Khalil pushed back. “Whoa, sorry. I just noticed that you weren’t using it at all. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “No, I’m the one who should say, sorry. I just get so tired of all the questions and stares from people, and I was wondering when you were going to mention it.

  “Well, you answered me and I’m good with that. So, on to the next question.”

  Dee looked agitated again. “What is it?”

  “What do you say about me and you going out to grab a bite to eat.”

  Dee relaxed, exhaled and smiled. “But you said you couldn’t stay long.”

  “And I can’t, but a man’s got to eat doesn’t he? And I’ve only had the equivalent of bird’s food today.”

  “That sounds good, or if you like, I can ask Priscilla to prepare us something or go get us some take out.”

  “I don’t want to put you or her through all of that. I’d rather the two of us just go grab something. We’ll save the in house meal for a more suitable occasion,” Khalil said.

  “Okay, let’s do it,” Dee replied.

  Khalil stood, extended his hand out toward hers, and helped her to her feet.

  “Let me go get my purse, and I’ll be ready,” she told him. This might work. This might work after all, Dee thought as she dashed out the room.

  ‡

  Khalil and Dee dined at a popular east Memphis Mexican restaurant. They communicated easily. He made her laugh and she made him want to get to know her better – much better.

  While dining,

  the age discussion came up. Khalil learned that Dee was sixteen years his senior, but they both made it clear that age was not a factor.

  Dee confessed that she had been married before, and had a son, which again didn’t bother Khalil one way or the other. She liked the fact that he seemed to be such an easygoing guy, but with a mature roughness around the edges that turned her on.

  “You never said the name of the church you work at. Is it the same church where your father is the pastor?”

  “Yes, my father is my boss. But it’s all good. He allows me to have free reign when it comes to implementing youth programs and activities. I want the young people who participate in our youth programs to look at Holy Rock as a haven. Somewhere they can come and hang out, get involved in sports, arts, stay away from gangs, learn technology all in one place. Know what I mean?”

  “Hold up. Did you say Holy Rock? Are you talking about the Holy Rock where Stiles Graham was the senior pastor? That Holy Rock?”

  “Yep, you got it. Have you been there before?” Khalil asked.

  “Uh, yes. I used to, well I used to belong there.”

  “Ummm, is that right?” Khalil looked intrigued. “You’re no longer a member?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m sure my name was scratched off the church role a long time ago.” She laughed. “You want to hear something funny?”

  Khalil nodded. “Sure.”

  “I was the first lady of Holy Rock.”

  He swiped his forehead and cleared his throat. “Come again?”

  “I was the first lady of Holy Rock,” she repeated.

  “You’re joking right?”

  “No, I’m not joking. It’s the truth.”

  “You.” He pointed at her. “You were the first lady? Ohhkay, but…how…who were you married to?” Khalil stammered.

  “Stiles Graham. Small world, isn’t it.”

  “Pastor Graham is your husband?”

  “Correction. Ex-husb
and,” Dee clarified.

  Khalil shrugged, picked up his glass of water, and took a big gulp. “Oh well, guess his loss is my gain.” He laughed and then without warning, he leaned over and kissed Dee on her lips.

  ‡

  As if on special cue, Stiles entered the restaurant. The food at the banquet was superb, but it only kept the hunger panes at bay for a short time. His plan was to go to Pastor’s house and hang out for a while, but he changed his mind after Pastor complained about being exhausted and still having to go over his speech for tomorrow’s service. He enjoyed good Mexican food and he googled and found this restaurant was close to his hotel. He planned to order his food to go, then go to his hotel room, eat, and crash.

  He perused the menu for a short while then made his order. He sat down at one of the booths and began toying with his phone. He texted Kareena to see how things were going with her and to tell her about the banquet, and his conversation with ex-wife number one.

  A mariachi band appeared and began to entertain the crowd with song and dance moves. Stiles looked up from his phone. He couldn’t believe who he saw sitting at a booth on the other side of the restaurant. It was Detria. At first a knot formed in his throat as he felt mounting anger and resentment. He quickly began to talk to himself. He had asked God to forgive him for his former actions, had asked Rena to forgive him, too, and promised that he would try to be a better person. The only way he felt that would happen was if he let go of the things that lay behind and move forward to the things in front of him.

  Detria was laughing and talking to a guy who Stiles just assumed was her boyfriend. For a split second, hearing her laugh reminded him of the Detria he fell in love with.

  The guy at the table stood up, said something to her, and then proceeded to walk in Stiles’ direction. As the man walked past his booth, Stiles recognized him. It was one of Hezekiah’s sons. At least that’s who he strikingly resembled. Stiles hadn’t gotten the chance to officially meet Hezekiah’s boys, although this was no boy.