The Assigned

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The Assigned Page 19

by A. D. Smith


  “I’m so sorry,” I say, making my way to Zeek.

  “Our wedding day …”

  “My God! Zeek?” How does one respond to something like that?

  “I just wish it would’ve been me, you know?”

  “Maybe she was ready and you weren’t,” I smile. I don’t know where the words come from, but they seem to fit.

  “Maybe,” Zeek agrees as he wipes his nose.

  “Well, she’d be proud of you now,” says Tre. “Strong man, good father, superhero …” Tre’s usually misplaced humor actually works this time.

  “Thanks,” says Zeek, holding up the frayed Bible. “And this was the one part of her life I knew so little about. So I feel like I owe it to her, you know? To at least give it a shot.”

  “Beautifully said, my child.” Anna’s stealth-like arrival startles us. “And did you read of your namesake?” she asks. Zeek nods.

  “Yeah, I did. Pretty interesting.”

  “Now wait a minute,” Tre motions with his hands. “Okay, you got me. I’m no Bible scholar, I give you that. But I’m pretty sure there’s no one in there by the name of Zeek.”

  “No,” answers Anna. “But there is the great Ezekiel.”

  “EZEKIEL?!?!” Tre and I loudly shout in unison.

  “Yeah?!” Zeek mouths defensively. “Gotta problem with that?!”

  “Ezekiel’s a wonderful name,” I say quickly.

  “Indeed, my child. In Hebrew it is pronounced Yeh’khez-kel. And it means ‘God is strong’, a name befitting for you. And he possessed the Gift of seeing, just as you.”

  “Yeah, I read.”

  “Wow,” Tre says. “Impressive, Zeek.”

  “Yeah, guess you were sleep for that sermon.”

  “Haha. Funny.”

  “Indeed,” smiles Anna.

  We spend the next two hours discussing the various paths that have led us to this point. Tre talks about his reoccurring nightmares and the burden of celebrity at such a young age. Listening to him talk actually gives me a glimpse into why he’s like that. The high profile life he’s carved out for himself would be tempting and difficult for anyone, let alone a 22-year-old. Tre turns off the ‘TNT’ persona and speaks from his heart. There’s so much to him when he just lets go.

  Of course, I talk about A’ma and Deacon Nichols. I think I even ranted on about my non-existent social life, but hopefully not for too long. One thing’s for sure, we definitely begin to see what it takes to walk in the others’ shoes.

  “So as you see my children, it is not just about this!” says Anna, raising a balled fist. “Remember, although strong beyond compare, Samson never reached his full potential. Pride, a haughty attitude, and an insatiable lust for women led to his destruction.” Anna walks gracefully towards Tre. “Do not let it become yours.” Next, she moves towards me. “Do not let religion rid you of relationship. You do not have all the answers nor can you do this alone.” Her words, although general, sting profusely. Maybe they’re not so general after all.

  Concern, almost grief, consumes Anna’s face as she makes her way to Zeek, taking his hand. “My child, do not let the uncertainty that troubles you, the fear you have of this new existence, do not allow it to tempt you to see things that are not truly there.”

  I try not to gauge anyone’s reaction, still focused on my own report. Anna faces us as a group now. “If any of you succumb to your personal temptations at the most unfortunate of times, you may suffer a fate similar to that of my circle. And there may be no one left to tell the story.”

  -----------T H E A S S I G N E D-----------

  “We won’t let that happen,” I say. “Just tell us what you want us to do.”

  The Prophetess looks to me, then Glo, and finally Zeek. Her eyes narrow as she speaks. “We train.”

  Prophetess Anna instructs us to change into workout attire. Finally we get to the good stuff. Wearing a tank top and shorts, I jog from the bedroom, lathering on a little extra lotion to highlight the ‘guns’. Zeek’s build, although not quite athletic as mine, is well proportioned. Tattoos slide down his arms. One reads, “ANGEL”. Gloria looks like she feels right at home in the light gray tee and blue shorts.

  Wearing her usual over-styled attire, the Prophetess inspects each of us. “Good,” she says. “Now, which of you is most robust?”

  “Hunh?” we shrug.

  “Athletic.”

  “Ohh.” I do my best to contain the laughter. “C’mon. You’re kidding, right?”

  “We shall see,” she says before switching gears. “Now each of you, on the ground! NOW!” Her boisterous voice hurries us more than the actual words. Push-ups, sit-ups, burpees, power squats. Nothing I haven’t seen before.

  “Is that all you got?” I say to Zeek as we sweat out reps. After a few rounds, we both begin to slow, though neither of us dare give up.

  “Getting tired already fellas?” Gloria boasts as she cranks out push-ups, now adding a clap between each one. Whatever.

  The drills go on for a couple of hours. Even with our enhanced strength, the Prophetess’ workout wears us down. Sweat beads like morning dew on the hardwood floor. “Hey you think we could get a break?” I ask.

  “Surely such a fine physical specimen as Tre TNT Turner, does not need a break?” Anna’s voice tinges with sarcasm.

  “Haha,” I murmur. “You have worked us pretty good.”

  “Indeed, my child. I tell you what. Take this time to refuel. This will be your last meal for the next few days. Our fast starts at sundown.”

  “Say what?”

  “You will abstain from all substantive nourishment. To strengthen the body, you must deny it of the very thing it craves. Only then can one truly see.”

  “So no food whatsoever?” Zeek asks.

  “Only liquids,” replies the Prophetess. “By removing yourself from physical desire, you shall discover your Gifts like never before.”

  “Well I’m ready,” says Gloria. Speak for yourself.

  “You all are,” smiles the Prophetess. “So go, sup together. Our training and fast resumes at sundown.” Anna leaves the room.

  “Is she serious?” The words burst from my mouth. “I don’t know about ya’ll, but I was right there with her till she said no food. I mean, mannnn!”

  “Is not that bad, Tre,” says Gloria.

  “Hmph, whatever! I mean, I get the no cursing, no drinking, no fraternizing with scandalous coeds. I get all that. But I need a T-bone, some ribs, a cheeseburger, an apple, orange—something!” “Well looks like you better eat a good lunch,” Gloria smirks.

  “Yeah, well let’s get outta here. I’m starving.”

  “Me too. I was starting to lose focus myself. What about you Zeek?”

  Zeek makes his way to the door. “You guys go on,” he says. “Need to spend some time with Christina. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Well looks like it’s just you and me,” I smile.

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Our first date.”

  “This is NOT a date.”

  “Blah, blah, blah …”

  ***

  I take Glo to one of my favorite spots in South Memphis—Steins. Gloria seems slightly apprehensive at first. “Don’t let the outside fool you,” I say of the aged, worn structure. Stepping out of the truck, she frowns at the sight. I offer reassurance by taking her hand. “The inside is a hundred times better,” I say intently, looking her straight in the eye. “I promise.”

  As we enter the small weathered building, a waitress instructs us to sit wherever we like. I choose a table far away from windows.

  “Mmm,” Gloria sniffs. “It does smell good in here.”

  “See, told ya.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal. Well besides the other day when my mom tried to turn me into a Persuaded … but that doesn’t count.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure that had to be crazy.”

  The waitress takes our order. I get the same thing eve
ry time I’m here. Fried chicken with greens, macaroni, and yams. Gloria opts for the turkey and dressing, another favorite.

  “To think my mom is finally getting better only to find out it’s just another form of manipulation …”

  “Yeah, but cut her some slack. The Persuaded got to her. That’s not the same as making you feel guilty for not cooking.”

  “No?” Gloria counters. “Well what about not having a life, not knowing the truth about my father? Not having a boyfriend since the tenth grade!” Gloria stops. Slightly embarrassed, she peaks at me to gage my reaction.

  “You sure that’s all your mom’s fault? I mean, why don’t you try letting your hair down or wearing a dress every now and then?” I say, slurping through a straw. “You just may like it.”

  “Is that so?” Gloria smirks. “So you can take me even less serious? I don’t think so.”

  “You know being feminine is not a crime. You won’t lose your powers by wearing clothes that aren’t three sizes too big.”

  “Our lives are at stake and all you can think about is seeing me in some skimpy outfit?! Typical!”

  “I didn’t say skimpy, I said—”

  The waitress interrupts with our food. “Ketchup? Hot sauce? Well you two enjoy.”

  Okay, let me try this again. That didn’t go so well. “Look Glo. You don’t have to prove your worth to me anymore. You stood up to Bale’s men. And that giant? I thought he had … well anyways, I believe in you.” The sucking-on-a-lemon look on Gloria’s face, softens. Maybe now I can finally bite into this chicken. “So what about your father?” I ask. “Have you talked to him?”

  “For what? I have nothing to say to that man.”

  “Well, if you can forgive your mother, you can at least talk to ‘that man’.”

  Gloria tries to hide the extent of her pain, but it’s evident in her words. “I’ve been lied to my entire life, Tre. And by the people I love the most. So what am I supposed to do? Just forget everything that happened overnight?”

  “Of course not,” I say. “But we need our minds focused if we’re going to defeat Bale. And you still got love for your mom right? And didn’t you say this guy was like a father to you?”

  “Yes!” shouts Gloria. “And that’s why it hurts so much. I mean my mom? She’s all I got. She’s been the same every since I can remember, whatever that is. But the Deacon, the church? They were my escape. They weren’t supposed to let me down.”

  “I hear ya,” I say, biting into a crispy edge of chicken. Like you said, your mom is your mom. Besides we all make mistakes, huh?”

  “Right!”

  “Even your mom. Even the Deacon. Even the church. Even you.”

  Gloria looks at me with suspicious focus before an impressed grin emerges.

  “Did you just use reverse psychology on me?” she smiles.

  “Who me? Of course not. But I will say, when you love someone, you don’t let one action erase all the good they’ve done.”

  “Really?” questions Gloria. “So when did you become Dr. Phil?”

  “Funny.”

  “No, I’m serious. That was actually kind of sweet.”

  “I guess a friend of mine has been showing me how to care for something other than myself.” Our eyes lock for a quick second before the moment ends. My attention turns to the neglected plate in front of me. The chicken practically screams my name.

  “Hey Tre?”

  “Yep,” I barely get out, biting down on the savory drumstick.

  “If we get out of this alive, I’ll wear something special just for you.”

  The savory drumstick nearly chokes the life out of me. Food sails from my mouth. “Say what?!”

  Gloria laughs as she hands me napkins. “A dress, Tre!” she chuckles. “Something nice I can wear to your father’s church! Geeez, what did you think I was talking about?!”

  “Yeah, I know,” I say, laughing at myself. “Just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

  All of a sudden, I’m not hungry anymore. Go figure.

  Chapter 22

  At nightfall, we reconvene to our plush secret hideout. “Did everyone enjoy their last meal?” asks Prophetess Anna. Our eyes meeting, Gloria and I smile. Zeek nods. “Wonderful, my children.”

  “Oh Anna,” says Gloria. “One thing before we get started. A friend of mine gave me an interesting tidbit on Bale.”

  “Go on my child.”

  “Turns out he was supposed to have some big press conference in L.A. but at the last minute, he changed it to Memphis. Whatever it is, it has to be big. Everyone has to get security passes and right now we’re on a waiting list. News outlets from all over are flying in. CNN, MSNBC, FOX.”

  “My child, have you a specific date?”

  “Yeah, umm, Friday. Not sure of the time.”

  The Prophetess scans the room as her mind goes into thought. “Prophetess, what is it?”

  “This gives us just over three days. We must do all we can to be ready.”

  “Ready for what?” asks Zeek.

  “Everything. It is no coincidence Bale hath tarried here for so long. He wants us close. This announcement must be very important.”

  “I’ll try to find out more tomorrow morning,” says Gloria.

  “Good. Now let’s begin. You all have specialized Gifts. The Gifts of Seeing, Hearing, and Healing. But you also share more personal Gifts as well. Discernment for one. This is what enables you to detect the Shadow. You should also be able to locate your brother or sister at all times.

  “I thought Zeek was the only one that has the Gift of Seeing?”

  “Correct, but you should be able to feel the presence of your brethren. You should also be able to detect the presence of Bale and his minions. Failure to do so means you’ve allowed something to cloud your Gift. It could be anger, sorrow, frustration, even love. Bale will use this against you.”

  Me and the others do our best to take in the seemingly limitless knowledge of the Prophetess. The lessons focus on life and warfare tactics. Some things sound like they come straight from an army manual. Others, from the latest Sunday School lesson. After a couple of hours, Prophetess Anna gives us a quick break. She returns from the kitchen carrying a tray holding three glasses filled with a watery substance.

  “Alright, my children. Our fast commences now. This vial is filled with water and minerals needed to sustain you for the next three days. You may drink as much as you desire, but consume no other liquid or food. Understood?”

  Hesitantly, I nod as we taste the sour drink. “What is this?” I frown.

  “Your victuals. Now drink up.”

  “Our what?”

  “It means food,” answers Zeek.

  Gloria quickly knocks out the 20-ounce container. Zeek and I take our time but eventually finish the bitter lemony-tasting beverage. “Some food this is.”

  “Now remember, you are warriors,” the Prophetess starts. You fight for a kingdom. A kingdom Bale wants to control. You must battle beyond any distraction, and emotion, any mindset that can be used against you. Weariness from battle, hunger, grief. Nothing must hold you back. Now close your eyes. All of you.”

  Out of reflex, we look at each other before obeying the order. “Keep them closed until I instruct you further,” commands our secretive instructor. I hear movement as abstract colors reflect against the darkness of my eyelids. After a few moments, Prophetess Anna speaks. Her voice is loud, though a ways off. She’s definitely not in the living room space anymore.

  “I have placed you all in different areas. It is important to know the welfare and location of your brethren at all times, even when your concentration has been influenced by outside factors. Allow yourself to remain blind to your surroundings and use your discernment to locate your counterparts.”

  Suddenly, the warmth of breath bounces against my neck. “Where is Ezekiel?” whispers Prophetess Anna, standing as what I feel to be directly behind me.

  “Uhhh, not sure.”

  “Focu
s!”

  Okay, you can do this, Tre. Eyes still closed, I divert all my attention to the thought of Zeek. Using all of my energy, I zone in. And that’s when the change comes. It’s as if my body goes to another plateau. Although I can’t actually see him, I can feel where he’s at. I just know. “He’s in the bathroom!” I shout.

  “Be specific!”

  “The one—the one in Gloria’s room. He’s leaning on the wall!”

  “That’s it!”

  Wow. My senses go to another level. It’s not as robust as the adrenaline or power that rushes through my body when the Persuaded are close. It takes more discipline to invoke this Gift. It’s like being at a high level of meditation. Prophetess Anna continues the exercise with the others. After a few attempts, she ups the stakes by moving people in the middle of rounds. Fatigue and hunger begin to consume us as we exhaust our mental and physical energy supplies.

  “Well done, my children. It is my prayer that circumstance is not nearly as dire when you face your adversary.” As Anna makes her way to the kitchen, I take a seat on the stiff floor. Hadn’t even noticed my clothes were dripping wet. The Prophetess returns with another tray. “This will replenish you.”

  There’s no hesitation on my part this time. I gulp down the liquid victuals as if I’ve been in the Sahara. Kind of tastes like Gatorade now.

  “Can I have some more?” asks Zeek.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Of course, my children. Drink up. We have several more rounds to complete.”

  She can’t be serious. But of course, she is. After a few more mind-numbing exercises, Prophetess Anna finally dismisses the day’s training a little after 11pm. By 11:30, the entire suite is silent.

  -----------T H E A S S I G N E D-----------

  Anna starts the morning exercises promptly at 7am. We begin with our liquid diet followed by two hours of physical training. Next, the focus exercises. Anna increases the degree of difficulty, moving some of us to the suite across the hall, stairwells, even the elevator. By 11am, pangs of hunger cry out.

 

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