Goodness and Mercy

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  Her aunt Cee-Cee had been upset, only because Gabrielle now would no longer be bringing in the weekly money she’d previously made. That’s how Gabrielle learned about Miss Crowe’s car accident: her aunt was fussing about the unexpected loss of income. Miss Crowe had been so excited, giddy even, before all of this happened. She’d talked about a surprise she had for her, hardly able to contain her enthusiasm. She said she couldn’t tell her yet, but she would disclose everything after the first of the year.

  Gabrielle would never know what the surprise was. And she hadn’t heard from or heard anything more about Miss Crowe since she was seventeen.

  She told Johnnie Mae about her search for a job at eighteen, fresh out of high school with no place to live. Originally, she’d stayed with a girlfriend whose parents were paying the rent on an apartment while she attended the University of Alabama in Birmingham. What Gabrielle had really wanted to do was attend college. But for her, that wasn’t even an option. She didn’t have a backup system the way her friend did. She didn’t have anyone to help her, to encourage her. Then, she and her friend fell out over what her friend believed was her trying to get with her boyfriend.

  Nothing could have been further from the truth. In fact, the truth was it had been her friend’s very married (at the time thirty-three-year-old) father who had been making a play for her. Yet, through no fault of her own, she was forced again to find another place to live. Following that was what could only be summed up as the darkest period of her life. A time she didn’t care to think about, let alone ever want to talk about. That part of her life was her secret—something she intended to carry with her to her grave. But eventually, she did manage to pick herself up, pull herself together, and she got a job waiting tables. It wasn’t anything glamorous. She didn’t make a lot of money. But at least it was something—it was a job.

  After the guy who owned the place learned she didn’t have anywhere to stay, he offered her a spot in his home. She declined his offer, even after he told her she was welcome to sleep on his couch if that would make her feel better. A compassionate man, he compromised and allowed her to stay at the place where she worked in an area in the dressing room that was just a little larger than a walk-in closet. She later learned, this was totally against his normal policy. Still, he had agreed to do it until she was able to save enough money and secure a place of her own. It wouldn’t take her long to discover exactly who Clarence was—a man who competently and astutely handled his business, but also a man with a good heart.

  Six months later, she started working in a different capacity, opting to continue her employment with Clarence. And that’s when the money began rolling in hand over fist. And it had paid off. Three years ago, she was able to purchase a house thanks in part to the relaxed rules of securing a mortgage, rules that didn’t have strict requirements like hard-and-fast proof of income or employment. The same rules the country was now blaming for the collapse in the banks and the housing market.

  She told Johnnie Mae everything. She even told her how, on the morning of January first of this year, she’d been physically attacked.

  “You were attacked?” Johnnie Mae asked, having successfully interrupted her only during the times when she absolutely couldn’t hold back a question or comment.

  “Yes,” Gabrielle said, touching her now-healed neck as she recounted how it had felt having her air supply totally cut off. “This man had become unhealthily obsessed with me. Of course, I had no idea he was that crazy about me or that crazy, period. He’d been extremely nice to me whenever I saw him on my job. He would speak, I would speak back. I admit I was friendlier because it was part of my job description. Apparently, my pleasant demeanor caused him to think he had a chance of dating me. He had asked me out. I let him know that I wasn’t interested, and that I was particularly not interested in dating anyone associated with my place of work. Three times, he asked. He must have lost it sometime after that. I didn’t know it at the time, but apparently he started stalking me—seeing whom I interacted with, whom I was friendly with at work. The last time when I rebuffed his advance, he must have decided to take things a step further.”

  Johnnie Mae leaned back, pressing her index finger over her lips as though she was trying to keep her lips from parting to speak.

  Gabrielle swallowed hard, then continued. “One of my coworkers, a friend I was very close to, had her purse stolen that morning after work. Before she’d reported her cell phone stolen to the phone company, I received a text message from her phone telling me her car had broken down. ‘I need you. Please hurry. Please hurry,’ it read. She had texted me where to meet her. Although I was exhausted, I went. When I arrived, out of nowhere this man grabbed me. He was wearing a ski mask so I couldn’t see his face. But I knew I’d heard the voice before. He told me he wasn’t going to hurt me. He just wanted me to hear him out. He wanted me to give him a chance to show me how much he could love me. He had planned this special date for me so he could prove to me what a great guy he was.” Gabrielle stopped and took a deep breath.

  “When he attempted to take me to another location, I recalled what I’d been told should anyone ever try to do something like that. ‘Don’t let them move you to a second location,’ the defense instructor had said. So, I began to fight him. He held me that much tighter. I then bit his hand. He yelled, shoved me away, then grabbed me by my hair and began to slap me a few times with the full brunt of his strength. A ring he wore on his right hand cut me above my right eye when he backhanded slapped me one of those times.” She touched above her eye that had also now completely healed.

  “Blood ran down. He saw it, pulled me close, and hugged me, apologizing while saying my being hurt was my fault. He took off his mask. He kept saying he would never hurt me. That I had forced him to do that. All he wanted was to show me how much he loved me. He picked me up by my waist and headed for his car, popping his trunk open with his electronic key. I kicked and struggled, told him that I hated him and that he was going to jail for doing this. That’s when he set me down, yanked me around to face him, and grabbed me about my neck with his hands and started to squeeze, calling me an ingrate and other names. Said I’d been a tease, just like his mother. He began to strangle me, squeezing tighter and tighter as he talked. He then said if he couldn’t have me, then nobody would. Suddenly, there was this crazed look in his eyes. I tried to claw his hand from my neck. From the look in his eyes, I knew he was going to kill me. I gathered my strength, stomped as hard as I could, thankful I had on spiked heels. I then grabbed him in a place where I knew the pain would cause him to let go. He reacted as I suspected, releasing me in the process. I made it to my car and drove away as he tried to recover.

  “Of course, I learned only later that he’d stolen my friend’s purse to get her cell phone specifically for the purpose of luring me to him. She’d thought he was after her cash. Having her cell phone with my name and cell number programmed in it was his plan. A police friend told us later that people were reporting crooks stealing women’s purses with the sole purpose of getting their cell phones. They would then scroll through the address book, checking for references of relationships. If it said ‘husband,’ the stolen phone was often used to text that spouse requesting the PIN number for their ATM. The unsuspecting spouse would text back the PIN number. By the time they figured out what had happened, the thief would have cleaned out their bank account and been long gone.

  “The police friend said people should not label their phone list with words like home, husband, and wife. In my case, there wasn’t much any of this information would have done to help. He knew my name; he knew what he was looking for. His plan was to lure me to him, and he used her phone to successfully do just that. What I should have done, and now know from here on out, is what the police friend said people should do in this situation. If you get a text message saying something like that, call the person back and verify it’s really them and not someone who may have stolen their phone.”

  “So, wha
t happened after you reported the attack ?” Johnnie Mae asked.

  Gabrielle dropped her head, then raised it up. “I didn’t report it. But my friend reported the robbery, although she had no idea at that time what had happened with me. My ex-boss has a friend in law enforcement. After he learned what happened with me, he talked with him, which is how we learned about the scam people are now doing.”

  Johnnie Mae frowned at Gabrielle. “You didn’t report it? I don’t understand that. Why wouldn’t you report it?”

  “I just wanted it all to go away.” Gabrielle pressed her lips together.

  “So, you let him get away with doing that? He’s still out there, possibly able to attack you again or someone else?”

  Gabrielle let out a sigh. “Had I reported it, I would have had to press charges against him and most likely would have had to testify in court. I didn’t want to end up being dragged through the mud, having folks judge me for what they felt I had possibly done to cause all of this. The defense focusing attention more on what I might have been wearing or doing that could have driven him to behave the way he had. Me being asked what I’d done to mislead him. You know they would have been more focused on what I did wrong instead of judging him solely on the fact that he had no right to attack me. After that, I just went home and slept, two days. Then Sunday morning, I met a woman who wanted to talk to me about Jesus, I came to church, I heard the Word, and I ended up giving my life to Christ. As far as I’m concerned, my life began anew on that day.”

  Johnnie Mae nodded. “Thank God you’ve made some real changes in your life. So, where are you working now?”

  “For a maid service. As you can see, a great departure from my previous line of work for sure, especially financially. In fact, I have to confess that moneywise, it’s been a struggle. In fact, I’ve put my house up for sale because the money I make now doesn’t even come close to covering all of my present expenses.”

  “Let me ask you. Do you ever think about going back to your old line of work?”

  “No. But I have been offered to since I left. You know how the devil works.”

  “Oh, yes,” Johnnie Mae said. “He’ll look for cracks to slip in and do all he can to pull you back into his web of deceit.”

  “Tell me about it. The guy I worked for really isn’t a bad person. He even came by my house to let me know how much he wanted me to come back. Given my present financial situation, it could have been tempting. If you’re not strong in the Lord, if you’re trusting God in words alone, something like that could be quite appealing. And in truth, some might rationalize that there is nothing wrong with going back temporarily, you know, until God comes through with what you’re praying and believing for. But I love God too much to let Him down. At least, not on purpose. Not when I know what His Word says. I wouldn’t dare deliberately go against Him.”

  Johnnie Mae nodded. “Well, I thank you for your honesty. It speaks volumes to your character, your being as candid as you’ve been with me about everything.”

  “Fatima Adams and I have grown to be good friends over these past few months.” Crying now, Gabrielle wiped her eyes with her tissue. “She suggested that I talk with you if I ever felt I needed someone I could trust. She says you’re a great counselor. I’m also aware that this might weigh in your decision when it comes to me possibly being chosen as part of the dance ministry. But I want you to know that I am a new creature in Christ. And that I love the Lord with all my heart, mind, and soul. I may not be what I’m going to be when God gets through with me, but I’m for sure not the same person I used to be.”

  “I know that’s right,” Johnnie Mae said with a smile. “God is still working on all of us, me included. None of us have arrived. And if anyone tells you differently, then that in and of itself tells you that they haven’t.” Johnnie Mae stood up and held out her arms. Gabrielle stood and fell into her awaiting arms. “Keep your head up, okay? Even being a Christian, there will be times when you may feel like things aren’t working for you. Trust me, I know. But keep your eyes fixed on Jesus, and you’ll get there.” Johnnie Mae gently pushed her away arm’s length, and smiled as she helped wipe her tears away. She hugged Gabrielle again. “I love you, do you hear me? And if you ever need to talk to me, you call the church office and leave a message for me. I promise I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. And I want you to know that I’m pulling for you. I really am.”

  Gabrielle nodded, then smiled. “Thank you.” She then left, not knowing whether what she’d told Johnnie Mae would affect her being chosen for the dance ministry or not. But at least she’d done what she knew was right. She’d told the truth, the whole truth.

  Johnnie Mae couldn’t deny that Gabrielle had been anointed when she ministered through dance. But she now had to consider everything she knew when deciding whether or not she should be chosen for the dance ministry. And if chosen, what part of the body should she be?

  Chapter 15

  Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth.

  —Colossians 3:2

  Fatima called Gabrielle. “I just got a call about the dance ministry. I made it!”

  “You did?” Gabrielle said. “Oh, that’s great! Congratulations!” She was genuinely happy for Fatima. “Johnnie Mae said if we made it, we’d know on Tuesday. I am so excited for you.”

  “Thank you very much. So, have you gotten your call yet?”

  “Not yet. But I’m waiting by the phone, hoping and believing my call will come any minute now.”

  “I’m sure you’re going to get one. From what I heard from LaKeisha, the girl who was working the CD player, your audition was ‘crunk,’ ‘off the chain’ as she put it. I can’t see any reason why you, of all people, won’t make it. They’re probably going in alphabetical order. Alphabetically, Adams comes before Mercedes.”

  Gabrielle thought about her conversation with Johnnie Mae following her audition. What they discussed could be the one thing that might keep her from being chosen. At this point, she just didn’t know. Johnnie Mae had told her the committee would pray about who should be tapped. It was all in God’s hands now.

  Tuesday came and went without Gabrielle receiving a call from anyone with the dance ministry. To say she wasn’t disappointed would not be the truth. She had hoped and prayed so much that she would be chosen. For whatever reason, she hadn’t been.

  On Thursday, two days after the date they were told they would receive a call were they chosen, Johnnie Mae called Gabrielle.

  “Hi, it’s Johnnie Mae Landris. I’d like to meet with you if that’s possible. Would you happen to be available for lunch this Saturday?” Johnnie Mae asked.

  “Yes. Sure. I’m available. I would love to have lunch with you,” Gabrielle said. Truthfully, this being Thursday made Saturday feel like it was much too far away to find out what Johnnie Mae wanted to talk to her about.

  “Great! Then, I’ll fix lunch for the two of us here at my house. Do you have pen and paper handy? I’ll give you my address and the directions.”

  “Hold on a second.” Gabrielle located a pen and paper and wrote down Johnnie Mae’s address. Her car had a GPS, so she told her she would only need the address.

  Gabrielle arrived thirty minutes early. She wanted to be sure she found the house okay and not arrive late, just in case she got lost. She sat outside in the car, not wanting to ring the doorbell that early. A rapping sound on her window made her jump. She let down her window.

  “Pastor Landris,” she said.

  “Why are you sitting out here?” he asked.

  She smiled. “I was a bit early for lunch so I decided I would just wait out here.”

  “Well, that’s no reason for you to sit outside like this. You get out of that car and come on in the house.”

  “Are you sure? I’m not supposed to be here until one,” Gabrielle said.

  “Will you get out of that car and come on in our house?” He opened her car door. She raised up the window, retrieved her key, then pick
ed up her purse off the center console.

  They walked inside together. When she got in the house, the first thing she noticed on one of the walls was a large picture of a man sporting long dreadlocks standing behind Johnnie Mae, who had a then four-year-old Princess Rose sitting beside her. Upon closer inspection, Gabrielle quickly realized that the man in the photo was Pastor Landris. “That’s you?”

  “Yes, that’s me,” he said, grinning.

  “You had dreadlocks?”

  He ran his hand over his now low-cut hair. “Yes, I did.”

  “A preacher with dreadlocks? You actually had dreadlocks? A preacher . . . with dreadlocks?”

  “Yes, a preacher who used to wear dreadlocks.” He rubbed his head once more. “Aren’t you glad God doesn’t look at the outside of a man but the inside?”

  “Well, hi there,” Johnnie Mae said as she walked into the foyer. She hugged Gabrielle. “Did you have any trouble finding us?”

  “No, I came right here. I did leave early enough in case I got lost. I didn’t want to be late, which is why I arrived so early,” Gabrielle said.

  “Well, everything is ready, so you’re fine.” Johnnie Mae hunched her shoulders. “Next time, you come on up and ring the doorbell. Even if I hadn’t been ready, you could have waited in the den. But I’m like you. I was ready early . . . just in case.” Johnnie Mae led Gabrielle to the dining room.

  The table was beautifully set for two with fresh mixed flowers in a crystal vase. Because of the Landrises’ status as a mega church pastor and famous author, Gabrielle had expected a table of foods she would likely have never heard of, let alone know how to pronounce. That wasn’t at all the case. For lunch, Johnnie Mae had lasagna, salad, garlic bread, and a lattice cherry pie. Gabrielle was trying to figure out how Johnnie Mae could possibly know this was her favorite meal. She then remembered a question on their application for the dance ministry that asked that.