Former Rain-Forsaken Box Set

by Vanessa Miller

  “I don’t care,” JT yelled. “I need to get this bullet out of me.” He grabbed Jimmy’s collar. “This was all your idea – help me, man. Don’t just let me bleed to death while you ride out of here.”

  “Okay, okay. But no hospital,” Jimmy said as he turned into the Holiday Inn in the French Quarters. Once they were checked into the room, Jimmy dug the bullet out of JT’s upper thigh with his pocket knife, then wrapped a sheet around his leg.

  “You know they’re going to charge you for this sheet,” JT said through clenched teeth.

  Jimmy laughed. “Yeah, they probably will charge Charles Dewitt for tearing up the sheets and filling them with blood.”

  “Who’s Charles Dewitt?”

  “Guess who left his credit card in the glove compartment of the Deville?”

  “You stole that guy’s credit card?”

  Jimmy laughed again. “How stupid do you think this guy is – leaving a credit card in a car that anybody could steal at anytime? Dummy.”

  Since they were too paranoid to sleep, they spent the night counting money. One night of robbing had netted them two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Jimmy scooped up some of the money and walked around the room. “I always knew there was a God,” he said, kissing his loot.

  “Don’t mock God, Jimmy. Ericka used to tell me that God hears and sees all. So, since I’m already a thief, I’d rather not be seen as someone who mocks God also.”

  Jimmy waved him off. “Please. The man upstairs ain’t thinking about us. And He sure don’t care about us robbing a low life like Lester Grayson.”

  JT lay down and tried to rest his eyes, but the sound of someone walking on their floor caused his eyes to open. He grabbed his gun and asked Jimmy to check it out.

  A drunken couple staggered to their room after doing the night New Orleans style, no doubt. Jimmy leaned against the door and lightly tapped the gun against his forehead. “Man, will you get some sleep. Lester don’t know where we are.”

  “Maybe we should have rode out of this city, stopping at this hotel for the night was stupid,” JT said.

  Jimmy smiled. “Naw, it was brilliant. Lester will think we left town, and that will give us the chance to hit one more place in the morning.”

  JT shook his head. “Not me. Count me out, Jimmy. Robbing people is not what I want to do with the rest of my life. Now I went along with what we did tonight because it helped to relieve some tension with my mother dying on me like she did and my wife cheating on me. But count me out of the rest of your schemes.”

  “I can’t live on no hundred and twenty five thousand. I need a score that will get me through some years. Maybe help me start a business of my own. Buy a franchise or something.”

  JT could understand goals and dreams. He’d had a few before he married Mona and threw his life away. “Like I said, count me out.”

  Chapter 6

  They left the hotel about nine the next morning. Driving down the street they made plans for their new life. Trying to decide whether they’d go to Texas, Mississippi or Tennessee. But before they could get out of town Jimmy pulled the stolen car up to the Bank of Trust in Downtown New Orleans.

  “Why you stopping?” JT asked.

  “Man, I got to pee,” Jimmy told him. He pulled his gun from under his seat and slid it in his pants pocket.

  “Why you need a gun to go pee?”

  “Shut up, man. You don’t want none of this. Fine, I won’t split my take with you. Just get your butt behind this wheel and drive me out of here when I come running out of this bank.”

  JT rolled his eyes as he scooted over to the driver’s side. What could he do? He’d pulled off four burglaries the night before with Jimmy. He wasn’t going in the bank with him; so fine, if he had to drive that knucklehead away from this place, he would do it. But this was it; he was done with Jimmy Littleton. If he had to walk the twenty five miles across Lake Ponchatrain to get out of this town, he’d do it. He was done with New Orleans. Done with Mona, and done with friends like Jimmy.

  JT tapped his fingers on the dashboard, looking round about him, making sure the coast was clear. His pager was going off again. He pulled it off his belt loop and looked at the number. Like he thought, Mona had been blowing up his pager all night. Probably figured out that he’d caught her in the act when she saw that his car was in the driveway. Then an idea struck him. If he had his own car, he wouldn’t have to ride with stick ‘em up Jimmy. There was a pay phone on the walk across from his car. He jumped out the car to call Mona, to find out if the coast was clear.

  Pain shot up his leg as he limped to the phone. He dialed Mona’s number. When she answered the phone, he said, “Why you keep paging me?”

  “I am your wife, JT. I have a right to know why you didn’t come home.”

  “I did come home.”

  Silence.

  Something was up. The Mona he knew would be trying to talk herself out of the mess she willingly stepped into. He was sure that she already knew that he’d come home last night; she had to have seen his car in the driveway.

  Cutting through his thoughts, Mona said, “When will you be home?”

  Why did she let that go so easy? Why wasn’t she asking who he was sleeping with? Any other woman would have thought he must have been in bed with someone in order not to come home all night. But Mona didn’t care. Matter-of-fact, JT would put money on the fact that she was probably sitting in the house with that low-life, Lester, trying to get him to come home so she could start wearing black and letting her mascara run. He hung up on his loving wife, got back in the car and looked at his watch. Jimmy had been in that bank seven minutes. What was he doing, opening up an account?

  The car quit running. “Oh, no you don’t.” JT pumped the gas and started it again. When he looked up, two police cars sped past him and pulled up in front of the bank. JT almost peed his pants when he saw the officers jump out of their cars and run into the bank with guns drawn. He eased out of his spot and made sure to do the speed limit as he turned the corner. Sweat trickled from his forehead as the police car sped by him again. He saw Jimmy’s side profile in the back of the car. His lips were moving and JT imagined that he was spilling his guts to the cops trying to plead his time down.

  JT prayed like he’d never prayed in his life. He prayed harder than he did when Ericka took him to her church so that God would take the lust out of his heart so he’d forget about Mona and stay with the woman he loved. Crossing Lake Ponchatrain he told God, “If you get me out of this, I swear I’ll serve You.”

  JT was tired. He’d lived this go nowhere life for twenty two years too long. His mother had been a junkie who never cared about what concerned him. He hadn’t held a job in months and had no prospects in sight. He needed a new life. A chance. He wondered if what Ericka told him about God sitting on His throne just waiting to forgive and forget was really true. He wanted, no, needed something different than anything he’d ever known.

  He kept driving, praying. He still wasn’t sure where he was going, or what he would do. Well, he did know that he needed to get to a hospital. But he needed to be far away from New Orleans so no one would connect his bullet wound with the multiple drug house robberies he and Jimmy pulled off. So he just kept driving and hoping that the bleeding had stopped for good. Entering Alabama, JT realized that he’d been so caught up in his prayers that he’d forgotten to check the gas gage. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until the check gage light came on that he even thought about gas. With no gas station in sight the car puttered into an empty lot. He stumbled out of the car, screaming in pain each time his left leg connected with the pavement. Hadn’t God heard his plea for help?

  Putting his hands on top of his head, he stood in the middle of the parking lot. That’s when he noticed that he had a fever. His head was hotter than a baker’s oven. His vision was blurring. But he could see the church building in front of him. A man stepped out of the building and began walking towards him. Maybe
it was two men. Or maybe it was one gigantic man that kept spreading and splitting in two.

  His legs couldn’t hold him any longer. They wobbled and JT fell to the ground. Just before his eyes closed he saw the man standing over him, heard him say something about the hospital and he silently thanked God for sending someone to help him.

  Chapter 7

  Present day – November, 2009

  Pulling himself off the floor, JT went back to the mirror. The same handsome face he’d seen for thirty seven years stared back at him. The hideous monster was gone. Or was it still inside him, sitting back, waiting on the most opportune moment to rear its ugly head again?

  “JT, what’s taking you so long in there?”

  JT’s eyes widened as he realized he was still at Vivian Sampson’s house. When would this nightmare end?

  “JT?”

  “I’m coming,” he told her as he splashed cold water on his face and stepped into the bedroom.

  Vivian was stretched out on her bed like she was doing one of those Hot Girls 900 number commercials. She patted the bed. “Come over here.”

  And for the first time in years he felt conviction. Felt disgust. Felt the bile rise up in his throat and begin to choke him. He turned and ran to the bathroom, fell down on his knees and hugged the toilet.

  “What’s wrong? You got the flu or something?” Vivian asked as she followed him into the bathroom.

  JT couldn’t answer her. He was too busy barfing up his dinner. Too busy getting a taste of how his actions must feel to God. Too busy feeling sorry about not being a strong enough man to resist temptation.

  Vivian flushed the toilet as JT got up and rinsed out his mouth. He sat on the bench at the foot of her bed putting on his socks and shoes. Stepping toward him, Vivian put her arms around him and asked, “What’s going on? I thought you were hanging out with me for a little while today?”

  He couldn’t look at her. He stood and put his suit jacket on and adjusted his tie.

  “JT, do you hear me talking to you?”

  He turned toward her, but kept his eyes averted. “I’ve got to go home, Vivian.”

  “You sick?” She came toward him again, putting her hands on his stomach. “Baby, I can take care of you.”

  Removing her hands from his stomach, JT told her, “I’m not interested, okay, Vivian. I just want to go home to my wife.”

  Her hands went to her hips. Sista’s neck weaved and bobbed. “Oh, so that’s it, huh? You think you can come over here and jump in my bed, then after you get what you want, just run home to your wife like I’m nothing?”

  “It’s not like that.” He pointed to her bathroom. Wanting to tell her how afraid he was of the monster he saw in that mirror. But he knew she would just think that he’d lost his mind so he said, “I just threw up in there. I’m not good company for anybody right now.”

  She brushed her hand across his cheek. “You don’t have to leave – I can make you feel better,” she persisted seductively.

  He was tempted to stay, just climb back in bed with her and enjoy her company. But if he saw that hideous monster in the mirror again when he finished with Vivian, he would probably drop dead of a heart attack. And how would that look, for a married pastor to be found dead in the master bath of one of his single church members? He just couldn’t do it. So he walked away from her.

  “Don’t leave.” She ran to him and put her arms around him. “Stay with me.”

  Pulling her arms from around his waist he told her, “I don’t belong here.”

  She went wild then, striking and clawing him. He grabbed her hands and she kicked him in the groin. He bowed low; not to Jesus but to regain his breath after shock waves of pain shot through his body from Vivian’s assault.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked when he could speak again.

  “I’m sorry, baby. Please don’t be mad.” Vivian ran to the bathroom, got some tissue and brought it back to JT. “Here, put this against your face. It should stop bleeding in a minute.”

  Horrified at the thought of going home with unexplainable scratches on his face, JT went into the bathroom and examined his face. Vivian had gotten him good. Three huge welts trailed down the right side of his face. He turned on the faucet and splashed some water on his face. His cheek wasn’t bleeding anymore, but the white meat showed through one of the welts.

  Vivian walked into the bathroom. She had taken her clothes off again. “Come back to bed, baby. I’ll kiss your cheek and make it all better.”

  This nut needed a session with Dr. Phil. She had to be bipolar. “I’m leaving, Vivian.” He rushed past her so she wouldn’t have another chance to attack him.

  Vivian screamed at him. “I’ll get you, JT. Do you hear me? I’ll make you pay for the way you’ve treated me.”

  ***

  Cassandra put her children to bed, then went to her bedroom for some quiet time with the Lord. She picked up her Bible and turned to Proverbs 31. It was her earnest prayer to be like this woman the Bible described as being so virtuous. But it was obvious that she didn’t measure up. Her Bible read, The heart of her husband safely trusts in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.” And hadn’t those women JT fooled around with spoiled any hopes of a trusting and loving relationship with her husband?

  She was tired of pretending. Tired of trying to make this farce of a marriage work. Sometimes Cassandra even wondered about God. After all, she had waited on God. She hadn’t been like so many of her Christian friends running up to the first man who walked into the church and proclaiming that God told her that he was supposed to be her husband. No, she spent her lonely nights in prayer, trying to grow closer to God, to discover His will for her life. But God had brought JT into her life, and she was struggling to forgive Him for that.

  As tired as Cassandra was, she knew she still needed to think of Jerome and Aaron. Her sons were only three and nine months old. How could she tear them away from their father?

  She put her Bible aside and got on her knees to pray. She really needed some direction. Closing her eyes she began, “Lord, I have tried to trust You. But I’ve got to be honest; this thing with JT is taking me past my endurance.

  “You know that I was not looking for a man when You brought JT into my life. I just wanted to grow closer to You. So, I’m having a hard time understanding why You would give him to me, if he wasn’t going to treat me right.”

  She exhaled and wiped the tears that had fallen on her face. “I love You, Lord, and I love my husband. I just don’t know if I like him anymore. I need Your help. I need You to mend my heart so that I can be this Proverbs 31 woman.”

  After ending her prayer, she got off the floor and went to check on her children. Jerome and Aaron were still asleep. She knew that Aaron wouldn’t sleep much longer, he never did. She would be so glad when that one learned to sleep through the night.

  She went into the kitchen to fix herself some hot chocolate. As she was stirring the mix into the hot water she’d boiled in the microwave, the telephone rang. She picked up the receiver with one hand and kept stirring her cocoa with the other. “Praise the Lord,” Cassandra answered with her usual greeting.

  The woman cleared her throat. “Uh, hello First Lady, this is Diane Benson.”

  “How are you doing, Diane?”

  The church had over three thousand members. Therefore they had numerous elders, deacons and ministers assigned to handle parishioner concerns, but every now and then, one of them would get ahold of their home number and call for prayer or for information about the different ministries within the church. But Diane was the wife of one of their deacons. Cassandra received calls from the women in leadership, because they usually worked on church committees. However, Diane didn’t work on any committees so Cassandra was a little confused about the call.

  “I don’t know how to tell you this,” Diane began.

  Cassandra gripped the telephone tighter. Instinct told her to sit down.


  “When I first came to your church, I really wanted to get closer to God. But… but JT, I mean Pastor Thomas…”

  “Go on,” Cassandra encouraged when Diane’s voice trailed off.

  “I guess there’s no easy way to say this. So I should just come right out with it. I’ve been sleeping with your husband.”

  This revelation didn’t shock Cassandra. Many women had slept with her husband. She’d moved past shock-ability years ago. When she responded to Diane her words were calm. “How long has this been going on?”

  “About a year,” Diane told her then added, “Anyway, the thing is,” she hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath and then said, “The baby girl I just had belongs to JT.”

  Chapter 8

  When JT walked into his bedroom, Cassandra was throwing clothes into a suitcase. “You going someplace?”

  “Nope,” she said without looking his way. She walked into the closet and pulled down a few of his suits and threw them on the bed, then opened the dresser drawers that contained his socks and under garments.

  “What are you doing?” he asked when he finally caught on that it was his clothes being packed.

  “Giving you your freedom, so you can see as many women as your heart desires.” She looked at him and added, “You just won’t have the added bonus of me waiting up, wondering where you are or who you’re with. Because I don’t care anymore.”

  “I’m not leaving my home.” He started taking his clothes out of the suitcase. “What’s gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?” That psycho must have called his house, he thought, then quickly said, “Look Sanni, you can’t believe everything Vivian says. The woman is crazy, and not just your average crazy – she needs to be locked up.”

  Cassandra stopped pulling his underwear out of the drawer and turned to face him. “Who is Vivian?”

  “Isn’t that why you’re throwing my clothes all over the place, because Vivian called and filled your head with lies.”