by Dijorn Moss
“I really want you to go to the Men’s Retreat. We always have a great time fellowshipping with one another,” Jamal said.
Quincy nodded in agreement as he took another bite of his salmon. “I wish I could do it, but I just can’t,” Quincy said after he wiped his lips with a napkin.
His phone sounded and Quincy turned away to talk. Jamal did not know if it was Karen or someone else. Moments later, Quincy turned around and placed his napkin over his food to signify that he was finished eating.
“That’s Karen. Listen, I have to go. Something has come up.” Quincy seemed annoyed.
Jamal was very interested to know what was going on with his prayer partner.
Quincy paid for the dinner with his Black Card. Jamal only heard about the card from rap songs. He never saw anyone who could afford to own this aluminum card until now.
“Listen, I’ll give you a call this weekend,” Quincy said.
“If you change your mind about going to the Retreat, call me in the morning.” Jamal gave Quincy a handshake.
Quincy left the table and Jamal continued to eat.
“Anything else I can get you?” Leslie, the bright Puerto Rican waitress, said to Jamal with a smile.
“No, I’m good,” Jamal replied.
“Well, let me know if you need anything.” Leslie left her phone number on the table. Even though she knew that Quincy had paid for the dinner, it was nice to see Jamal’s good looks could get a girl’s number at the Four Seasons.
Will was definitely losing his mind. The night was growing stranger by the minute. He was about to embark on a journey to a bizarre religious event with a stranger.
Will drove into his apartment complex. The Palms Apartments consisted of a two-story building designed in a U-shape. Will pulled into his neighbor’s parking stall.
“Why are we here?” Chauncey asked.
“I have to make a stop for a minute. Let’s go,” Will said.
“I’m fine right here.”
“I’m telling you right now, if you don’t get out of this car, you’re going to have problems,” Will stressed.
Will got out of the car and Chauncey walked in front of him as they walked up the stairs toward Will’s apartment. Will opened the door and the smell of sour milk arrested Will’s nose. Will’s little sister, Elisha, sat in her diaper on their chocolate brown carpet. His mother sat comatose on the couch.
“Hey, little momma.” Will picked his little sister up and noticed the heaviness in her diaper. “Ma, how come you did not change her?” Will barked toward his mother. She was staring off into the TV with no regard to anyone else in the room.
Therein lay Will’s sole frustration. He had to be the adult for everyone. If he did not go out and buy groceries, then the family did not eat. If he did not get up and walk Joshua to the bus stop every morning to make sure his brother got on the school bus safely, then his brother did not go to school. And, apparently, if he did not change Elisha’s diapers, then Elisha would sit in the living room, soiled by her own feces.
“Who this?” Joshua asked, pointing to the man in their living room.
“He’s a business associate.” Will changed Elisha’s diaper and maintained a visual of Chauncey.
“Hi, my name is Deacon Chauncey McClendon.” Chauncey extended his hand, but Joshua was reluctant to shake it.
“He’s cool.” Will finished changing Elisha’s diaper and, to her delight, began to smother her with kisses.
“Joshua’s your name? You know, that’s a name from the Bible. Joshua was chosen to be a leader after Moses had died, and to lead the children of Israel to the promised land,” Chauncey said.
“Man, cut all that stuff out,” Will said as he placed Elisha on the carpet.
Time was definitely of the essence. Will started to get calls from D-Loc, and he was afraid that soon he would come looking for him.
“Rent due,” his mother muttered.
“I’m working on that. Don’t worry; we ain’t going to get put out.”
In truth, Will had the money for the rent, but he got tired of his mother spending it on drugs. Will usually dropped rent off in a money order on the first.
“You ain’t nothing like your father. Your father knew how to get money. You’re just a sorry excuse for a man,” his mother said without even looking in Will’s direction.
Just like her, he thought. He was raised to expect something for nothing. She had nothing but contempt for those who longed to make something of themselves.
“Whatever, that’s why I keep the lights on, right? That’s why I keep a roof over our heads and food on the table?” Will reminded his mother. “Leave it up to you, you’ll spend all our money getting high. But I ain’t a man?”
“No, you’re not! I wish your father was here instead of you. You too dumb to be the head of this family and you’re too weak to be a man.”
“May I say something?” Chauncey asked.
“Dude, if you knew what’s best for you, you would pull your nose out of this business.” Will held up his finger to Chauncey.
Will had endured his mother’s abuse since childhood. When she grew tired of the physical abuse, his mother would then turn to the verbal abuse. In time, Will had come to see the physical abuse as helpful, a necessary attribute to survive in the merciless streets.
The verbal abuse, however, had a much more devastating effect. Will resolved that if he couldn’t find peace in his own home, then peace was an elusive thing that he would never find. Oh well, he had to play the hand he was dealt, but Will refused to be degraded in front of a stranger.
“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you weren’t too busy getting high. You call yourself a mother, then be a mother to your kids. You got your kids starving and needing to be changed. You’re a poor excuse for a mother,” Will spat.
A tear emerge from the side of his mother’s face. Some say heroin is the most addictive drug on the market; well, Will could attest to that. He never saw his mother take pleasure in anything other than her next fix. Even now, though she stared at the TV, he knew she was still thinking about her next fix.
Will also blamed himself. He did not help the situation by always catering to her needs. He resented her, and his father for making his mom so passive. She never left the house; she barely even left the couch. Her distaste for life caused her to be resigned to the couch and send her children out into the ruthless world to fend for themselves.
Will went into the bedroom without the need to turn on the light. What he needed from his room he could find in the pitch darkness. Underneath his bed was a plastic case. Will removed his keys from his pocket and unlocked the padlock around the handle of the case. He felt through the foam and removed his .357 Smith & Wesson. He loaded the gun with one clip and put the second clip in his front pocket. He wasn’t the type who would leave his family unguarded. Will tucked the gun in the back of his pants as he left his bedroom. When he returned to the living room, the Jesus freak was nowhere in sight.
“Where’s that guy I was with?” Will asked Joshua.
Joshua shrugged, and Will bolted out of the front door. Will was used to stealing cars, not people. As soon as he had taken his eyes off of his hostage, his hostage left. Chauncey had not gotten far down the stairs before Will was right behind him.
“Hold up!” Will stated.
Chauncey looked back and tried to move faster, but he tripped and stumbled down the last few steps. He rolled onto the ground, and when he saw Will, Chauncey put his hands up in a surrender position.
“I don’t know how far you expected to get in some wingtips.” Will pointed at Chauncey’s shoes.
“I just want to go to church,” Chauncey said, out of breath.
Will picked Chauncey up by his collar and stood him straight up. “You say you’re a man of God, right?”
Chauncey responded with a nod.
“Well, I can’t begin to explain how strange this night has been. It got me thinking about a lot of things. Then I me
et you and I’m, like, trippin’. I mean, you might be the only one who could..”
“Who could what?”
“Save my life.”
“Only Jesus can do that,” Chauncey replied.
“Well, we’ll see about that, but if you try to run again”—Will flashed his gun—“then I’ll have no choice but to use this.”
“Will!” a familiar voice cried out.
Will turned around and saw his brother, Joshua, on top of the steps. “Come here, Josh.”
Joshua ran down the stairs.
“Look, I got to go out of town for a couple of days and I need you to look after the family for me.”
Will saw the weight of the world fill his twelve-year-old brother’s eyes; Long Beach was not an easy place to live and there were always jackals waiting in the wings to pick off the weak.
“Don’t leave me here, let me come with you.” Tears filled Joshua’s eyes.
“Stop crying. I need you to be strong for me. Be a man, all right?” Will dipped into his pockets and pulled out a roll of bills, which he handed to his brother.
“This is three hundred. That should tie you guys over until I get back. Don’t leave this money lying around. You know how our mother is.”
Will reached into the front part of his pants and pulled out the gun that D-Loc had given him and handed it to his brother, who placed the money in his front pocket and the gun in his back pocket.
“You know what to do if any trouble occurs. Just point and shoot.” Joshua gave Will a nod as Will pointed to his brother to go into the house. “Be good. I got to go.”
After Joshua ran up the stairs and closed both doors, Will took Chauncey by the arm and walked him to the car. Chauncey got into the passenger seat and Will made his way back to the driver’s seat.
“Where are we headed?” Will asked.
“Monterey Bay.”
Will had never even heard of Monterey Bay. The farthest he had been outside of Long Beach was Palmdale to visit family. He did not have a clue as to what was in store for him. All Will knew was that he had nothing to lose.
Chapter Eight
Quincy pulled up to his former two-story brick house. He paused for a minute, noticing that the lawn and the rosebushes were freshly trimmed. He remembered when he and Karen first bought the house and how they celebrated on the lawn, where Quincy picked her up and kissed her.
Quincy oversaw all of the details of the house. As an architect, he knew what enhanced the beauty of a home and what detracted. Quincy would have built their first home himself, like his original plan, but work on downtown lofts were too time consuming, so he settled for the home that he would have built if he’d had the time.
His father always told him that a man is not a man until he can walk on floors that he owns. One of Quincy’s happiest moments was when he paid off the mortgage of their house and only had to worry about property taxes.
This was the first time Quincy had been to the house since he discovered that Karen was having an affair. He wondered if it was too soon to return home. God only knew what damage he might cause with his full set of golf clubs. He had to remind himself that he was Quincy Page, and Quincy Page did not lose control. No one was built like him, and for that, he could go into this house and face his unfaithful wife.
Quincy opened the car door against a heavy wind and let the car door close. He then followed the brick walkway to the white door with the gold lantern positioned right above the doorbell. Quincy pulled out his keys and was surprised that she had not changed the locks. Karen stood in the entrance dressed in a brown turtleneck and black slacks. That was sad for eleven-thirty at night.
Karen was too attractive a woman to dress so conservatively; this was another glaring example of why Quincy was not necessarily fulfilled. That she dressed so seductive and sexy around A-MOG burned him to the core.
Quincy noticed that she had gained some weight since the last time he’d seen her. Maybe he was exaggerating, but maybe she was going through a depression. Unfortunately, Quincy could not feel too sorry for her. Karen had made her choice, and now she had to live with it.
“You have any golf clubs with you?” Karen asked.
“I wouldn’t crack jokes if I were you. You’re lucky I’m even here.”
“Where have you been?” Karen folded her arms.
The audacity of this woman; she cheats on me with another man and has the nerve to ask about my whereabouts. He was raised to be a gentlemen and to never, under any circumstances, put his hands on a lady, but Karen was pushing it.
“Don’t worry about where I’ve been. You weren’t concerned about me when you were lying up with ol’ boy.”
“Look, you never gave me a chance to explain. That’s why I called you to come over. I wanted to talk to you about our marriage.”
“We don’t have a marriage. You cheated on me, remember? Our marriage exists only on paper, and come next week, that’s about to change.”
“So you’re going to file for divorce?” Karen asked.
“What do you think? There is nothing you can say or do that will keep me from divorcing you.”
“I’ve been praying that God will move your heart to try to work this out.”
Quincy saw frustration emerge on Karen’s face. He played coy because there was another issue to be resolved. Quincy had reclaimed his position of power in this marriage.
“I ain’t trying to be funny or nothing, but how are you going to ask God to move my heart when you’re the one who cheated on me, and you still haven’t told me who it was you cheated on me with?”
“It’s hard to talk to you when you have a golf club in your hands.” Karen lowered her head.
“I ruined a perfectly good nine iron. But that’s beside the point. The point is you can’t even tell me who it is. Is it somebody I know?” Quincy waited a moment, but there was no response. “Here you go again with that silence. You care more about keeping your secrets than talking to your husband.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re still going to divorce me anyway.”
“Why are you protecting this man, or is it a woman?”
“No! No! I ain’t into women.” Karen’s face turned furious.
“I was about to say…” Quincy’s words trailed off as his thoughts started to connect the dots. Quincy had been so blinded by inconsolable rage that he could not see that the person his wife was protecting was right in front of him.
“He’s a minister at the church, isn’t he? I know that the only men you seem to admire more than me are those ministers at the church.”
Karen’s eyes enlarged, and that admitted her guilt.
“He is. You’re willing to let your marriage go up in smoke just to protect your pastor.”
“It’s not the pastor.” Karen diverted her eyes.
“What does A-MOG mean? Can you at least tell me that?”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Maybe that’s because you’re used to screaming it out in some Super 8 Motel.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m some kind of whore. I made a mistake, and it’s not like you’re a perfect husband.”
“So I got to be perfect in order for you to be faithful?”
“I’m not saying that, it’s just that I wasn’t getting what I needed from you.” Karen pulled her hair back over her shoulders.
“Now if that would’ve been my reason, you would have called me a dog and thrown all of my clothes on the lawn.”
This marked the longest conversation they’d had without resorting to throwing things. She was not getting what she needed? What kind of nonsense is that? Quincy had tried in every way to please her. He gave her everything, and to her that was not enough. Quincy had no reason to believe her. Karen used to run around with her girlfriends from church and they would talk about Pastor Dawkins as if he were their pimp. One girl even called Pastor “Daddy D.”
Despite how inappropriate the comments and banter were, Quincy allowed them to sli
de because he did not suffer from insecurity, and he was confident in his relationship with Karen. Now he saw that he had been foolish. Karen was susceptible to strong men. He should have known, because that was how he won her over.
Karen placed her hand around her throat. That usually meant she felt a knot in her throat from being nervous. As a husband, Quincy would usually take advantage of this moment to reassure her that everything was going to be okay.
But as soon as he ceased to be her husband, something initiated by her infidelity, Quincy reveled in the fact that he could make Karen squirm.
“I wasn’t thinking about saying anything. I was going to let it go, but at the same time I cannot imagine sitting there and allowing this A-MOG to continue to contradict himself in the pulpit. Isn’t there a Men’s Retreat this weekend?” Quincy said, knowing that there was.
Tears became visible in Karen’s eyes. Quincy was convinced that she was reaching into her bag of tricks to manipulate him like she always did, but Quincy was not going for it.
“The Men’s Retreat is not the place to air dirty laundry,” Karen said.
“You know, that’s the perfect place, since Greater Anointing likes to pride itself on having a strong men’s ministry and a strong turnout of men.” Quincy cleared his throat before he continued. “One thing I know about men is that they are not easily fooled. We’re not like you women, who would just sit up there and worship the preacher. No, he needs to be brought to justice in front of other men, not women, who would only allow his actions to continue.”
Karen’s tears had become too much for her hand to handle. She reached into her pocket and removed tissues. Every time she wiped her eyes, more tears would emerge. This only added to her frustration.
“What happened to you? You didn’t used be this vengeful,” Karen said.
“I didn’t know I would wake up one day to find that my wife of twenty years was having an affair, and the so-called God I pray to allowed it to happen. You would have a vendetta too.”
Karen placed her hands together like a prayer. “Please, Quincy, I beg you, don’t go to the Retreat to make a scene.”