The Devil Made Me Do It

by Colette R. Harrell

  “Esther? It’s Briggs. You don’t sound well.” He worried that she was upset from all the gossip.

  “Yes, my friend Lawton was in a horrible car accident today. I’m at Henry Ford Hospital, and it doesn’t look good. Can you pray for him, Briggs? Can you pray real hard?” Esther fought through a sniffle.

  “I’m really sorry to hear that. Yes, I’ll pray for him, and I’ll send up my prayers for you and his family’s strength. You shouldn’t be alone. Who’s there with you?”

  “I’m sitting with his family and some of his fellow officers. I’ll be okay. I’m so worried about him. What if he doesn’t make it? I never told him how important he was becoming to me. I’m so scared,” Esther whispered.

  “Hold on. As your friend and pastor, I’m on my way.”

  After weeks of trying, Roger found where Esther lived by following her home. Now he was back. He crept outside the brick colonial looking for a way in. He tried to remember Esther’s habits, but alcohol and weed muddled his mind. The black wool mask he was wearing was hot and made it hard on his peripheral vision. However, he was keeping it on. In case he was seen, he didn’t want anyone to recognize him. He searched for an entrance and decided he’d take his chances breaking the basement windowpane, when he noticed a cracked window into Esther’s bathroom. Memories assaulted him as he remembered—his then wife—opening the window to let the steam out every morning before she curled her hair. He lifted the window up and climbed in, crashing against her toilet paper holder and taking it down as he fell. When his scrutiny stopped on the holder, he remembered Phyllis’s smug face holding the toilet paper holder years ago when Esther moved out. Furious, he longed for a chance to close Phyllis’s smug mouth too. He ripped off his mask. Somewhere in the house he could now hear oldies R&B playing low. The house smelled good; fresh and clean. It wasn’t the sweet incense-thick scent he associated with their home, and this angered him. He was pissed off. Nothing from him in her life was left.

  Roger explored Esther’s house and was surprised to find an expensive bottle of champagne in her buffet. The Esther he knew didn’t drink. He rifled through her photo album, and just like he thought, she had erased him from her life. Roger found his way back to Esther’s bedroom and sat on her bed; a raggedy .22 pistol rested on his lap. He was nervous and swigged his champagne bottle of liquid courage. Small beads of perspiration rolled down his neck. He had one hundred and seventy-three dollars in his pocket. That was the amount he found in Esther’s emergency cash, stored in a fake orange juice carton in her refrigerator. He wasn’t fencing anything big, but some of her jewelry might tide him over during the cold Chicago nights he would soon endure.

  When Esther arrived, he planned to take the cash Esther had in her purse, her ATM card, and then trash her place. He figured her ATM pin was still her grandmother’s birthday. Roger planned for it to look like a random robbery. If he could get his old mojo back, he may even take her for a little ride on his own personal roller coaster. He frowned as he remembered saying that to his last girlfriend and her laughing in his face and calling it the kiddie ride. All women were mean-spirited and cruel. He never met one he could love forever, including his mama. He shuddered and thought of the earlier newscast, Esther would be Detroit’s one hundred and fifty-fifth homicide of the year.

  Roger took another swig, shrugged it off, and laughed in deranged glee. All Esther needed to do was come home. She was late.

  “Wonderful work, Imp One, you are turning out to be very inventive. Maybe you will make it to full demon status,” The Leader growled with satisfaction as he looked at the turmoil unfolding below.

  Imp One looked with a furrowed brow, puzzled at the new events occurring. He sneaked a look at the plans he had written with so much care and detail. There was no car accident for Lawton Redding included. Lawton was supposed to get angry and barge into Esther’s house after she got off of work and Roger had offed her. He would be charged with murder for storming in her house in heated anger.

  Briggs would be left in scandal and shame, standing alone, trying to convince people that he and Esther never had an affair. His public shame would rub off on his father’s reputation, soiling him too.

  The ripple effect would continue when the image of the Wileys, as an upstanding Christian family, was ruined. Best of all, by the time Reverend Gregory returned, Love Zion would be in disarray and most of the real Christians would have moved on, leaving church folk like Abigail Winters in charge.

  Imp One stood frozen to his spot. He dared not mention to The Leader that there was a small glitch in the plans. If he had to turn to ashes, later was just as good as now.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Briggs entered the swinging doors of the hospital while the Wiley family was pulling into the parking lot. He had called Charles, and, as usual, the whole family responded. Mr. and Mrs. Wiley even brought her elderly aunt Gert who was visiting.

  Esther looked up and gave Briggs a tentative smile as she hugged him. She then guided him to Lawton’s mother. “Mrs. Redding, this is my pastor and good friend, Briggs Stokes.”

  “Oh, a pastor! Thank you so much for coming. We need your prayers. This reminds me of the time Lawton’s father passed. I just can’t take it. I just can’t . . .” Mrs. Redding cried, grabbing and squeezing Briggs’s hand.

  He gently squeezed her hand in return. “I’m here for you and your family, Mrs. Redding. Let’s pray together. I believe that God’s plans are not always known to us, but He is sovereign and able.”

  “Yes, yes,” Mrs. Redding mumbled as Briggs led her away.

  Esther stared after Briggs. What a good man, just not my man. She heard a commotion at the entry hall as the Wiley clan walked in.

  Her father spoke for all of them. “Esther, when one of us is hurting, we’re all hurting. How is your young man?”

  Esther approached her father and lay her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know, Daddy. They haven’t come out and said anything in over two hours. Everyone is on edge.”

  Hickman placed his arm around her shoulder. “Well, introduce us to his family so we can pray. Corporate prayer is powerful.”

  “Yes, sir. Briggs was about to do just that.” Esther led the group over to Briggs, Mrs. Redding, and the other Redding family members, including his sister, Angela. They were joined by two police officer friends who were still there from earlier. A news reporter sat in the corner interchanging typing in a tablet and speaking into his cell phone. All waited for news.

  After prayer, Esther sat with her father in a corner of the waiting room where she had moved to be alone. “I believe I could love him, Daddy,” Esther stated in a low voice.

  “Now he seemed to be a good person when we all met. But . . . love? Already?”

  “See, that’s exactly how I feel too. It’s just too soon. It’s only been a little over a month.”

  “Yes, time is a consideration in these matters. What else bothers you?” Hickman searched her face for clues as to the real matter at heart.

  Esther looked over at Briggs standing with the Redding family. “Well, in a kind of weird way, there was someone else—or, maybe the idea of him.”

  “Yes, go on,” her father said with a grimace on his face.

  “Then—” Esther was interrupted by the doctor entering the room.

  “Redding family?”

  “Yes?” they all answered in unison.

  “Mr. Redding is out of surgery and things look stable. The next twenty-four hours will tell us more. He had internal bleeding from blunt trauma; possibly the steering wheel. He has a concussion and some swelling of the brain. He has a broken leg and several lacerations. We stopped the internal bleeding and now we want to monitor him closely. In cases like this, blood clots can occur. The brain swelling should decrease, but he’ll remain in ICU where he can get around-the-clock care. If all goes well we should be able to move him to a regular room in the next forty-eight hours.”

  “Doctor, when can we see him?” Mrs. Reddi
ng asked, clutching her daughter’s hand.

  “He’s in post-op, but I’ll have a nurse come and get you when it’s time. Although his body took a severe beating in the crash, he was in excellent condition. Please don’t let his appearance and the tubes alarm you. We really are very optimistic concerning his case.”

  “Thank you. Thank you,” Mrs. Redding sobbed.

  She turned to her daughter, and they hugged. Esther stood with a smile of relief on her face as Mrs. Redding pulled her into an embrace. A news reporter stepped up to speak to Mrs. Redding on Lawton’s condition, and Esther excused herself.

  Mrs. Wiley put her arm around Esther. “Your dad and I are going to get going. I’m so happy Lawton is holding his own. I won’t suggest you leave, but please call us when you get home.”

  Phyllis stood next to Esther. “Girlfriend, when he comes to, you might want to look a little more presentable. How about Charles and I go and get you a change of clothes and a little necessity bag to take care of yourself?”

  Esther laughed for the first time in several hours. “Phyllis, only you, girl, thanks. I’ll take you up on that.”

  “Come on, Charles, duty calls,” Phyllis said over her shoulder as she marched out of the room with purpose.

  “That’s my baby, always in charge. Esther, we’ll see you a little later.” Charles followed his wife out and saluted Briggs good-bye.

  Aunt Gert wrapped her crochet shawl around her small shoulders. “I betta catch my ride home. Your mama walked outta here like she forgot me. I’ma hurt her.”

  She then, gentle in her touch, grabbed Esther’s chin. “Things don’t always turn out the way we plan. Yet, God is working it out on our behalf. Don’t look at me like that. Just because I don’t go to church doesn’t mean I lack faith. I love the Lord, and I know He loves you. Change is a good thing, honey, and it is inevitable. Embrace it and let go of everything you thought was what you wanted.”

  Esther held her aunt close; she didn’t have a clue about all the cryptic words, but she knew her aunt always spoke truth. She would sort it all out later. Right now, she needed to sit by herself for a little while and give thanks.

  Esther turned toward the corner chair when she heard her name whispered.

  “Sorry, you seemed deep in thought. I see everyone’s gone. Do you have a few minutes?” Briggs asked.

  In Esther’s preoccupation she thought Briggs had left. “Hey, thank you for coming and for calling my family. When everything happened I only had time to call Mother Reed. Would it be okay if we spoke tomorrow?”

  “I know that you’ve been through a lot, but I really need to speak with you now.” Briggs’s voice expressed urgency.

  Esther was a little taken aback. “Okay, if it’s that important to you.” She motioned him away from everyone.

  They sat in the corner of the empty waiting room.

  Briggs didn’t hesitate to get to the point. “Esther, there are rumors going around about us in the church.”

  Esther was lost. “What? Why?”

  “Who knows what goes on in the minds and imaginations of misled, wounded people. I wanted to tell you myself, and I also wanted to talk about truth with you.”

  “Truth?”

  Briggs clasped his hands as though in prayer. “Yeah, truth unvarnished by how I would love to spin it in my favor. Look, when I sat in meditation this morning, God showed me a personal video clip of what has transpired since I moved here. Like Abraham coaching Sarah before entering Egypt, it began with a lie. You see, Abraham didn’t want to deal with the famine in his country, so he designed a lie to get out of it. I didn’t tell you I was married to Monica because, in my heart of hearts, I didn’t want there to be a Monica. My thoughts have been impure, and my actions have reflected that. You were my first love, the one who left me and broke my heart in the process. Instead of letting God heal my heart, I thought I healed it myself. I have been less than honest with you, Monica, myself, and God. So I’m here to apologize.”

  Esther was speechless. She had to admit to herself that everything he said was true. She had played her own fantasies out in her head and heart even after she found out he was married. Aunt Gert’s words fell open in her heart. “It’s time to let go, isn’t it, Briggs?”

  “Yes, it is,” Briggs said with sadness and regret.

  “Will you fix things with your wife? Have you spoken to her?”

  Briggs was standing on a new foundation. “No. My marriage has been in a famine season, but that’s my problem, not yours. It’s time we left each other’s personal lives behind. Whatever happens between Monica and me will be between us. You and I still have to face the gossips, but I believe God will turn all of that around. He is merciful.”

  Esther understood Briggs’s discretion. “You’re right. And I’m not worried about the rumors. I have worried about the thoughts and deeds of other people for so long that I have missed blessings meant for me. Right now, I have a wonderful friend fighting for his life, and I need to direct my energies to helping him heal. By the way, the zoning problem is handled. I’ll send you an e-mail report. Good-bye, Briggs. The next time I see you in church, you’ll be Pastor Stokes.” She got up to hug him, but then sat down with her arms at her side.

  Briggs dipped his head in agreement. “And you’ll be Sister Esther.”

  Both looked at each other, letting go and finally—moving on.

  “I have a plane to catch to Atlanta.” Briggs strode out of the room, and for all real purposes, Esther’s life.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Phyllis and Charles sat in the driveway of Esther’s home while Phyllis dug through her purse for Esther’s spare key.

  Charles observed his wife, her soft profile reminding him of his love for her. He reached across the seat and placed his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

  “Charles, not now,” Phyllis gasped, but closed her arms around her husband and kissed him ardently.

  The two sat in the car, necking like teenagers. Ever since Phyllis had begun to cope with her depression, she felt like she had been given a second chance at everything. Getting geared up to fight for her sister made her remember that she was worth fighting for too. Knowing the truth that God was not mad at her and had accepted her repentance long ago was her blessing and her road map to healing. She knew she needed more help, and she was now willing to get it. She had called a Christian counseling center and had already scheduled her first appointment.

  Charles came around and opened Phyllis’s car door. He hugged her up under his left arm and bumped his hip to hers on the way up the walkway. They were acting silly, and both loved it. Charles took the key from his wife’s hand and unlocked the door.

  “Oooh, so manly,” Phyllis teased as she squeezed his left bicep. Charles shook his finger at her friskiness. “Don’t start anything in your sister’s house, woman. I promise when we get out of here, it’s on,” he stated as he pushed the door open.

  Phyllis moved to the alarm control panel, but it was off. She shook her head absently at Esther’s forgetfulness in the mornings. Esther was known for always rushing out of the house. “Charles, Esther left her stereo on. She better quit bugging me about going green and she’s leaving her appliances on. She didn’t even set the alarm. This my jam, though.”

  Phyllis snapped her fingers, turned up the stereo, and old school R&B floated throughout the air as Charles headed toward the kitchen to get a soda. Phyllis went down the hallway to Esther’s bedroom. As she turned the doorknob, she thought she heard something. She froze when Charles came up behind her silent like a ninja.

  “Want a soda?” he whispered.

  Phyllis slapped his arm, “Man, you scared me. Why are you whispering?”

  Charles looked sheepish. “I don’t know. Why are you?”

  Phyllis made note they were still whispering. Things felt off. “Guess I feel a little spooked for some reason. Let’s get her stuff and go,” Phyllis said as she opened the door.

  In slow, thr
ee-dimensional Technicolor horror, Charles held out the hand holding a bottle of soda and bowed in a gallant motion for Phyllis to go first as a loud pop filled the air and the soda bottle burst.

  Phyllis screamed, and Charles roared as he threw Phyllis down to the ground, crawled over her through the door, and made for the masked man holding the gun.

  Roger tried to aim the gun for a second time and fire, but the hammer jammed. He threw the gun at Charles and made for the window.

  Charles tackled Roger and punched him. “Stay down, Phyllis, don’t you move,” Charles struggled with the masked man.

  Roger squirmed his arm loose, and threw a roundhouse and connected with Charles’s chin. Charles fell back and leaped up with more force. Roger wasn’t as physically fit as Charles, but he had been out in the streets of Detroit surviving. When Charles grabbed him again, he elbowed him. Then he crawled toward the window when Charles grabbed him by the shoulder pulling him back. Roger bit Charles’s hand viciously and kicked him in the stomach. Charles doubled over in pain.

  Roger noticed the gun, and then looked over at Phyllis facedown in the hallway. She was crouched on the floor, her arms covering her head. The discarded gun lay a few feet away. All Roger could think was payback time.

  Charles was lifting up when he saw Roger’s intent. He went berserk, leaping on top of Roger and punching him repeatedly. Punches to Roger’s back, to his side, a blow to his head—over and over. Grabbing Roger in a headlock, he then snatched the mask that was already askew and pulled it off.

  “You?” Charles snarled.

  Roger struggled to get free, but Charles kept him in the headlock, twisting his body into submission.

  Phyllis rose, her face colorless in terror. “Oh, sweet Jesus. Charles.” She struggled to find her composure, her hand shaking as she pulled out her cell phone. She breathed heavily. “I’ll call the police,” she said, her whole countenance traumatized. She keyed 911 into her cell. “Hello? We’ve caught an intruder. Yes, yes, my husband is holding him. 16555 Edinborough Road.” After the call, she slumped down, whimpering in stunned disbelief.