“Yeah, it couldn’t have gone better, under the circumstances,” Tyler answered, rubbing the sweat from his forehead. Tyler threw his arm around Marquise’s shoulder. “What can I say? You came through, just like when you made that clutch touchdown. You remember back then, right? That was some courageous stuff you just pulled off. I’m glad for the outcome, too — thrilled, partner.” Tyler stared at his friend in amazement and admiration.
Marquise smiled back and looked Tyler up and down. “Yeah, man, you lookin’ smooth — decked out in all that body armor.”
Tyler threw his head back and laughed. It felt good. He lifted his fist for a fist-bump, which Marquise matched. “Come on, you got debriefing.” Tyler walked with Marquise to the police mobile unit and to the awaiting squad of Commander Holfield, Chris Haney, and Lieutenant Rogers.
The church doors swung open again to reveal Deshaun Woodson as he slowly stepped out, surrounded by SWAT officers. He raised his hands in surrender. How my life turn out this way? he wondered. In the background he could hear a group singing, “Not by might, not by power, but by Your Spirit, God.” The words sank into his soul as he scanned the crowd for the source of the good sound. Did he hear it with his natural ears or with the ears of his spirit? It don’t matter, he decided. The song’s life-giving words began to cut through the pain, the darkness, the fear, the hatred, the anger — and the sin.
The bright flashes of the cameras and media lights unmasked him, stripped him naked, laid bare his Deshaun persona. He looked straight ahead as he continued moving, edged forward by the officers. “Help me,” he mouthed his prayer. “If there’s a God up there, help me.”
Once again, the church doors opened. This time Officer Jonathon Collins emerged, surrounded by SWAT and the flash of media lights. Immediately, he was bombarded with questions, fired in rapid-fire succession.
“Officer Collins, did you murder Darrelle Moseley?”
“Do you and Mayor Henderson have a cocaine addiction?”
He walked straight forward, a stoic expression on his face. However, within him myriad emotions were battling. Regret, sorrow, fear, remorse, and humiliation were threatening to tear him apart.
Three years ago, I was the Law Enforcement Officer of the Year, he thought. Look at me now. I’m the officer who shot and killed Darrelle Moseley — right in front of his family. I’m the officer who held innocent people hostage. Inside a church, no less. Yeah, I am that officer — now.
Tears fell unhindered from Jonathon’s eyes. He looked up at the cameras and mouthed the words, “I am so sorry — for everything.” He continued forward, glancing neither to the right nor the left, as the SWAT officers made a show of arresting him. At first, he wondered angrily why they hadn’t done this inside the church but then realized they’d waited until they were outside to make him an example. He couldn’t blame them.
Back in the mobile-command unit, Tyler was busy seeing to Marquise’s needs when he heard a gasp from Lieutenant Rogers who was standing with him in the command unit’s doorway.
“Oh my goodness!” Dana whispered.
Tyler followed her gaze to see Jonathon Collins, her former police partner, being handcuffed.
She lowered her head and blinked rapidly. Tyler knew she was trying to keep the tears at bay. How often had he done the same in the midst of his own grief? He thought briefly of Laura and sighed.
“There are no words,” Tyler softly told her. As he patted her on the shoulder, she looked at him and smiled weakly. Tyler shook his head, still in shock and dismay at the night’s sad turn of events.
Lawrence stood on tiptoes to look around for Akil. They’d gotten separated in the huge crowd that had gathered behind police barricades down the street from Mannford Christian Fellowship. Finally, Lawrence spotted Akil several feet back. There’s brotha man. “Hey, Akil — Akil! Up here, man,” Lawrence shouted as he jumped and waved his arms.
“Oh, there you are, dude,” Akil said, squeezing through the crowd to rejoin him. “Every person in Mannford — they uncle and mama — ‘nem are out here, man.”
“Yeah, you right and finna straight-up get crazy,” Lawrence shouted over the noise. “Yeah, this stuff nerve wracking.”
Along with many others in the crowd, the two jostled and struggled in their effort to get a better view of the happenings.
“Please stay behind the barriers — behind the barriers!” the patrol officers yelled repeatedly.
“That’s cool, that’s cool,” Lawrence said to the officer nearest him.
“Man, Akil, this is crazy. Did you just see that news drone fly overhead?” Lawrence yelled.
“Yeah, this stuff showing all over Mannford.”
“Probably the whole dang country,” Lawrence shouted back.
Al and Misty stood just on the other side of the exit doors, both holding the mayor’s hands. They had asked and gained permission from SWAT to stay behind to minister to their former captor. The Holy Spirit had nudged Al to do so. He obeyed, even though he felt miserable in the pit of his stomach over what had taken place and the mayor’s hand in all of it. Al pushed back against his feelings, nevertheless. As a result, he and Misty had been able to extend every vestige of godly love and care to the mayor. “Remember, Mayor Henderson,” Al said. “There is nothing too hard for God. The Lord will get you through everything you have to go through. Trust Him to walk with you every step of the way. Can I pray over you?”
When the mayor weakly nodded, Al closed his eyes and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Lord God, Misty and I lift Mayor Henderson up before You. We entrust him into Your loving care, knowing that You will watch over him in every way. Heal him in his spirit, his soul, his mind, and his body. Let him know how much You care about him and love him. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
“Thank you, Pastor Al. Thank you, Misty,” he said, his voice now a raspy whisper. “I know these past few hours have been very trying for you. I wish I could take it all back. I-I just want both of you to know that —” His eyes widened, as he pressed trembling hands to his chest. “I am very grateful to you,” he said, panting hard.
“Mayor?” Misty’s eyes found Al’s. They both knew something terrible was happening to the man beside them. “Officer! We need an EMT in here!”
The mayor shook his head with effort even while he twisted his face in agony. “No,” he told her. “I put my life in the Lord’s hands.” He gasped and slowly continued to speak, struggling through obvious pain with each word. “I ask His forgiveness, and I ask for yours as well. I hope you both can find it in your hearts to forgive me.”
“We love you and forgive you, Mayor Henderson,” Al said. “Just as our God has forgiven each of us, we also forgive.”
Misty nodded, at the same time wiping at tears.
“All right, let’s go, Henderson!” one of the other SWAT officers said, looking sternly at them all.
The mayor nodded silently, his face pinched and white as a sheet. Very slowly he made an effort to get up.
“Mayor,” Misty lightly touched his arm to keep him from moving. “Let’s wait to get someone in here to help you.”
“No. I need to do this,” he said simply, moving slowly toward the front door that an officer had pushed open. Although another officer walked behind the mayor, Al caught the mayor’s eyes when he looked back at them. Mayor Henderson smiled a thin, pained smile at the two, then turned and followed the officer out.
At the sight of him, the media flew into a frenzy. Before the doors closed, Al and Misty could hear the reporters’ shouted questions.
“Mayor Henderson! Do you have a drug problem?”
“What is the nature of your relationship with Officer Collins?”
“Did you have anything to do with Darrelle Moseley’s shooting?”
Cloaked in relative anonymity, Al and Misty were able to leave the church building without notice.
Al kept his eyes on the mayor’s slow trudge forward. Mayor Henderson’s shoulders moved up and down with every effort to catch his breath. He’d raised his trembling hands above his head. As the figure became backlit with the blinding lights, Al had to cup his brow and squint to keep his watch trained on the mayor.
Then the mayor abruptly halted, violently clutching his chest. He stumbled forward and bumped into one of the officers, causing the officer to respond by training his gun on him, ready to shoot. Turning toward the church entrance, Mayor Henderson looked over at Al and then heavenward. “Save me, God,” he cried and collapsed to the ground.
The officers inched cautiously toward him — all with their guns drawn.
Al’s heart nearly beat out of his chest. Without regard for his safety, he grabbed Misty’s hand and ran toward the mayor. They pushed and elbowed their way to him, praying all the way that the Holy Spirit would intercede on the mayor’s behalf.
Al and Misty knelt and clasped the mayor’s hands in their own. “We love you, Mayor Henderson,” Al said.
The mayor smiled tightly and whispered back through ashen lips, “Love you.”
Paramedics, additional SWAT members, and police officers rushed over. Al and Misty were pushed aside as the paramedics, in a flurry of activity, began to employ life-saving measures upon the man whose eyes now stared blankly upward. The two stood side by side, shaken, as the paramedics loaded the mayor into the ambulance.
“He’s gone,” Al said gently and embraced Misty.
Chapter
31
Downtown something wholly holy was transpiring. LaTonya, who’d earlier passed out the protest flyers and later passed out bottles of water to the protesters, now stood in bewilderment. Amid the crowd and its pushing and noisiness, something was happening. This something that she’d never experienced before made her stand still and take it all in. The air itself felt fresh, clean. Turning slowly, a full 360, she could see that others had become aware as well.
A quiet fell over the crowd. Befuddled photographers scanned the protestors around them, then let their cameras drop down. Usually eager to capture the events, they were stunned to realize that they were a part of this great happening. A golden hush had fallen over everyone.
Was that a breeze? LaTonya thought. No, it was more than a breeze, but what? A lovely, fragrant, whisking rush of air rustled through the leaves of the trees. Gentle night calls of crickets were the only sounds she caught. Through eyes that had seen troubles, sore and many, LaTonya continued to scan the area around her. What’s happening?
With a surge, her soul somehow recognized the presence of the sacred, appearing like a mist around her. The Holy Spirit streamed down upon her. A mighty torrent of water upon dry ground. She stood among the crowd, discerning that every soul there was awash in God’s power, peace, and love. Wave after gentle wave flowed over them. Tears fell across her cheeks — a quiet testament to the profound sorrow she felt for the acts she had done that had kept her separated from her God for so long. A confession rose up in her heart and spilled from her mouth toward the heavens.
In all my years, I’ve never felt or seen anything, anything, like this. In amazement, LaTonya glanced over the crowd. Raucous just moments before and filled with incinerating rage, they now stood in worshipful awe.
Rocks grasped, ready to be thrown, now dropped to the ground. Peace had come.
“Oh, my God,” said one person reverently.
“God is real!” another shouted out.
LaTonya stared, astonished. God’s love was pouring out, lavished onto her — and everyone there. Somehow, in her spirit, LaTonya knew that the Lord had heard the cries of His people. He had seen the years of tears from their forefathers’ lynchings, their mothers’ rapes. Their hungry children’s cries had indeed risen before His throne. He who is touched by the feelings of their infirmities, yes — in His great love He had seen fit to visit them.
The Holy Spirit’s love and power continued to mist down heavily upon them. With the eyes of her spirit, LaTonya blinked at the sight of mighty warriors — angels standing in their midst. Many others angelic beings flew above them and around them — to protect them and insulate them in God’s great care.
The Holy Spirit stood with them. By profound revelation and wisdom, He conveyed to her, and she knew to each soul there, a powerful assurance that He had recognized their plight, their anger. He had seen their feelings of rejection, sadness, exclusion, and disgrace. The humiliation, loneliness, fear, and poverty they’d endured had come up as a memorial before God.
At first, some of the officers stayed their course in riot stance, but they too soon broke down as tears overflowed their eyes. Protestors and police alike were filled with the unspoken knowledge of God’s love and acceptance. Law enforcement stood in awe among the very crowd that they’d battled the night before. Each surveyed one another — the crowds and the police — stunned. Then, without reservation, they began to approach each other with handshakes, fist-bumps, and outright hugs. Young men who had once held and hefted rocks now stood together in awe and clasped hands with police officers.
There they lingered — not to protest or to police but to enjoy the love that God was showering down upon them.
Suddenly, a heavenly voice spoke. “The Lord will heal your broken homes, and your broken hearts. He will restore beauty where before you beheld only ashes. You will no longer tear down and destroy but will build up and strengthen; for you yourselves will be rebuilt, refashioned, and strengthened by God’s healing, loving, and caring hand. You will be known as Repairers of the Breach, Builders of Bridges, Restorers of Streets Safe to Dwell In.”
LaTonya joined the crowd as they dropped to their knees and wept openly at the revelation.
“Surely, this is God,” she said aloud. She placed her hands on her head, pushed her hoodie back, then stretched her hands upward to receive the Holy One, Jesus the Christ.
Chapter
32
Breaking News. Breaking News. Breaking News, flashed across Jan’s television screen.
The news anchor looked solemnly into the television camera and spoke. “We have reports that Truman Henderson, the celebrated two-term mayor of Mannford, has died. The mayor had just been taken into police custody when he suffered an apparent heart attack. His arrest was for his participation in a shocking hours-long standoff with law enforcement in which he and two others allegedly held three individuals hostage at gunpoint. Hospital staff, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, said that Mayor Henderson arrived in cardiac arrest and could not be revived. Mayor Truman Henderson was fifty-one.”
“Oh my. Oh, Lord, help,” Jan put her hand over her mouth. Because of his vicious, mud-slinging campaigns, Jan hadn’t voted for Mayor Henderson either time. Still, she felt sorrow for him. What could have happened with Mayor Henderson? she thought. Jan sat in shock, staring at the television screen. “Oh Lord, help us,” she prayed. “Help Mannford.”
After their debriefing Marquise, Al, and Misty stepped down from the mobile-command trailer and stood in the cool breeze of the late night. The entire area was still ablaze in the news media’s lights.
Marquise couldn’t believe he had survived that night’s events. Wow, wow, wow! he thought. He turned to glance at those he’d shared the past hours with. “Pastor Al and Misty,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t even know what to say to you all.” Marquise grabbed the two into a group hug. “What a night it has been! My, my, my!”
“You’re absolutely right, Marquise,” Al answered. “The Lord did a special work in there.” His eyes shone with unshed tears.
“God called us together for such a time as this,” Misty added softly, holding on to the men’s hands.
“He sure did. I can’t even begin to say how thankful I am for you both. You all saved my butt more than once in there. Just want to tell you —” he said, pausing to keep the t
ears back. “Just want to tell you that what you did, how you helped us all in there only God knows your reward. I thought for sho’ that it was all over for me, that I was gon’ to lose my life tonight. But because of you all, I found my life. I met the Lord in there, Pastor Al, Misty. I met Him. I know you blessed Mayor Henderson, Deshaun, and Jonathon too. Crazy as it sounds, I wouldn’t trade this night for anything.”
Misty laughed lightly. “We’re equally blessed to have been right in the middle of what the Lord did tonight.”
“You’re right. I feel this is a beginning, though, and not an end,” Al said. “The Lord has so many wonderful things planned for Mannford. I know it now more than ever. Let’s stay close by His side and make ourselves available to Him so that He can use us in the way He wants.”
“Fo’ sure,” Marquise said. He started to thank them again but was interrupted by someone shouting his name.
“Marquise, Marquise!”
His head snapped around at the sweet familiar voice.
Keiana was running full-bore toward him, tears streaming down her scared-yet-relieved face.
“Keiana,” Marquise yelled. His heart nearly melted. He ran to meet her, lifting her off her feet in a fierce hug. He kissed her over and over and murmured, “Oh baby, oh baby!” She felt so good in his arms. As the full realization of what he’d been through and what he’d almost lost fell heavily on him once again, he didn’t want to ever let her go. “Oh baby, you looking good, shawty,” he said and held her at arm’s length as he reveled in her beauty and the luxury, the privilege, of seeing her again. “Keiana, baby, c’mon, I’ve got some people I want you to meet.” He wrapped his arm firmly around her waist and led her to just outside the police mobile-command unit to meet Pastor Al and Misty.
Three Nights In Mannford Page 20