Even Sinners Have Souls TOO

by Joy, E. n.

  The smell of Percy made Kanesha sick to the stomach and vomit forced its way into her mouth." Kanesha began to choke. She silently recited a prayer to God, begging for help. Dear Lord, if I've ever needed you before, it does not compare to how much I need you now. Please help me, please help us get us out of this situation alive. Lord, please forgive me of all my sins and receive this prayer, cried Kanesha inwardly.

  "What da-?" Percy was enraged by what he saw. Blood from Kanesha's neck trickled down her chest, causing her to panic.

  Kanesha's life ran through her mind along with the faces of her four children. She was determined to see them again, hold them, and teach them about the sacrifices Jesus made for them. I will carry you when you are too weak to walk on your own, spoke the Spirit to Kanesha's heart. Kanesha knew God would see her through as long as she didn't give up. It was at that moment, Kanesha felt empowered to fight for her life, for her family's future and Byron's well being.

  "I'm gonna die, Percy. Please, stop this. Just tell me what you want from us," begged Kanesha.

  "Shut up, witch! You ain't got nothing! Do you hear me? There is nothing I want from you besides your life."

  Kanesha had to think fast. She knew time was running out for her and Byron. Looking over at Byron, she saw all the blood gushing out of the knife wounds on his leg. Byron looked back at Kanesha, trying to say something to her with his eyes. Kanesha wasn't sure what it was he wanted to say, but she whispered to him, "Stay strong, God will see us through." Byron blinked his eyes rapidly and shook his head up and down. Percy was now pacing the floor, never taking his eyes off Kanesha.

  "You stupid, witch! I should kill you right now, but that would be too easy. You deserve to suffer for throwing me out on the streets like I was trash."

  "Stop for a minute. Think about my kids." Kanesha's voice was desperate and pleading, but her cries were exactly what Percy wanted.

  "I ain't tryna hear that mess. You think I care about dem bastard kids of yours?"

  "Please, Percy, I'm all they got," Kanesha continued to plead.

  "I said, shut up!"

  The knife cut Kanesha across her chest, and again, Percy punched her, forcing her to scream out in pain. Percy punched her again. Kanesha lay in excruciating pain, believing her jaw to be broken. She didn't move when Percy drew his fist back to punch her again. Kanesha closed her eyes in an attempt to brace herself for the blow.

  The binding on Byron's wrist had loosened up from the blood that had soaked into it. Percy had all of his focus on Kanesha and he made the mistake of leaving his back turned on Byron too long. "You, bastard!"

  Byron grabbed Percy's arm, preventing it from finding its mark a second time, and body slammed him. Losing his footing in the pool of blood, tears and vomit, Byron fell along side Percy. The two men struggled, both trying to dominate the other with strength and power. Byron was in a battle for their lives. The two stab wounds in his leg handicapped him from subduing his attacker the way he had wanted to.

  Percy was taken by surprise. He was totally unprepared for the physical battle before him. With Byron falling, and not as strong as he had been the day Kanesha threw him out of the apartment, Percy felt he could overtake Byron.

  Byron glanced at Kanesha, who lay still on the floor, and he thought she was dead. He tried desperately to overpower his attacker.

  Percy noticed Byron hesitate to get back on his feet and took advantage of the situation. He kicked Byron in his leg, making him scream out for help.

  "Shut up, boy. Ain't nobody coming to your aid," Percy spat.

  Percy tried to kick Byron again when he slipped in the blood and fell face down. Byron threw himself on Percy and fought for his life. Again, Percy overpowered his opponent. Percy straddled Byron and wrapped his hands around the weaker man's neck.

  Byron tried effortlessly to pry Percy's hands from his neck.

  "It's over, partner. Who da witch now? Who's da witch now?"

  Byron struggled to breathe.

  Kanesha's eyes opened. She lifted herself from the floor, struggling to sit up without falling over. Percy continued to choke Byron who was slowly losing consciousness, when all of a sudden-Boom! The front door was kicked in and forced off its hinges.

  "Freeze! "Police!"

  Percy released his grip on Byron's neck and grabbed the knife next to him.

  "Don't move," instructed a young police officer.

  "Get down," yelled another officer with S.W.A.T. across his bullet proof vest.

  "Drop the knife!"

  Percy ignored the orders being barked at him by the numerous police officers inside the living room and lunged toward the officer standing the closest to him. "I ain't goin' back to prison."

  "Stop!" ordered the officers in unison.

  "Drop your weapon!" warned the sergeant.

  Percy took three steps toward Kanesha as the police continued to yell orders at him.

  "I'm not dying alone," vowed Percy as he lunged toward Kanesha.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Three taps of the trigger from a policeman's gun stopped Percy in his tracks. The room was quiet, except for the rustled sounds of footsteps by the police.

  "Ma'am, the ambulance is on its way. We're gonna get you help," promised a twenty-something looking officer who covered her with a blanket.

  Kanesha looked into the police officer's eyes, unable to verbally respond due to the pain in her jaw. She took a deep breath and thanked God for ending the horrible ordeal. The officer covered Kanesha's body with a blan- ket before turning his attention to his partner who was tightening a belt around Byron's leg to stop the blood flow.

  Byron looked over at Kanesha and reached out to touch her. Kanesha found Byron's hand, giving it a squeeze to let him know she was okay.

  "It's over girl; we're going to be all right. It's over," said Byron after one of the police officers removed the tape from his mouth.

  'When we are in our most vulnerable state, finding that inner strength that we all possess, is what will get us through.'

  Kanesha tightened her grip on Byron's hand and closed her eyes to say another prayer, thanking God for allowing her and Byron to survive the horrible ordeal. When she opened her eyes, Kanesha looked over at Byron. With tears streaming down her face, she whispered, "I get it, Mommy. I finally get it. Thank you, Lord, for seeing us through the darkness and into the light. I am nothing without you heavenly Father, thank you."

  The paramedics rushed in and immediately began tending to Kanesha and Byron. Less than ten minutes after their arrival, the E.M.T.'s had stabilized both their patients enough to transport them to the nearest hospital.

  "She needs me, let me go! Kanesha, I'm here, baby! Please, let me go with her." Wilson pleaded with the police officer who had been restraining him from entering the duplex.

  After dropping off the drunken patron, Wilson called Kanesha to let her know he was on his way home. It was not like Kanesha to ignore a ringing phone, especially when her children were not home. Wilson tried repeatedly to reach Kanesha. With each unanswered call; his heart sank a little more. He was worried that Byron may have lied about not feeling resentful about their relationship and had, in some way, harmed Kanesha. Wilson drove back to the south side to make sure Kanesha was tucked safely in bed, and for whatever reason, just didn't hear her phone ringing. He would not be able to get a good night rest until he was sure Kanesha's welfare was as it should be.

  Upon arrival, Wilson wondered why Byron's car was still parked outside of Kanesha's duplex. He trusted Kanesha and thought maybe Byron's car had broken down or some other reasonable explanation. He stood outside of Kanesha's door, fighting with himself for showing up on her door step at four in the morning unannounced. Just when he was about to turn and leave, Wilson heard a strange noise come from the living room area of Kanesha's home. He tried to be quiet as he backed away from the door. He quickly pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911.

  In the midst of everything, Denise Ramsey was awaken by the we
ird noises coming from her neighbor and rushed to call for help. Fearing that her and her kids might have been in danger as well, Denise gathered them up and decided to wait for the police in her car. She swung her door open and was startled by Wilson. He grabbed Denise's daughter from her left arm and led them out to his car and away from danger.

  Wilson and Denise watched as the police approached and secured the building before kicking in Kanesha's front door. Wilson jumped from his car when an officer rushed out to retrieve blankets and first aid kits from his police cruiser. He stepped aside when fire trucks and ambulance workers rushed the door.

  After the officials granted him permission to join Kanesha in the ambulance, Wilson was frightened by the sight before him. Kanesha was covered in her own blood and both her eyes were black and swelling shut. Wilson reached out to touch Kanesha but quickly pulled his hand back in fear of hurting her.

  "Kanesha, it's Wilson. Everything is going to be all right. You're safe now. I promise you, I'll not leave your side," whispered Wilson through teary eyes.

  Unable to move her jaw or open her eyes, Kanesha held out her hand and found Wilson's knee. Wilson gently placed his hand on top of Kanesha's and smiled when he felt her squeeze. It was her signal to him that she was grateful to have him with her. The simple gesture spoke so much between the two sinners whose individual walks with God would soon become one.

  Wilson bowed his head and prayed out loud. "Our Father who art in heaven, please forgive us of our sins and please receive this prayer. Though we have both fallen short of your will, you did not give up on us and for that we are forever grateful. Thank you for delivering Kanesha and Byron from the evil that lived inside of Percy. Please continue to be with them both as their earthly bodies heal. Kanesha and I thank you for hearing and answering this prayer. For this and all things, we thank you dear Lord, Amen."

  Wilson laid a gentle kiss on the back of Kanesha's hand and allowed the tears to fall from the back of his eyes and his heart. "Thank you, Lord, we thank you."

  On this day, their belief in Jesus, patience with Christ and acceptance of the Holy Spirit proved that Even Sinners Have Souls Too. . .souls worth saving.

  Shana's Smile

  By

  Victor L. Martin

  Chapter One

  Twenty-six year old Celisha Rae could sense an upcoming argument with her deeply religious aunt as they left the Sunday church services.

  "Do you have to see that secular boss of yours today? One would assume he would give you the Lord's day off," her Aunt Faye questioned.

  "He's not just some secular thing, Aunt Faye. And I wish you would stop referring to him as my boss. His name is Vincent. You won't go to hell for saying his name, Auntie." Celisha chuckled as she drove through a busy intersection in her metallic, Nile green Buick Enclave SUV. A Vickie Winans song was flowing easily through the speakers.

  "Well those books he puts out are surely secular. Although I wouldn't dare read them with my own eyes, I've heard gals talking about them up in the beauty shop." She turned her nose up. "Just worldly."

  "Why do you say that?" Celisha kept her eyes on the road.

  Aunt Faye took off her cream colored extravagant hat, her thin lips pursed tightly. "I've seen the covers of his books," she said bitterly. "What man of God will write a book about a hood legend, and all those bad words; the cursing and the sex. It's secular, Celisha; just worldly and you know it. I'm surprised that you'd have anything to do with it. I mean, how can you be a child of God and work for the devil?"

  "That's uncalled for, Aunt Faye. How can you sit there and call someone the devil having never even met him before? And you've said it yourself that you haven't read not one page of his books, but yet you've judged him. That's not right. . .or should I say, 'that's not Christ like.'" Celisha used the term her aunt had so often used on her to describe some of her actions.

  "Oh really?" Aunt Faye replied. "So, are you suggesting that those ghetto, street lit, urban, hood books, or whatever they are referred to these days, can be a topic at Sunday school next week?" She raised her pencil drawn eyebrows.

  "No, Aunt Faye." Celisha sounded upset. "Of course not. And stop being so sarcastic about it."

  "I'm not being sarcastic, I'm being honest. There are plenty of Christian authors that you can work for and we both know it. As for why you continue to work for that-"

  "Let's drop the issue," Celisha said and then added, "Please."

  Aunt Faye reluctantly bit her tongue on this one by turning to stare out at the passing scenery. She didn't mean her niece any harm. She was only trying to protect her. She felt that Celisha's boss was a man of his words. . .his written words. Secular words that he pulled from his heart to write in his books. After all, authors always said that they write what they know or that they are what they write. In her opinion, that meant that her niece's boss was the devil. It was simple to Aunt Faye. If it was not dealing with God, then it wasn't good for the soul. The only bestseller in her opinion was the Bible. End of discussion.

  "I still love your hardheaded behind," Aunt Faye muttered, giving Celisha a pat on the knee.

  Celisha smiled. "I know you do, Auntie."

  They rode listening to the music the rest of the short trip. After dropping her aunt off, Celisha elected to head for Coral Gables instead of going home. It was time for her to, as her aunt put it, go work for the devil.

  Chapter Two

  Author Vincent L. Manor was in his driveway washing his customized four door convertible Chrysler 300c SRT-8. His two German Shepherds, Rocky D and Rex, were laid out in the shade under a palm tree. The sky was cloudless, with the beaming sun poking its chest out. Both dogs came to their feet when Celisha pulled up to the nickel plated, wroughtiron gate.

  Vincent used a remote attached to his key chain to open the gate. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of long shorts and Nike slip-ons. His bald head and torso was covered with a heavy sheen of sweat and he looked much younger than a man reaching his mid-thirties. His brown eyes were hidden behind his tinted designer prescription frames. He continued to wash his vehicle as Celisha was welcomed by two wagging tails.

  "Dina Blain called me last night," he said, with the water hose aimed at the front, left 22-inch chrome rim, after he closed the gate again.

  "Good news or bad news?" Celisha stood behind him squinting and shielding her eyes from the glare of his ride. She then took a few steps back when he started spraying the sparkling rim.

  "Good. Said I will have a chance to write a fulllength novel for her imprint if I'm open to it. I told her, fo' sho. Gotta return the love you know. Dina was one of the few authors that came to see me when I was in prison." He glanced over his sweaty shoulder for a second at Celisha in her Sunday best. "How was church?" he asked, changing the subject.

  "Uplifting," was Celisha's reply. "I took my aunt with me. She's not one of your fans, you should know." Celisha chuckled.

  He turned to look at her while spraying off the hood. "Has she even read any of my books?"

  "No, but according to her, all the women at the shop where she gets her hair done have. Let's just say that my aunt is not a part of your target audience." She smiled briefly at Vincent.

  He shrugged his broad shoulders, turning back to his work at hand. "I gave you the day off." He moved around, spraying the roof. "I hope you don't think I can't handle this speaking engagement alone today?"

  "Yes. . .I know...of all people, I fully know what you're capable of doing alone." She was fiddling with the diamond engagement ring on her finger.

  He looked over the cloth roof of his car, smiling. "So I assume you want to put in some overtime then?"

  She nodded. "Yeah. I just stopped by to make sure that it was cool. I need to go change though," she said. "I'll be back in an hour."

  Vincent nodded, and opened the gate as she backed out moments later. "Holler," was all he said as he finished up, glad that Celisha had decided, in spite of him giving her the day off, to have his back.


  Let Vincent tell it, he owed his success around his career to his dependable personal assistant. Celisha was always on top of her job. If he was doing any type of public appearances as an author, she wanted to be by his side. In the author community, the two were quite a pair and had endured the false allegations that they were secretly sexually involved.

  Celisha was a stunning, black, highly attractive woman with the warming looks close to Elise Neal. She was a devoted Christian Monday through Sunday. She didn't have any kids and could speak French and Spanish. She was also engaged to be married to a man named Aaron. She dispelled the allegations of an affair with her superior with grace and prayers. As for Vincent, he was viewed as handsome, and the title of being a bestselling author only added to his influencing attractiveness.

  Minutes later, after Celisha was gone, Vincent's young, bubbly soul mate appeared in one of the open Dutch doors. She was wearing one of his linen button down shirts fully open, revealing her olive tanned body.

  "Brunch is ready," she said. The small yellow diamond stud in her belly button twinkled briefly when it caught the sun. It was no way near as bright as the twinkle in her hazel eyes and pouty smile she gave him before going back inside.

  Vincent had left the streets, living the life of just another hustler, over a decade ago. But now, after putting the life he had once lived on paper, he was a famous author and his adjustment had not been easy. His readers wanted to know so much about him and he felt it was right to open up to them. Without his readers and their support, there would be no bestselling author, Vincent Manor. Yes, he was humble, but there was one aspect of his life that he managed to keep private-his love life.

  He had met the outgoing twenty-two year old model only ten months ago at a huge book conference that was held in California known as BEA, short for Book Expo of America, but lovingly nicknamed by authors in the industry as the Book Zoo. Micki was biracial; black and Argentina. She was the book cover model on a popular urban trilogy, plus she had over ten music videos to her credit. She was also a die-hard fan of Vincent's books. Micki had approached Vincent at the BEA seeking his autograph, which led to a brief conversation, leaving both interested in the other.