“What did you actually have for dinner in the Grand Grover?”
“Lobster,” Yayla answered almost inaudibly. Geraldo nodded. “Of course. You always eat lobster. At least he didn’t try to seduce you. I know his type.” He glanced at Yayla. “He didn’t try to kiss you, did he?”
But Yayla shook her head. “N-No James…he didn’t.”
Yayla hesitated and blushed, but Geraldo was so worked up that he didn’t notice it.
“Good,” Geraldo growled. “I would knock him down if he would have touched you.” He walked over to Yayla and gently kissed her forehead. “This world is full of horrible conmen, but I am so glad you are a wise woman that can be trusted.”
“W-What are you going to do now?” Yayla asked.
“I am going to confront him,” Geraldo smirked. “I am calling all the pastors together and we’ll have a meeting with him; all out in the open. And you’re going to tell everyone what he said.”
Yayla’s voice quivered. “M-Me. I-I need to be there?”
“Yes, my love. We’re going to bring him down before he gets his claws in our area.”
*
Yayla whimpered and stared at the floor in the meeting room of the auditorium as she gave her testimony to the twentysome pastors that had been summoned. Samson was glowering on his chair near the window with his arms folded. His hazel-brown eyes were filled with dark anger and he was shaking his head. His dreadlocks were ominously swaying in unison.
“And that’s w-what he said,” Yayla finished.
The pastors sat in stunned silence around an enormous round executive table. Some of them fumbled nervously with their water glasses while others swallowed or appeared to be in deep thought.
“Is that all true?” Pastor Bob Armsteadt, who was well respected in the community, spoke up. He was a big, chubby fellow with a big bald spot on his head and was wearing thick glasses. He squinted as he looked at Yayla who was clutching Geraldo’s hand.
“Yayla nodded without looking up. Armstead turned to Samson, who leaned back on his chair with a big scowl on his face and defiantly plucked at his dreadlocks.
But Armsteadt wasn’t impressed. “Why, Reverend Jackson, would you devise a plan to buy us all out and take over our churches?” he asked.
“It’s not my plan,” Samson answered. “It’s the Lord’s. God spoke to me.”
Armsteadt shook his head and scratched it. “Well, Reverend, He hasn’t said a word about that to us yet.”
Now it was Samson’s turn to shake his head. He leaned forward again and started to speak. “All of my words are being twisted. I have not even had the time to reveal the wonderful plan the Lord has for all of us here and for you pastors in particular.”
“Are you claiming that what Yayla said was a lie,” Geraldo spoke up. His face was red.
Samson looked Geraldo squarely in the eye. “Not everything she said was a lie, but she distorts the truth, making it look bad.” He shook his head and spread out his hands. “The devil will usually tell you a lot of truth, but he always contaminates it with a little bit of poison. It’s like rat poison. Rat poison is 90% good food for rats, but it’s the 10% that kills them.”
“How did she distort the truth?” Armsteadt demanded.
Samson did not respond right away and stared into empty space. Then he cleared his throat and said, “What I am about to share will shock all of you. I am sure you are familiar with the saying that a bad tree cannot bring forth good fruit and…”
“So?” Geraldo hissed.
“Well, it pains me I have to share this in such a public way,” Samson went on, “but there is a bad tree here. The devil is in our midst. And I tell you where she sits…” He turned and pointed his finger at Yayla, “…Behold, the dishonorable slut.”
“What?” Geraldo jumped up. “How dare you say such things?”
“I am not lying,” Samson raised his voice as he jumped out of his chair. “This woman has greatly stumbled me. It is true that for a small moment I fell for her trickery, but it happened only after she fed me multiple cocktails and…and…” his voice started to quiver, “…she seduced me and forced me into her…eh…my bed in the Grand Grover.” He covered his face with his hands and spoke with a broken voice, “I was in bed with her. I immediately got ahold of myself and corrected the matter, but I humbly confess… there was that moment, however small, when I was in the bed and not out.” Samson curled his lips and looked at Yayla with eyes that were as cold as steel that has been stored in the refrigerator. “This woman is sent to us by Satan. It is her mission to stumble the shepherds of the flock.”
Pastor Geraldo’s face became pale as he stared at Yayla who started to weep uncontrollably. The room broke out into pure pandemonium. Everybody shouted and screamed and wanted to know what had happened. Finally, Armsteadt climbed on a chair and yelled, “Silence everybody!” They all sat down again and Armsteadt turned to the weeping Yayla.
“Tell us, Yayla?” He demanded. “Is there any truth in these words?” Yayla, who sat shivering in a corner, looked up and turned her tearstained face to Geraldo. Her words were almost inaudible as she whispered, “I am so sorry, James. I didn’t want to…but…but…”
“But what?” It was very quiet now. Nobody spoke. Everyone wanted to hear what Yayla had to say.
Yayla let out another sob. “Y-Yes. It’s true. I was in his…bed…in the Grand Grover.”
At that moment, Samson broke out in prophecy and loudly started to proclaim a message for the confused pastors.
“Hear ye the word of the Lord…Because Thou hast touched My chosen vessel, Thou hast also touched the apple of Mine eye. Repent ye therefore and clothe ye yourselves into sackcloth and ashes that I may forgive and cleanse you from this great iniquity. Howl and weep ye sinners. Turn from your unrighteousness, so that I may pour out the waters of My forgiveness—”
“Stop this nonsense! Stop it in the name of Christ.” Geraldo rose to his feet. His face was as red as the lobster Yayla had been eating in the Grand Grover. “This is a false prophecy. I know my Yayla…”
“Apparently thou didst not,” Samson spoke under the anointing he was still feeling. A small tear trickled out of his left eye as he continued, “As God is my witness, I am only interested in the greater unity of the church.”
“We understand, Reverend Samson,” said a skinny pastor, dressed in a slick costume, who was sitting not too far away from Samson. He placed his hands on Samson’s shoulders in an effort to comfort him. “The temptations we as pastors face are unequalled.”
But Geraldo did not believe Samson. He clenched his fists and pushed his chair backwards. It fell on the plush carpet with a thud as he ran over to Samson and yelled, “Liar…You fat, smug liar!”
Samson saw him coming and tried to duck under the table but he was too late and Geraldo grabbed him by one of his dreadlocks and yanked him back up. Samson screamed in pain and was just about to receive a pummeling from the outraged Pastor when two other pastors grabbed Geraldo and forced him to the ground.
“Stop it. Right now, stop it! This is not a Christian way to solve a conflict,” Armsteadt screamed. “Shame on us all.” His colleagues pulled up the seething Geraldo who was still trying to kick Samson.
“Hush,” Almsteadt ordered. “We’ve heard Yayla. She confessed. This is an outrage.” He was still standing on the wobbly chair and was wringing his hands in desperation. “Not a word of this may leak out to the press.” Then he turned to Geraldo and glared. “I expect you to deal properly with your…eh…fiancé. Your violent outbursts are a disgrace,” he scolded. “Get yourself together, man. This meeting is over.”
*
When Samson was about to leave the building, Geraldo still yelled after him, steaming with anger. “Your ministry is over, Jackson.” His voice was strained and came in short gasps. “I am going to destroy you.”
Samson glared at his former friend. “Watch your mouth, Smiley Gerry. Remember, I am the Lord’s anointed.”
“No,
you’re not,” Geraldo hissed and narrowed his eyes into tiny slits. “I know that whatever happened between you and Yayla is your fault. You’re going down.”
Samson did not respond. He wanted to leave as soon as he could and stepped out into the street. He was glad to feel the cool breeze of Lake Crystal on his flushed cheeks. That had gone well. Still, the threats of Pastor Direheart troubled him. He knew the man well enough to know he did not speak idle threats. Something had to be done.
Jimmy Fox. It came to him in a flash.
He would contact Jimmy Fox.
Jimmy would know what to do. That man was skilled in such matters. The thought cheered Samson so much that he hummed all the way back to the Grand Grover.
Chapter 9
Sunshine & Shadows
KEEP YOUR FACE to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadow
—Helen Keller
“Lord…I’ve heard such disturbing reports about Samson. I want you to know I will stay faithful to the call You have given me. They say a life that is rooted in Christ cannot be uprooted, but the trials are hard, Lord. But as far as Samson is concerned, Lord, I fear he has never yet been truly rooted in You. Bring that to pass, dear Lord and break his human pride. I shed my tears for him as You shed your blood for all of us. I know Samson is not ready to listen to my humble words. He sees me just as his weak wife who doesn’t know anything. And it’s true, Lord, that I am weak, and I know very little, but You are strong in me and You know everything, so I am just trusting in You and holding on to Your promises. Amen.”
*
“I want that man gone. Run him out of town. Can you do it?” Samson narrowed his eyes and looked at the skinny man on the couch with his long, greasy hair that hung in strings over his shoulder. His face was pockmarked and unshaven and Samson guessed the man hadn’t had a bath in a month.
The man nodded. “Sure…What has he done to you?”
“Jimmy,” Samson sighed, “just do it, will you? The less you know the better. I’ll pay you a good sum of money.”
Now he had Jimmy Fox’ full attention. “How much will you pay me?”
Samson smiled. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Jimmy nodded. “Sure, man.” He scratched his greasy head and leaned back on the couch. “Hey…got any beer in this joint?”
Samson wrinkled his nose. Jimmy was the only one he knew who was capable of doing things… well…things that best would stay hidden. He had met Jimmy three years earlier in jail. Samson was helping out in a prison ministry and they had struck up a bit of a friendship. Arson was Jimmy’s weakness, although he himself called it a talent. However that so-called talent had landed him in jail, but recently he had been released and asked Samson if he didn’t have work for him. He needed money, and although Samson didn’t particularly like Jimmy, he did indeed have a good job for him. Jimmy needed to solve that annoying problem with Pastor Direheart and how Jimmy would do it was not really his concern, as long as he would get the job done.
“No beer, Jimmy. Only whiskey; want some?”
“Sure, Reverend. On the rocks, please.”
*
Samson expected news. He had made his deal with Jimmy almost a week ago, so when Annie told him Pastor Armsteadt was on the line he was not surprised.
“Have you heard?” Pastor Armsteadt’s voice was strained. He sounded weak and far away. Maybe it was just due to a bad connection. Samson had a hard time hearing and banged his phone. That sometimes helped.
“What? Can you speak up, Pastor?”
“Pastor Direheart’s house…burned to the ground…It’s gone.”
Samson swallowed. “Pastor Direheart’s house burned down?”
Jimmy had done his job.
“That’s terrible, Pastor. How did it happen?”
“They don’t know. The Police are still investigating…It was probably caused by an electrical problem.”
“But…” Pastor Armsteadt’s voice was barely audible… “There’s more.”
“More?”
“Pastor Geraldo Direheart and his fiancé, Yayla…” He stopped for a moment and Samson strained his ears to hear. “They are dead.” His voice was dark and quivered with emotion.
“D-Dead?” Samson broke out into a sweat. He had not wanted to kill them. Jimmy was supposed to just scare them; run them out of town, but not kill them. “How?”
“After that horrible meeting from last week,” Armsteadt went on, “Pastor Direheart and Yayla decided to fast together in order to sort out their trouble…That’s why Yayla was sleeping there. They got caught unawares and couldn’t get out on time.”
Samson’s mind was racing. At least his problem was solved, but was there a trail that could lead the police to Jimmy and him? For now he would have to play along and maybe in the end it would all work out.
“I know you two had problems,“Armsteadt spoke, “but we will hold a special service tomorrow. Will you come?”
“Of course, Pastor…I’ll be there. Thank you for contacting me.”
As Samson put down his phone he thought for awhile and a sly smile appeared on his face. Maybe he could use this whole thing to his advantage.
I am just hoping Jimmy didn’t leave any trails.
*
Samson Jackson placed his special reading glasses on his nose and cleared his throat as he glanced at the paper in his hand. The eyes of at least a thousand people were glued on him as began his short speech.
“I am not usually reading my sermons,” he began, “but today I am too emotional to trust my own inspiration, so I wrote down the words. This way I can show my proper respect to our dear Pastor friend and his beloved fiancé…Two young lives were ripped away from our midst in a senseless accident. Many of you know that Pastor Direheart and I had our differences, but in reality we were the best of friends. Just before this terrible tragedy we were able to reconcile many of our differences. In fact, he urged me to help him in his relentless struggle to defeat the disunity in the church and I told him I would give him my full support…”
And so Samson spoke for a good twenty minutes. Most people were nodding in agreement and when Samson was done and climbed down from the pulpit he knew he had been able to turn even the death of Geraldo and Yayla to his advantage.
He wondered what Precious would be serving him for dinner.
*
“Me? A relationship with Yayla? Of course not.” Samson wrinkled his nose. He glanced at Precious who was sitting at the kitchen table. She looked tired. Maybe he should take her to the movies; that would cheer her up. “It’s all a mistake, Precious. Just rumors and lies that are taken out of context to hinder the work of God.”
He poured himself a glass of iced tea and sat down next to her. “Who told you that anyway? It’s not in any newspaper?”
Precious shrugged her shoulders. “A woman.”
“A woman? What woman?”
Precious looked up into her husband’s face. “Samson…I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you are walking in the wrong direction. Things are getting out of hand. You are not really following the Lo—”
But Samson interrupted her and his face was red. “What woman?”
“She just called yesterday. Her name was Stobe or Stole—”
“Stone?”
Precious nodded. “That’s right. I believe her first name was Madeleine.”
She told me you had an affair with the woman who just died in the fire. She sounded very angry…”
“Angry? How?”
“Well…eh…” Precious looked up into Samson’s eyes, “She said you seduced her too and forced her to give big donations to the church and she—”
“All lies,” Samson shouted. “All lies from the pit of hell.”
“Turn to Jesus, Samson,” Precious grabbed Samson’s hand and squeezed it. “He loves you.”
“Of course, he loves me,” Samson growled back and pulled his hands away. “I am the chosen one.”
Precious pressed her lip
s together and softly said, “This Stone woman doesn’t seem to think so. She says you betrayed her and she is going to fight you.”
“What?” Samson froze. “What did she say?”
Precious clasped her hands together. “I am going to destroy him.” Those were her very words. She said she was going to run you out of town.” Precious was shaking now. “She sounded real mean. What’s going on, Samson. Did you seduce her and did you have a relationship with that other woman?”
The blood had drained from Samson’s face as he looked up to the ceiling.
He whispered a Bible passage. It was almost inaudible. “Lord, how are they increased that trouble me! many are they that rise up against me.” *
“Turn to Jesus, Samson.” Precious said. “Really yield. It’s your only hope.”
*Psalm 3:1
ACT 2 - THE GREAT DECEIVER
Chapter 1
The Pleasures of Sin
THE PLEASURES OF sin are for a season, but the consequences of sin are forever.
“Then went Samson to Gaza, and saw there an harlot, and went in unto her.”
Judges 16:1
Samson leaned over to grab the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon on the nightstand next to the king size bed of the Shady Grove and poured himself another glass of wine. Candy was lying beside him under the silky sheets of the sparsely decorated motel room. Her soft fingers slid over his manly chest and she looked up at the Reverend with adoring eyes.
“And me? Am I not getting any more?” She took the glass out of Samson’s hand and placed it to her own lips. Her sudden movement made the bed creak and the mattress sagged. The Shady Grove was not the same as the luxurious Grand Grover that Samson was used to. This was the sort of establishment where you had to pay for a room by the hour. But Samson didn’t mind. He needed to stay out of sight as he had enough trouble already and he figured no one would suspect him to visit a place like the Shady Grove.
“You had enough wine,” Samson said and demanded the glass back. But Candy just giggled and while she was holding the glass high in the air and away from Samson, she started to cover his lips with passionate kisses. Her dark brown curls covered Samson’s face.
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