And if I did, I couldn’t imagine how Jeremy felt. When I
turned back to him, I saw the deluge of emotions that
overwhelmed him. There was a bit of joy in his eyes that I
imagined came from the hope of seeing the Robinsons again.
But then, the way his lips were set, I saw his fear of what they might say.
Taking his hand, I said, “This is a good thing. I have a
feeling that the Robinsons need you, they need their son. You
may be able to minister to both of them.”
“Then, I’m glad you’re here with me.” He sealed those
words with a kiss before he jumped out of the car. I opened
my door, but Jeremy was there before I could get out. He took
my hand, pulled me up and into a hug before we turned to
the Robinson’s house.
As we approached, I wondered if Jeremy had been holding
his breath the way I had and then I wondered if this had been
such a good idea. If Jeremy walked away from this more hurt,
it would be my fault.
40 | Gizel e Bryant
Before he rang the doorbell, I had the urge to pull him
back. I wanted us to cut and run. Head back to Xavier or
Dil ard, it didn’t matter. Either place would be safer than this.
But I stood steadfast as he rang the bell. And we waited. Then, he rang again. And again. And then again.
There were no lights on inside, but the day was just
beginning its darkening to night, so no lights meant nothing.
But what was clear, was that no one was going to answer.
“Maybe they’re not home right now.” That was the only
explanation I could give.
Jeremy nodded, but it still took him a few seconds to turn
around. This time, I was the one who held him and inside, I
berated myself. Why had I suggested this? Now, Jeremy felt
worse and he still had no answers.
As we got to the end of the walkway, a woman shouted
out, “Hey!”
We both looked toward the voice and saw a woman,
waving from a dark blue SUV—a BMW, I thought. Jeremy
and I paused as the woman, about thirty years old, slid out of the car and sauntered toward us.
“They ain’t home. They haven’t been home,” she said, as if
she were some kind of neighborhood watcher. But then, she
explained, “I’ve been here every day for the past three days and they ain’t been here. Do you know where they are?”
She looked at me like she fully expected me to answer
her question. And I looked at her, wearing a sequined jacket
with matching pants like she was heading to a New Year’s Eve
party—in the middle of April.
My Word | 41
Jeremy and I exchanged glances, then he said, “And you
would be?”
She did a little gangsta lean back and asked, “Who are
you?” as if she’d been offended by Jeremy’s question.
I put up my hand to stop Jeremy and took a step forward.
“You approached us,” I said, keeping the attitude that I felt
out of my voice. “So before we divulge anything, it would be
nice if you introduced yourself.”
She folded her arms as if she had no intention of doing
that. But then, she huffed as if she knew she had no other
choice. A slow smile crept up on her face. “I’m Shaniqua.”
“Shaniqua,” I repeated her name as a way for her to
explain further.
She said, “Ovide’s wife.”
“What?” Jeremy and I said together.
“I didn’t stutter.” She pointed to the SUV where four sets
of eyes peered back at us. “And those kids are Ovide’s kids.”
If I hadn’t been stunned into silence, I would have turned
to Jeremy to ask who was this fool?
“Look,” Jeremy began, “I don’t know what kind of game
you’re trying to run....
“It ain’t a game, it’s the truth.” She held out her hand as
if she were giving us proof. Her ring finger rocked a huge
stone—cubic zirconia. “This is my wedding ring.”
“Really?” Jeremy said. “So, we’re supposed to believe that
Reverend Robinson is married to you because of that? That
ring means nothing.”
42 | Gizel e Bryant
“This ring means everything to us.”
“You’re lying,” I jumped in. “Reverend Robinson is
married. He can’t be married to you when he already has a
wife that he’s had for almost forty years.”
“No, correction: he has two wives,” she said, like that was
a normal thing. “He has the one who lives here and then, he
has his family, that would be us, in Natchez, Mississippi. He
has a whole house there.” She glanced over my shoulder. “I
mean, it’s a nice enough house, but not as nice as this one.”
My heart pounded in rhythm to the thumping in my
head. Could this woman be telling the truth? No way. There
was no possible way. But Natchez was only three hours away.
Was that where Reverend Robinson went just about every
Saturday when he said he was in Mississippi preaching at a
youth center? My brain was exploding.
“Look, you don’t have to believe me, but I got all kinds of
proof. I got our marriage license, I got the deed to our house, which I was smart enough to make Ovide put my name on
it, too, and,” she pointed toward her car, “I have four little babies, who if we have to take a DNA test, will prove that I
ain’t lying.”
“Oh, my God,” Jeremy whispered my sentiments.
“Look, I ain’t trying to start no trouble, but I told Ovide
that I was getting tired of him coming home just once a week
and I promised him I was going to move here ‘cause these
kids need their daddy. And my mama told me to come on up
here and get what’s mine.” Looking at the Robinson’s home
My Word | 43
again, she said, “And I’m glad I did ‘cause even though he got me a nice car and a nice house, he been holding out on me.”
“I just don’t understand,” I said.
Jeremy added, “Neither do I. You knew Reverend
Robinson was married?”
“Yeah, I knew, but what’s that got to do with me? He said
he loved me more than he loved his first wife and he explained how man was not meant to be monogamous. He showed me
all the places in the Bible with all of those men like David and Solomon. I told Ovide I didn’t want to be one of fifty, but I
didn’t mind being one of two and long as he took care of me
and mine. The problem is now, I can’t find him.”
“You don’t know where he is?” I asked.
Shaniqua looked at me and then, she slowed down her
cadence as she said, “I...told...you...I...can’t...find...him.”
If I hadn’t been so upset, I would have gone for her. But all
I did was stand there and try to make sense of this nonsense.
She said, “So, can y’all help me? I need to know ‘cause
the money in the bank is gonna run out soon and somebody’s
gonna have to feed these kids. Ovide needs to answer my
calls.”
Jeremy and I glanced at each other before he said, “We
can’t help you. I’m sorry, but we don’t know where the
Robinsons are either.”
She hunched her shoulders
and we turned away from
her. Then, she said, “Guess I’ll just show up to the church on Sunday and tell the congregation what’s been going on.”
44 | Gizel e Bryant
The way Jeremy and I spun back around, it was like our
movement had been choreographed. “Uh,” Jeremy stuttered
before he pulled a card from his pocket. “Here, call this
number and ask to speak to Reverend Lewis. Maybe he can
help you. But do me two favors.”
Shaniqua asked her question by just tilting her head.
Jeremy said, “Call him before you show up to the church
and don’t tell him I gave you his number.”
Then, he took my hand and we almost ran back to his car.
Chapter Four
It had taken us days, no weeks, to get over meeting Shaniqua.
I still wasn’t able to add a last name to her first one because Robinson didn’t fit. It didn’t fit for so many reasons. It didn’t fit because it was UNBELIEVABLE.
But it seemed that it was true, or at least that was what
Jeremy and I believed. No one had come to talk to us, but the
signs were in the little things that were happening. Like how
Reverend Robinson’s name had suddenly been removed (as
the founder) from the church’s letterhead, from the assigned
parking space sign, and from his office. Then, Jeremy had
called the Robinson’s (like he’d done so often) and their phone had been disconnected. And finally, Shaniqua never did show
up at the church, though neither one of us had any doubt that
she would have if she didn’t get what she’d wanted. Something
was going on, someone had been paid off, though Jeremy
and I hadn’t been privy to anything that was going on. But
we didn’t need to be, we’d met Shaniqua. We knew the truth.
45
46 | Gizel e Bryant
None of that was my concern, though. All I cared about
was Jeremy and how all of this was affecting him. He’d been
crushed, but he hadn’t been deterred. If I’d bet that the truth about Reverend Robinson would have changed Jeremy’s mind
about being the Senior Pastor at Pilgrim’s Rest, I would’ve
lost a million dollars.
In fact, my man was even more on fire about getting that
chair on the altar. It was like he wanted to step in for his
father figure. Maybe make things right because Reverend
Robinson had done so much wrong.
But it wasn’t going to happen. Not that I had any doubts
in my man’s abilities, but there was a guest pastor bouncing
around the altar right now, who had just lit a flame to this
sanctuary.
Now, Reverend Robinson knew how to drop the word,
too. Many a Sundays he had members shouting out their
hallelujahs and waving their hands in the air. But I couldn’t
remember a time when everyone in the two thousand seats or
so that were filled, were on their feet, shouting and swaying, dancing and praising. I wanted to shout and sway and dance
and praise myself, but all I did was press my hands together
and rock a little. I contained myself because of Jeremy.
From the corner of my eye, I took a peek at him. He was
doing well, at least he was standing. Jeremy’s lips were pursed and his arms were straight at his side, though his eyes were on the pulpit, as if he were engrossed in the Reverend Derrick
Harwood’s teaching. It was an act, albeit not a good one, but
My Word | 47
Jeremy was getting better. He looked more engaged than he
had in the past three Sundays.
This was the fourth guest pastor in as many weeks since
Reverend Robinson had stepped down. And in those four
weeks, even though Jeremy still participated in the ministers
meetings, even though he still met with the teens in the
church, not once had Jeremy been asked to take Reverend
Robinson’s place in the pulpit. In fairness to the board,
Reverend Lewis hadn’t been asked either; everyone who’d
preached on Sundays were visiting pastors. But that was little solace for Jeremy.
“Saints,” Reverend Harwood shouted out. “The Word of
God is clear, it is consistent, it is correct and it is our decree.”
“Hallelujah,” so many sang.
“Amen,” others joined them.
I closed my eyes and tucked my chin to my chest. “Lord,” I
began my prayer in a whisper, “let Jeremy hear your word. Let
him have peace that this is Your will that Reverend Harwood
is here today. Guide his steps from this point, taking Jeremy
to the best place for him, the place you want him to be.” I
paused, then added, “And guide my steps, too, Lord. Amen.”
When I opened my eyes, Reverend Harwood was already
taking his seat and Jeremy followed. I sat too, but it took
minutes for the fire that the Reverend had set in the sanctuary to be extinguished and for everyone to settle in their seats.
I covered Jeremy’s hand with mine, then intertwined our
fingers. He inhaled, then exhaled, a sign that I’d calmed him.
48 | Gizel e Bryant
Now, my next goal...I squeezed his hand and turned to him.
When he glanced at me, I smiled. He didn’t. He just turned
his eyes back to the altar.
This time, I was the one who took a deep breath in, then
breathed out. I had to be patient; preaching at Pilgrim’s Rest meant so much to him and the thought of that made me hold
onto Jeremy’s hand tighter.
But he kept his eyes staring straight ahead, his gaze hard
on the altar, his lips pressed together. And his leg quivered
like he was in the middle of an earthquake. When he took in
a deep breath but didn’t release it, I squeezed his hand.
I kept my eyes on the altar, too, not wanting to keep
staring at Jeremy. But also, it wasn’t too hard to look at
Reverend Harwood. If Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. had a twin
who was born fifty years later, this man was it. Everything
about him was mesmerizing, from his manner to his looks to
his deep baritone that reminded me of Reverend Robinson,
this man had it all together in the pulpit. Even though he was now sitting down, I imagined that few eyes were on Reverend
Lewis, who now stood at the pulpit. All of us—men and
women alike—were staring at the guest pastor.
After the offering, Reverend Harwood returned to the
pulpit and he asked everyone to stand for the benediction.
I continued to hold on to Jeremy as Reverend Harwood
raised his hand and belted out in song, “May the Lord watch
between me and thee, while we are absent, one from another.
Amen.”
My Word | 49
“Amen,” the congregants said.
Then, everyone did something I hadn’t seen before. The
members applauded. Even though Reverend Haywood’s
sermon had ended minutes before, people stood, not moving
from their seats and clapped.
I could feel the heat rising within Jeremy.
When Reverend Harwood waved, then turned toward the
back doors, I breathed. Usually, the guest pastors personally
greeted the members, but we’d been told at the beginning of
the service, that he had to catch a plane to New York right
after our service. So there would be no meet and gre
et.
But then, I guess, Jeremy had a different idea. He didn’t
say a word when he hopped out of the pew faster than I could
follow and by the time I caught up to him, he was standing at
the back door (where Reverend Robinson or our guest pastors
normally stood) and he began holding his own meet and greet
as the first members exited the church.
I sighed. He was not giving up. He’d been lobbying,
calling each of the twelve members of the board, letting them
know of his interest. Many had the same questions that I had
for Jeremy: What about school? Wasn’t he too young? Was
he ready for that kind of leadership when he hadn’t held an
assistant’s position?
I stepped to the side and people shuffled through the
aisles, pressing to get to the front door. From my vantage
point, I watched Jeremy in the vestibule, his countenance much different now. He was full of smiles and warm handshakes. He
50 | Gizel e Bryant
even kissed a couple of babies. He was a pastor on a political campaign. I guess it was all the same.
Dru tapped my shoulder. “You okay?”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were here.”
“Yeah, girl. I was in my normal seat in the back with my
mom.”
“Oh, she’s here?” I said, looking over at the section where
Dru and her mom normally sat. “I wanna say hello.”
“She’s gone now. You know she sneaks out before the
benediction. She said she only came to church today to see
me since I never come home.”
I laughed. It was kind of funny that Dru stayed on campus
since she’d grown up less than a half hour away. But her
mother’s loss was my gain because we’d been roommates all
four years at Xavier.
“But whatever,” Dru continued. “She can come and see
me here every week from now on ‘cause I’m not gonna miss
another Sunday service. Not until someone finally steps into
the pulpit, and tells the truth and shames the devil about
Reverend Robinson.”
I shifted and looked away from Dru, feeling bad for a
moment that I hadn’t told my best friend about Reverend
Robinson’s second family. Even though we believed Shaniqua,
we stil didn’t know for sure if it were true. And neither Jeremy nor I wanted to spread any rumors about anyone. That was
not how we rolled, we didn’t gossip. And we weren’t going to
start doing that now.
My Word | 51
My Word_Interior.indd Page 4