Church Boyz 1 (Rod of the Wicked)

by H. H. Fowler

  “Sir, with all due respect, you know I’m not comfortable with dishonesty.”

  “It’s not dishonesty, Abraham. It’s called necessity. We are disgusting creatures at the heart.” Leroy thought about Shaniece when he said that. “Think about your own frailty. If you have indulged in your weakness and have fought to disclose it, then you are a hypocrite to judge me for my actions.”

  Abraham did not openly endorse Leroy’s words, but Leroy discerned they had sunken in.

  “I am not perfect, Abraham,” Leroy continued. “The story of David and Bathsheba sadly reminds me of those same internal demons that I wrestle with every day of my life. Like David, courage and fear walks side by side within me, knowing the horrendous mistakes that I’ve made could have devastating effects on my family and the people I’ve been appointed to lead. I’m not prepared to face the consequences.”

  “Do you remember what David’s son said?” Abraham asked Leroy.

  “I take it that you will quote it regardless of my objection.”

  “I have committed many of his words to memory,” Abraham said, inwardly smiling at the clever remark. Leroy hated to be admonished from those he felt were inferior to him. “Solomon was a very wise man–”

  “Who also had his weaknesses to contend with,” Leroy finished. “It just shows the greatest among us is not without faults.”

  “I agree. But Solomon recognizes an important principle I find to be the hardest thing for humans to execute. That is being accountable. He says, ‘He that covers his sins shall not prosper, but whoever confesses and forsakes them shall have mercy’.”

  Leroy cracked a half smile. “Accountable? To men or to God? These days, one cannot afford to divulge one’s private affairs to anyone but God. There are too many wolves in sheep clothing. Let me wrestle with my internal demons. At the end of the day, my resolve would remain intact.”

  “I will revisit this conversation another time,” Abraham smirked, amazed at how Leroy reasoned his way out of that scripture.

  “I take pleasure in entertaining you,” Leroy smiled. “Take the SUV home and be here for me tomorrow morning before seven.”

  “Yes, sir.” Abraham watched Leroy disappear through the mansion’s majestic doors.

  Their Staffordshire bull terrier greeted Leroy in the foyer. That unnerved him. The dog rarely paid any attention to him, except when Michelle was around. Frankly, he could not stand the dog and only tolerated it because of its fearless temperament. In a sense, it provided additional security. He left his briefcase on the marble terrazzo floor as he furtively inspected the area. The only noise that disturbed the silence came from the soles of his Stacy Adams shoes.

  “Eric? Sean?” he called, but he received no answer.

  The foyer opened up to the grand stairway – the focal point of eight thousand square feet of living space. He took the elevator to the second floor and felt relieved that maybe he was alone. He could unwind and use the time to flush Shaniece out of his system, if only for a couple of hours. However, the feelings were short-lived. He swung through the double doors of his bedroom and realized he wasn’t alone. The room reeked of Michelle’s powdery-scented perfume. Her favorite – Chanel No.5.

  “There are six things the Lord hates, seven, actually, that are detestable to Him.” The placidity of Michelle’s voice surprised even her. She kept her back turned toward Leroy, tightening the belt around her waist. “Haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and a heart that devises wicked schemes. I don’t think that I need to continue. I can construct my premise from any one of those three.”

  Leroy was a pro at taking charge of his emotions. How dare his wife scold him from the word of God? First, he was scolded by Abraham and now her. “I see you’ve come to your senses, or did your mother push you out of her house? You know, Delores has always been on my side.”

  “It is a disgrace the way that you lie so easily.” Michelle sidestepped Leroy’s first attempt to shove her over the edge. “If I was in New York, where were you?”

  “One day, you will understand that I will do anything to protect this marriage.”

  “Even to the point of telling lies to our sons? And to our parishioners?”

  He moved toward her. “Of course, if that what it takes. I can’t say that you desire the same – especially after that thoughtless stunt you pulled yesterday. You could have killed yourself.”

  She spun around to face him. “Maybe I would be better off dead anyway.”

  “Dead? You give up too easily. No wife of mine will kill herself by jumping out of a moving vehicle.”

  “Leroy, you’re so full of it. This marriage doesn’t mean a thing to you. The only thing you are concerned about is how your perfect image will be affected.”

  “Where are you going dressed up like that?”

  “You don’t tell me about your plans. Why should I tell you about mine?”

  Leroy finally gave into his annoyance. “Enough with the games, Michelle. I don’t have the patience for it.”

  “Oh, so you think I’m playing games?”

  He threw his coat on the bed and began to undo his crimson-colored necktie. “I’m a busy man with an important agenda. All day I sit in meetings, and I’m on the phone with governors and city workers and you’re standing there with–”

  “Leroy, are you having an affair with Shaniece?”

  Without another word, he sat on the bed and yanked off his shoes.

  “I asked you a question, Leroy.”

  “My hearing is finely tuned. I heard you the first time.” He stood up and moved to the other side of the room, noticeably upset. “If I tell you, no, you won’t believe me anyway. So how do I reason with you?”

  “That woman is always in your office! What you expect me to believe?” Michelle felt her eyes becoming moist at the ungodly image of what could be happening between her husband and that Jezebel incarnate. “Don’t tell me she’s sitting up in your face taking notes all day. You hired Brenda for that.”

  “At the present, she serves as the assistant pastor. Obviously, I will meet with her frequently.”

  “Tell Brenda to send her an email.”

  “Some things cannot be discussed in an email.”

  Michelle didn’t think she could have gotten any angrier. “My God, Leroy! What is it with this woman? If you’re not having an affair with her, what is she holding over your head that you can’t get rid of her? You demoted me and put her in my place…”

  “Now you stop running on with that nonsense. From the time we inherited that church from my father, you refused to take the position.”

  “But Leroy, I didn’t expect you to put a stranger, more so a woman, in charge of our inheritance. That was such a stupid move…”

  Leroy agreed with his wife, but he wouldn’t dare tell her the reason why. “She is what that church needs right now. Look at her track record. The membership has double since–”

  “Nothing you say could explain this foolishness to me. Besides, I am more than qualified to handle her portfolio. Did you check out my track record?”

  Leroy gave his wife one of those scolding looks. “My decision is final, Michelle. Don’t bring this issue up again…”

  She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She wasn’t getting anywhere with her husband. She grabbed her shawl from the closet, and then rushed around him toward the stairs.

  “Where are you going at this hour?” he questioned, following her.

  “None of your business.” Michelle’s heels sent clacking echoes through the foyer. “I knew this was a mistake, coming back here.”

  “It’s late, Michelle. I sent Abraham home with the SUV.”

  “My ride should be here any minute.”

  “Who’s coming for you?”

  “What were you and Shaniece chit-chatting about in your office today? Don’t deny it. I called.”

  Leroy found it difficult now to match Michelle’s asperity. “Church matters. It’s nothing important.”

 
“Lies! Don’t waste your time waiting up for me.” She exited through the doors at the sound of a sedan coupe pulling several yards down from the driveway.

  The commotion drew Sean to his bedroom window. He saw his mother climb into a car he did not recognize. He closed the blinds, and then crawled back into bed with a female who was five years older than he was. He wrapped his manly arms around her, bringing her closer to him.

  “Do your folks always fight like that?” she asked.

  “Who cares? They’ll probably get a divorce soon, anyway.”

  “Yeah, my folks got divorced when I was nine years old. I know the signs.”

  “What signs?”

  “The bickering never stops; it only gets worse. Next, they start seeing other people, or maybe that’s the reason why they are fighting.”

  Sean laughed. “Girl, you crazy. My parents are Christians. They would never sleep around with other people.”

  “Then where did you learn to do what you do?” she teased. “If you’re a Christian, you shouldn’t be sleeping around.”

  “Shush it, girl! My folks think I’m out with Eric. Besides, I never told you I was one.”

  “How old are you again?”

  “Old enough.”

  The minute Abraham exited off I-75, his phone chirped in the passenger seat. He glanced at the caller ID and wondered, What does Leroy want now?

  “Sir?”

  “Have you ever noticed any black Jaguars in the parking lot of the church?”

  Abraham narrowed his eyes. He was not certain what Leroy wanted to know. “Yes, there are several of them.”

  “XK-Series, huge tires.”

  “I can’t say that I am sure. It’s an enormous parking lot.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “I just pulled to a traffic light on Bush Blvd.” Abraham detected a measure of anxiety in Leroy’s voice. “Sir, is everything all right?”

  “Michelle climbed into a car I’m not familiar with.”

  Things started to make sense to Abraham. “Have you tried reaching the ladies from her church group?”

  “Come on, Abraham, that’s not a wise suggestion.”

  “Give me an hour. I will look into it, sir.” Abraham knew it was expected of him.

  “Call me at once.” Leroy brutally cut the connection.

  Within less than half an hour, Abraham called Leroy and told him Mrs. Wesson had picked up Michelle in her husband’s car. The deduction had been easy – apart from her mother, Leroy’s secretary was the only other person Michelle trusted with her business.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Cotton Club off North Howard Avenue appealed to the black clientele of Tampa. It was a hot spot for thirty-and forty-somethings, eager to crack a move on the dance floor. On Friday nights, the DJ took them back to Luther Vandross, Marvin Gaye, Otis Redding, and Al Green, deftly switching from old school to hip-hop to dancehall. The floor was elbow-to-elbow – in harmony with the music that vibrated through every bone in their bodies. Although the atmosphere was relaxed, it was not a place for jeans and T-shirts. The advertisements made certain its patrons came well attired. Most considered it a nice crowd. No fights. No disrespecting. No disturbances.

  Phillip Benjamin parked his blue Impala and then jumped out with his female friend, Dee, his secret dancing partner. From head to toe, he was attired in solid black. His favorite black silk shirt, neatly tucked into his favorite black-striped slacks, black shoes, black everything – a clean-cut fellow who even allowed his barber to arch his eyebrows as part of his grooming regime. He smelled like a fragrance store. Cars – every make and model lined the streets – paled in comparison to the people Phillip saw lined up at the door. Montel Jordan’s “This is how we do it,” whipped the atmosphere into a night of anticipation.

  Tonight was all about him and that dance floor. He was so good that he’d always left people cheering for more. He’d planned on opening his own studio in Ybor City a few years back, but his wife firmly rejected the idea, calling his moves vulgar and unholy and that it was not fitting for a new convert in Christ. Every time he brought up the idea, they fought about it. Her words were killing his passion and for him, dancing was who he was, not some business guru struggling to maintain funding for his inventions. So yeah, he sneaked around and searched for the best dance floors; to keep his moves polished, just until he found a way to get the studio up and rolling.

  Squeezing Dee’s hand, Phillip tried to block out the voices in his head that accompanied him each time he came to the Cotton Club. As a budding deacon of Mount Moriah and husband to the Bishop’s daughter, he knew he didn’t belong there. Yet, it was all he wanted to do. Being married did not stop his life of partying, as some people said it would. And the way things were going between him and Tayah, he welcomed the freedom of being out of the house – away from her nitpicking mouth.

  “What’s wrong? You look nervous or somethin’,” Dee said.

  “Nah, I’m cool. Just taking in the scene.” It was a line he always told Dee whenever she questioned his reticence. Her name was really Deanna, but everyone called her Dee. “Tonight feels different.”

  “How? It’s the same old crowd,” she said. Her smile became mischievous all of a sudden. “Maybe it’s conviction, deacon boy.”

  “Ha ha ha, very funny. I’ve come to terms with that crap.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yes. I only go to church to keep Tayah’s mouth shut.”

  “For how long?”

  “For however long it lasts.”

  Dee rolled her eyes. “That girl is stupid to be putting up with your nonsense.”

  Phillip nudged her playfully. “Hey, watch your mouth. Tayah is not stupid.”

  “I call it like I see it,” Dee smirked. “That poor girl doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into.”

  When they stepped into the building, they were immediately swallowed up by the music. They found a table near the dance floor and then ordered the same cocktail they ordered every week – Chocolate Soldiers. The first half hour had been dedicated to the King of Pop. The entertainer of all times, the DJ announced, the revolutionist, the late Michael Jackson. The screams from the crowd told Phillip that they were ecstatic about the DJ’s choice. Phillip smiled as he remembered winning several talent shows as a little boy while cutting steps to Michael Jackson’s, ‘Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough’, ‘Billie Jean’, and his all-time favorite, ‘Thriller’.

  “The floor is really crazy tonight,” Phillip observed, tapping his feet to the funky acoustics.

  “Yeah – this is my first drink, but I’m feeling a buzz already.” Dee pushed the drink aside and then raised her hands in the air. “Boy, I don’t know ‘bout you, but I’m ‘bout to hit the floor in these heels.”

  Dee may have been petite in body but was huge in personality. Two years ago, she’d met Phillip while cutting steps at The Castle, another dance club over on 16th Street. She was so impressed with his dance moves that she followed him out of the club that night and challenged him to compete against her in the parking lot. He readily complied, and they’d been dancing partners ever since.

  “I hear you, girl. I’m ready, if you’re ready.”

  With her hands still moving around in the air, she smiled devilishly. “What a pity you have to sneak around to enjoy the thing you love most,” she said. “I hear the music is good at Mount Moriah.”

  “It is, but it’s not the same.”

  “Philly, my friend, I will never understand why you married into that family. You know you’re no church boy.”

  Phillip laughed. “I told you I wasn’t. But there are other benefits to being part of that family.”

  “It’s crazy – the things you do for money.”

  “Who said it had anything to do with money?” Phillip took one last sip of his cocktail and then pulled his partner onto the dance floor with him.

  By the time Phillip got home, it was close to two in the morning. He took off his sho
es and tiptoed across the wooden floor, praying Tayah wasn’t in the vicinity. He wasn’t in an explaining mood. His wife loved the way words felt coming out of her mouth. Most times, it seemed to be running on autopilot. She never knew when to shut it up. He had to smile though, when he thought about how much fun he and Dee had at the Cotton Club. Three hours of endless enjoyment. He never had that much fun in church. The musicians at Mount Moriah were tight – well respected to say the least, but it was simply not his flavor. Dee was right. It was a pity he had to sneak around to enjoy what he loved most. He removed his wet clothes and left them in a heap on the washroom floor.

  He showered and then crawled into the bed next to his wife. And as part of his daily obligation, he coldly placed an arm around her, hoping she would let him sleep off his tired behind. But when she politely removed his arm and tossed it behind her as if it were a piece of trash, he knew he was in for a two-hour-long drama.

  “Hi baby, I thought you were asleep.”

  “Where have you been all this time?” She kept her back turned toward him.

  “Come on, baby, don’t make a fuss about nothing.” He faked a huge yawn. “Busy night at the office.”

  “You must think I’m the village idiot, Phillip.” She got up and then clicked on the lamp. “What could you possibly be working on at this hour in the morning? You don’t work for anyone but yourself. Not even a phone call to say that you’re running late–”

  “I did call…”

  “Lies, Phillip, lies!” She stood up, moving away from him. “I was pacing the floor, worried sick out of my mind. You could have dropped off the bridge and I would be the last to know. Last week was the same thing, the week before that was something else. Man up and tell me what the heck is going on. I don’t care if you’re cheating on me. At least I’d know what I’m up against!”

  “Wow,” Phillip commented. “That’s a mouthful. Where do you want me to start? I mean, we’ve had this conversation before–”

  “Really? You always steer the conversation somewhere else–”