“Ma, the nurse said she would let us know when the doctor finishes working with him. I’m sure she’s going to keep her word. Now, please, just be cool. Okay?” Khalil wrapped his arm around his mother’s shoulder and she laid her head against him.
“Ma, I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” she asked Xavier who was texting and standing to the side of where she was seated.
“Uh, to the bathroom.”
“Okay,” Fancy responded. “Don’t be walking up and down these hospital corridors, Xavier.”
“I won’t, Ma,” he answered without bothering to look at his mother. He continued texting as he walked out of the waiting room. Stepping into the corridor, he walked past the men’s bathroom and went to the elevators farther down the hallway.
He pushed the Down button, and got on when the doors opened. Once downstairs in the lobby, he went outside and stood in the brisk night air. The moon was full and the air blowing against him sent a slight chill.
“What’s up,” he said after he dialed the number and Raymone answered.
“You said your dad’s in the hospital?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. They think he may have had a stroke. The doctors are still working on him. I guess he’ll be alright, at least I hope he will. What are you up to?”
“Nothing. Still on this game. How long are you going to be at the hospital?”
“I don’t know. Probably until they tell my mom something. Anyway, I’ll hit you back when I hear something. I told my mom I was going to the bathroom. I don’t want her to send a squad after me. You know whudda mean?”
“Yeah, I hear ya. Text me and let me know what’s up.”
“Fa sho. Talk to you later.” Xavier ended the call and put the phone in his pocket before turning to go back into the building.
“Hey, good looking,” someone suddenly said.
Xavier looked up and saw an equally handsome young man who looked to be a few years older than him. Still shy and reserved about his sexuality, Xavier grew nervous and disregarded the guy. This was not the first time that another man had openly flirted with him. Xavier didn’t understand it. Could other men or people detect he was gay? If so, how? He heard about gaydar or gay detectors where some people had the ability, or so they said, to tell just by looking at another person whether that person was gay or not. He was not openly flamboyant but was reserved and kept to himself. For that guy or any other guy to feel like they could call him good looking or ask for his number, made him a little uneasy. He wondered if his brother suspected anything or his mother and father for that matter. Maybe they did but chose not to say anything. He arrived back at the elevator and returned to the waiting room. His brother and George were still there. Khalil’s head was buried in his phone.
“Where’s Mom?” Xavier asked.
“The nurse came and took her to see Dad.”
“How is he?”
“I don’t know. They still haven’t said.”
“No need to worry. He’s going to be fine,” George assured the boys. “Pastor McCoy would want you to look after your mother, make sure she’s okay, and to pray.”
Khalil nodded in agreement and returned to texting. “Still at hospital. Dad in critical condition.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. u know what happened yet?”
“stroke.”
“u want me to come to the hospital to be with u?” Detria texted back.
“I’m good. hit u up when I lve here.”
“K. I’ll say a prayer.”
Three seventeen a.m. Detria’s doorbell rang in response to an exchange of text messages between her and Khalil.
“Can I come ovr?” he’d texted.
“Yes,” she had replied. Prayer answered, she thought as she closed the text and smiled.
Detria gave herself a touch up of the body parts and hair and now, forty-five minutes later, she shimmied to the front door to greet Khalil.
“Detria, is everything all right? Did I hear the doorbell?” Priscilla asked, standing inside her bedroom door, arms folded, and in her PJs.
“Ummm, can’t believe she woke up,” Detria mumbled to herself. “Yes, sorry to wake you, Priscilla. I have a guest coming.”
“At three o’clock in the morning? Are you sure?”
Detria gave Priscilla an eyebrow shifting, stay-in-your-lane type of look.
Priscilla shrugged her shoulders, tucked her lips. “Goodnight,” she replied and disappeared behind her door.
26
Being sick feels like you're wearing someone else's glasses. Megan Boyle
After a combined month long stay in the hospital and a rehab facility, Hezekiah was discharged but remained unable to walk and talk. He was paralyzed on his left side and his speech was unintelligible. He had a long recovery ahead of him. Doctors informed Fancy that only time would tell if he would get better and be able to walk or talk again.
A CNA came daily to help Fancy take care of him plus several women from Holy Rock volunteered to come assist her as well. Fancy was still a private person so she made sure George had each woman, unbeknownst to them, thoroughly checked out before she allowed them to come into her home. A physical therapist, speech therapist, and occupational therapist came to the house three times a week and once a week Hezekiah was taken to the hospital for therapy.
Fancy was the stand by your man type of woman but Hezekiah’s illness was beginning to take a physical and mental toll on her. She was used to him being in charge and running things, but she knew that he would want her to step up her game to make sure things continued to run smoothly and without problems at home and at Holy Rock. She, and others, thought of her as being smart and ambitious. She was responsible for several successful ministries at Holy Rock, starting with the Marriage Ministry and the Youth and Young Adult Ministry. That’s why she was happy that Khalil wanted to be part of the Y&YA Ministry. Like his mother, he fit in easily and prospered in his position.
Fancy began to talk to herself. When she sat with Hezekiah and saw the sometimes helpless look on his face or the disturbing grunts and struggles to speak, she regained her inner strength, prayed, and then decided that she would reclaim her office at Holy Rock—effective immediately. This was an opportunity for her to step up her game and show his staff and the congregation that Hezekiah had a strong first lady behind him.
Pastor and Stiles had contacted her on more than one occasion to inquire about Hezekiah’s health. She shared little with them. If Hezekiah didn’t want anything to do with them when he was in good health, surely she wasn’t going to let them disrupt him while he was trying to regain his health. Pastor wanted to come to visit him, but Fancy denied him. There was no way she would take the chance of making Hezekiah upset. She told Pastor that he was recuperating fine, but she would rather he keep his distance.
Fancy spent at least four hours a day at Holy Rock. Everything there was to learn, she set out to learn it. Holy Rock finances, church bills, staff duties, salaries, and responsibilities, vendors, whatever was connected to the successful operation of Holy Rock, she was determined to learn about it. When Hezekiah fully recovered, she wanted him to be proud of what she had done.
What made her even more grateful was that her sons, both of them, but especially Khalil were right by her side, supporting her all the way. Khalil often accompanied her to staff meetings, outside engagements with vendors, going over reports, the whole kit and caboodle. He was game. Because of him, the youth ministry was growing by leaps and bounds and for now it seemed everything he and his mother touched, prospered.
As week after week continued to pass, George grew increasingly on edge. He had become accustomed to his side bonuses from Hezekiah. He watched from the sidelines but with a perfect view, at Fancy and the way she handled Hezekiah’s affairs. It led him to believe that she might already know that he and Hezekiah had an arrangement. From being around the couple, George surmised that Fancy
McCoy was the only person Hezekiah trusted. It was time to enlighten her about him and her husband’s arrangements, because, like Hezekiah, Fancy had just as much to lose if he told everything he knew about their past, Hezekiah’s hands in Holy Rock’s cookie jar, his mistress, and of course, their gay son.
Fancy sat in Hezekiah’s office scanning and reading over tons of computer files. As his power of attorney, she insisted that she be given access to his personal computer at Holy Rock. Reluctantly, the IT department gave her his login information. Hezekiah maintained at least an eighty-five percent paperless office. She reviewed bank statements, grants, and paid special note to the love offering and tithers aka high rollers of Holy Rock. Time to resurrect her experience about church administration and finance. The more she studied the records, the more she was drawn to look closer. Something was missing. Not being one to give up easily, she continued to dig.
She spent time every evening, when she got home, talking to Hezekiah about what she did every day at Holy Rock. She asked him questions about many of the things she found in his office and on his computer. Though he couldn’t speak, he could nod or shake his head and grunt. His answers most often were strained, with a pleading look in his dark eyes. He would sometimes manage to get a word out, but ninety nine percent of the time, it was darn right impossible to understand him.
One evening, at home, after a relatively unusually short, uneventful day spent at Holy Rock, she stood inside their master closet sorting through items of clothing that she wanted the housekeeper to have sent out for dry cleaning. She pulled out a few of her clothes and then proceeded going through Hezekiah’s things. She felt in his pockets to make sure wads of tissue, loose change, or any other items were not stuffed inside. Sure enough, two pair of suit pants had tissue inside, an indication of Hezekiah’s ongoing occasional sinus problems. As she removed a suit coat off its hanger, she heard a jingling sound and immediately threw the coat down on the floor and hopped back because the sound reminded her of a rattlesnake. She laughed at herself for being so over dramatic and scary. Picking up the jacket, a set of keys fell onto the floor, the obvious culprit of the strange noise.
Looking at the keys, she toyed with them in her hand. They did not look familiar. After gathering the clothes and putting them inside a bag for the housekeeper, she laid the keys on the nearby chest of drawers. When she went to sit with Hezekiah, she would take them with her to see if he could give her an indication as to what they went to.
Taking the keys and showing them to Hezekiah ended up being another worthless cause because he could tell her nothing. She noticed a glimmer of frustration in his eyes when she showed them to him. He did nod his head up and down when she asked him if he recognized the keys. She asked him if the keys went to a particular desk or box at Holy Rock, he shook his head no. After a series of questions to determine what the keys went to, she gave up as her own frustration mounted.
She exhaled. “Don’t worry, baby,” she said, patting him on his hand and leaving the keys on the bed. “It’s no big deal. If something needs to be unlocked or checked, it’ll just have to wait until you’re all better. Maybe this will be a small incentive for you to keep improving so you can get back to your pastoral duties, and your husband duties, too,” she said, smiling sheepishly.
Hezekiah nodded, grunted, and moved anxiously in the hospital bed.
“Okay, okay. I didn’t mean to get you all aroused, settle down there,” she continued flirtatiously. She stood up and kissed him on his lips, and squeezed his hand. “I’m going to go check on dinner. We’re going to have one of your favorites – spaghetti and meatballs. I’ll be back later, sweetheart.”
When Fancy attempted to leave, Hezekiah grunted again and again. The more he tried to talk the more agitated he became when nothing came from his lips.
“What is it, Hezekiah? Are you in pain?”
“Unn.” Hezekiah shook his head from side to side, this time with a little force.
Fancy’s expression took on a serious and concerned look. She removed her phone from her pant pocket and looked at the time. Then she looked at the sheet the nurses used to track Hezekiah’s meds and the times they’d been administered.
“I see you haven’t had your anxiety meds for the evening.”
Hezekiah looked angry as his brows furrowed and he pounded his good hand on the bed.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ll give you one now.” She went into the small dorm like refrigerator that was set up in his room, and pulled out a pint of bottled water. She got his pills off the nightstand and took two from the bottle. “Here, take these,” she said but Hezekiah turned his head.
“Hezekiah, come on. You don’t have to lay up here feeling anxious and in pain. Now, come on. Take them,” she insisted. “If you don’t take your meds I’m going to be forced to have the nurses give it to you a shot or intravenously. I know you don’t want that.”
Hezekiah relented and did as he was told, hoping that it would make her leave him alone.
“Now, get some rest.” She picked up the remote from off the bed and flipped the channel to TBN, then laid it back where he could reach it. “I’ll be back later with your dinner. I love you,” she said, then turned to exit the guest room that she had set up specifically to accommodate her husband and his needs.
Hezekiah looked down and to his right and saw the keys lying right by his good hand. He managed to get them and push them in the trash can next to his bed. God, heal me, he said in his mind. Deliver me from this paralyzed body. I have too much left to do and too many skeletons I need to keep from coming out.
Living in a state such as he was made Hezekiah all the more anxious about his life and future. So many thoughts raced through his mind while lying helplessly in that bed, but he had no way of communicating his needs and wants. With everything that had happened in his life over the past months, he felt drained. Maybe it would be better if he just gave up the ghost and left this world of trouble all behind. But how could he even do that when he couldn’t move or speak? Even if he wanted to commit suicide, he couldn’t. Was this what life for him was destined to be? Hezekiah cried and a flurry of tears poured down his cheeks.
He pretty much knew everything that was going on at Holy Rock, well everything that Fancy told him. George had come to see him on several occasions and each time all he ever talked about was getting paid. Hezekiah realized that the man was not concerned about him or his well-being in the least. It was all about the money for George. Not that it surprised Hezekiah, because George was ready to destroy his life if he didn’t pay him what he demanded. It would mean nothing to him if Hezekiah died.
One thing Hezekiah was proud of was the fact that Fancy and Khalil were determined to keep hold of the reigns of Holy Rock. Listening to Fancy sharing with him the details of what was going on at the church, who was doing what, and going so far as to show him reports and data about the church meant more than they would ever realize. He just hoped that Fancy didn’t dig too deep and find out that he was pocketing tens of thousands of dollars from the church. And those keys Fancy found. That was another source of contention because if she found out what they went to, it would lead to his demise. Somehow, someway he had to regain his movement and his speech. He told himself to work even harder with the therapists. He needed a breakthrough in his health soon and real soon before the walls of lies and deceit came tumbling down.
27
Three things cannot long stay hidden: the sun, the moon and the truth. Buddha
“Mrs. McCoy,” the housekeeper said, reaching inside her apron pocket, and pulling out a set of keys. “I found these in Pastor McCoy’s trashcan when I was cleaning.” She passed the keys to Fancy.
“Thank you, Marcela, I must have unknowingly dropped them in there yesterday. I’m glad you found them!” She accepted the keys and continued walking out the door.
Fancy called Khalil on her cell phone when she got inside her car. “Honey, what time are you going to be at the church?”
> “I should be there no later than ten. I have a stop to make and then I’m headed that way. Do you need me to bring you anything?” he asked.
“No, I’m good. I’m just leaving the house myself. Xavier left for school about an hour ago. I started to ride in with him, but you know how that goes.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t want to be seen in that car with anybody but his friends, or should I say friend, as in the one and only Raymone.” Khalil chuckled into the phone.
“You’re laughing, but that concerns me.”
Khalil continued to laugh. “Why, Ma? ‘Cause he’s not riding girls around?”
“Well, not exactly, but then again, yes. I’m in agreement with your father now. I don’t know why he has to hang around with that boy all the time. He used to have girlfriends when he was younger but now that he’s almost eighteen, he rarely, if ever mentions girls.”
“Just ‘cause you don’t see him with a girl doesn’t mean he isn’t messing around with ‘em. He probably just hasn’t stumbled across one that he really likes. I know they’re all over him at church, so you know they’re all over him at school.”
Fancy sighed. “I guess. And you’re right, it’s probably a good thing he loves his books and that video game more than these hot tail girls running around. I do not want to be a grandmother. I’m too young. And that brings me to you.” Fancy stopped at the traffic light.
“Uhhh, what about me?”
“I hope you aren’t still infatuated with Detria Graham. That woman is bad news.”
“I don’t agree with you on that. She’s actually a nice woman. I like her. I like her a lot, Ma.” Khalil didn’t tell his mother that he had just left from dropping Detria off at her house. She had spent the night with him at his apartment, where he hardly ever spent time anymore. Most evenings, after he left Holy Rock, he would head straight to Dee’s house. She spoiled him in all kinds of ways but her specialty was providing him his favorite dishes and never ending, mind blowing sex. He was definitely smitten by her.
The McCoys of Holy Rock Page 16