Dee was already dressed in her nightgown and robe. She removed her robe and went to the other side of the king bed, got in and pulled the covers over her legs, but she sat in the bed rather than lay down in it. Looking over at Khalil, she didn’t say a word. She heard his light snore and proceeded to put some cover over him. Flooded suddenly with memories of her baby girl’s death, she fought against crying but became overwhelmed thinking about the loss of so many people, but especially Francesca and her husband and Rena’s parents.
She may not have seen eye to eye with Stiles, Pastor, or Rena, but she didn’t wish the pain of losing a loved one on anyone. Eyeing Khalil, she leaned in next to him and kissed him on the side of his head. He didn’t stir. Easing up out of the bed, she went into the bathroom, closed the door behind her, sat on the toilet, and allowed the tears to come. The pain in her heart that she felt for Khalil, for herself, and even for Stiles, was paramount. No amount of discord or dislike for Stiles or his father could make her feel any less sorry for what they must be going through. Francesca’s death must be ripping them apart.
Her thoughts transferred to her own little boy, three year old Elijah. It wasn't often that she saw him or spent any significant time with him. He unofficially lived with his father, Skip, and Skip’s wife, Meaghan. Detria initially fought against Elijah living with his daddy, but in the beginning when she was incapacitated from the car accident, she had to admit that she wasn't the best mother. Her physical challenges limited her ability to care for her son in the manner she desired.
As the boy spent more time with Skip, Elijah preferred being with him more than he did with her. Priscilla told her it was because Elijah had a younger sibling and enjoyed having someone to play with. Detria wasn't buying it. She believed that her little boy simply preferred his daddy over her. She soon came to terms with it and to keep her son happy she let him stay as long as he wanted to stay. He visited her a day or two every month and most holidays, but other than that, it was like Detria didn't have a kid.
Her cell phone rang. She got up off the toilet and went back into the bedroom, taking caution not to awaken Khalil. The phone continued to ring then stopped before she could follow the ring. Next, her house phone rang. She looked at Khalil, and he still hadn't budged. He must really be exhausted, she thought and proceeded to pick up the phone from its base.
"Uggh, the devil himself," she mumbled when she saw it was Skip calling. She pushed the button to answer. "Hello, why are you calling me this time of night?" she whispered as she went back into the bathroom and closed the door. “You must have dialed the wrong number; I am not your booty call.”
"Thank God for small miracles,” he shot back. “Look, Meaghan said that I should call and let you know that we had to take Elijah to the ER.”
"So Meaghan had to tell you to call me? Uggh. Anyway, what happened? Is he okay?" she asked, a little panicked.
"Don't get your panties in a wad. He's fine. He did an awkward flip on the bed earlier this evening, landed on his arm, and broke his wrist. He’s a real trooper. Didn't cry or anything."
"I hope my son is okay. You need to watch him more closely," she chastised Skip.
"Look, I didn't call for all the unnecessary drama. I told you that he's fine. I just wanted to keep you in the loop of what's going on with him."
"Is he asleep?" She figured that he was since it was after midnight.
"Yeah, he's knocked out."
"Call me in the morning so I can talk to him."
"Yeah," he answered drily and then ended the call.
Detria heard the phone go silent so she pushed the End button on her phone. She looked at herself in the mirror. Sometimes she didn't like the person that she had become. So much had happened in her life that she wasn't proud of. Physically abusing Pastor was one, lying about Stiles physically abusing her was another, cheating on him was yet another, not being the best mother she could be to her daughter, and now repeating the same with her son. Her list of mess-ups was endless. Even before then, she used to be manipulative and sneaky. As close as she was to her sister, even Brooke knew little of the stuff Detria had done.
When she first returned to Memphis, setting her eyes on Stiles was another one of her manipulative feats. It paid off for a while, at least, because she got Stiles to fall in love with her and marry her. His mother loved her probably because as Audrey told her, they were two of a kind. They saw what they wanted and refused to stop until they got whatever it was. Detria smiled a bit as she thought about Audrey, but soon her smile was replaced by tears as she started thinking about her failed marriage, the death of her baby girl, and the car accident that left her in constant pain.
After crying for several minutes, Detria washed her face and returned to bed. She nestled against Khalil who turned over toward her and embraced her tightly. Without saying a word, he kissed her on her forehead and his hands traveled the course of her curvaceous body. She reciprocated by kissing him on his lips and performing her own exploration while helping him out of his clothes. Both of them needed a way out, a reprieve from everything going on around them. Dee wanted the memories to stop tormenting her, memories that hadn’t left her alone since Baby Audrey died. Today’s events had taken her back to that awful place of pain and anguish—a place that Khalil would come to know all too well for himself.
Dee lay underneath Khalil. She felt protected, safe, and needed. It didn't matter about their age difference. It didn't matter anymore what other people thought about her. All that mattered was now, this moment in time. Khalil expertly made love to her while she listened to the mounting storm outside and the strong force of winds pounding against her windowpane. All was right in her world and she couldn’t care less about anyone else.
17
Come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream. Euripides
Half past midnight.
Pastor, Josie, and Stiles approached the front door of Pastor's house, all in a state of disbelief. Pastor walked inside the house, shoulders drooped, gait slow and unsteady. His distinguished face was now like a mask of stone. He went into the bedroom and flopped down on the edge of the bed, leaving Stiles and Josie in the front of the house. The sorrow he felt was beyond explanation. Seeing the lifeless bodies of his daughter and Tim would forever be etched in his mind. Then there was David and Meryl Jackson, his longtime friends and Rena’s parents. They were gone forever, gunned down like they were nothing. He felt responsible for the death of his daughter, his son-in-law, his dear friends, and basically everything that had happened. He knew she had mental issues, but never did he think she could do something like this.
The pain he felt caused him to question everything. Why did this tragedy have to happen? He tried to live a life pleasing to God, but somehow he must have failed. Margaret had to show up and revealed his past, a past life that he had tried hard to forget over the years.
Pastor felt guilty now that he looked back over how everything went down. He once loved Margaret, adored everything about her. But during those two years they were together, things quickly began to change. Margaret wasn't the same person anymore. He could do nothing to keep her happy. When he got her pregnant he thought their relationship might have a chance, but then she told him she lost their child, and their relationship died too.
After their final break-up, she left Memphis to go back to Chicago where she was originally from, and he established Holy Rock, a long time desire of his heart. He'd been called to preach God's Word when he was a young buck and always had dreams to pastor his own church. At one time, Margaret promised to stand behind him and support his efforts and for a while, a very short while, she would attend church with him. But it wasn't long before she had a change of heart and stopped going altogether.
The day he first encountered Audrey, she walked into Holy Rock, looking fine as ever. He wondered who she was. There was something so enticing about her that he couldn’t resist. He soon approached her at their church picnic and the rest was history. He gave in to his fl
esh and his heart quickly submitted.
Audrey had mentioned that she had a sister, but explained that they did not share the same mother. She did tell him that her sister was schizophrenic and that they did not have a close relationship or any relationship for that matter. During their years of marriage, Audrey never brought her up again and Pastor didn’t see the need to either. Now, after all these years, the past had come back to haunt him in a way that was unimaginable.
Pastor forced back the thoughts of the past and in its place thoughts of Sunday's horrid events saturated his mind. He swallowed hard, biting his lips to keep the sobs at bay.
Josie entered and stood motionless in front of him. Her voice was fragile and shaking as she spoke. "Pastor, you should try to get some sleep. It’s been a long day. I know it wasn't easy making funeral arrangements, contacting Francesca's friends, and trying to reach out to Rena on top of everything else. But, baby, you have to rest. The next week is going to be tough." She sighed, clasped her slender hands together, and stared at her husband. Tears welled in her eyes.
Pastor looked up at her. A heaviness centered in his chest as he spoke. "I don't know if I can sleep, Josie. I don't know how I'm going to move forward from all of this. It's too much, too much to take." Pastor couldn't hold back any longer; wrenching sobs burst forward like a broken dam.
Josie sat on the bed next to him and tried to console him. Her own tears found their way down her cheeks as grief and despair ripped at her heart. She held Pastor against her chest like he was her child instead of her husband. She rocked him back and forth as he wept and cried out to God for mercy.
18
It's amazing that the heart makes no noise when it cracks. Bliss
Three days had eclipsed since the horrific mass shooting at Holy Rock and Kareena tried calling Stiles again, but like all the previous times, it went to voicemail. She kneeled down and began praying for him and for everyone involved in the horrific tragedy. Stiles had already suffered so much heartbreak and grief in his life. She didn’t know how he would ever recover from this one. If the news was accurate, his sister and brother-in-law were among those killed and also the parents of his first ex-wife. She could not begin to imagine, nor did she want to imagine, the pain he must be going through.
After she finished praying, she stood up and went to the tiny space between the family room and the kitchen that she had transformed into her office. It was the perfect space for the built-in desk, chair, her MacBook, and portable printer.
She went online. News continued to trend about the shootings on social media. She read several stories about what happened before she turned the computer off and retreated to her bedroom.
‡
Stiles heard his father weeping in the other room, but he was not in a position to console him. His own grief tormented him by saturating his thoughts of what they’d all been forced to witness at Holy Rock. Having to help Pastor and Josie make funeral arrangements for Francesca only added to Stiles’ pain.
To think about how perfect things had gone with the banquet and then the Jubilee service, only to have everything torn apart yet again, was more than he could stomach. He didn't know if there would be any coming back this time around. Death seemed to enjoy wreaking havoc in his life. Over the past five years death had claimed so many people near and dear to him. His mother, his only child, now his sister and brother-in-law, and Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. It made no sense. There was no rhyme or reason to anything anymore. He thought about the scripture in Ecclesiastes...there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. He couldn't understand why that passage of scripture would come to mind because he would never believe or accept that this was all part of God's timing. Not the evil that had been perpetrated on innocent people. None of them deserved to be slaughtered.
As he laid back on the bed in the guestroom of his father's house, he questioned his identity. If Margaret was his mother like she claimed, and Audrey took him away from her, then Audrey was not the woman he knew at all. And if Margaret was his mother, he would never get the chance to know the real her because she too, was dead. He was so confused, so messed up in the head.
He looked around the room, the same room he grew up in. Now it felt like a torture chamber because all he seemed to be able to do in this room was cry. His heart was heavy over the thought that in the next few days he would be laying his sister and brother-in-law to rest. Then he would have to travel to Andover to see Rena’s parents laid to rest.
“Rena,” he said aloud. “Oh, my God, what you must be going through.” He searched through his pocket for his phone, pulled it out, and called her. The phone rang until it went to her voicemail. He called again.
“What do you want?”
“Rena, it’s Stiles. I was just checking on you. I’m so sorry, Rena,” he cried. “I’m just so, so, sorry.”
Rena inhaled then slowly released it. “Look, the best thing you can ever do for me is to never ever contact me again. It’s because of you and your family that my parents are dead. It’s always been some type of mess when it’s connected to the Grahams and I hate you, I hate you for everything you’ve ever done to me,” she said, talking slow and low like a zombie.
Stiles mouth hung open. He listened to the words spewing from Rena’s mouth. Her biting words only added more hurt on top of what he was already feeling.
Rena was right in her own way. Maybe her life would be different if he hadn’t stepped into it. Maybe a lot of people’s lives would be better if he or his family hadn’t invaded their space.
“Rena, I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough. I don’t know what else to say. I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you as much as I can be.”
“She doesn’t need you,” the male voice on the phone suddenly interjected. “She has everything she needs. So do like my wife said and stay out of her life,” Robert blared over the phone before ending the call.
Stiles felt lower than low. He hated the fact that Rena blamed him and his family for the death of her parents.
“Lord, help Rena get through this tragic time. Help us all, Father God. We need you. I need you. I’m sorry about all of the pain that I’ve caused in so many people’s lives.”
His cell phone rang in his hand. He looked at it and saw it was Kareena calling. She’d called several times and had texted him too, but he hadn’t responded. His mind was too full of making plans to lay away his sister and brother-in-law. He still had to somehow talk to Hezekiah about the arrangements for Margaret, something he didn’t know if he was up to doing or handling. He had to come to terms with what was happening but so far he hadn’t done well at all. He continued to hold the phone in his hand and right before the last ring, he answered.
“Hi,” he said somberly into the phone.
“Stiles, thank God you answered. How are you?” Kareena asked. You could detect the concern in her voice.
“Not good. Not good at all.”
“I’ve been calling and texting you. I’m so sorry about what happened.”
“Thanks.”
“Look, I was planning to schedule a flight to Memphis. Since you drove there, I know you don’t want to return here by yourself. I mean, under the circumstances and all,” she explained. “I can come, attend the funeral services and then I can help you drive back.”
“Thanks for offering but I can manage. Just ask the church to pray for me and for my family. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. I still have a lot to work out.”
“I hate to ask you this, but have you found out if what that woman said is true? Are you really her son and Pastor McCoy’s brother?”
“I…haven’t had a lot of time to investigate her claims or talk to Hezekiah.
“That’s understandable. I’m praying for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later. I’m about to lay it down, try to rest.”
“Sure, I understand. And you’re right. It’s late. You do need to try and get some rest. I know you have a lo
t going on. Just know that I’m here, Stiles. Please don’t shut me out. Okay?”
“Yea. Goodbye, Kareena.”
Stiles ended the call and then proceeded to scroll through his contacts in search of Hezekiah’s phone number.
Hezekiah lay in the bed next to Fancy. He had finally located Margaret’s remaining next of kin who also lived in Chicago. They were horrified to hear what Margaret had done, and also were stunned when Hezekiah told them about himself and Stiles being her sons. The elderly man and woman he located through numbers in Margaret’s cell phone said they were Margaret’s cousins but they hadn’t seen or heard from her in quite some time. Her parents were dead, which he recalled Margaret telling him before he was carted off to prison. The cousins told him they were on fixed incomes and would not be able to offer financial assistance but would try to attend her funeral if their health permitted. Hezekiah refused to let himself get upset over the obvious disinterest they expressed in seeing Margaret laid to rest.
After her body was released by the coroner, Hezekiah made arrangements to have her flown back to Chicago. Hezekiah and Fancy, along with their sons, would travel up there shortly thereafter to funeralize her. He didn’t bother to share the details with Stiles because he didn’t see a reason to do so. Yes, Margaret said Stiles was her son and his brother, but Hezekiah would have to deal with that truth after he buried her. He had no problem telling Stiles about the arrangements if Stiles came to him. So far that had not been the case.
Hezekiah went to see Margaret in the hospital hours before she passed away. He had a hard time digesting the things Margaret told him on her death bed. He replayed that last conversation over in his head.
The McCoys of Holy Rock Page 10