by Carl Weber
“Give her some smelling salts, fast!” I ordered one of the ushers, who rushed over and did just that.
With a couple waves of the salt under her nose, Simone’s eyes fluttered open. “What the hell? Do you know how many noses y’all done stuck that thing in?” She pushed the usher’s hand out of the way.
“Simone, are you all right?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m all right. What happened? What’s going on?” She sat up and looked around with a scowl on her face—until her eyes landed on Aaron. Then a smile appeared. “Am I in heaven? Because there’s an angel standing in front of me.”
“She doesn’t look all right to me. She seems to be hallucinating. Maybe we should get her to a hospital,” one of the church elders stated. “They called an ambulance outside. Perhaps she needs one as well.”
At the sound of the elder’s voice, Simone looked as though a light went on in her head, reminding her of exactly what was going on. “Oh my God, you have to get help. He’s outside,” she mumbled. “He’s outside … dead,” and then she passed out again.
“I think you’re right,” I agreed with the elder. “She does need a paramedic. Go and see if you can find some help for my friend. Hurry. She’s passed out again.”
Aaron stood next to me rather unemotionally the entire time, but when the EMTs rushed in and carried an unconscious Si-mone out to the ambulance, I think I noticed a hint of concern.
“Aaron, can you drive me to the hospital? Simone doesn’t have any family in the area, and someone from the church should be there when she comes to.”
“Sure, First Lady.” Aaron didn’t hesitate. “You wait here and I’ll drive around.”
I was glad he agreed. T. K. and I had driven to church together that morning. I didn’t want to take the vehicle, not knowing what his situation was. Not able to spot him among the swarming crowd, I didn’t have time to waste.
I looked to Tia. “Tell my husband that I’m going to the hospital and to call me on my cell when he gets a chance.”
As Aaron headed for his vehicle, I watched Simone being loaded into the ambulance. By the time I found out which hospital they planned on taking her to, Aaron had pulled his Escalade in front of me. He got out, then raced around and opened the door for me. I climbed in as he waited behind me to close the door.
I couldn’t help but think, No free ass feels this time.
Aaron followed the ambulance as best he could, but after we got caught at a red light, I had to give him the remaining directions to the hospital. By the time we arrived in the ER, Simone had already been taken back and we were asked to wait in the lobby for the doctor to come talk with us.
Aaron kindly escorted me over to a chair. I sat down while he remained standing.
“Well, now that we got her here safe and sound, I think I’m going to go ahead and leave,” Aaron said to me. “Will you be all right calling Bishop for a ride home?”
“No!” I shouted, standing back up at the same time. Realizing how loud I was, I sank back down into my seat. “I mean, no, don’t leave. Don’t leave Simone here like this.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, Aaron let out a slight chuckle before he repeated my statement. “Don’t leave Simone here? But you’re here.”
“Yes, but you’re the one who needs to be here more than anyone else.”
Aaron put his hands up in defense. “Look, First Lady, I don’t know what Simone is running around telling folks, but it’s not like that between the two of us—”
I cut him off right there. “But she wants it to be.”
Aaron shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so. Not after she kicked me to the curb for some dude who was parked in her—”
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved my hand to show how insignificant I thought that was. “She told me all about that, and she’s really sorry. You’d know that if you’d just take her calls.” I think what I was saying was starting to sink in for Aaron. “Aaron, don’t get me wrong. I know my friend is a handful.”
“That she is,” he agreed.
“But I imagine you can be quite a handful yourself.”
He shrugged, indicating there was some truth in what I was saying.
“See there? Perfect match. Or maybe you two have simply met your match in each other. Maybe finding someone like yourself, seeing yourself in someone else, is exactly what the two of you need to reevaluate who you are in life.”
Aaron nodded. I could tell I was making sense to him. I would have loved to sit there with him and really drive it home, but that’s when I saw T. K. enter the lobby.
“Just think about that,” I said to Aaron. “Think about it while you wait here for Simone, okay? My husband just walked in, and I need to go see about him. So, can I trust you to be here for Simone?”
After a pause, Aaron nodded his confirmation.
Feeling comfortable that he was a man of his word, I went over and threw my arms around my husband.
I could feel a slight tremble. Pulling away from him, I asked, “What’s going on? Who was it that Simone was talking about?”
Looking right past me in a state of shock, T. K. replied, “It’s Smitty. Smitty is dead.”
I stepped back from him, and my hands flew instinctively to my mouth. “Someone killed Smitty?”
T. K. looked me in the eye, shaking his head. “No … I mean, yes, Smitty is dead, but the police think it was suicide. Although they can’t rule out foul play right now.”
There was silence between us. I was trying to comprehend what he’d told me and how Smitty’s death was related to his recent phone call with T. K. This whole thing was frightening.
“What about Maria?” I asked when I could finally speak. “Does she know? Did anyone talk to her?”
“Maxwell and I just left her. She’s in pretty bad shape. You might want to go over there when you leave.”
“I can’t. I rode over here with Aaron, and I think he’s gonna stay and be with Simone.”
T. K. looked over my shoulder at Aaron. “Taken a liking to her, has he? He could do worse. She’s a beautiful woman when she doesn’t have an attitude.”
“Maybe when this is all over, you can tell him that. I know Si-mone will appreciate it.”
“I might just do that.” He looked grateful for the brief opportunity to discuss something other than the nightmare at hand. “But anyway, why don’t you use my car to go see about Maria?” T. K. took out his keys and handed them to me. “I’m sure Maxwell will be here any minute. I’ll catch a ride with him.”
I took the keys from my husband. For now, I’d go see about Maria, but later, I was going to make sure I got a chance to corner my husband and find out exactly what was going on. Whether Smitty killed himself or someone else had been involved, there had to be a reason, and I wanted to know what it was.
The Bishop
23
I walked into James’s hospital room and was greeted with a smile. “‘Bout time you showed up,” he cracked. He was wearing an oxygen tube and had IVs in both arms, but his voice still had a lighthearted tone to it. Although he looked thinner since my last visit a few days ago, he was in good spirits. He seemed determined to live his last few days fully. The doctor had said he probably had less than a month to live with the way the cancer had metastasized. Then again, they had said that last month too. Good ol’ James was a fighter. There was no doubt about that.
I wished I could have returned the smile James gave me, but instead I could barely look him in the eye.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” he asked. “You look like you’re the one who’s been given a death sentence, not me.”
I sighed, tears welling up in my eyes at the image of Smitty with his head half blown off. “Man, James, I don’t even know how to tell you this.” I sat down in the hospital chair beside his bed. I didn’t want to upset him since he was so frail, but I also knew I had to tell him or he’d drive me crazy.
“What is it?” James leaned forward. “Did Aaron make a fool out of himself? Did the cho
ir flop?”
“I wish it was something that simple.” I glanced out the window.
“Then what the hell is it, T. K.?” James was getting more frustrated with me by the second.
There was no other way to say it than to just come right out with it. “Smitty,” I said his name as if that was all James needed to hear. I’d had an easier time telling my wife the bad news than spitting it out to my old friend. Maybe because I knew James and Smitty were close, damn close, despite the way James had felt about him lately.
“What about that Judas?” James snapped. “I can’t stand that two-faced MF!”
“James, Smitty’s dead.” I shook my head ruefully.
James pulled the oxygen tube out of his nose, sitting up with a grimace. “What did you say?” He looked like he wanted to slap the words back into my mouth.
I lowered my head again, exhaling before I spoke. “I said Smitty’s dead.”
James just stared at me for a moment in disbelief. “How the fuck did that happen?” he cursed.
Maxwell walked into the room as James asked his question. “From what the cops told me, it looks like a suicide, but they can’t rule out foul play until they get gun powder residue and ballistic reports.”
“Damn, here I am talkin’ bad about the guy and he’s dead,” James said. “Poor guy. I hope he’s got some peace now.”
“Yeah,” Maxwell replied sadly. “I hope so too.”
“We all do,” I said.
While we were all hoping that Smitty had found peace, I wondered if I would ever feel peace about this situation. I still felt some guilt about my involvement. How much did my interactions with Smitty have to do with his death? I was starting to think I would carry this guilt with me until Judgment Day.
“You know, this is all my fault. He’d be alive if I hadn’t pushed him so hard.”
“Man, don’t do that to yourself. I loved Smitty like a brother, but the Smitty who’d been rolling around lately was a snake for what he was trying to do to you and the church,” James said. “Besides, you had no idea what the truth was about Smitty. Me, on the other hand, I’d known this about him for years. I had proof of his little secret, but I just never used it until he came after you.” He shook his head. “Mmm-mmm-mmm. The secrets some of our members keep.”
“But he was being blackmailed,” I said in Smitty’s defense. “I think his back was up against the wall. Besides, before he died, Smitty told me that I needed to watch my back. That this was all bigger than him.”
“He did?” Maxwell raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I’m still not sure what he meant.”
I was deep in thought, and then something dropped into my spirit. “Hey, I have a question for you, Maxwell, since you’re so close to the police and the military.”
“What is it?”
“Can you get me a gun and a concealment permit?”
Maxwell stared at me for a second. “For what?” He folded his arms.
“For protection. I’m worried about my family, man. You do realize a man showed up dead in my church’s parking lot today, don’t you?”
“Yeah, and it was most likely the suicide of a troubled man,” Maxwell replied.
I tried to protest, but he said, “Listen, you don’t need a gun. Let me make a few calls. I can have some of my friends from Blackrock provide you and the first lady with security. You’re the bishop of a church, not a corner thug. You wouldn’t know what to do with a gun if the situation arose.”
“Okay, then you look into getting my wife security. I don’t need any,” I agreed without a fight.
“Look into it for them both, Maxwell,” James chimed in, and I rolled my eyes. “I don’t wanna hear it, T. K. We’ve been talking about getting you a bodyguard for years, ever since you ran for borough president. You can’t be rolling up in the hood like you do without someone to watch your back. We don’t even have to call him a bodyguard. We can call him your driver, just as long as he’s packing heat.”
“Whatever. It’s not the people in the hood I’m worried about,” I grunted. “But if we really wanna get to the bottom of this, you need to put your heads together and tell me who my enemies are in the church.”
“Who your enemies are?” Maxwell said. “Do you even have any enemies?”
“There was a time when I thought the word enemy stood only for the devil, but Smitty said that whoever is behind this is out to get me. That sounds like an enemy to me.” I turned to James. “So, Mr. Know-It-All, who are my enemies?”
“Well, Maxwell’s kind of right. You are generally well liked. You’ve ruffled some feathers over the years, but I can’t exactly say you’ve made staunch enemies,” James offered.
“Well, how about Deacon Brown and Trustees Duncan and Whitmore?” Maxwell said. “They all seemed to be hell-bent on blocking us from hiring the new choir director. They sounded like they wanted to destroy you, Bishop.”
“Followers, that’s all they were. What we need to do is get control of those boards and the women’s groups,” James said pointedly. As weakened as his body had become, James continued to show that his mind was still sharp. “We control them, then we pretty much control the entire church. Then can’t nobody hurt you in the church.”
“Well, I know from the way she spoke at the last meeting before the vote that Simone is on our side,” I offered.
James gave a little snort of disgust. “Keep your eye on that woman, T. K. She may be acting all nice now, but a tiger don’t change her stripes. She’s only cool as long as she gets what she wants. Let’s hope that the choir director of yours she’s been chasing keeps her occupied.” I wondered how James knew about Simone’s interest in Aaron, but now wasn’t the time to ask him about his sources.
“Maxwell, I know you have a lot on your plate, but with Smitty dead, I think it’s time you took over as chairman of the deacons’ board,” I said confidently.
Maxwell tried to conceal a grin. I knew he relished the idea of taking a position of leadership at a church he loved as much as James and I did. Still, he didn’t reveal his enthusiasm. “Bishop, you know I’ll do whatever it takes to help you and the church, but I’ve been gone a while. I’m not sure folks won’t like me trying to bully my way in. Some might even see it as me taking advantage of Smitty’s death.”
James scratched his skinny chin. “Bishop, when I was in the church, I had more enemies than you—many of them female. I can’t remember anyone particularly disliking you. Sure, we all have haters, but not enough to do this.”
My phone rang, signaling a call from my wife. Although it could be quite embarrassing for me at times, she liked me to have Aretha Franklin’s “Natural Woman” as her ringtone. She figured with that song playing on a grown man’s phone, I’d be quick to take all her calls. I reached down to my waistband to pull out my mobile phone.
“Wait just a minute.” I held up a finger to James and Maxwell, and then excused myself by turning away. “Hey, baby,” I said, talking into my cell phone.
“How’s James?” Monique asked.
“He’s doing okay.”
Monique paused. “I have to ask you a question.”
“What is it?”
“Did you by any chance buy me three dozen roses and those Godiva chocolate truffles I love?”
“No. Why? Was I supposed to?” I searched my mind to see if I’d forgotten anything important like a birthday, holiday, or anniversary.
“It would have been nice, but someone beat you to it.”
“What?” I said it so loud that both Maxwell and James turned toward me.
“Yep, someone left a huge box of truffles and roses on my car seat. I found it once I got home. And that’s not all. Whoever this somebody is left a card that was typewritten. It reads …” I heard Monique rustling a piece of paper. “‘I just wanted you to know that I live and breathe for you.’”
“Monique, I’ll be right home. Somebody’s playing games,” I said, then hung up the phone. I usually remained cal
m under pressure, but this thing was getting sinister. Who could be giving my wife gifts? Were they actually giving me a sign? I worried that somehow her secret admirer was connected to this thing that Smitty warned me about.
I turned to James and Maxwell. “Y’all think about what I asked you. I have to go home. I have an emergency.”
Simone
24
“Everything checked out okay, but I’d still like to keep you overnight for observation,” the doctor said as I sat on the examination table in a paper hospital gown.
“Oh, please,” I replied, jumping down off the table and heading over to the chair that held my clothes. “I know what that means. It’s code for ‘you’re in perfect health, but we’d like you to stay so we can bill your insurance company a few thousand dollars for a sleepless night.’” I snatched up the outfit I’d chosen specially that morning to catch Aaron’s eye. “No, thanks. I think I’ll go home to my own bed.”
“In all honesty, Mrs.—”
I cut him off. “It’s Ms., and I don’t need honesty right now. I need to get out of here.”
“If you insist on leaving, you’re going to have to sign a waiver.”
“Well, then give me the form, because I insist,” I replied sharply. There was no way I was going to be cooped up in this place any longer than I had to be. I was still trying to piece together the incidents that led me here, and I couldn’t do that if I was stuck in a hospital bed. Images of Jonathan Smith’s bloody body in his car kept flashing in my mind. I needed to get back to the church, or at least talk to someone to find out what the hell was going on.
“Okay, then,” the doctor said as he wrote something on my chart, “it will be noted as a discharge against doctor’s order.”
“Fine.” My nerves were on edge, and at this point, I didn’t give a damn what this young doctor thought of me. “Write whatever you want. I just wanna get out of here.”