by Dijorn Moss
“No problem.” Victory hands me a bottle of water. “It’s not good to take pills on an empty stomach, so take a couple of bites and then take your medicine.”
I follow the doctor’s orders and eat half of my sandwich before I take my prescribed Vicodin. I sit on the bed and eat and Victory takes a seat in the chair next to the table and eats as well. I turn on the TV and we watch a rerun of A Different World.
“In high school my classmates use to tease me and call me Whitley.”
“I wonder why?” I say in my most sarcastic tone.
My comment is rewarded with a balled-up paper thrown at my head. I finish my lunch and hand the trash to Victory. It doesn’t take long for the Vicoden to kick in. I lie back in the bed and drift off to sleep.
A knock on the door wakes me and all that is left of Victory is her scent. That and a note on the table. While I am curious to know who is at my door knocking, I am even more curious to read Victory’s note. I get up and walk over to the table. The knocking does not cease, which means that whoever is on the other side of the door knows I am home. I unfold Victory’s note.
I enjoyed lunch and I figure I’d let you get some rest. Let me know if you need anything.
I smile, but another knock on the door reminds me that I have company. I pray that this is not one of Brian Perkins’s goons coming to finish me off. I open the door from an awkward position with my left hand and there is Pastor Robinson on the other side.
“Minister Dungy, I’m sorry to bother you, but I really needed to talk with you.”
How did you know where I stayed? I am off my game and that is not good. “Come on in.” I open the door wide enough for Pastor Robinson to come in. Once she is in I close the door.
“How are you?” Pastor Robinson asks.
“About as well as can be expected. What happened?’
“Brian got in contact with me. He wants to meet on Friday.” Pastor Robinson takes a seat in the chair that Victory sat in a few hours ago.
Time is relative when you’ve spent the last few days in the hospital. It takes me a moment to realize that today is Wednesday, which meant that we only have two days to prepare for this meeting. Lost in my thoughts I don’t notice that Pastor Robinson has started to sulk.
“Pastor Robinson,” I say to get her attention.
“I don’t want to lose him! I love my husband and I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t have the strength to fight.”
This whole experience has brought Pastor Robinson to her knees. I feel the same way and I think that it is only fitting that I help Pastor Robinson back to her feet.
I kneel down and face Pastor Robinson. “We may be pressed on every side, but we are not broken. We’re going to get through this, but I need to get Tony on board.”
Pastor Robinson looks at me skeptically, but little does she know that while I was in and out of consciousness I devised a plan that included the help of Tony Robinson.
Chapter Thirty-one
Pastor Robinson leaves shortly after our meeting. She left me alone to inhale Victory’s scent and to contemplate a drink from the refrigerator. I experience mostly discomfort from my injuries but no real pain thanks to the medication. There is, however, a drawback to the medication. While the medication numbs the pain it also makes me less coherent and as a result not as sharp. I am still coherent and functional, but I am also out of it.
The meeting is set for Friday which doesn’t give me a whole lot of time to recover. I could really use Jack Daniels. I open the refrigerator and I pulled out a little bottle of the infamous whiskey. I ponder how such a small thing carries so much power over me. I have been able to maintain my sobriety despite the crazy circumstances. I put the bottle back in the refrigerator and thus I regain some semblance of power and control.
While I wait for the Robinsons to show up, I turn on the TV and turn to CNN.
“The Husband Stalker. Two decades of terror,” the narrator says.
Life is not without its coincidences. I just so happen to turn the TV on right when CNN is airing a documentary on the infamous serial killer. I know why CNN is doing this; because recently the Husband Stalker was apprehended by a bounty hunter and a preacher.
But the image of the psycho having his hands around my throat chills my blood, so I decide to turn the TV off and have a seat on my bed. The pain from my wounds and the image of the Husband Stalker ignite my desire to drink.
“Lord, I thank you for your grace and mercy, which strengthens me when I’m weak and empowers me not to give into temptation and drink.” I conclude my prayer and feel a sense of relief.
A knock on the door signifies that the Robinsons have arrived. I get up off the bed and make my way to the door. When I open the door I find an eager Pastor Robinson and a reluctant Tony Robinson.
“Well, there’s no time to waste, so why don’t you come in and let’s get started.” I maneuver the door open to let both Robinsons in and close the door after Tony enters.
“No offense, but I was hoping not to see you again,” Tony says.
“None taken,” I say. I want to put my hands in my pockets, but my hands are still swollen.
“So what’s up? Licia is being real secretive and I thought that we were past that,” Tony says in reference to his wife.
“You guys will be, but there’s one more thing we need to take care of. With God’s help we can resolve this whole issue.”
“So what do you need from me?’ Tony asks.
“I’m going to get to you in a second, but right now I need to ask your wife something.” I turn to Pastor Robinson. “Pastor, I need you to come clean about something.”
“What?”
“I offered Brian Perkins $150,000 and he laughed in my face, but he didn’t air the footage; why is that?”
The question may seem irrelevant to Tony, but it isn’t to Pastor Robinson. Her face conveys that she knows exactly what I am asking her.
“When I was on camera I belonged to whatever man or woman they paired me with. When I was off camera, I belonged to Brian. When I left the industry, I also left him.”
I thought I would feel relief from the revelation that Pastor Robinson did have a relationship with Perkins; instead I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. Money problems are easier to solve than matters of the heart. With money it can be solved with money. All one has to do is agree on the dollar amount; that would rectify the situation. In matters of the heart one can be unreasonable and no amount of money could solve the problem. At this moment Brian Perkins could want anything from more money to Pastor Robinson leaving everything behind and coming back to him.
“Wow, your skeletons are really coming out now aren’t they?” Tony asks.
“Don’t start, Tony. This is hard enough.”
Tony jumped up in a fit of rage. “No, forget that! It seems like every time I turn around, I am finding out something foul about you. I just want to know what you’ve done for these guys that you didn’t do for me.”
“You can’t have it both ways, Tony. You can’t have a lady in public and a freak in the bedroom,” Pastor Robinson says.
“I’m not asking you to be a super freak, but I don’t want you to be the iron maiden either. But I get it now. See I understand now that unless it’s in front of the camera and I’m paying you boatloads of money then you don’t know how to be intimate.”
I expect a slap, but Pastor Robinson kicks Tony and then swings at his head. Tony shields himself from the heavy blows and I try to get in between but I end up stumbling over my own feet and I fall on the bed. A sharp pain rocks my whole body.
“Ministry Dungy, are you okay?” Pastor Robinson asks.
“I will be!” I pull myself up and go and have a seat in the chair next to the table. I take a moment to catch my breath. “Once you guys settle your differences.”
“What do you want from me, Tony?”
“I want the respect I deserve. I’ve been a loyal, supportive husband to you. I’ve endured a lot of scorn and t
rash talking just so that you can be the next Juanita Bynum. All I ask is for you to show me the love and respect I deserve. Instead you continue to ask more from me and I’m not getting much in return. Now I got to forgive you for your past. Do you know how hard that is for me?”
“Yes, I do,” Pastor Robinson says.
“You got your nerve. It’s not like you were playing fast and loose in high school. You did porn. You slept with men for money and put it out there for the whole world to see.”
“Yes, I did that! I did that because nobody was there to tell me different. I don’t know the first thing about being in a relationship.”
“So why marry me?” Tony asks.
“Because I love you and you were willing to love me.”
I wrestle the pill bottle open to take a couple of pills to kill the pain. I see the sunken shoulders of Tony Robinson and I know that he has lost the stomach for further combat. I am sure Tony now wonders if the woman he fell in love with was based on false pretenses. He wouldn’t have married Pastor Robinson if he had known her past, but there is nothing he can do about that now.
“Man, let’s just hear the plan of how we’re going to fix it,” Tony says to me.
I stand up and I try to put my hands in my pockets. I at least get the Robinsons to talk about the tough road ahead. That is the easy part. The next part is to sell them on the plan that I have.
Chapter Thirty-two
The next day all I can think about is how my entire plan hinges on Paul being able to find something concrete. Paul has never come up short and I don’t expect for him to now. At around noon I get a text message from Paul stating that he found something and that he is on his way. I reply to Paul’s text with the directions to where I am staying.
The sling that once held my arm now causes more discomfort than comfort. I manage to get dressed with both arms and while I am still not fully recovered, I am at least past the eye of the storm. My face still looks like I have been in a bar fight, even though the swelling has gone down considerably. It takes me awhile, but I manage to put on my traditional gray suit with an open white collar shirt. I feel like a fraction of myself again and after Paul comes over with the information, I will need to get going with following up on a few leads.
Thirty minutes later I receive a knock on my door and it is Paul. He has a perturbed look on his face.
“When you get back to L.A. you’re buying me dinner at Morton’s steakhouse.”
“I think I could manage that. Come on in.” I open the door for Paul and close it as soon as he enters.
“I got him.” Paul holds up the file and makes a beeline to the wet bar. He tosses the file on the table before he starts to fix himself a drink.
I walk over to the table and pick up the file. I rifle through a series of paternity suits, public fallouts with directors, and you name it. None of the information is reassuring me that Paul has gotten Brian Perkins right where I need him until I get to the end of the file and see a picture of a girl. The girl looks oddly familiar and it takes a moment, but I think I recognize the girl from when I first arrived and met with Pastor Robinson at the motel. This is the same girl who approached me as a potential client. It shows how small the world is.
I start to read the information attached and my heart aches with the gruesome details. “How accurate is this?” I ask Paul.
“Seriously?” Paul takes a sip of his drink.
I don’t know why I bothered to ask. Paul’s information is solid. He prides himself on journalistic integrity.
“If you need help I know a guy down at the precinct.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Are you going to be okay with this?” Paul asks me.
“With the Lord on my side, there’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Paul smiles despite having a mouthful of vodka. My plan starts to come together and there is one missing piece that will set the whole plan in motion.
The motel looks exactly the same as I remember it from two weeks ago. I thank God that my job allows me to change up the routine. As much as I bellyache about my job, at least the regimen of a different city and different problem to solve keeps me sharp and alert.
I go searching for the girl I met the last time I was here. Her face has been burned into my memory bank after reading her story and staring at her picture. It takes me a minute to spot her from all the other working girls who are leading their clients into the rooms. She wears a platinum blond wig, but her profile matches the profile of the girl, so I approach both her and her client.
“Sorry, boss, you’re going to have to wait your turn,” the client says before he looks at the girl. “Tell him, Roxy.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out a knot of money. I peel off five one hundred dollar bills and extend them to the man.
“I’m not trying to cut; I just need ten minutes of the lady’s time.”
The man hesitates before he takes the money. I then set my sights on the girl. “And, Roxy, I’m willing to pay you a thousand dollars for ten minutes.” I peel off ten bills and hand them to her.
“Ben, honey, let Roxy take care of this eager gentleman and then we’ll party,” Roxy says to her client before she puts the money in her bra. “Go wait in the car, daddy, until I go get you.”
“Sure thing. Sweet thing!” Ben leaves and Roxy signals for me to follow her into the hotel room.
I follow orders and I close the door once we are both inside.
“You’re not a cop, are you?” Roxy asks, to which I shake my head no. “Well, you paid for the time and you only got ten minutes. So let’s get down to business.”
Roxy starts to take her clothes off, and though she is tempting to look at, I have to resist. “That’s okay. I don’t want that, I just want to talk.”
“Oh, you’re one of those. Well, I don’t know if I can give you a thousand dollars’ worth of conversation.”
“That’s okay, because I want to talk about Regina Anderson.”
If Roxy could turn white, she would. The name Regina Anderson stops her dead in her tracks.
“I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Regina had dreams of being a movie star, so she moved to Hollywood to pursue her dreams of being an actress. But with the exception of a few parts as an extra, Regina got lost in the shuffle until she came across a director named Brian Perkins who wanted to make her a star.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Roxy asks.
“Because I know what happened to Regina. I know and I want to help.”
“You can’t help me. No one can,” Roxy replies.
“I don’t believe that. I’ve seen a woman in the same situation as you rise above her situation and become an influential leader in her community. She became this woman because of Jesus and that same blood is able to cleanse.”
Tears flood Roxy’s face. I have broken the barrier and the worst thing I could do was talk her back into defensive mode. I let the silence sit in for a few minutes.
“Your time’s up, mister.”
“Now the same man who hurt you is trying to destroy this woman and I need your help.”
There is a knock on the door. “Hey, time’s up!”
It must be her client who is waiting outside. Roxy gets up and walks over to the door and opens it. “Look, honey, we’re going to have to party later.”
Roxy reaches into her bra and hands the money back to him. Roxy closes the door and takes off her platinum blond wig and tosses it onto the bed.
“I’m not the woman you think I am. I have made a lot of mistakes.”
“Raven, (No inconsistency he was telling Roxy’s story to try to get her to help him with Regina.) I read over your profile and story. Most of the things that happened to you are based on the poor perception that you have of yourself. You need to change your mind about yourself and see that you can do more.”
“Why would God allow this to happen to me?”
“The Bible calls us to repent and that means
to change your mind. To answer your question, God just needs you to have a mind change about yourself.”
“What happens next?” Roxy asks.
“I’m going to get you into a program to help get you clean and when I need you I will call you.” I head to the door.
“Wait.”
I stop at the door and turn.
“You never told me your name.”
“My name is Minister Dungy.”
Roxy smiles at my statement. It feels good to be called Minister Dungy.
“Would you stay with me and talk to me about Jesus?” Roxy asks.
“I wouldn’t be much of a minister if I didn’t.”
Chapter Thirty-three
I have two hours until the meeting and I need some insurance. I go over to Spider’s place and I find him dressed in his bounty hunter uniform.
“Is this a bad time?”
“Not at all. I heard from your boy what happened. I would’ve been there, but I had this chance to track this person down and I was out of town.”
“I need your help.”
“I got you.”
I am amazed at how Spider just came up on a big payday and he is still out there catching criminals. He hasn’t skipped a beat with his job.
“Let me be specific. I need help from you and some of your friends.”
“Are you sure?”
I’m not sure about anything, but I also know that things could go wrong in so many ways. To ensure a victorious outcome is to do something out the bone.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I say.
“Are you sure about this?” Pastor Robinson asks.
That seems to be the question of the day as I drive along the freeway with Pastor Robinson in the back seat and her husband in the passenger seat.
“I’m not sure about anything but we have to do something and this is my best play.”
This is unfamiliar territory for me. I usually dictate the terms and dominate the conversation. I have to play my hand early.
Out of my peripheral vision I see Tony Robinson sitting there, quiet. “You all right, Tony?”