Selling My Soul

by Sherri L. Lewis

  She swallowed her fish and asked, “If I don’t believe it, but I say it just to make you happy, does it count?”

  I shook my head. “You have to believe it.”

  She shrugged and pushed the fish around in the Styrofoam carton. “Well, I’ll say the words if it makes you happy. But . . .”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Moms.” I reached over to grab one of her French fries, but she smacked my hand.

  “I told you to go get your own.” She smiled and pushed the plate over toward me. “Come on here and eat so you can put some meat back on those hips. My poor son-in-law. How old did you say he was?”

  “I didn’t.” I grabbed a few fries and drowned them in ketchup.

  “Well?” Mom took another small bite of fish and pushed a large filet toward my side of the food carton. She wasn’t eating hardly anything at all, and I wondered if she’d sent me to get the food just to force me to eat. “You better get you some of this here fish before it’s gone. Come on, Tree. Name, age, looks, money, give me the facts. Is he good in bed?”

  “Moms!” I smacked her hand. “You know I didn’t sleep with him.”

  She grunted. “Chile, you better test the car out before you buy it. You gotta make sure it can shift into high gear and run fast for a while without running out of gas.” Moms pushed an imaginary gearshift and made some vroom noises.

  “Moms!” I sat there with my mouth wide open.

  “What? You better give me some details or I’m gonna keep embarrassing you.”

  I gave Moms the same basic rundown I had given Monica. She wasn’t as easily satisfied. “Has he been married before?”

  I nodded.

  She grunted. “What happened? How long has he been divorced? How long was he married? Did he leave her? Has he ever cheated on a woman before?”

  “I think I liked it better when you couldn’t breathe well enough to talk.”

  Moms pointed a threatening finger at me.

  I broke off a piece of fish and dipped it in tartar sauce. “He got married about ten years ago when he first moved to Africa. He and this girl met over there in the missionary training school and fell in love and got married within six months of being there. She couldn’t handle the life, though. She wanted to move back to London where she was from, but he felt called to stay in Africa. She left, telling him she would be back, but never came back. She said she couldn’t live the third world life and that she had missed God when she thought she was called to be a missionary. Broke his heart. He stayed over there all those years and hadn’t met anyone else. Until me.” I smiled a little when I said that.

  “Well that ain’t gon’ work, then. It would be the same problem,” Moms said. Then she stared at me, eyes narrowed. “Unless . . . Tree, you planning on going back over there?”

  I shrugged and dipped another piece of fish in the tartar sauce. My stomach would give me a fit later for eating all the fried food, but it was too good.

  “You are. I can see it in your eyes. Well, now . . .”

  “Not anytime soon. But eventually. I feel like it’s what I’m supposed to do.”

  “Then you do that, chile. Do whatever it is that makes you happy.” She nibbled on another French fry. She looked exhausted.

  I wanted to tell her to get some rest, but I knew she wouldn’t leave me alone until I finished telling her about Gabe.

  “So when do I get to meet him?”

  “He’s still in Africa.”

  “Then tell him to get on a plane and come meet his mother-in-law before she kicks the bucket. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “You’re right. He wouldn’t. In fact, I better call back and leave a message. When we got here and you looked so bad, I called over there and left a message for him to come. Since you’re okay, I need to call and leave a new message.”

  “No, let him come. I need to lay eyes on him so I can have my peace before I die.”

  “Moms, please stop saying that.”

  “I’m just trying to help you get prepared for it. I know it hurts, but I gotta keep saying it so it won’t be so bad for you when it happens. I think Tiffany is finally dealing with it. Which is why she won’t come see me no more.”

  I looked up at Moms and started to say something in Tiffany’s defense, but she held up a hand to stop me. “I know my girls, Tree. She ain’t strong like you. She’s dealing with it the best way she know how.”

  My cell phone rang again. It was Blanche again. I’d had enough. I snatched the phone open. “What Blanche?” I knew it sounded harsh, but she knew I hated intrusions on Sunday.

  “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you all evening.”

  “I’ve had a family emergency.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but there’s a work emergency that’s unfolding as well. Have you watched the news at all today?”

  “No.”

  “How can you call yourself a public relations professional and you haven’t watched the news all day. Turn on a television and call me back, Trina.” She hung up.

  I let out an aggravated breath.

  “Everything okay, Tree?” Moms leaned back against the bed. I guessed she decided not to worry about the tube.

  I nodded and picked up the remote. “Yeah, just some aggravating work stuff. Apparently I need to watch the news.” I turned the television on and looked at my watch. The six o’clock news would be on in ten minutes. I would keep it muted until I saw what Blanche was in an uproar about. It would’ve been too easy for her to tell me herself.

  We sat there in silence for a few minutes, and I finished off the food. Moms wiped her hands on the towel I handed her. “By the way, I called my insurance company to try to make some payment arrangements, and they told me the account was paid in full. Thank you, baby. You know I don’t like the thought of you taking care of me, but it also helps for me to have some peace about it. Part of me wants to just stay home and die to get it over with and not cost you no more money, but I feel like there’s something I need to stay around a little longer for.” She took a sip of the water I gave her. “Probably to meet my son-in-law.” She winked at me and handed me the cup.

  “I promise, though, when I do go, you’ll get all your money back and more. I got a nice insurance policy set up for you girls. Of course, all the money will go to you, and you have to give Tiffany money here and there as needed. You can’t give that girl no whole bunch of money at one time.”

  I listened to my mother make her plans out of respect, still planning on laying hands on her and praying for her after she went to sleep. I wasn’t about to let her go that easy.

  “One more thing, Tree. Me and my oncologist talked a few weeks ago, and I signed this paper that if something happened, I don’t want them putting me on no machines or nothing to keep me alive. When my time comes, let me go. They can do things like pull off fluid and put these durn tubes in my back like today if it’s a small problem that just needs a little fixing. But when something big happens, I need you to be strong and let me go. Okay?”

  I nodded and squeezed her hand. “Okay, Moms. Please, enough for today. Let’s make a deal. I won’t talk about Jesus, and you stop talking about dying.”

  She patted my face. “Okay, baby. That’s a good deal for the rest of today.” We shook on it.

  I looked up at the TV and saw Deacon Barnes face plastered on the screen. The caption read: New evidence may lead to easy conviction. I grabbed the remote and turned up the television to hear the report.

  “A mother has come forward claiming to have hard evidence proving her son was sexually abused by Raymond Barnes, a deacon at Washington DC’s Love and Faith Christian Center. Thus far, Mr. Barnes has been accused of molesting eighteen boys at Love and Faith. Several of them on church grounds. Police have not yet released specific information about this mother’s claims, but we have reason to believe that if her proof is as convincing as she claims, the DA will move for a quick trial and conviction in this ca
se.”

  Deacon Barnes’s picture was replaced by Pastor Hines’s.

  “The other suspect in this church sex scandal is the pastor of Love and Faith’s Alexandria, Virginia church. Clarence Hines has been accused of molesting five boys. Police and the DA’s office are working around the clock to continue to uncover information about the allegations . . .”

  My cell phone rang. I answered it without looking at the caller ID. “Okay, Blanche, I saw it.”

  “Do you know anything about this?”

  “No. Doesn’t sound like the press knows much about it either.”

  “Well, you need to get on it. See what you can find out. Talk to the Bishop, and see if he knows anything. Have you called him yet?”

  “Blanche, I just finished watching the news segment when you called.”

  “Trina, I don’t have to tell you what to do. Get to it.” She hung up the phone.

  I stepped out of Moms’s room into the hallway to call her back. When she answered her phone, I said, “Blanche, this is not a good time. I’m in Baltimore. At the hospital with my mother. She’s . . . sick.”

  “How sick?”

  “What?” I stared at the phone. “What kind of question is that? Sick enough to be in the hospital.”

  “How long is she going to be in there? Trina, you know what can happen over the next few days. We don’t need to let this get away from us.”

  “Blanche, my mother has lung cancer. She almost died today, drowning in her own fluid. The doctors had to drain almost two liters of bloody liquid off her lungs, and she has a huge tube coming from her back hooked to a suction device on the wall to keep the fluid from backing up in her lungs again. Is that sick enough for you to leave me alone for the rest of the day?”

  “Sorry, Trina. I’m sorry to hear about your mother.” She was silent for a second. “Don’t you have a sister that can take care of all that?”

  I hung up the phone.

  Before I could walk back into Moms’s room, my phone rang again. I didn’t recognize the DC number, but answered it in case it was Tiffany calling from someone’s phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Ms Michaels?” I recognized Bishop Walker’s voice. “Blanche Silver gave me your cell phone number. Have you seen the news today?”

  Nineteen

  I grabbed my temples. Could this day get any worse? “Hello, Bishop Walker. Yes, I just finished watching the news.”

  “What should I do?” He sounded nervous.

  “Nothing yet. There’s not enough information to even worry about making a statement. If anyone contacts you, just say you don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Can you figure out what’s happening? Isn’t there anyone you can talk to so you can get more information before the whole story comes out in the press? I want to be prepared.”

  “Is there something you need to tell me, Bishop? Something you know that you haven’t bothered to share? No need to keep any secrets from me. You have no reputation to protect as far as I’m concerned.” I know you’re pure evil through and through.

  He hesitated for a second, letting me know he had at least one secret he wasn’t trying to share. Probably more.

  “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything, Bishop. It’s just like a lawyer trying to defend a criminal. If some surprise information comes out during the trial and the lawyer didn’t know, he doesn’t have an opportunity to prepare a defense for his client. If you know something, you should tell me. Now would be a good time, so I can prepare for it.”

  “No, there’s nothing to tell.” He said it too quickly. I knew he didn’t completely trust me to keep his dirty little secrets. As well he shouldn’t. One word from Monnie, and I would spill everything so fast his head would swim.

  “Well, if that’s all then, Bishop, I need to go. I’m in Baltimore at the hospital with my mother. I’ll make some calls, but I may be out of pocket for the next few days. She was deathly ill when we arrived at the emergency room today.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Please know I’ll be praying for her. You know God is faithful to heal her.”

  I chuckled. “Don’t bother to pray, Bishop. You and I both know it wouldn’t do any good.” It was amazing that he was so used to saying the right thing at the right time, even though he didn’t mean it. I guessed it was a preacher reflex.

  “Well, then, Ms. Michaels. I’ll be expecting to hear from you as soon as you know something.”

  It was weird, this amicable animosity we shared. Being pleasant for the sake of it, but both being willing to do whatever we had to do to take the other out at a moment’s notice should the need or occasion arise.

  I walked back into Moms’s room. She had changed the channel. She patted the edge of the bed, and I sat down next to her. “Everything okay, Tree?”

  I nodded. “I’m good.”

  “You took your old job back so you could pay for my health insurance and bills?”

  I nodded.

  “You have to make that man look good because you’re trying to take care of me?” Moms grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her.

  “It’s not like that, Moms. It’s—”

  “Call the doctor to take this tube out. I’m going home to die. There’s no way I’d let you do that for me. No wonder you can’t sleep and you losing more weight than when you was in Africa. Tree, you know I’d never want you to do anything like that for me. I know you love me, baby, but I wouldn’t want you to sell your soul to the devil when I’m gon’ die anyway.”

  She reached around her back, trying to grab the tube. I grabbed both her hands. “Stop it, Moms. Have you lost your mind?”

  “No, you have. You know I wouldn’t want you to do anything like that. Let me go. When you get so grown to be manhandling me?” She tried to wrestle her hands out of mine, but I was too strong for her in her weak and tired state.

  “Old lady, if you don’t stop it, I’m gonna tell the nurse you’re agitated and make her give you some drugs to make you behave. Is that what you want?”

  She stopped struggling with me. “What I want is for my daughter to have some peace. Baby, just let me die, and you go on back to Africa and marry that angel man. Forget all this here and go where you can be happy. That’s what I want.”

  I put my arms around her gently, so as not to disturb the tube. “Moms, I love you. I can’t let you go without my best fight. I can’t imagine my life without you. I need you at my wedding. I need you there when I have my first baby. And my second baby. I can’t let you die.” I let the tears flow down my face.

  She pressed her face against my cheek, mixing her tears with mine. “Tree, baby. Death is a part of life. I’m making peace with it. I wish you could too.”

  “I can’t, Moms. Not when I know you don’t have to die. I’ve seen miracles. If you would just let me pray for you.”

  She pulled back and kissed my forehead. “Tell you what, when I die, you pray, and let God raise me from the dead. If I wake up, I promise the first words out of my mouth will be ‘Jesus, save this poor black soul.’”

  I laughed and kissed both her cheeks. “Deal, Moms.” We shook on it. I hoped that was an indication she would soften and let me pray for her before it got to that point.

  “Now you call that lady back, and tell her you’re quitting that job.” Moms folded her arms and stared me down.

  “I can’t do that. I promise I have a reason other than the money.”

  “Does it have anything to do with Monica?” She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t ‘huh’ me. I saw Monica’s face that day when we was watching it on the news, and then you jumped up and turned the television off and wrapped that skirt around my head. I ain’t crazy. You got to wake up pretty early in the morning to get something over on this old bird.”

  I laughed.

  “See, that’s what I don’t understand, Tree. You expect me to believe that God can heal me of cancer, but you can’t believe Him t
o provide for you well enough that you wouldn’t have to take this job that’s sucking the very life out of you. I mean, if He can raise me from the dead, surely He could get you a decent job where you ain’t got to shake hands with the devil every day. You Christians don’t make no sense to me.”

  I felt like Moms punched me in the stomach. I sat there for a few minutes not knowing what to say.

  My cell phone rang. I recognized Tiffany’s number and answered it. “Tiffy, where are you?”

  “I’m at Stacy’s. I got your message. Is . . . is Moms okay?” Her voice sounded funny. Thick.

  I frowned. “She’s okay now, but it got crazy for a second there. Are you on your way up here?” I looked at Moms, wishing I hadn’t asked Tiffany that in front of her, just in case she said no.

  “I can’t get no ride, Sissy. Moms is okay? Is she . . .”

  The way Tiffany slurred the word Sissy let me know what was going on. “Tiffy, are you . . . what have you and Stacy been up to today? You didn’t come home last night.” I looked over at Moms.

  I started to get up and leave the room to give Tiffany a good tongue lashing, but Moms grabbed the phone out of my hand. “Tiffany, it’s your mother. I’m doing just fine, thank you so much for asking. Still alive enough to beat your tail for whatever it is that got your sister lookin’ like she seen a ghost. What’s wrong with you? Where were you all night? Better not be laying up under some man.”

  Moms listened to Tiffany for a few seconds then her eyes flew open. “You drunk? You been drinking, girl? I oughta get out this bed right now, get in the car and come down there and beat some sense into you. You done lost your mind?”

  I had to push Moms back down into the bed and point to the tube to remind her she needed to be still. I tried to grab the phone away from her, but she pushed my hand away. “What is wrong with you? I didn’t raise my girls to be no alcoholics or drug addicts. You think I worked hard all them years for this? Let me tell you something. You better—”