When he stepped up, Curtis put the palm of his hand on June Bug’s chest and shoved him back onto the bench with so little effort it scared the other players. They knew you didn’t mess with Coach Parker. But they didn’t know he had it like that.
Curtis pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. He stared down at June Bug, who was trying desperately to collect himself and act as if that shove hadn’t hurt.
“Now you really have something to tell the bishop.” Curtis held the phone out toward June Bug. “Here, call him. It’s on me, son.”
June Bug didn’t say a word, just glared at Curtis with pure venom in his face. He hated Coach Parker and would have done anything, including throwing that game, to get back at him. He got up and said, “Let’s go. We don’t need to practice for the game ’cause we got plenty of game.”
“The only way any of you will be at that game is if you buy a ticket. You are no longer benched. You”—Curtis pointed to June Bug—“and you,” he continued, and pointed at DeMarcus, “are permanently dismissed from my team. So take your little hoochies and get out of my gym.”
Curtis walked off without so much as a thought to giving them a backward glance. The team had been glued to the middle of the gym, watching all of this play out. When Coach kicked them out, Sherron Grey said, “For the Lord Most High is awesome. He is the great King of all the earth. He subdues the nations before us, putting our enemies beneath our feet.”
“Amen,” Maurice shouted out, to be followed by several more “Amens” from the team. He loved it that the team captain was so filled up with the Word that he could pull those verses from Psalm 47 at the most perfect time.
Curtis waited until the side door slammed shut and then blew his whistle to get the team ready for the real practice. Quiet as it was kept, he was glad those two little negroes had shown their butts like they did. He hadn’t just wanted to bench them. He didn’t want them anywhere near this practice session because he did not want June Bug and DeMarcus watching their moves and strategies. He knew they couldn’t stand the ground he walked on, and they would sell out their entire team if it meant getting back at him.
He was about to do a practice run with half of the team pretending to be the most intimidating players on the Bouclair side, but was stopped dead in his tracks by Maurice. Kordell and Castilleo had just walked in through that same side door, and Curtis and Maurice didn’t want those two to watch this practice, either.
Maurice leaned over to Curtis and whispered, “Is that particular door some kind of portal to the Devil’s family room?”
Kordell walked over to Curtis and Maurice, adjusting his coach’s whistle as if he were really getting ready to do something. He said, “Why are your grandmother and her girls walking around the grounds of the Athletic Center with huge bottles of oil in their hands, praying and speaking in tongues?”
“If you want to know the answer to that question, I suggest you get on your knees and take it up with the Lord,” was all Curtis said.
“He can’t do that, dawg. Because he don’t know God’s number,” Maurice said.
“Oh, you got jokes, huh?” Kordell said.
Maurice didn’t answer him. He didn’t want this next level of business to take any more time than necessary.
Curtis started over to where Castilleo was still standing. He turned back and beckoned for Maurice and Kordell to follow him.
“We have some quick administration business to take care of before we get into the practice.”
Castilleo sat down on the bench and stirred his coffee.
“So, what is so important that we can’t get practice going in a timely manner?” Kordell said, as if he were the one running the show.
Curtis could not believe the presumption of this negro. He had planned to handle this matter in a professional manner but thought, Bump that, and said, “You and your boy here are fired.”
“You can’t fire us,” Castilleo protested. “We have contracts.”
“Not anymore” was all Curtis said.
Kordell’s eyes narrowed. He was playing it cool but he was panicking inside. He knew that if Curtis fired them like this, he had done his homework and his decision was based on an airtight contingency clause. He just wanted to know what it was.
“Castilleo’s right,” Kordell said calmly. “You can’t just up and fire a man with a contract without due cause. We can sue you and this entire university.”
Curtis glanced over at Maurice, who retrieved two envelopes from his coach’s playbook. He handed one envelope to Kordell and another one to Castilleo, and then waited for them to open them and study the photos.
“I see you went out to Sock It to Me last night.”
“And what if we did,” Castilleo spat out at him. He couldn’t see what pictures of them getting lap dances had anything to do with their jobs.
“Well, what if I told you that those girls on your laps are only fifteen years old? And then, what if I told you that the next set of photos shows you, Kordell, and your boy Rico pouring liquor for these little teenyboppers? And what if I told you that a sting is going down right now as I speak, out at Sock It to Me?”
“And what if I told you that if we were in trouble, we’d be in handcuffs about now,” Kordell shot back at Curtis, who just started laughing and then said:
“Okay, so what if I told you that the only reason you have on a black coach’s warm-up suit instead of an orange jumpsuit is because Yarborough Flowers is running the sting and will leave you alone if you and your boy pack up your mess and get to stepping to wherever it is that chumps like y’all go to?”
“He can’t do that without any real evidence.”
“So you think a fifteen-year-old giving you a lap dance and drinking liquor out of your pimp glass isn’t any real evidence in the eyes of the law?”
“Why don’t we start with statutory rape,” Maurice said.
“We didn’t sleep with those hos,” Kordell said smoothly.
“You didn’t but he did,” Curtis said, wondering why Castilleo couldn’t tell that little girl was underage. Everything about her screamed jailbait.
Castilleo’s eyes got real big and that fool blurted out, “But I paid her, man. I thought—”
Before Castilleo could finish, Kordell hopped up and knocked him to the floor. Hot coffee went everywhere.
“I told you,” Kordell said in between a series of blows. “I told you not to pay that girl and to wait …”
By now the team had gathered around to watch this fight. They were athletes and a good coach-to-coach fight didn’t upset them much. They’d seen a few good ones between Coach and one or two coaches Curtis didn’t like. But a fight between coaches on the same team? And over some underage booty? That was a fight worth seeing.
As far as those young men were concerned, both Coach Bivens and Coach Palmer deserved to be fired and have a foot crammed up their butts. They were all under the age of twenty-three, and they knew better than to pay for anything other than admission, a dance, and for those twenty-one and over, something to drink at a strip club. And they also knew that underage girls slipped in, and they had learned to spot them out.
Plus, Sherron Grey’s daddy had told him which clubs were breeding grounds for legal trouble. Sherron was saved and didn’t go to the strip clubs but he made sure that his teammates knew where to go, and which clubs to stay clear of. And Sherron knew, just from talking to his daddy and godfather, Big Dotsy, that if there was one place no decent, self-respecting, and thinking brother should go to, it was Sock It to Me—everybody on the club scene knew that. It was a miracle that Coach Palmer wasn’t lying up in the morgue with his throat slit after laying up with one of the women at that place.
When Castilleo’s voice reached a feminine pitch, Curtis and Maurice pulled Kordell up off of him. Maurice helped Castilleo to his feet, and then smacked him upside the head.
“That was for the baby girl you should have kept your hands off of.”
“She was a ho,
” Castilleo said.
“She was somebody’s lost child,” Curtis snapped. “And I guess you were dead intent on taking the baby straight to Hell. I feel sorry for you. Because you have a lot to answer for.”
“I would, if I believed that hype about God and retribution. I’ve seen too many people do what they please and not have one thing happen to them.”
“Keep living, son” was all Curtis said. “But in the meantime, you and your boy get out and don’t come back.”
Castilleo staggered out of the gym smelling like stale, dried-up coffee. Kordell made an attempt to walk out like all that had gone down wasn’t about nothing he needed to be concerned about. But as soon as he got to his car, he put in a call to his boys—Rico, Paulo, and Larry. Those pictures Curtis and Maurice had were just the tip of the iceberg. He grabbed a tissue and wiped at the sweat that was dripping off his head.
As soon as the door closed, Curtis turned to the team in a feeble effort to try and get something accomplished at this practice. They had a game to play and win, and had not gone over one decent play. He took a deep breath and sighed, wondering how they were going to work this out in the time they had left.
The door opened on the opposite side of the gym and Gran Gran, Miss Queen Esther, Miss Baby Doll, and several other members of The Prayer Warriors came in carrying those big Sam’s Club–size bottles of oil. It wasn’t olive oil, either. They had real anointing oil that could only have been special-ordered from Theresa Green’s store.
Doreatha Parker had been so busy interceding in prayer for her grandbaby that she hadn’t seen the boy in weeks. And that was odd because they hated not seeing each other for too long. But the Lord had her sequestered in prayer, and didn’t release her to see Curtis until this morning. Doreatha was a seasoned soldier of the Cross. And when the Lord gave her instructions, she obeyed. Years ago she would have asked the Lord some questions. But now, when God told her to do something, she did it—no questions asked.
“Gran Gran,” Curtis said and went over to hug her. He wanted to run but that was so uncool. Right now she was definitely a sight for sore eyes. And she couldn’t have come at a better time.
Doreatha, who was tall for a woman her age, and a feminine version of her grandson, wrapped him up in her arms. Her baby had been going through. But it had to be that way to get him to where he needed to be. And if he had to suffer, then so be it. If that was the only thing to get his attention, then that is what he had to go through. But standing here, looking the baby in his eyes, Doreatha realized that all of that had not been for naught. This Curtis was a new creature in Christ, and the anointing was all over him.
“Baby, the Lord touched Baby Doll’s heart and led her to call us here to anoint the grounds around the Athletic Center, to anoint this gym, and to pray over you, Maurice, and the team.”
“And,” Miss Baby Doll added, “the Lord has a Word for you and this team. It’s ‘chill.’”
“Chill?” Curtis asked. “The Lord told us to chill? Chill?”
“Uh, yeah,” Baby Doll said, looking perplexed. “If the Lord said ‘Chill,’ why you questioning that, boy?”
“It just don’t sound like a Word that God would use.”
“So God has sent you a Word list that He uses when giving a Word?”
Curtis sighed. He should have known better than to try and argue with Miss Baby Doll. She used to be homeless and knew how to handle herself. She also used to be crazy and was now healed, delivered, and completely in her right mind. You didn’t mess with people like that.
“Look, I didn’t question the Lord when He told me to tell you to chill. I just obeyed and brought you this Word. Now, do you want to know the rest, or are you going to have a debate with me on the validness of chill?”
Curtis didn’t open his mouth.
“Umm, hmm, didn’t think so. Boy, the Lord wants you and these children to go and get some breakfast, then go home and get some rest. Then, He wants y’all in church tomorrow, and after that to rest and stay in prayer and the Word. He wants y’all to just chill. Trust Him because He has already given you this win. Now go and chill out so you will have the mental and physical energy to really play that game. You all have been working hard for weeks. And now it’s time to chill.”
The Prayer Warriors gathered around Curtis, Maurice, and the team, and indicated that they were to get on their knees. They poured oil in their hands and anointed everybody. Then Gran Gran started praying.
“Lord, in the name of Jesus, we thank You for bringing us this far. My grandbaby is now saved, sanctified, and filled with the Holy Ghost.”
“Hallelujah” came from The Prayer Warriors.
“And, Lord, these children kneeled before You, the ones who are now saved and the ones who are hesitating on getting saved, have hearts that keep turning, turning, turning, towards You.”
“Praise You,” Miss Queen Esther said.
“So, Lord, we thank You, we praise You, and we bless You in the name of Jesus. And, Lord, we praise and claim the victory over Tuesday’s game. Give this team a sweet victory. Place Your angels all in the parking lot, at every door and window, and all over this building to protect this team and these coaches. Lord, anoint them with abilities from Heaven to play like they ain’t never played before. Lord, keep them safe, and we bind up all injuries in Jesus’s name.”
“In Jesus’s name, Lord,” Sherron said.
“And Lord, let folks see Your glory at this game. Let folks know that the Kingdom is far greater than a church building. Your Kingdom is everywhere and extends to everything. For Your Word states that everything on the Earth belongs to You, and the Earth is Yours. Lord, this game and this win is Yours. We dedicate this game to You and give praises to Your name for the victory in Jesus’s name, amen.”
“Amen, amen, and amen,” Sherron said, followed by a series of amens from the coaches and the team.
They all got up and Kaylo said, “So, what do we do now, Coach?”
“Go over to Cashmere Estates and eat breakfast at the Senior Center. They prepared a meal for you all as a treat,” said Miss Baby Doll, who headed Janitorial Services and Grounds Maintenance Services at Cashmere Estates.
“And don’t worry about transportation,” said an older man with a white cane with a red tip, through one of the side doors. “We have the Senior Center vans outside for you young men.”
“Oooh, Lacy,” Miss Baby Doll said, grinning like she was a co-ed. “You so sweet, baby.”
“Heh, heh, heh” was all Mr. Lacy said as he got the team loaded up in the vans.
“How long is that honeymoon gone last, Doreatha?” Miss Queen Esther asked her best friend.
“Probably until Jesus cracks the sky,” was all Doreatha said, and then started laughing as they started blessing the gym and finished anointing it with oil.
TWENTY-FIVE
Curtis and Maurice were glad they had left their cars at the school and opted to ride the bus with the team. It was Family and Friends Day at Fayetteville Street Gospel United Church. This year’s guest church was none other than Jubilee Temple Holiness Church II, pastored by Sherron’s dad, Apostle Grady Grey. Everybody was excited about them coming. Everybody was here, and it appeared as if every single car in Durham County was in the church parking lot.
They hurried the team into the vestibule and signaled to Mr. Tommy, the head usher, that they were all in place and ready to be seated. It took a few seconds to get Mr. Tommy’s attention—he was knee-deep in conversation with Miss Hattie Lee Booth. Curtis had heard the rumors about some fireworks between those two but hadn’t given it much thought until now.
There was always some talk about Mr. Tommy, who was a widower, having a new girlfriend because Mr. Tommy loved women—and women loved him back. He was one of the few single seniors at the church who didn’t have to worry about cooking because every able-bodied senior sister at Cashmere Estates Seniors Apartment Building made sure that he always had something good and healthy to eat.
> But judging from the way Miss Hattie Lee was giggling and blushing and “swashing’’ at him with her fan, Curtis surmised that there was a whole lot of truth to that rumor.
“I think you better do more than signal to ol’ boy, Curtis, man,” Maurice whispered. “’Cause he’s not about to leave all of that fine alone just to seat a bunch of basketball players.”
Maurice scratched at his chin. “How does she stay so fine, man?”
Curtis shrugged, and made a mental note to ask Mr. Tommy that very same question when he caught him on one of his walks around Cashmere Estates.
Miss Hattie Lee saw them standing there. She poked at Mr. Tommy and pointed in their direction.
Mr. Tommy, who wasn’t very tall, looked up at all of those long-legged young men and said, “Lawd, what y’all been feeding these children over at Eva T. You don’t have a child in front of me who is under six feet in height.”
“Five-ten, sir,” Kaylo said, raising his hand so that he could be seen over his fellow teammates.
“Well, you come on up to me, so I can sit you up front so you can see what’s going on over all of these trees.”
The team followed Mr. Tommy to a special spot off to the side, where they could all sit together and the rest of the folks could see over their heads. Curtis looked around for Yvonne and her family, and then spotted his mother and grandmother sitting with them on the pew to the left of where the team was seated. As soon as the two families discovered that he and Yvonne were “going together,” they bonded and started making plans for Curtis and Yvonne’s future. And that included those two little missies, who had given him the thumbs-up when Reverend Quincey asked them what they thought about Coach Parker. That little Danesha told Obadiah, “We like him a lot. And now that he has made Jesus Lord of his life and shows that he has some decent fruit to back it up with, he can hang with us.”
Then she looked around carefully and made sure no one was in earshot, and said, “You know, Reverend Quincey, that my little play sister, June, wishes you’d talk to her step-grandfather, Mr. Rico. She said that he is mean and is not fair, and that she is reporting him to Jesus, but just thought you’d like to know that she has taken this to a higher Person. You need to jump in that, Reverend Quincey, okay?”
Up at the College Page 29