Preacher and The Prostitute

by Barrett, Brenda

  Maribel hissed, “Stop this Cathy, it was just eyes meeting across the room. Isn’t the table set beautifully, and with fresh flowers, too?”

  “I will allow the change of topic only because Sister Thelma and her daughter seem to be heading toward the two empty chairs around this table. I have got to find somebody … Sister Lily, you want to sit here with Carlisle?” Cathy yelled loud enough for Sister Lily and several other persons to hear.

  “Oh yes,” Sister Lily said ,waving and heading toward the table.

  Sister Thelma noticing the maneuver, headed to another table with Rose in tow. She was a petite and pretty girl and Maribel was interested enough to see if she would be treated to ‘the stare’ but he just kept on talking to his leaders at the head table, not even glancing at Rose once.

  She suddenly felt special, a feeling she had never encountered before with a man, and she liked it.

  Sister Bertram made the welcoming remarks and Brian got up to speak. The church hall was packed and he felt pleased that the church members had turned out to welcome him. The dinner actually made his job easier because tonight he could start putting faces to names and establish relationships.

  She was sitting at the fourth table from the exit door. Her red dress was outstanding in a room of blacks and blues and greens—subconsciously she had dressed to stand out. It was both a come-on and a danger signal, he summed up.

  While he headed for the small podium he wondered what he would say to this new flock of his. He whispered a prayer and asked God for guidance. It was not easy leading people with their various needs and personalities and their constant bids for attention from their spiritual adviser. He also had to navigate the fraught waters of single church sisters and create a balance where he was not seen as competition to his single church brothers.

  “Good evening, saints of God.” Brian cleared his throat. “Pastor Green sends greetings. I spoke to him just today and he reassured me that you are the best church he ever pastored and that I can expect many joys and spiritually uplifting times working in this corner of the vineyard.”

  They all smiled; some laughed.

  “With the times we are living in I never expect anything to go smoothly, because if they are, then something is wrong. The church is expected to bear the banner of Jesus Christ to the world, and that is no easy task. It is not an easy task because we, who call ourselves Christians, are hampered by one fundamental issue, forgiveness. We are unable to forgive our neighbors and so God is unable to forgive us. Another issue is our blatant lack of trust in God. Without faith it’s impossible to please God; without forgiveness, we ourselves are not forgiven. Where does that leave us?”

  “Playing church,” Sister Greenwood piped up at the front.

  “Playing church,” Brian smiled. “I don’t mean to preach; I just want to say that I appreciate how difficult a job I may have taken on, but you can do your part among yourselves and we will have an even better church and correspondingly, a better society.”

  They all clapped, even her. She was looking at him fully now and he returned her look by adding, “I hope I can get to know each one of you in short order and that we can all be friends.”

  She looked away and he smiled out at the church hall. “I thank Sister Bertram and the Women’s Ministries Department for such a thoughtful gesture.”

  He headed back to his seat, pleased that he had made an impact.

  He is tall, Maribel thought dazedly, and has the smooth, clipped, well-modulated voice of a cultured speaker. The sermons could become erotic experiences if she didn’t subject her thoughts to the Lord. She could just imagine him as a radio talk show host in the early hours of the morning, whispering any nonsense, and she would stay awake just to hear him with that smooth as honey voice.

  “… Sister Maribel and the award-winning choir.” Maribel jumped; she had so zoned out that she hadn’t realized that Sis Bertram was at the podium and she was to sing next. She was so out of it she didn’t remember what she was supposed to sing. She glanced across in panic at Cathy, who was standing up. She didn’t know how she ended up at the podium with a mike in her hand but she felt the press of bodies behind her that was the choir as they gathered to back her up.

  She wouldn’t look at him, even though the podium was directly in front of the head table; Sister Bertram had set it up that way so that speakers and performers could face the head table.

  Wise idea, Sister Bertram, she thought silently. “Lord forgive me for lusting after the pastor,” she whispered before she started singing. Her nervousness passed after the first line of the song and she saw Sister Claudia rocking at her table in approval, so she continued in confidence, with the choir chipping in melodiously after her.

  Brian closed his eyes to the very last note and joined the clapping when the choir and Sister Maribel left the podium. She had a gorgeous voice that alternated well between deep, high and melodious notes.

  He was afraid to look at her after that; he concentrated on the rest of the program, responding to his leaders as they made any comments to him. He was a man and there was only so much a man could take after finding himself so attracted to a woman. He felt all shivery inside. It was as if angels sang when he saw her and the answer to his request for the Lord to find for him the best woman for a wife was answered.

  He acknowledged within himself that love was not a first-sight situation; that was more like lust and the Bible spoke strongly against the lust of the flesh. He was not going to indulge any further in thoughts of Sister Maribel.

  This was his fourth speech to himself after staring at her picture for three days like a lovesick puppy and now, having seen her in the flesh, he finally understood the dangers of sexual attraction. Having heard her sing he was teetering on the edge of an obsession that he had to nip in the bud and view her as just one of God’s creatures that he should love with a brotherly love.

  His convictions were still in place after the program finished and he mingled with the brethren. One Sister Carlene kept walking behind him, a big blue hat perched precariously on her head. Her mouth was practically drooling as she trailed him with an awestruck look on her face.

  Sister Greenwood, whom he got to understand was the oldest woman in the church, kept introducing her granddaughters by telling him that they were of marriageable age.

  “Oh Pastor…” He would turn around and she would have a granddaughter in tow, “this is Melissa, Barbara, Cassandra, Pandora … of marriageable age and childbearing hips.”

  He met the embarrassed looks of the various granddaughters with a kind smile and tried to put them at ease.

  It took him half an hour to reach Maribel and her group.

  She was laughing when he approached—a deep belly laugh. She could barely contain herself, and he found himself smiling in turn as her group gripped each other in mirth.

  “Can I share in the joke?” he asked behind her.

  She spun around and looked at him, the mirth still in her eyes. “Greg Norwood,” she gestured to a young man standing beside a slim young woman who was clutching his hand, “his mother wanted to name him Habakkuk Malachi Norwood.”

  He grinned; she was obviously enjoying herself and it was impossible not to be affected by the sheer joy on her face.

  “I will definitely remember your name then, Brother Norwood.” He shook Greg’s hand. “And I am guessing this is Sister Cathy?”

  “Yes,” Cathy said smiling at him, “we have counseling sessions with you starting next Tuesday.”

  “Oh yes.” He looked at Maribel. “And you need no introduction. I was sitting and listening to your voice and I thought surely the Lord has bestowed upon you a wonderful gift.”

  “Thank you.” Maribel suddenly felt bashful; she had been getting compliments all evening but none made her feel as if a great honor had been offered as the one she just received.

  “I hear that you ladies in the Women's Ministry are doing great things in the community.”

  Maribel nodded. �
��I am a new member so I hear the same things too. I haven’t started participating yet.”

  “Well, you have made a good start.” He stared at her lips, and for a split second he forgot his name.

  “So Pastor Edwards, what made you come to Jamaica?” He focused on Greg, who had asked the question, and gave some sort of answer; he couldn’t remember what.

  The tension between them had escalated; he could feel it and he knew her friends were picking up on it as well. He decided to leave. He wanted to ask for her number so that he could call her to start the courting ritual but he figured that he would be moving too fast, too soon, and he didn’t want to scare her away.

  Luckily, Sister Thelma rescued him as she practically shoved her daughter in his face. He watched as Maribel excused herself and left the church hall with her friends. The night for him lost a lot of its luster when she walked out in her red dress.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “This is the third time I’ve caught you smiling fondly at your computer.” Vivian popped her head around Maribel’s door. “You haven’t told me how the dinner went yesterday.”

  “Terrific, God is good.” Maribel grinned at her friend.

  Vivian sidled into the office and said hastily, “I would ask for the details but I just saw Mark heading this way—give me a file.”

  Maribel handed her a file, still smiling.

  "When he passes he’ll think we’re consulting each other," Vivian said conspiratorially.

  “The Fowler presentation went well,” Maribel relaxed in her chair, “which was surprising, considering that I hardly slept last night. I was so tired when I left the dinner, and too keyed up to sleep.”

  “I hit the bed as soon as I reached home,” Vivian said laughing. “My mother had to remove my shoes. I woke up this morning at four feeling as fresh as ever, though. So how did the song go?”

  “Great, got compliments from nearly everyone, even the pastor.”

  “Ooh,” Vivian opened her eyes wide, “is that a blush? Your ears are red.”

  Maribel put her hand in her head. “I think I have a huge crush. I have never, in my entire life, had a crush. Crushes are for wide-eyed, innocent teenagers but here I am with a gigantic crush on a pastor, of all the ironies in the world.”

  Vivian giggled. “That’s not so bad, especially if it is reciprocated.”

  Maribel sighed.

  “Is it?” Vivian piped up.

  “Is it what?”

  “You are prevaricating. Just tell me.”

  “Prevaricating.” Maribel grabbed her dictionary.

  “It means to beat about the bush, evade, hedge—it’s on the notice board as the word of the day. Paul’s mother is coming from England and I want to brush up on some big and impressive words.”

  “Then don’t use big and impressive together,” Maribel snorted. “I can’t tell you the last time I looked at the notice board.”

  “Have it your way.” Vivian threw up her hand in the air. “I am going to be singing a new song: Maribel’s got a boyfriend nah-na-na-nah-na.”

  “Get out of here,” Maribel said, laughing.

  Mark stuck his head around the door when Vivian left. “Maribel, a minute in my office.”

  Maribel sighed and gathered some files together. The Fowler group had been satisfied with the work they got and were very impressed that it was done in such a short time. She had left the morning’s presentation as pleased as punch, only to have Monster Mark hawk all the credit for himself.

  She trudged after him, wishing that she had worn her most mousy work suit. Instead, even her below-the-knee brown suit, which was cut to her shape, suddenly felt too revealing.

  "Lord, please be with me as I am about to face this monster. I mean man … no offense meant God, but he must have the worst attitude of all your creatures."

  Maribel stepped into Mark’s office and glanced at him apprehensively. She looked around his spacious office, in which he had installed a mini golf play set. She was sure he didn’t play but was just toadying up to rich clients.

  “Maribel, I am very proud of how you handled the Fowler account.” Mark cleared his throat.

  Then why were you taking all the credit? Maribel thought silently.

  “I was so impressed I decided to allow you to work on Hodges Construction. One of the biggest clients that we have; they employ over three thousand persons all over Jamaica.”

  “Is this in conjunction with the other companies that you have been giving me since you became my supervisor?”

  Mark looked at her scornfully. “Why, don’t think you can manage?”

  “I am not going to work on any other major accounts along with Hodges’.”

  “Is that so?” Mark looked at her thoughtfully and swung in his chair. “Who is the boss here, Maribel?”

  Maribel swallowed; he reminded her of how her father looked at her just before a beating. She thought that with adulthood she had gotten over this feeling of deep, dark fear whenever a man looked at her with cold contemplation, but today it was back in spades. She felt herself gearing up for flight when she heard Mark clear his throat. She looked up at him while she clutched the file folders so tightly that she could feel the papers being crushed by her vise-like grip.

  “Okay, very well, at the next managing partners meeting I will mention that Hodges is too big an account to add to your work load.”

  “Thank you,” Maribel said, relaxing her tight grip on the file folders.

  “I deserve thanks, Maribel, in a more intimate way …” Mark changed his tone into a seductive purr.

  Maribel stood up swiftly. “Is that all, sir?” She stressed the sir to breaking point, the exaggerated term of respect scornfully landing in the air between them.

  “That’s all.” Mark looked at her measuredly, his eyes running swiftly over her body while she hurried out of his office.

  Brian hurried into his office while checking the messages on his Blackberry. He had promised to visit two older members who were unable to attend church because of mobility problems, but he had to answer several urgent emails from his church family in Canada and also his parents. He was running behind schedule and Sister Thelma had almost mowed him down in the parking lot while he was parking his car.

  “I am so happy I met up with you, Pastor.” She was simpering behind him, “I just dropped off my daughter Rose to a seminar at the Pegasus. She’s the managing director at her company, you know, just graduated magna cum laude from university with her masters.”

  “You don’t say.” Brian gestured for her to sit down in the chair opposite his desk. “I am going to check and send some email, Sister Thelma, so if you don’t mind me being a bit distracted, you can continue the visit. If not, I have open vestry days on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

  “I’ll just sit with you a spell,” Sister Thelma said, crossing her legs and getting comfortable. “I was just telling Rose how absolutely happy I was that she graduated with her MBA, and with such a high honor.”

  Brian grunted as he started typing the first email to his mother. His father, a retired judge, was having slight chest pains and his mother, the epitome of healthful living, was putting him on a rigid juice diet, which was causing the retired judge some angst.

  He hurriedly typed that he missed them both. Being the first and only son meant that he was his mother’s rock when his father was misbehaving, as she liked to fondly say—thankfully, Patsy had turned on the computer before he came in.

  “I say, Pastor, do you realize how loose and morally deficient these young girls are these days, in church of all places?”

  Brian grunted as he typed.

  “I can barely look around in church without seeing miles of legs and bosoms. My Rose dresses conservatively and of course, with the utmost modesty.”

  “That’s good for her,” Brian mumbled as he sent off one mail and started another.

  “I really hope your sermon this Sabbath is along the lines of modesty and purity, as befits the Christian f
aith.”

  “As a matter of fact it is.” Brian looked up from his typing. “Not because of the short skirt wearing, though,” he grinned at her, “but because its youth day.”

  “Please mention the sexual promiscuity and loose behavior, Pastor,” Sister Thelma said gleefully. “I love it when these young people are shown the right and proper way.”

  Brian sighed; he didn’t have time to set Sister Thelma straight about her judgmental attitude and to clarify that it was not only young people who were sexually promiscuous.

  “I tell you, Pastor, if you preach that this Sabbath, I am going to drag Gunther to church kicking and screaming.”

  “Who is Gunther?” Brian asked interestedly.

  “My son,” she sighed. “Pastor, I don’t know what to do with him. He is nineteen and claims he is taking a year off from school. He did sixth form and got all his A levels, so my husband Horace and I had big plans for him entering university. But alas, he holes himself up in his room, watching pornographic movies and listening to music that God’s angels must shudder in distaste to hear. Recently he started growing and plaiting his hair. I told him that if he turns a Rasta in my house I am going to fumigate his room and throw out his things.”

  Brian could feel a counseling session coming on but he just did not have enough time for one without missing his previous commitments.

  “Sister Thelma,” he said as tactfully as possible, “I would really love to explore this problem with you some more so that we can both pray about it and look at practical ways to overcome this hurdle. Please ask Sister Patsy to schedule some time for you to see me next Tuesday.”

  “It’s really the pornography I have a problem with,” Sister Thelma said dejectedly, ignoring his hints for her to leave. “He doesn’t even hide the abomination from his father or me anymore. He doesn’t even bat an eyelid if I come into his room while he is watching them.” She shuddered. “I am so thankful that Rose came out differently; my girl is the perfect child.”