Strongholds

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  “Oh don’t worry about it. It’s nothing we can’t finish at home if we have to. What do you need?” Pastor Landris looked at his watch. “My next appointment isn’t for another half hour or so.”

  “No, it’s not your next appointment. But there is a woman here. She’s down with Monica right now. She’s an elderly woman who has a bunch of suitcases with her. Quite a few in fact, Monica says.”

  “Is she here looking for money?”

  “No. She says she desperately needs to talk with someone. She seems to be in a pretty bad way. All the other counselors here are already booked. There are a few people I could try to contact, but they wouldn’t be able to come until later this afternoon. I know, Johnnie Mae, you had that one appointment scheduled this morning. I was wondering if maybe you could see her? She’s not a member, but she says she has visited here quite a few times. Her name is Elaine Robertson.”

  Johnnie Mae looked at her watch. It was 1:30 P.M. She needed to be home around three-fifteen, in time to meet Princess Rose’s school bus.

  “I know it’s short notice,” Sherry continued, “and if you can’t do it, I’ll check with—”

  “No, I can see her,” Johnnie Mae said. “I’m here already and not scheduled to meet with anyone else. I should be through in time to pick up my daughter from the bus stop. Sure. Tell Monica to set me up with a conference room and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Thanks. I’ll buzz Monica and tell her you’re on your way.”

  Johnnie Mae turned to Pastor Landris. “Well, God works in mysterious ways, they say. I suppose it was a good thing you and I went to lunch, otherwise I would have been gone by now.”

  “Well, if she’s looking for money, just have Monica buzz Sherry and let her take it from there. We have procedures in place for those type requests. There are a lot of people running church scams these days, trying to figure out how to get money out of various churches.”

  “Okay. Let me get back down there and see what’s going on. And to think—you thought you didn’t need my help.”

  “I never said that,” Pastor Landris said. He stood up and walked Johnnie Mae to the door. She turned around and he gave her a quick peck on the lips as she was leaving. “I’ll see you later,” he said.

  “It will probably be at home tonight. You have appointments until five o’clock, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s still pretty busy around here these days.”

  Johnnie Mae walked slowly out the door. “I think I just may have eaten a little too much chocolate cake,” she said as she stepped outside his office. “I can barely move.”

  Pastor Landris smiled.

  Johnnie Mae walked over to Monica’s desk. “Hi, Monica.”

  “Sister Landris, I have you in Conference Room L: Love ye one another.” Monica lowered her head and began to whisper as she handed Johnnie Mae the file folder she had created for Elaine Robertson. “Her name is Elaine Robertson. She’s not a member here, but she has visited us. I’ve noticed she’s seemed a little upset.”

  “Okay.” Johnnie Mae took the folder and started to walk away. She noticed four pieces of unmatched luggage sitting behind Monica’s work station and came back. “Are all of those suitcases hers?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did she get them up here by herself? They look pretty full…heavy.”

  “Fortunately, when she was coming in, Trent was coming back from lunch. He and another guy helped her with them.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll be back shortly.” Johnnie Mae headed toward the waiting area to get Elaine so they could go on to the conference room.

  The woman, who was Caucasion, was sitting patiently, waiting. It wasn’t unusual lately to see white people attending the church. That was a good thing, since black people have traditionally attended predominantly white congregations, but it appears more difficult to get many white people to cross over in that same type way to black congregations, unless the leader happens to become mega.

  “Ms. Robertson?” Johnnie Mae said with a gentle smile.

  “Yes,” Memory said as she stood to her feet.

  Johnnie Mae walked up to her with her right hand extended. “I’m Johnnie Mae Landris. I’ll be the one you’ll be talking with today.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate being able to see someone on such short notice. I wasn’t sure of the correct procedure to do this, but I just felt God drawing me to come here today and talk with somebody.”

  “Sure. It’s no problem. I’m just glad I happened to still be here today. It’s really booked up these days, and difficult to see daily walk-ins.” Johnnie Mae opened the conference room door. “You may come on in, and we can get started.” She held the door open for Memory, who moved even slower than she usually did.

  Memory looked around the room. She took a seat.

  “Well, Elaine. I’d like to begin by us having a word of prayer. And then when we finish, you can tell me what’s on your mind and your heart. We’ll go from there and see where the Lord leads us.”

  Memory smiled. “Sounds good.”

  They bowed their heads and prayed. When the prayer ended, Memory seemed nervous. Johnnie Mae had learned from this morning to have the box of tissues close at hand as well as the water. She got up while Memory prepared herself to talk and brought both things closer to them.

  “Well, let’s see. Where should I begin?”

  Memory briefly told of her childhood: her parents, getting pregnant, her rebellious period (which lasted longer than it should have). She skipped around and talked about arriving in Birmingham, how she’d wronged so many people over the years.

  “I’ll be seventy years old this year. I’m too old to be doing this same old stuff. I came to this church quite by accident. I really wasn’t trying to attend anyone’s church, actually. I sort of think I was believing the next time I graced a church again would be inside a steel box or whatever they use for coffins these days. But God is always up to something, even when we’ve strayed away from Him.” She spoke slowly and deliberately.

  “I grew up in the church,” Memory continued. “There is a scripture that people quote all the time: ‘Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it.’ That never made sense to me. I’ve seen so many people who have and did depart from it, from what I could see. But sitting here today, I understand it so much more. To train means to mold, to point, to shape something in a certain direction. I think of a bonsai tree. If you mold it, it’s set to grow in a certain direction whether it wants to or not. And I really have done as much as I could to grow in a different direction than the way I was originally trained. But no matter, it’s already been set. I may grow, but I will grow in the direction I was trained early on to grow in. Regardless of how wide or how tall I try to go.”

  Memory began to cough. Johnnie Mae poured her some water and waited as she sipped it slowly.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Memory said. “Just old, tired, and a little worn for wear. As I was saying, I came to this church back when Pastor Landris talked about strongholds. Then he had an altar call for those who desired prayer to be released from their strongholds. You remember that?”

  “Yes, in fact, that teaching has caused many to do just what you’re doing today. But sometimes, your release is not immediate—”

  “Oh, I’m not here to get a refund because it didn’t work.”

  Johnnie Mae looked down at the table; her face was a little warm from a bit of embarrassment. She had almost defended her husband’s prayer on that day as though this woman were coming back to complain about it not working and wanted some type of reimbursement or some other form of compensation. “I’m sorry. Please, continue.”

  Memory smiled. She glanced down, then pointed at Johnnie Mae’s stomach. “You’re due soon.”

  “Yes. August fourteenth.”

  “It’s a boy.”

  “We really don’t know or want to know until the baby comes. So I can’t s
ay.”

  “No, I’m telling you, it’s a boy,” Memory said. “You’re carrying low. It’s a boy. Trust me, I’m really pretty good at this. It’s a boy. So is this your first?”

  “No. I have a little girl from a previous marriage. My first husband died. Princess Rose is ‘six and a half.’ You know how they like to add that half in there.”

  “I have one daughter. Not a baby anymore. My daughter has a daughter. And my granddaughter has a daughter. In fact, I told my granddaughter she was carrying a girl back when she was pregnant. She didn’t believe me. But I hear she had a little girl, just like I said. Born September eleventh, two thousand and one. Not a good day for America, but it turned out to be a good day after all for my own daughter. She got to live to see her first grandbaby. Me, I haven’t a clue what my great-granddaughter even looks like.”

  “Why not?”

  “Let’s see. Well, all of that is part of my story and really why I made the decision to come here today. My coming here has cost me the place where I was staying. But I got to do this for me. The woman I was living with is some sort of a religious fanatic who, from everything I’ve gathered about her, believes she’s the only one who’s right about everything. She doesn’t have an open mind to anything new or different from what she was taught back in her grandmama’s day.”

  “How could that have cost you your place to live?”

  “She doesn’t care for this church much. And I had the nerve to defy her and keep visiting here, first of all. She can’t stand for something like defiance living under her roof. Forget that I paid her rent to live there. Keep in mind also, she was the one who literally forced me to go to this church in the first place because she was too afraid of a church this size.” Memory took a few swallows of water.

  “But something happened to me that day.” Memory set the glass down gently and continued. “I saw who I really was, and I have to tell you, I didn’t like myself very much. I came to the altar that day. You see, I was a liar and a cheat, for the most part. My stronghold was selfishness, self-centeredness, and self-destruction. I believed everything was all about me, and I lived my life just like that. I had a mother who sacrificed for me. I didn’t care. I had a wonderful father who didn’t run out on us. I didn’t care. I had a daughter that I brought into the world who was helpless and needed me. I didn’t care. If you had something and I could make a fast buck off it, it was going to be mine no matter who became a casualty when I went for it. My mother died, and you’ll never guess what I did.”

  “What?”

  “I deliberately stayed away from her funeral. Waited until she was in the ground a few good days before I stepped foot back in her house. I let my barely sixteen-year-old daughter go through all that grieving and worrying about what she was going to do, while I waited. And do you want to know what I did next?”

  Johnnie Mae nodded her head, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “I came home and took everything my mother left to my daughter including the house, and I sold it. The only place my own child had to live and I put her on the streets to fend for herself. And for what? For some man who couldn’t care less whether I lived or died. After all that money was gone from the sale of everything I took from my daughter, he was right behind it: gone. And there I was alone again, looking for my next big score. But I suspected my daughter might have gotten the upper hand on me. There was this piece of jewelry. I saw it when this white woman gave it to my mother. I suspected it was worth some money. The woman said it was for me. My mother denied it when I questioned her about it. She denied it up until months before she died. But I was certain of what I heard. And I was determined, if it did still exist, I was going to get it. At the time, I didn’t know just how much it was truly worth.”

  Johnnie Mae began to look at this person who had called herself Elaine differently. She just said a white woman, like she’s not white. There was a familiarity about this story. Hearing her talk was causing her to question what was going on here.

  “Are you all right?” Memory asked as she tilted her head to try and read the expression on Johnnie Mae’s face.

  “Oh, yeah. It was just your story was sounding a little like something I’ve heard about before.”

  “I suppose that happens a lot in your listening line of work,” Memory said. “And you look like you read a lot, too. They say there’s nothing new under the sun.”

  “Yes. But please, go on.”

  “I suspected my daughter still had that necklace I saw the woman give my mother. It wasn’t in those things I took. I just hoped she didn’t think it was junk and throw it away. So I set out to get it, especially after I learned there was a reward for it.”

  “Oh, God,” Johnnie Mae whispered.

  “Mrs. Landris, are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good.”

  Johnnie Mae stood up and began to fan herself with the file folder. Memory went and got the other glass and poured Johnnie Mae some water.

  “Here, dearie. Drink some of this. Do I need to go get someone for you? You don’t look well at all. You look like death warmed over, all of sudden.”

  Johnnie Mae took a swallow of the water. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay. If you could just give me a minute…let me get some air. I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure, take all the time you need. There’s nowhere I have to be anytime soon. In fact, when I leave here, I don’t have a clue where I’ll be going. I’m just tired of running, I do know that. But you go on out and take care of yourself. You probably did too much today carrying that baby, and he’s reminding you that you need to take it easy.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” Johnnie Mae walked toward the door. She looked back at Memory one more time. It has to be her. “I’ll be back in about five minutes.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Johnnie Mae left the room and closed the door. She leaned back against the door for a second, trying to figure out what to do next. “Oh, God. What now?”

  Chapter 33

  There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.

  —I John 4:18

  Johnnie Mae went to Pastor Landris’s office. “Sherry, I need to speak with Pastor Landris.”

  “He’s in conference right now and gave me explicit orders he not be disturbed.”

  “I understand that, but this is really urgent.”

  “Are you okay? Is it the baby?” Sherry asked.

  “I’m fine. The baby’s fine. But this is really important. Now, either you can interrupt him or I will,” Johnnie Mae said as she took short breaths.

  “Okay. Hold on. I’ll be right back.” Sherry went and knocked on Pastor Landris’s door.

  “Come in,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry, Pastor Landris. But there’s something very, very important that needs your immediate attention. You know I wouldn’t have bothered you otherwise.”

  Pastor Landris nodded to Sherry, then addressed the man in his office. “Could you please excuse me for just a moment? I’ll be right back. Just hold that thought,” he said.

  “Of course, Pastor,” the man said.

  Pastor Landris hurried out the door and closed it behind him. He saw Johnnie Mae standing there.

  “What’s wrong?” he said, panic lacing his voice.

  “That woman that I’m meeting with,” Johnnie Mae said as she tried to keep her voice from cracking and still breathe.

  “Did she do something? Do we need to call security?” Pastor Landris asked.

  “No.” Johnnie Mae covered her mouth with her hands as she glanced at Sherry, who was still within hearing distance.

  Pastor Landris saw her glance quickly over at Sherry, and he guided his wife by the elbow to another area so she could speak freely without the fear of being overheard.

  “Tell me what has you so upset,” Pastor Landris said.

  “I think that woman in the conference…that Elaine Robertson…”
/>
  “Yes.”

  “I think that’s Memory Patterson.”

  “You mean Lena Patterson’s mother?”

  “Yes, Lena’s mother; Sarah Fleming’s daughter.”

  “Oh my.”

  “Sarah has been frantically searching for her all of these years. I’ve kept in touch with both Lena and Sarah off and on. Sarah told me about two years ago she hired a private investigator to find Memory. But whenever he got close enough, Memory always disappeared before he could really talk to her. Memory doesn’t even believe it when he tells folks to tell her she’s possible heir to an inheritance. So she ends up fleeing every single time.”

  “If you’d done all she’s been accused of doing, wouldn’t you? I mean, can you blame her?”

  “No. And I’m not sure I would trust her knowing all the detailed information regarding Sarah either. Lena definitely doesn’t trust her knowing what she may have access to now,” Johnnie Mae said. She began to pace a little. “I told her I would be right back. What do I do?”

  “Does she suspect you know who she is? That she’s really Memory.”

  “No. She thinks I’m not feeling well because of the baby. Like I’ve done too much today. But I have to get back before she gets restless or suspicious or something and leaves. She’s down there spilling her guts to me about all these things she’s done to her daughter—”

  “Lena.”

  “Yes. And she’s talking about that necklace now, the Alexandrite necklace—I’m sure it is. I didn’t know what to do…my breathing started getting shallow…the baby felt like he had balled up.”

  “He? You said ‘he.’ You’ve never referred to the baby as a gender before.”

  “Later about that. But I need to call Sarah and find out what she wants me to do. I mean, Sarah wants so much to see her daughter. And she’s right here! The infamous Memory is right here, with me no less. I can’t take a chance of her getting away. Who knows if we’ll ever find her again or if we do, whether it will be too late when she is finally found.”

  “Where is she staying?” Pastor Landris asked as he held Johnnie Mae still.