Lady Arykah Reigns

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols

  “Service has started, Mother Cortland. Shouldn’t we head down to the sanctuary?”

  Myrtle couldn’t care less about what was happening down in the sanctuary. She was going to deal with Arykah right then. She ignored Arykah’s question and asked one of her own. “Are you and the bishop fighting? I told you once before that you can’t wear your emotions on your sleeve in this church. Women will use that to come between the two of you.”

  Arykah knew she wasn’t going to get out of her office until she opened up to Myrtle. She shook her head from side to side. “No, it’s nothing like that. Lance and I are not fighting.”

  “Well, what is it then? Why didn’t you let your husband escort you down to the sanctuary like you normally do?” Myrtle patiently waited for Arykah’s confession. Go ahead and tell me that you blame him for what happened to you. Go ahead.

  Arykah really didn’t want to talk about it, but she had no choice. “Lance wasn’t there for me. Everything was his fault.”

  Myrtle needed clarity. “What was his fault?”

  “The rape, Mother Cortland !” Arykah said irritably. “My miscarriage too. All of it was Lance’s fault.”

  They could hear the congregation and choir singing. Myrtle didn’t care. She was stunned at what Arykah had just said to her. “What do you mean? How is the bishop at fault?”

  Arykah looked at Myrtle directly in her eyes. “He wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Had Lance been home that morning, I wouldn’t have been raped.”

  Myrtle looked at Arykah as if she had two heads. That was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. Myrtle knew that Arykah was delicate. Her response to Arykah had to be a soft one. “The bishop was here, at the church, when you were attacked. So, he was where he was supposed to be. You can’t possibly be serious, Arykah. Are you really punishing him for not being at home that morning?”

  Arykah looked at Myrtle. “You’re taking his side.” Myrtle had been married before. Arykah thought for sure that she would understand that it was a man’s job to protect his household.

  Myrtle shook her head from side to side. “No. There is no side to take. That Monday morning, Lance left you alone and went to work just as he does every morning. How can you fault him for not knowing that a lunatic was gonna ring your doorbell? You think he’s a psychic, a fortune-teller, a wizard, or a genie? Lance isn’t any of those, Arykah. He’s a man. He has flesh and bones, just like you. He’s only a pastor. Okay? Lance doesn’t have superpowers that allows him to see into the future and stop disasters from happening.”

  Arykah exhaled. “You don’t understand, Mother Cortland.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong. I do understand. I was raped before.”

  Arykah’s eyes grew wide. She didn’t know that. The two of them have had some deep conversations in the past, but that was a secret Myrtle had kept.

  “And I did exactly what you did. I opened the door.”

  Tears appeared on top of Arykah’s lower eyelids. “Oh my God,” she cried out.

  “My next-door neighbor saw my husband leave for work one morning, then came and knocked on my front door. I heard him calling my name, ‘Myrtle, Myrtle, you gotta come! I need your help !’”

  Arykah was in disbelief. She covered her mouth but said, “No.”

  “I thought that maybe something was wrong with his wife. She and I were friends. Then again, I thought that maybe their house was on fire. I really didn’t know what happened, but it was the urgency in his voice that made me open the door in a panic. Then he forced his way in and raped me.”

  “Oh my God,” Arykah said again. That exact thing happened to her. “Why haven’t you told me this before today?”

  Myrtle shrugged her shoulders. “There wasn’t a need to tell anyone until now. It wasn’t my husband’s fault that I was raped. And I want you to understand that it isn’t the bishop’s fault that you were raped and beaten. You can’t put that type of guilt and burden on his shoulders, Arykah. It’s not fair.”

  The tears dripped onto her cheeks. “But I gotta blame somebody, Mother Cortland. I wanna be mad. I wanna spit. I wanna cuss. I wanna throw things. I wanna . . .” Arykah was getting all worked up.

  Myrtle reached across the desk and patted Arykah’s hand to calm her. “Of course you can be mad, Sugarplum. No one would fault you if you spat, cussed, or threw something. You certainly have every right to do all of that, but when it comes to being mad, Arykah, be mad at the right person. You opened the front door without looking through the peephole. You did that. You opened the door.”

  Arykah pulled her hand from underneath Myrtle’s and reached for a Kleenex tissue from a box that sat on top of her desk. She wiped the tears and blew her runny nose. “I don’t understand why this happened to me.”

  Myrtle smiled slightly. “You’re a pastor’s wife. That’s why it happened. You gotta have a testimony.”

  Arykah didn’t understand. She looked at Myrtle. “Huh?”

  “There are over 400 women on the roll at this church. What would you do if one of them came to you and said that she had been raped? How would you counsel her if she told you that she blamed her husband because he wasn’t there to protect her? What would you do? What would you say to her?”

  Arykah thought about the questions Myrtle had just asked her. “I would console her. I’d hug her and pray with her. I’d ask God to heal her heart. I would also recommend that she speak with someone, a professional.”

  “You mean like the way you allowed your husband to hug, console, and pray with you? Like the way he recommended you to speak with a therapist? The therapist you ran out on yesterday?”

  Arykah’s eyebrows rose. She didn’t know that Myrtle knew about that.

  “Oh, yeah, the bishop called me while you were taking a nap yesterday. He told me all about the way you ran out on your session. So, let me get this straight. You would advise a woman to do what you won’t do? Is that what I’m hearing?”

  Arykah sat in her chair boiling on the inside. How dare Lance tell Myrtle her business? “I can’t believe he told you. That wasn’t his place.”

  “It was absolutely his place. The man loves you. You blame him for your attack. You won’t let him anywhere near you. You left your first therapy session abruptly. And you freak out at every dark, bald man that you see when you know your assailant has been arrested. Of course it was the bishop’s place to call me. Someone has to get through to you.”

  Myrtle was the mother that Arykah never had. Having been passed around from foster home to foster home when she was a child, Arykah had basically raised herself. She was twenty-five years old when she met Myrtle. She served on the mother’s board at their previous church, Morning Glory. Arykah and Myrtle were a lot alike in character. They were both short-tempered and quick to get someone told. The two of them had become like mother and daughter. Myrtle had been at Morning Glory for twenty years before she recently joined Freedom Temple to be at Arykah’s side.

  It was at Morning Glory that Arykah was chastised by Myrtle for dating three men at once. It was Myrtle who called Arykah out when she overheard Arykah using not-so-holy language. And it had always been Myrtle who Arykah had gone to when she needed counsel or advice.

  “So, is this what this little meeting is all about? Gettin’ through to me? You call yourself checkin’ me?”

  At Arykah’s attitude a small sarcastic chuckle escaped Myrtle’s lips. Back in her prime, Myrtle would have had both of her hands around Arykah’s neck in a split second. Myrtle wanted to reach across the desk and squeeze the life out of her right then. “It would really be in your best interest, li’l girl, to realize who you’re talking to.” She leaned forward in her chair and raised her eyebrows. Myrtle gritted her teeth as she spoke to Arykah. “Don’t let the gray hair fool you. The bishop may allow your lips to get loose with him, but I ain’t the one to try, and you know I ain’t.” Myrtle’s neck danced. “Trust me when I tell you this, Honey. You ain’t the first pastor’s wife that I
done checked , okay? You’re a rookie. I’m trying to teach your young, wet-behind-the-ears, inexperienced behind something about being a wife. Try closing your smart ass mouth and opening your ears up to learn a thing or two before you destroy your marriage.

  “And if you believe, for one second, that Lance is gonna just let you do him any kind of way because you’re throwing hissy fits and having baby tantrums, you got another thing coming. He ain’t gotta settle for your crap. Not when he’s got unlimited coochie standing in line just waiting for you to screw up.”

  Arykah realized that she wasn’t the only one with a raw tongue. Myrtle shut her all the way down. You gotta reach the people on their level, Arykah , is what Myrtle had told her. You can’t be sugarcoatin’ thangs in your counseling sessions. Just tell it like it is. Arykah had learned from the best, and she herself was getting counseled by the master.

  “What makes you think you’re the only woman with a hole between your legs? Lance may be a pastor, but he’s a man first. You know who Sally is, don’t you?”

  Arykah frowned and shook her head from side to side.

  Myrtle sang, “Rise , Sally, rise. Put your hands on your hips and let your backbone slip.” Myrtle glared at Arykah. “Sally will shake her tail to the east for your husband, then she’ll shake it to the west for your husband . . . if you don’t. There are Sallys down in the sanctuary just waiting.”

  Arykah sat in her chair stunned and speechless at the same time. Yes, indeed, she had just been checked. She looked at Myrtle but didn’t utter a word.

  Arykah’s silence told Myrtle that her point had been made. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her ankles again. “Now, what happened to you wasn’t Lance’s fault. Sometimes, there are things in life that God allows us to go through so that we’ll have a testimony to help someone else. What you experienced was horrific, but God will use your brokenness for His greatest and highest good. You have to snap out of this anger that you have toward your husband and do the work that God has called you to do. You married a minister, which means you involuntarily became a minister as well. You don’t just get to play dress up. There’s more to being a pastor’s wife than wearing beautiful gowns, big hats, and high heels, Arykah. You can’t just show up at church and sit on the front pew like a statue for folks to stare at and admire.” Myrtle chuckled. “Is that what you thought being a pastor’s wife was supposed to be like? You have a calling on your life, Sugarplum. And you have work to do. You are destined for greatness. Now get yourself together. I’ve seen victory too many times to let defeat have the last say-so.

  “You and Bishop Lance, in ministry together, would be powerful. God had to break you to get you to where He’s going to take you. This had to happen, and it’s all for His glory. There are women downstairs that are hurting, broken, and miserable. Some are on the verge of suicide. How can you help and guide them if you don’t know where they are or where they’ve been?”

  Arykah pulled another Kleenex tissue from its box and wiped the new tears that had fallen on her face. She thought about her makeup and knew she must look like a hot mess. But for the first time in a long time, Arykah didn’t care about her appearance. Myrtle was messing her up.

  “You know Lance loves you, but God loves you so much more. To whom much is given, Arykah, much is required. You live in the biggest house that I’ve ever seen. Your wardrobe is ridiculous, and we won’t even discuss your shoe collection. I know what’s parked in your garage and taking up space in your driveway. You can drive a different car each day of the week if you wanted to. You may have spent money on those things, but do you really think that you don’t have to pay for that stuff spiritually? Well, let me tell you something, Honey. You owe God for the lavish lifestyle you’re living, and He’s collecting His due.” Myrtle glared at Arykah. “It’s time to pay up.”

  Bishop Lance had already preached a short sermon and service was just about over when an usher escorted Arykah and Myrtle down the center aisle to the front pew. Arykah waited for the associate pastor and Bishop Lance’s right-hand man, Minister Carlton Weeks, to bless the tithes and offerings. When the blessing was over Arykah went and stood at the podium directly in front of her with Diva Chanel cradled in her arm. She looked at all the people staring at her and suddenly became nervous. She turned and looked toward Lance who sat in the pulpit. He winked his eye at her. That expression of love was what Arykah needed to get through that moment.

  “Good afternoon, Freedom Temple.”

  “Good afternoon, Lady Arykah,” all the people responded.

  “Um, I know there are questions about my absence over the past five weeks. Some of you know what happened to me, and some of you may not know.” She looked at Myrtle who nodded her head toward Arykah. “A little over a month ago, on a Monday morning, I was attacked in my home. I . . . um . . . I answered the doorbell and was immediately hit in the face. I was dragged to my living room where I was raped and beaten very violently.”

  Many gasps for air could be heard throughout the sanctuary.

  “So, for the past month, I’ve been at home recuperating and just dealing with this whole thing mentally.” Arykah’s voice started to quiver. She looked toward her team sitting on the front row. She pointed at them. “I wanna thank these ladies for holding me up in prayer and seeing about me and just making sure that I was okay.” She turned to Lance. “And, Bishop, thank you for being the loving husband that I needed you to be. I thank you for your patience and for being by my side this whole time.”

  Lance gave Arykah an encouraging smile.

  Arykah faced the congregation. She was very emotional. She struggled to get her words out. “And I’d like to thank the entire Freedom Temple family for your support. I’m happy to be back where I belong.”

  Gladys, Myrtle, Chelsea, Monique, and Darlita all gathered around Arykah and hugged her. A young woman left the fourth pew, walked up to Arykah, and stood before her. She removed a pearl necklace from her neck and placed it around Arykah’s neck. She hugged Arykah and walked away. Two of the elderly deacons stood from their pews and approached Arykah. Each of them hugged her and both whispered encouraging words in her ear.

  A man that Arykah didn’t know walked up and extended his hand to her. “It’s good to have you back, Lady Arykah.” His skin was dark, and he was bald.

  Arykah’s eyes grew wide. Her whole body froze, and she held on to Diva Chanel for dear life. Lance saw her pause and rushed to her side. “Honey, this is Brother Henry McClendon. He drives some of the seniors to and from church every Sunday.”

  In that moment Arykah was able to shake her fear of him. She released a sigh of relief. “Oh.” Arykah accepted Henry’s hand into her own. “It’s good to meet you, Brother Henry.”

  Lance stayed at her side. A lady came and placed a shawl around Arykah’s shoulders, hugged her, and walked away. One by one, the congregation at Freedom Temple Church of God in Christ stood in line and gave Arykah jewelry, money, articles of their own clothing and many hugs. Finally, Arykah was accepted. She had earned the title as Lady Elect.

  But it was Monique who noticed two women still seated on a pew at the rear of the sanctuary with their arms folded across their chests. They were whispering to each other and looking at Arykah. Monique moved closer to Darlita. “What’s up with those women back there?”

  Darlita looked at who Monique was referring to. “Oh, girl, don’t worry about them. They are Mother Pansie and Mother Gussie’s pawns. The one wearing the yellow blouse is Mother Gussie’s granddaughter, Sharonda.”

  “That’s Sharonda ?” Arykah had told Monique that a lady named Sharonda replaced Mother Gussie as Lance’s secretary and Arykah also said that Lance informed her that Sharonda had been incarcerated. She’s had a crush on Lance for years. “What do you know about her? I heard that she was trouble.”

  “I can tell you this,” Darlita started. “Sharonda is crazy about the bishop and has been for as long as I’ve known her. She’s a bit wacko. Lady Arykah has noth
ing to worry about, though. The bishop keeps Sharonda at arm’s length.”

  “I see. Who’s the lady she’s whispering to?”

  “That’s Angela Moore, the bishop’s ex-girlfriend.”

  Monique snapped her head in Darlita’s direction. “What?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “Heck no. And I’m sure Arykah doesn’t know that her husband’s ex is a member here. She would’ve told me that.”

  “The bishop and Angela were off and on for years. They’ve both been members of Freedom Temple since they were kids. It wasn’t until when the bishop was called into ministry that he and Angela parted ways for good.”

  “Really? How come? She didn’t want to be the first lady of this church?”

  “Lance wasn’t ready to take a wife yet. She couldn’t accept his vow of celibacy. That’s what broke them up.”

  Monique looked toward the back of the church at Angela. That was the first time she’d seen Angela. But she and Arykah had only been at Freedom Temple for five months and with over one thousand members on the roll, and the women outnumbering the men, Monique understood why she hadn’t seen Angela’s face before. “Humph. Arykah should know that his ex-girlfriend is lurking around.”

  Darlita looked at Arykah still receiving hugs and well wishes from folks. “Well, I ain’t gonna tell her.”

  “Lance should have done that already,” Monique said sternly. She wondered why he hadn’t told Arykah. She looked at the two women. One has dealt with Lance intimately, and the other wants to deal with him intimately. I smell trouble , Monique thought to herself. A whole lot of trouble.

  After the benediction, Arykah and her team ascended the stairs to her office. Arykah unlocked the door and walked inside. The first thing she did was kick off her stilettos. “Lawd Jaysus, my feet are singin’ a song.” Arykah’s feet hurt so badly, she had to stumble barefoot over to her chair behind her desk. She plopped down. “Oh, my feet. My feet, Jesus.”