“I ain’t doing nothin’, Miss Pearl. G-Dog and I…we just hanging.”
Wade walked over to where they were sitting.
“Good evening.”
“Hello, Pastor.” Pearl gave him a tiny smile. “I know we ran a little late tonight, but we’re on our way out.”
“I’d like to speak to you, if you have a moment.”
She was keenly aware of his scrutiny. “Sure.” To Tyson, she said, “Hon, this won’t take long.”
He released a long sigh and muttered something under his breath, then walked to the back and sat down in the last row.
Normally, Pearl would’ve called Tyson on it, but she decided to let it go this one time. Right now she was trying to figure out why Wade wanted to talk to her.
She and Wade walked back up to the front of the church and sat down on the first pew.
“I won’t keep you long.”
“It’s not a problem. What can I do for you?”
“I was listening to some of the songs that you’re planning to have the youth choir sing on fourth Sunday. While they’re nice, I’d really like you to add some of the more traditional songs to your list.”
Keeping her expression under stern restraint, Pearl eyed him. “Okay, so now you have a problem with the songs I choose for the choir to sing?” Shaking her head in dismay, she added, “I don’t believe you, Pastor.”
Why did Pearl always have to be so defensive? It was a simple request.
Wade chose his words carefully. “I’m not saying anything is wrong with them, per se. I just think that some people have forgotten that the primary focus should be bringing people to Christ, while being an example of what they are singing about.”
“I see.” Just when she thought he was beginning to relax…
“I take it that you don’t agree.”
“It’s not that I don’t agree, Pastor. I happen to believe that every song the youth choir sings accomplishes just that. I wrote quite a few of those songs.”
Pearl glanced over her shoulder to where Tyson was sitting. “Before I took over the choir we barely had any young people in the church, much less the choir. We need music that will reach these kids.”
Wade had overheard her conversation with Tyson. It was clear to him just how much she cared about the teen, as well as all the youth at Lakeview Baptist Church. The girls looked up to her and the boys thought she was fine.
He smiled. They were right. There was no denying that.
Tyson stood up abruptly. “Miss Pearl, I need to get home. You ain’t gotta drive me to the house. My friend’s waiting on me outside.”
Pearl turned around. “Then you can tell him to leave because I’m taking you home. I want to talk to you,” she insisted.
“I told you, Miss Pearl. I’m not doing nothing, so you don’t have to worry ’bout me.”
“Well, I do,” she countered. “Especially since I saw those drawings in your backpack. I wasn’t prying. I found the backpack in the choir stand and only wanted to see who it belonged to.”
“I’m going straight home, Miss Pearl.”
“I’m driving you and that’s final.”
“Actually, I’d like to take Tyson home,” Wade interjected, surprising both Pearl and Tyson.
The teen sighed loudly before saying, “Mama called you. Didn’t she?”
Nodding, Wade answered, “She’s very concerned about you.”
Pearl sent him a smile of gratitude. “Thanks so much for this,” she whispered as they walked toward the exit doors. “I know he’s been running around with some gang members.” After a short pause, she added, “I just hate that. All being part of a gang can do is get you killed.”
Wade stiffened at her words.
He escorted Tyson and Pearl out of the church.
“Hey, man, what took you so long?” another teenage boy said when Tyson stepped out.
Tyson glanced over at Pearl.
“Hello,” Wade said to the boy. “I’m Pastor Kendrick. What’s your name, young man?”
The boy looked from Wade to Tyson, then back to Wade. “G-Dog,” he muttered warily. His eyes were sharp and assessing.
“It’s nice to meet you, G-Dog,” Wade stated sincerely, and offered his hand, which the teen shook.
“I know you were waiting on Tyson to come out, but I’m going to drive him home because his mother wants me to talk to him. I’d be more than happy to give you a ride, as well.”
G-Dog shook his head. ‘I’m all right.” He turned to walk away, then paused. “Hey, Pastor, thanks.”
Wade nodded. “You’re welcome.”
He unlocked his car door and gestured for Tyson to get inside. Wade then escorted Pearl to her SUV.
“Wow,” Pearl murmured. “You really handled that G-Dog well. I thought he’d give you a lot more attitude. I didn’t know if he was going to pull out a gun or something.”
“Gang members want respect. They want that more than anything else.”
Pearl eyed him. “You seem to know a lot about this. Maybe you should meet with the teens at church to discuss gangs.”
Wade didn’t respond.
Pearl pulled a CD out of her tote. Offering it out to Wade, she said, “Here…I want you to listen to this. I wrote all of the songs.”
“I look forward to listening to it.”
“After you hear it, I think you’ll understand what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
Wade waited until Pearl climbed into her car. “Drive safe,” he told her.
Her compelling eyes held him captive, prolonging the moment. “You do the same.”
Pearl waved before pulling off. She left the parking lot and disappeared into the night.
“What did my mom want you to talk to me about?” Tyson asked when Wade got into his car.
“She’s worried about certain choices you’ve been making. She says your grades are dropping since you started hanging with G-Dog and his boys.”
“They don’t have anything to do with my grades.”
Wade pulled out into traffic and glanced over at Tyson. “Then why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you?”
His gray eyes became flat and unreadable as stone. “Nothing’s going on.”
“Tyson, you can tell me anything. I won’t judge you.”
“I’m just having some problems with my school work, that’s all. G-Dog is my friend. I’m not in a gang like everybody thinks.”
“Then why are you running around with gang members?”
“They’re my friends. In a way, I think it’s cool because nobody will mess with them, but…” Tyson’s voice died.
“But what?” Wade prompted.
“Some of the stuff I hear about scares me. G-Dog’s big brother…he’s the leader.”
“G-Dog’s in the gang because of his brother?” Wade asked.
Tyson nodded. “Yeah. He don’t want King to think he a punk.”
Back in Wade’s mind, he wondered if that’s why Jeff wanted to be part of the Chicago Kings. Clearing his throat, he said, “That’s not a good reason to join. You do realize that, don’t you?”
“G-Dog makes it sound cool sometimes.”
“That’s because he’s trying to recruit you, Tyson.”
Wade hoped that his words were seeping into Tyson’s head. “This is not the route you want to take,” he told the teen. “Gang violence is on the rise.”
“That’s not what the Detroit Disciples are about, Pastor.”
“What makes them different from any of the other gangs out there?”
Tyson sighed in frustration. “You don’t understand, Pastor.”
Wade understood. He understood more than Tyson knew. “It’s not cool, Tyson. Trust me. What’s so cool about tagging and stealing? That’s the way boys your age prove you’re worthy of belonging.”
Tyson sighed. “It ain’t like that, Pastor. I don’t mean no disrespect but how do you know what happens in gangs? You ain’t never been in one. The Disciples—they ju
st trying to help the community.”
Wade held his tongue. He couldn’t tell Tyson about Jeff, about his former life. It just wasn’t something he could talk about right now.
“My house is the first one on the left,” Tyson instructed.
Wade pulled in front of a modest brick home and parked the car.
Tyson got out and walked as slow as he could to the front door. Wade strode beside him.
The boy’s mother was waiting for him in the living room. She greeted Wade, and then lit into her son. “Pearl called me and told me that you quit the choir. You’re not quitting so just take that thought out of your head right this minute.”
Tyson’s eyes were glued to the shag carpet. He dropped down on the sofa.
“I told you I didn’t want you hanging around with that G-Dog. He ain’t nothing but trouble,” she fumed.
He continued to defend G-Dog. “He ain’t trying to force me to do anything I don’t want to do.”
“He’s a gangbanger,” she countered. “I’m telling you the truth. That boy means you no good.”
“He can’t make me do nothing I don’t want to do.”
“Well, you’d better not be wanting to join a gang. That’s all I got to say on the matter and that’s final.”
Wade decided now was a good time to intervene. “Tyson and I had a talk on the way over, Sister Yolanda. He assured me that he isn’t in the gang.”
“She don’t believe me,” Tyson complained. “Just ’cause me and G-Dog friends don’t mean I want to be part of the Disciples. Even though they treat me better than she does.”
“Excuse me? Do they feed you?” Yolanda demanded. “Do they buy the clothes you’re wearing? What do they do for you, Tyson Terrell Washington?”
“They don’t ask me where I’m going all the time. They don’t tell me what I can or can’t do. They treat me like a man.”
“They are not your mother,” she countered. “But I am. I’m not trying to hurt you or get you killed. Son, I love you more than my own life. It is not my job to be anything other than your parent. I take my role seriously and as long as I have breath in my body you ain’t joining the Disciples or anybody else. Do you understand me, Tyson?”
Wade remembered all too well having those same conversations with his mother. How he wished he could go back in time and change the choices he made, but that’s not what life was about. It was learning from past mistakes. He didn’t want Tyson to have to go through life living with guilt.
Wade stayed another fifteen minutes to try and get Tyson to listen and consider everything his mother was telling him. He said a prayer and bid Yolanda and Tyson a good night.
His heart was troubled because Wade wasn’t sure he’d been able to reach the teen at all. But he also felt guilty. He wasn’t man enough to share his own experiences. Wade didn’t want to see another person look at him with disappointment.
He especially never wanted Pearl to see him as a gangbanger who ended up getting his brother killed.
His faith in God was strong, and while Wade knew deep down that God had forgiven him, he still had no peace. He’d let his family down when they needed him the most. The guilt of his actions had seeped into his pores for all eternity.
Chapter 7
Wade slipped Pearl’s CD in the compact disc player as soon as he walked into his house. He loved listening to her sing and was impressed by Pearl’s music and the fact that her words really ministered to his soul.
Her music reminded him of soft jazz but the words were unmistakable. Pearl’s lyrics seeped into his spirit. Leaning back against the sofa, Wade closed his eyes and imagined himself before the Lord, praising him.
The next day, he was surprised to run into Pearl at the bookstore.
“Wade…hello.”
He eyed the stack of music in her hands. “Looking for some new songs for the youth choir?”
“Naaah. This is for the fashion show.” Pearl was the coordinator for the annual youth luncheon. This year the event was going to be held on the Saturday after Thanksgiving.
“I have to tell you I enjoyed listening to your CD. The lyrics really ministered to me. I have to admit that you were right about your music. I still have a problem with some of the stuff that’s masquerading as gospel music.”
“I’m thankful you listened with an open mind,” responded Pearl. “I get what you were saying about some of the music out there, but, Pastor, there are some wonderful contemporary artists who are using their gifts to minister to the non-Christian or the unchurched.”
“The idea that ministry must get out by any means necessary is pervasive to me. For whatever reason, some people have this preconceived notion that we have to change the music in order to reach a larger number of people—”
Pearl quickly interjected, “Who otherwise wouldn’t step foot into a church.”
Shifting in her seat, she added, “Contemporary music adds that edge that more traditional music doesn’t. People can relate to it and the words minister to them.”
“So what you’re telling me is that only the new and improved music will save souls?” Wade asked. “That the more traditional music won’t work anymore?”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just believe you have to meet people where they are. My own spiritual walk was not reflected in any of the traditional songs. They didn’t do anything for me, honestly. You may not know this but we didn’t have a youth choir until I took over,” Pearl stated. “And we don’t just sing contemporary songs. I try to balance it out with some traditional ones.”
“I know you do, Pearl. I’m just suggesting to maybe add more traditional music. I don’t mind you singing one contemporary song during service. I don’t want people coming just to be entertained. We are here to minister.”
Folding her arms across her chest, Pearl questioned, “Are you trying to tell me what to sing? Would you like to listen to these?” she asked, holding out the CDs. “See if they meet with your approval?”
“I don’t think I need to do that.”
“I was being sarcastic, Wade.”
“So was I,” he responded. “Pearl, I was only making a suggestion.”
“Thank you for your suggestion. I’ll give it some thought.”
Pearl walked up to the counter to pay for her purchases, Wade on her heels.
“I’ll take care of this,” he told her. “They’re for a church function.”
“You don’t have to d—”
He cut her off, saying, “I insist.”
“Thank you,” Pearl said after a moment.
“You’re welcome.” Handing her the bag containing the music CDs, Wade eyed her as they made their way out of the store. “You’re very different from how I assumed you were.”
Giving him a sidelong glance, she asked, “Do I even want to know what your impression was of me?”
He laughed. “No. Probably not.”
“Pastor, there’s something I need from you,” Pearl stated.
“What is it?”
“Your trust. If you want me to continue as your youth-choir director, I really need you to trust me and my choices in songs. I want these kids to sing their hearts out. I want them to sing with joy before the Lord. But mostly I want them to be able to relate to what they’re singing.”
Wade nodded in understanding. “I will allow you to do your job.”
“Thank you.” After a brief pause, Pearl inquired, “Do you have plans for dinner, Pastor?”
“Actually, I don’t.”
“We have a new item on the menu at Milton’s—a sautéed salmon. I’m sure you’d like it. Think about it,” she murmured. “I’m working the dinner shift.”
With that, she walked away.
Wade watched her go, stunned. After a moment he smiled. Just like he’d said, Sister Pearl was full of surprises.
Wade followed the hostess to the back of the restaurant where Pearl was working. He kept telling himself that it was his growling stomach that brought him ba
ck to Milton’s Ristorante, but deep down, he knew better.
He wanted to see Pearl.
Pearl broke into a big grin when she saw him. “Glad you decided to join us tonight.”
“Glad you invited me,” he responded.
“You won’t be disappointed.” Pearl pulled out her pad of paper.
“So are you going to try the salmon scaloppini?”
“It’s between the shrimp al arrabiata and the salmon.” Wade laid down his menu. “I think I’ll let you decide for me.”
“Do you like spicy foods?”
“Some…not a lot.”
“Then you should definitely stick with the salmon.”
“I trust you.”
Their gaze met and held for a moment. He wondered if she caught the deeper meaning to his words.
Pearl seemed to be the one to recover first. “I’ll go put your order in.”
Wade watched her until he could no longer see her.
What am I doing here?
He was attracted to Pearl. Wade still had trouble digesting this particular fact. She was the total opposite of the type of women he’d dated in the past.
Pearl checked on him twice before she returned with his food. He noted she was just as attentive to all of her customers. Her smile was infectious and had a soothing effect on everyone. Except him, he realized. When she smiled at him, his heart beat faster.
“So what did you think of the salmon?” she asked, suddenly appearing at his table.
“Pearl, you were right. It was delicious.”
She broke into a wide grin. “I told you.”
“Thanks. You saved me from a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich for dinner tonight.”
“Oh, my.”
“Cooking is not one of my talents, unfortunately.”
“I’m surprised,” she murmured. “You look like you can do everything well.” Pearl cleared her throat softly before adding, “I need to check on my other tables.”
Wade chuckled.
When she returned to his table with his bill, he slipped cash into the padfolio, leaving her a very generous tip. Then he sought out the bathroom.
When Wade walked out of the men’s room, Pearl was clocking out. “You’re off work?” he inquired.
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