Pastor Samson's Secret Sins: The Story Of A Strong Man of God With A Weakness For Women

by Liberty Gaines

  “Oh Candy,” Samson sighed. “You are such a doll.”

  “I know,” Candy whispered. “That’s what I am here for.” She tickled Samson’s chin and chuckled.

  Samson liked the call girl with her brown curls. She wasn’t as attractive as Madeleine Stone, but she certainly wasn’t as dumb as Yayla. Samson pulled her closer to his chest and fumbled with her curls.

  Meeting Candy had become a weekly thing. They would meet for lunch every Thursday at two and then do whatever the Spirit led them to do.

  “Does your wife suspect you’re seeing someone?” Candy asked after she placed the empty wine glass back on the nightstand.

  Samson shook his head. “Please, don’t even mention it, Candy. Some things best stay hidden.”

  Many things needed to stay hidden. Things like Madeleine Stone and the letters she kept sending to Precious. She had vowed to destroy him. That woman was insane. Still he missed her comforting presence. She was rich and their relation had been wonderful, even though it had only lasted a short while.

  She had been instrumental in putting him on this glorious path. Had she not convinced him he was like Solomon in the Bible with his thousand wives and had she not encouraged him with his expansion plans, and even funded them?

  Another thing that needed to stay hidden was the unfortunate death of Pastor Direheart and his fiancé, Yayla. Luckily Jimmy Fox, the arsonist had done his job well and so far nothing had pointed to Samson’s personal involvement. Still…he had to be careful.

  As Candy caressed his hair he thought of his wife. He had to admit, Precious was a good woman. She always considered the needs of others above her own. Sometimes it scared him. How could anyone be so good and be so…precious? He hated the thought of hurting her, which was another reason he had to keep these outside relations far from her. Precious, with her mysterious green eyes and her long hair that hung in tight corkscrew curls down her face. Precious, with her fresh and innocent smile and the voice of an angel when she sang.

  She was too soft for this cut-throat society. Too heavenly minded. She was always talking about Heaven and God, and seeing the good in others. Very unrealistic. No, she was bound to get hurt, especially now that Madeleine Stone was feeding her all these lies about him through the mail. Samson sighed. “Such a shame…”

  “What, my Jungle King?” Candy asked as she kissed Samson’s neck.

  “Nothing, Candy.” He looked at the great wall clock above the life size mirror near the door and sighed. “Oh, my…Candy. It’s time to go.”

  “Already?” Candy yawned as Samson climbed out of the squeaky bed and stepped onto the faded carpet of the Shady Grove.

  “Sorry. Got to go,” Samson said.

  Candy nodded and yawned again. “By the way, I forgot to tell you, but I raised my prices?”

  “What?” Samson raised his eyebrows. “I even paid for your dinner at the Grand Grover. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

  Candy shrugged. “Thanks, Jungle King, but everybody is raising their prices. Times are hard. Instead of 100, I now cost 150.”

  “150!” Samson realized he raised his voice. “Isn’t that a bit steep?”

  Candy pursed her lips. “Am I not worth it, Jungle King? Besides, aren’t you the pastor of Happy Redeemer? What is it…5000 people every Sunday? You have your own television show. Special prices for special people. And…” Candy snorted, “I am good at keeping my mouth shut about my clients’ privacy. Up to a point at least.”

  Samson scowled. “What does that mean?” Candy did not answer and just looked at Samson with pursed lips.

  “I counted on 100,” he shot back. “It’s all I got.”

  “Is that so?” teased Candy as she climbed out of bed and stood before him. “Please consider the needs of your favorite courtesan.”

  Samson’s face reddened and he gritted his teeth. Maybe he should work on her religious feelings.

  “Did you ever think of tithing to the Lord, Candy?” Samson tried. “When you give to the Lord blessings will follow as sure as night follows day. You give and God returns.”

  “I don’t go for that sort of a thing,” Candy scorned. “With me it works just the other way. I give and you return.”

  Samson felt the anger rising in his chest. He just didn’t have enough money on him and he couldn’t afford another enemy. How did a mere prostitute dare to cross him?

  “Don’t be cheap, Lion King.” Candy continued. “Don’t you have a gold card?”

  “I-I uh…did not bring my credit cards. For security reasons…” Samson stammered. “I’ll pay next time.”

  “You men are all the same,” Candy lashed out while she slipped into her dress. “A while back you didn’t have money either, remember? It took forever before you paid me. I would say, pay me now or you’ve got the devil to pay.”

  Just as Samson opened his mouth to answer, his smartphone rang. A digital rendition of Nearer, O God to Thee sounded through the room. It startled them both. Samson pushed a button and placed the device to his ear. “Hello, Reverend Samson here.”

  “Hello, Samson.” The bubbly voice of Precious entered his ear. “Where are you?”

  “N-Nowhere,” Samson stammered. “I mean, uh, somewhere.”

  It was silent for a few seconds. Then Precious’ voice came back on. “Are you all right? You sound a little upset.”

  “Yes!” Samson answered with a curt nod. “I mean, no. I am not stressed. God is good.”

  Silence again. After some seconds, Precious spoke again. “Well, He certainly is. I just wanted to let you know I love you and that I am praying for you.”

  “Sure. Anything else, Precious?”

  “How did your meeting go?”

  “Meeting? What meetin—Oh, of course. My meeting.” He swallowed. “It went well.” He glared at Candy who was listening to the whole conversation with a smirk. She shouldn’t be listening to this.

  “Precious?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you home right now?”

  “I’m cooking dinner.”

  “Good.” Samson swallowed. “Could you do something for me?”

  “Uh huh. What?”

  “I am still in the meeting, but I have to make an important deposit to make for the church and I forgot my cards. Could you drive over to the Grand Grover in town and hand the desk clerk 50 dollars in an envelope. Put my name on it and—”

  “To the Grand Grover, just for 50 Dollars? But I am in the middle of cooking?”

  Samson dragged his hands through his dreadlocks. “Come on, honey. It’s for the Kingdom. Just do it and tell the clerk I’ll be coming by later to pick it up. The clerk’s name is Joaquim.” Samson could hear that Precious was struggling with the idea. “Just do it, honey. It’s urgent,” he coaxed. “You always say we need to help people. Here’s your chance. Put your money where your mouth is.”

  He heard her sigh. Samson knew she wasn’t happy but also knew she would do it.

  “Sure, Samson,” she said at last. “When are you coming back?”

  “Late, honey; very late. Don’t wait up.” Relief coursed through his body. He could always count on Precious. “And, honey…Thank you. I’ll make it up to you someday.”

  Without waiting for her reply, he switched off his phone and glared at Candy. “In an hour or so, you can come with me to the Grand Grover. Are you satisfied now?”

  “Precious, huh,” Candy sneered. “Your wife’s name is Precious.”

  Samson was no longer in the mood to play games. “That’s none of your business.” He felt a headache coming up and started to rub his forehead.

  “Well, in that case,” said Candy, “We better get out of here. Otherwise, you’ll have to pay the hotel and me for another hour.”

  Samson looked up and gave her a stony stare, but he knew she was right. Candy just shrugged her shoulders.

  “Just trying to help, Jungle King. Just want to save you some cash.”

  Samson slammed the door shut behin
d them. His day was ruined and he secretly blamed God for not taking better care of him.

  Chapter 2

  Be Bold, Be Careful

  BE BOLD IN what you stand for, but careful in what you fall for.

  “And it came to pass on the seventh day, that they said unto Samson’s wife, Entice thy husband, that he may declare unto us the riddle.”

  Judges 14:15

  From: Abraxas

  To: Boghule

  Boghule, the work is progressing too slowly.

  The Master is not pleased, and neither am I. Somehow, you haven’t been able to afflict the one called Precious. She continues to pray and that greatly hinders our plans. As a result, we still can’t deal our final blow to this dingbat Samson.

  It has also come to my attention you have boasted of your so-called successes in afflicting our subject with lust, greed and pride. However, the One Whose Name We Dare Not Speak has outsmarted you through the prayers of a mere, earthly woman.

  Both the Master and I are getting impatient.

  The Netherworld is watching you.

  Abraxas.

  The doorbell sounded harsh and commanding. Who could that be? Precious did not expect anybody. As she put down her basket full of clean laundry she walked down the stairs and opened the door. She stiffened as she faced two well-dressed men in suit and tie and a beautiful woman in a long flowery skirt. They looked up at her with plastic smiles. Precious sensed they were on a mission and knew she didn’t want to talk to them.

  “Are you Jehovah witnesses? I am rather busy,” she said while she gently bit her lip.

  The woman wrinkled her nose. “Of course not. Don’t you remember me?”

  Precious vaguely recalled having seen the woman before, but couldn’t quite remember where. Her long blond curls that were flowing past her shoulders were a rare sight to behold and she concluded this slender woman with her shiny red lips and piercing, blue eyes was a real heartbreaker.

  “I have written you several letters.” The woman continued with a scowl. “But you have not responded to any of them.”

  “Madeleine Stone!” Here was the woman who had written her these accusing letters about Samson. Now, Precious remembered where she had seen her before. She had been to church once or twice.

  One of the men cleared his throat. He was a husky fellow and his eyes were darting back and forth as he rubbed the bald spot on his head.

  “Mrs. Precious Jackson, may we come in? My name is Pastor Bob Armsteadt from the Fire Garden church and this is assistant pastor, Bunky Weaslemeyer. We represent most churches in the area.”

  “So?” Precious narrowed her eyes.

  “We would like to discuss a few things.”

  Precious was a gentle woman and given to hospitality. No beggar would ever be sent away without a word of encouragement, some food or a few coins, and Precious always made time for whoever needed it. But these people were different and she felt tempted to close the door on them.

  “Please, Ma’am,” urged Armsteadt, sensing her reluctance.

  “Yeah,” piped up Bunky Weaslemeyer, “It’s very important. It concerns your husband.”

  He grimaced as he said the word husband and spoke with a high-pitched voice while his breath came in short gasps. Precious wondered if he was having an asthma attack.

  “Come in,” Precious said at last, not wanting to make a scene. “Next time, please call for an appointment as I am in the middle of doing something.”

  “Sure, sure,” Armsteadt said and stepped inside after Precious made room.

  They hung up their coats and followed Precious to the living room.

  “Would you care for coffee or tea?” Precious offered after they had pulled out some chairs from under the dinner table and sat down.

  Armsteadt shook his head. “Thank you, but no. We like to come straight to the point, Mrs. Jackson.”

  “And what may that be?” Precious asked as she too sat down.

  Armsteadt pursed his lips and thought for a moment. “How should I phrase this…? Well, Mrs.Jackson, how is your relationship with the Lord our God?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What we mean,” Armsteadt said, “How important is the truth to you?”

  Precious raised her eyebrows. “The truth, what kind of question is that? Besides, I don’t even know you. Why would I discuss my personal convictions with you?”

  “Because,” Armsteadt continued, “We, unlike your husband, are representing the true church of God. Your husband is making a mockery of the faith. We are asking for your help to protect the flock and stop him.”

  “Yes, we need to stop him,” piped up Bunky Weaslemeyer.

  “Stop him?” Precious crossed her arms.

  “It appears,” said Armsteadt,“that your husband wants to take over the area. We believe he is motivated by greed and pride, but he has the financial means to do it and since he is a flamboyant speaker he has many followers. If he were to succeed with these plans, we ourselves would lose enormous amounts of influence and money. Our lives would be greatly affected. Help us to stop him, Mrs. Jackson.”

  Madeleine Stone cleared her throat and spoke up. “He’s a sinner, Mrs. Jackson. Have you read the letters I wrote to you?”

  Precious studied the witchy woman with her cold and demanding demeanor. She didn’t like this lady with her deceptive beauty one bit.

  Lord, what must I do? Please help me.

  “Did you read them?” Madeleine pressed Precious further and looked at her as a wolf would look at a lamb.

  “Yes, Mrs. Stone. I did.” Precious answered while her posture stiffened.

  “Then…,” Madeleine went on, “…you know that your husband seduced me and forced me to sleep with him. Not once, but on many occasions. Furthermore, he swindled me out of much money for his projects and that’s—”

  “—where he got his initial money from,” Armsteadt took over. “The man is just building his own kingdom, and you, Mrs.Jackson, can help us to stop him before he goes too far.”

  “Yeah,” piped up Bunky. “We need your help. He’s demanding the worship of his followers; he’s drinking and has sex outside of marriage. Sex is of the devil…eh…I mean, outside of marriage.”

  Precious gave a slow, disbelieving shake of her head. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Well,” said Armsteadt, “We need you to testify against him.”

  “Yeah,” gasped Bunky. “Testify!”

  Madeleine Stone spoke up again. “I have personally suffered greatly at the hand of Reverend Samson.” She rolled her eyes that looked so dark they almost seemed black, “But it’s just my word against his. There no proof but if you would speak up against him in an official way, righteousness will prevail and the simple sheep of God are all safe.”

  Precious lowered her eyes. She wasn’t blind to Samson’s behavior, and although Samson never abused her, she was no fool. She had chided him a thousand times about his carnal ways, his lack of prayer and his hunger for adoration and power. What was more; she had no reason to doubt Madeleine’s accusations. Samson probably had slept with her, maybe with others as well. But on the other hand these pastors, or whatever they were, did not impress her with their deep concern for God’s true flock. They appeared smug, selfish and superficial. Madeleine Stone wasn’t superficial, but she certainly was not an innocent woman that had been led as a sheep to the slaughter by Samson. More likely it was the other way around.

  Dear God…You told me to marry Samson and to stand by his side in spite of the hardship. Please give me strength.

  Tears pricked her eyes.

  When Armsteadt saw her tears, he placed his hand on her arm and said with a reassuring voice, “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Mrs.Jackson. There is still time for you to do the right thing.”

  “Yeah,” offered Bunky while he fished a small folder out of his briefcase, opened it and slid it over the table to Precious. “We have prepared a written statement. It’s full of truth and all you have to do i
s sign your name here—” he pointed to an empty spot on the bottom of one of the official looking papers, “—and we can use this as your official statement. It will solve a lot of our problems.” He looked up at Precious with glowing eyes.

  Two big tears rolled out of Precious’ eyes and fell on the document before her. She shook her head. “You three are being ridiculous. Of course, I won’t sign this paper.” She wiped the tears of her face and looked at her tormentors and spoke with a clear voice, “I know my husband has not been the example he is meant to be, but I believe God is working out a plan, and that plan has nothing to do with me signing your…eh…paper. I will not sign.”

  “Not sign?” Armsteadt’s hand flew to the bald spot on his head. “But, Mrs. Jackson you don’t realize that if your husband is going down, you are going down with him.”

  “Yeah,” added Bunky in his high-pitched voice. “You’re going down too.”

  “No, I am not,” Precious said as she shook her head. She had more than enough of these people. “I belong to God, and He never goes down, no matter the circumstances.”

  “I have money,” Madeleine Stone said through gritted teeth. “If it is money you want we can make a deal. How much do you want?”

  “Yeah,” said Bunky, “How much?”

  Precious stared wide-eyed at the three visitors. “Samson is having serious issues,” she said at last, “but I think you three may even be worse. I want you to leave my house immediately.”

  “Just sign that paper, woman,” Armsteadt murmured under his breath. His self-image had blown a gasket, but Precious didn’t even hear it anymore. She had gotten up and walked towards the front door in order to open it. “Goodbye, gentlemen and goodbye Mrs. Stone. Please don’t ever set foot here again.”

  The three exchanged worried glances as they got up.

  “You are making a bad mistake, Mrs. Jackson,” Madeleine Stone hissed as she walked passed Precious. “Yeah…a very bad one,” added Bunky Weaslemeyer, while he shook his head in disgust.

  Precious swallowed as Armsteadt brushed passed her on his way out. She got a bitter taste in her mouth and as she closed the door a new wave of tears washed over her.