Even Sinners Have Souls

by Joy, E. n.

  Use his charm, his wit, and unfortunately, his power and anointing to lure in women like me? My eyes filled with tears, but then I decided that I could not let this man see me break down. So I shot back. "Excuse me! You were the one that called me to meet you, remember? And on top of that, how would Pastor know about our spot if you weren't the one who told him, because I know I didn't?"

  I shrugged. "Did you set me up? Perhaps that's the question I should be asking. Jerk!"

  Perhaps my open protest brought Duvall back to reality, because he lowered his tone. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know how they found us."

  In our grasping moment, there was more stillness. Pastor Wyatt, as if he had had enough of Duvall and me going back and forth, lodged a solid knock on the win- dow.

  "Son, open this door at once," Pastor ordered his son-in-law.

  Immediately, we were faced with the challenge. Duvall finally got his shirt situated and was now fondling with his belt buckle.

  "I'm opening the door, Duvall. He's not leaving," I said.

  "But what will we say?"

  I paused for a moment and thought real hard. I then turned to Duvall and said, "The truth. We'll tell the truth." And I meant that with every being in my body. I was tired of hiding. Tired of the lies, and tired of being a backslider. It was time for me to get straight. And the time was now.

  Pastor Wyatt had walked over to the driver's side and was now knocking on Duvall's window. "Son, you can't fathom the extent the devil will go to rob, kill and destroy. Be the man I know you are and own up to your stuff."

  Duvall briefly hesitated, but unlocked the door any- way. Finally, I was able to exit, thanking God that Pastor Wyatt had walked around to Duvall's side of the car, allowing me an escape from what he had to say to me.

  I jumped out,f shutting the door behind me and proceeded to walk to my car. As soon as I approached the back of Duvall's Durango, Justin studied me tiredly. He had been the shadow behind Pastor Wyatt. Now there was another thing I would never forget; and it was the look on Justin's face when he walked from behind Pastor and stared into my eyes.

  Still silent, Justin only stared at me. Seconds later, he was retrieving something from the inside of his blazer.

  Trapped in this illusion, I couldn't bring myself to apologize to those that I hurt, but I was truly embarrassed and ashamed. The embarrassment silenced my tongue. This had blown up in our face and we had been exposed by God. Now I knew how Justin felt when I con- fronted him about cheating on me; defenseless.

  "Here, your lover left his wallet." Justin extended Duvall's wallet out to me, but I didn't take it. I knew I wouldn't be seeing Duvall anytime soon in order to give him his wallet. "We followed him back here, but when I saw your car, I knew something was suspect. I asked Pastor Wyatt to relax and let the scene play out to see what the deal was, and now we know. I hope you got a good one off," Justin sighed. "This explains why he asked Pastor to take me home. He had a hot date with my girl. And I say girl because a true woman of God would never act in such a way. You taught me that, remember? You may have God in your heart, but you're in love with your devilish thoughts and actions. That's what your lover taught me... my "spiritual" mentor."

  Justin laughed to keep from crying before he continued. "You know one of the reasons why I was self- reserved about church? It's because of all the hypocrisy. But you, Semora, you got me into the church, but then led me astray by playing with my emotions about God. You weren't real. I never expected the hypocrite to be you. "

  Intently, I listened to him. There was nothing I could possibly say to make light of the situation and his temper was boiling by the second.

  "You know you're as foul as they come. All this talk about trust in God and I needed to be saved was just a front. You knockin' off this dude that you introduced me to. And, you're cool with his wife. You had us double dating and coming to your crib together. Man, that was dirty."

  "This sounds so familiar," I rebutted in my defense. I was going for a low, over used tactic; I was turning the table.

  "So, all you wanted was revenge?" he frowned, grip ping his chin.

  "Actually, no. I didn't intend for this to happen. I'm sorry. Please allow me to excuse myself." I had to get away from there. I was humiliated.

  Just then Justin turned his attention toward Duvall, who had gotten out of the car to talk with Pastor.

  "You, scandalous..." he gritted through his teeth at Duvall, holding back the curse words he probably would have said hadn't the pastor been there. He then began stepping towards where Pastor Wyatt and Duvall were standing.

  I quickly began taking steps toward my car to get away from the entire scene. I then heard Pastor's commanding voice and looked to see what was going down.

  "Son, no, he's not worth it." Pastor was holding Justin back from leaping on his son-in-law.

  "I shared my troubles with you, man! I exposed my heart about my shortcomings. You gave me advice on life, even how I should deal with my lady," Justin shouted to Duvall. "I want to just blame Semora for all of this, but I can't. It took two. Man, it's dudes like you that make a man wanna kill a nig-" Once again, Justin caught his tongue. "You once told me I not only had to repent for the things I'd done, but for the things I'd said. What about for the things I think? 'Cause right now, it's not Godly!"

  I stood ignorantly listening to Justin pour out his soul to Duvall while Pastor had to pull scriptures from the depths to keep him from falling prey to the devil's workshop.

  "Justin, as God is my witness, son, He will see you through this," Pastor told him. "Just have a seat in my car before you regret this moment any more than you already do."

  Still heated, Justin obeyed the man of God, and went and sat in Pastor's Bentley. Duvall never made a single comment. Pastor looked up and saw me still standing there and called out to me.

  "Young lady, would you come over here, please?" Pastor requested.

  What I wanted to do was keep it moving, ignoring his call. But out of respect for Pastor Wyatt, I proceeded toward him.

  "Yes, Pastor?" I said as I approached them.

  "Do you understand what you two have done?" Pastor asked.

  Shamefully, I nodded.

  "I hope you do. You've shamed God, and could possibly expose a church scandal. I better not ever hear a word of this. If I lose one member over this..."

  While I understood I had just as much accountability as Duvall, I didn't want to get chastised about it.

  "Shame on both of you." He shook his head vicariously. "You two, listen well; I don't want a word of this to get back to my daughter. And I expect for you to right your wrong with God. I'm requesting that both of you step down from your positions."

  I could see Duvall stiffen up from being stripped of a position he rightfully earned. "How am I going to explain that to Avoria then without telling her the truth?" Duvall questioned.

  "We'll discuss that later," Pastor said before turning his attention back to me. "And as for you, Semora. I won't ask that you leave the church, but I'm sure you'll follow your heart." His message was loud and clear. The church doors weren't always open after all, at least not for me.

  "What about my groups? I've worked hard with the girls. Do I just let them down after they've formed a bond with me? They trust me. And, Pastor, you know how hard it is to get teenagers to trust grown-ups." Imaginatively, I believed that would still earn me my position in the church.

  "You bonded with them, huh?" Pastor pondered. "Well, obviously not as much as you bonded with my son-in-law. Again, I trust you will make the most effective decision."

  Defeated, finally guilt tears swelled in my eye ducts. Pastor had indirectly asked me to leave the church. With the little dignity I had, I raised my head and walked away. I understood perfectly. It was over. Just like I had construed earlier; everything was over. Only thing was, my intentions had been for things to be over between me and Duvall only; not with the church, not with Justin, and certainly not with God.

  Chapter Ele
ven

  In the End, Who Wins?

  Two months ago, I thought I'd never stop experiencing the turmoil that Duvall and I had caused. As hard as it was for me to leave a good church home, I knew I had to. Not only did I leave, but so did Justin. Justin and I are barely communicating, again, but I'm making progress. God is a forgiving God and I hope Justin admonishes that as I did when he cheated on me.

  From what I heard though, Cousin Angie said he's on his way to becoming Pastor Dean's armor bearer over at her church. Isn't that something? I guess Justin was the man I thought he wasn't after all. I just didn't have the patience to watch the seed grow. I was too caught up in my little fantasy world I'd created about my image of a so-called man of God. I see now it's better to search on the inside and not the outside of a man.

  I haven't had contact with Duvall, but secretly I'd stalk my caller ID hoping he would call. I'm sure he's doing what Pastor Wyatt asked of us, 'Righting our wrong'. Even if he did call, I wouldn't dare go back on my word this time with God. I begged God to forgive me for betraying Him and the church.

  "God, if you get me out of this one," I had prayed, "I will never go against You like this again. Lord, I'm not saying I won't fall short, but I'll try my best to live righteous. Lord, just please don't put me on Front Street with everybody in the church. Expose me to me, so the change can begin within. Show me it was my fault and nobody else's. Deliver me, Lord. Allow me the opportunity to fall in love with a man suited for me; one that you have designed for me. I'm willing to wait, Lord. This time, I'm willing to wait on you."

  ***

  I saw Avoria in passing one day and she kindly asked me why I had left the church. Openly, I admitted, "I backslid, that's why." I wasn't sure what her reaction would be, but right then, without rejection, she began praying for me - so genuine and sincere. When the prayer was over, she embraced me and I sobbed remorsefully, breaking down on her shoulder.

  "Whatever it is, Semora, God will see you through." She rubbed my back caringly. "Call me. Let me help you get through this. Everybody goes through trials and tribulations. You can't do it alone. You know I'm here for you, sis."

  If only she knew. "Yeah, I know you are," I told her. "And, Semora," she said before walking off. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Whatever it is, God will forgive you. Our God is a God of second chances. Do you think you're the only who has backslid?"

  She leaned in and began to speak in a whisper as if she was telling me a secret. "I backslid once, real bad. It was before I met Duvall. I got caught up with a married man. I destroyed his marriage. I embarrassed the church, not to mention I grieved God. But I repented and then a couple years later God gave me Duvall, a wonderful, genuine, God-fearing man who loves me dearly and would never do anything to hurt me. I don't deserve that husband of mine, especially after I stole on another woman's husband. But God still gave him to me," she smiled. "So just keep your head up and stay strong." And on that note, she walked away.

  I stood there, speechless, as I watched her walk away. I couldn't believe that Little Miss Perfect, the angel of Tabernacle in the flesh had found herself in the same situation as I had found myself in. How badly I wanted to call out to her and confess my identical fault, but I knew it would only hurt her. As I watched her walk out of plain view, I could only think to myself, You're right, you don't deserve Duvall; you deserve better.

  After hearing Avoria's confession, I definitely planned on doing what Pastor Wyatt had asked me to do, and that was to right my wrong. I would do so by starting over; starting fresh in hopes of God placing me in another leadership position. And this time I would honor it and be real about who I am.

  As I walked away, thinking about everything Avoria had just told me, I couldn't help but wonder if God had just allowed me to cross her path for a reason; if He was using her to speak to me. If so, I prayed that the message was that God forgives us, but I couldn't ignore the other message that stood out loud and clear: We reap what we sow.

  May God have mercy on my soul.

  THE END

  EVERYTHING FOR THE TRUTH

  by

  NOIRE

  Chapter One

  Heat was rising off the concrete in Harlem. Porsche stood in her tiny, second floor, bedroom tossing everything she owned into a cardboard box. Outside on 118th Street, little kids screamed and laughed as they raced through the cold spray of an open johnny pump. Upstairs, sweat slid between Porsche's breasts as she folded and packed up what little gear she wanted to keep.

  "Uh-uh." Sharita Johnson watched her nineteen- year-old daughter throw a wrinkled set of sheets into the box. She reached out to knock a cockroach off the wall, then puffed on her Newport and stood up. She was fine and curvy-shaped. Her hips and thighs were all woman, but her waist and stomach were tight like a teenager's.

  "Girl, fold them sheets up the right way. You can't have a playa like Vince rolling around in no wrinkles, baby. I keep telling you to watch yourself. You too loose, Porsche. You need to tighten up your game, baby, 'cause there's about two million tricks out there who would cut your throat for a chance to iron your man's sheets."

  Sharita smirked and flicked her cigarette ashes on the floor. "They'll iron his drawers and his socks, too. Yeah, you might have his seed stuck up in your behind, but you still gotta put in work to keep him feindin' and licking out the palm of your hand."

  "I'm hot," Porsche complained, rubbing the back of her hand across her forehead. "I ain't even thinking about them sheets."

  "Give 'em here, lazy," Sharita demanded, holding out her hands.

  Porsche pulled a king-sized sheet out of the box and gave it to her mother.

  "Girl, you act like you don't know nothing," Sharita muttered. She snatched the sheet then snapped her wrists and sent it sailing in the air. "I showed you this already. All the ends have to line up the right way. You gotta fold it into a perfect rectangle and make sure the edges look neat."

  Porsche shrugged, then sat down on the edge of the bed and crossed her slender legs. She was taller than her mother, but had the same killer body and an even prettier face. "It ain't that serious, Ma. Vince don't care about that kinda stuff."

  "Well, even if he don't care, you should."

  Porsche lowered her eyes and touched her stomach.

  She had long soft curls and beautiful caramel skin, just like her mother. But while Sharita was street tough and knew how to work what she had to get what she schemed for, all Porsche wanted to do was enjoy a peaceful life with the man she loved while they waited for their first baby to be born.

  Sharita looked at her daughter then blinked her false eyelashes and frowned.

  "Hold up! Since when the National Football League start making their star players pack up their own stuff anyway? I thought they had a moving service to take care of all that? When your daddy first got drafted into the NBA, they sent somebody out to pack up everything we had in the house. So why you over here folding up wrinkled sheets, Mrs. Vincent Cooper? That's a maid's job, and when we move into that phat new house, you better make sure Vince hires us one real quick too."

  Porsche didn't care if Vince played professional foot- ball or got a job flipping them nasty little burgers at White Castle. He loved her, and he had proven it by put- ting a ring on her finger after dating her ever since her freshman year in high school. Yeah, six months ago when they got married, them NFL lawyers had been concerned about Vince's contract and endorsements and made her sign a standard little prenup, but Porsche wasn't pressed about that. They were just trying to protect their high-profile player and that was understand- able.

  Sharita had tried to talk her daughter out of signing it, but Porsche followed her own heart. She was having Vince's baby and she wanted to be his wife. She wasn't trying to wait months and months while a bunch of lawyers fought over who should get what if they happened to break up. There wasn't gonna be no breakup. The fact that Vince had a lot of bank was nice, but Porsche didn't worship money and it didn't rule her neither. Besides, Vince w
as way past generous. He had always given her his very last, even before he got paid, and she couldn't see that changing. They were both hyped to be together as they waited for their baby to be born.

  "I don't need no maid, Ma. I know how to fold laundry and I can iron it too. I did it all the time when we lived with Daddy. This ain't no different."

  Sharita looked at Porsche like she was a real fool. She smoothed the perfectly folded sheet and placed it in the box then said, "Baby girl, don't be so daggone dizzy. Who said anything about needing a maid? Of course you don't need no maid, but you should want one, Porsche. You should want a driver and somebody to get in the kitchen and cook for you too. You married a man with a phat contract, so you deserve all of that. You just gotta stop thinking with your Harlem brain and start thinking outside the ghetto box. You a starter wife now. Your man got initials on his resume; N.F. freaking L. Ya heard? And don't get it twisted, neither. Taking care of a man like Vince is different than washing dirty drawers for your trifling daddy. If his stupid behind hadn't messed up, I woulda seen to it that you never so much as stood next to a washing machine in your whole life. You know what I mean?"

  Porsche sighed. "Daddy didn't mess up, Ma. He got hurt."

  Sharita rolled her neck and stared at Porsche from slitted eyes. "Got hurt? You call having the police run your car all over the streets of Philly while you got a skanky white ho bobbing her head in your lap getting hurt? He messed up, Porsche. That girl's face was so far down in your daddy's drawers when he crashed through that guard rail, that she probably had a Cadillac steering wheel logo indented on her forehead."

  Sharita's words burned Porsche's ears. She swallowed hard as tears stung her eyes. "Why you always gotta say foul stuff like that, Ma? Daddy wasn't even like that. You don't know what they were doing in that car. It wasn't Daddy's fault. He was only trying to do what was right."