Precious lifted her eyes to the heavens. Dear Lord, help us with whatever may come.
*Luke 22:31
Chapter 5
Never Too Bad
YOU CAN NEVER be too bad for Jesus - only too good.
As the bus was driving to the big city, Precious again read the letter that she had received earlier that week. But since the ride was quite bumpy she could not concentrate very well. It didn’t matter. The letter was smudged from the countless readings and she had almost memorized the content.
She hated these letters from Madeleine Stone, but the information in this letter was too serious to dismiss. She had prayed about it with Mary and her prayer group. Mary at first had been cautious. “You can’t go there alone. Let me at least go with you.” But Precious felt this was something she had to do by herself. God would keep her although she had no idea how this was going to work out.
…Hello, Are you Candy Casselmann? My name is Precious Jackson. I am the wife of
Samson Jackson, one of your clients. Are you sure the baby you carry in your belly is my husband’s?
How was Miss Casselmann going to react? Would she get angry and scream? But a baby was serious business. Samson had always said he didn’t want children as of yet. And now this…
The bus came to a stop. The driver announced with a lazy voice, “St.Mildred Square.” Precious got up. This was her stop. After a careful search online, Mary had found Candy’s whereabouts. Her apartment was near St.Mildred Square at Comstock Avenue. Not the best part of town. Precious shivered as she got out and stepped onto the pavement. It was fresh today and a slight rain fell from the grey, overcast sky. The sidewalk was fairly empty. Only a few lonely pedestrians walked by with hurried steps and on the other side of the street a fat lady was dragging along a little mongrel that was trying to snatch some garbage from under a piece of cardboard. A few cars sped by and a motorcycle stopped with squeaking brakes. Precious almost wished she had not gone out on such a wild goose chase, but something inside her heart compelled her to keep going.
Where was Comstock Avenue?
“Comstock Avenue?” A lanky fellow with greasy hair pointed in the general direction, “Over there. Right near that big sign with the advertisement of that TV preacher.”
Precious blushed and after she had thanked the man she walked in the direction of the sign. When she saw the billboard, she gasped. There was Samson looking down on her with an enormous grin. Dressed in his customary sweatshirt which, according to Samson, was the best way to appeal to the youth, and with his stylish dreadlocks combed backwards he offered an invitation, arm outstretched:
Let me be your friend on Sunday morning
I’ll be there for you at 8.30
Glories of the Kingdom TV
She had never seen this sign. Samson never wanted her near his office. “You are good at praying,” he used to say. “Let me do the real thing.” Precious shook her head. It wouldn’t make her visit to Candy Casselmann any easier.
Two minutes later she found Candy’s apartment. The green paint on the door was peeling and a handwritten sign read, “Bang loud. Bell broken.”
Precious swallowed. All right, girl. Here we go. She knocked and listened with bated breath. Nothing. With a sigh, she formed a fist and drummed on the door.
There was noise. Someone was coming.
The door swung open and a young woman dressed in a bathrobe appeared. She stared at Precious with questioning eyes. Her brown curls were held back in a ponytail.
“Yeah?” she demanded.
“Miss Casselmann?” Precious stammered. “I…eh…I…” But nothing came. This girl was barely twenty. She was just a child.
Candy curled her lips and tapped with her finger on the door. “What do you want? I don’t have all day.”
Precious shot up a quick prayer, Jesus help me.
Instantly she felt the Spirit speaking to her. Just tell her who you are. The Spirit was so comfortingly close. It gave her the courage she needed.
“Miss Casselmann…I am the wife of one of your…uh…clients. Samson Jackson.”
Candy froze and wanted to close the door.
“Please…Miss Casselmann. I am not here to cause trouble. I just came to see you.”
Candy stared at Precious but kept the door open.
“My name is Precious Jackson.” Precious stuck out her hand. Candy looked at it for some time and then grabbed it.
“You look pretty harmless,” she said at last. “I’ve got a minute. Come in then.” There was a hint of a smile on her face. “My name is Candy. Don’t mind the mess.” She opened the door wide and Precious stepped inside.
She guided Precious through a semi-dark hallway to her living room which was no more than 16 feet square. It smelled musty.
Still, Precious was surprised to see how neat Candy had kept her surroundings. The furniture was very old and the leather couch had some rips, but everything was clean and organized. In the corner stood a huge floor lamp and Precious sank down in the lazy chair that stood next to it.
“Tea? Coffee?” Candy asked.
“Tea is fine,” Precious answered. “It’s not messy here at all Candy,” she said, hoping to break the ice.
Candy just shrugged her shoulders and started to boil water for the tea.
“It’s unusual I meet a wife of one of my clients.” Candy said after some time. “Are you tormenting yourself?”
Precious swallowed. “No Candy, not at all. It’s just that…well; I am trying to understand my husband. Are you still seeing him?”
Candy shook her head. “Nah. Last time we had an argument. I haven’t seen him in two months.”
“B-But,” Precious tried, “He gave you something…”
Candy poured the boiling water in two cups and looked up.
“What do you mean?”
“Well…uh…are you not with child?”
Candy’s blood drained from her face as she stared at Precious. “H-How…?”
“There’s a lot going on, Candy. Most of which you are not aware of. But Samson has enemies and they have hired a private detective.”
“What, a private eye? So you are here to bring trouble.” Her face had an empty stare. “I thought you were nice.”
“Candy…I want to be nice. But…” Precious hesitated, “…these enemies have written me an accusing letter in the hope of destroying our marriage and they claim you…may be carrying his baby.”
Candy did not move even a muscle. She stared at Precious while she was pouring the boiling hot water into the teacup. It started to overflow. An angry scowl slid over her face and she looked at Precious with fiery eyes. “And now you are here to find out if the baby is really Samson’s. What do you care anyway? I am just a whore.” Candy started to sob and tears rolled out of her eyes. She sank down on the ripped leather couch and covered her face with her hands.
A wave of compassion shot through Precious’ body. This girl was so young and the world was preying on her like angry wolves would devour their spoil. And Samson was one of those wolves. She got up and knelt down near Candy. “I just want to help, Candy,” she said. “I am just trying to find the good in all this misery.”
“There’s no good in this world,” Candy sniffed, “and yes, it’s true. I am carrying Samson’s baby. At the time of conception, I have only been with Samson. I’ve figured it all out. But don’t worry…You will have no trouble from me. Next week I am going to have an abortion.”
It was as if an arrow pierced Precious’ heart. She grabbed Candy’s hands. “Candy…look at me. Why would you do that?”
Candy shrugged and sobbed. “I am a whore. I can’t afford to have children and your husband is a big shot preacher. It would ruin him if the world finds out I am carrying his baby. He was sort of nice to me, you know.”
Precious shivered as a wave of coldness coursed through her body. She pulled Candy close to her and the girl rested her tearstained face on Precious’ breast.
“The las
t time I saw him we had a fight.” Candy sniffed. “I had big bills and figured he could afford it a bit more, but he got angry. I have never seen him after that.”
Precious could not think straight. Here she was holding and comforting the woman who was carrying her husband’s baby. She should scream and hit this girl, but she felt no anger. To her, she felt she was holding one of God’s misguided lambs in her hands and her heart was touched with the desperate tears from this girl who was as lost as her own husband.
“Candy,” Precious demanded. “No abortion.”
“W-what?”
“I said no abortion. If Samson is responsible for a baby then he will have to face up to the consequences.”
More tears came. “I don’t want an abortion,” she sniffed, “but I have to. I have no means to raise a kid and it is better for everyone if I don’t have a child.”
“Nonsense,” Precious said. “God has given you a child. A child is a gift.”
“But I can’t afford it…” Candy stammered. “Besides, how can I raise a child in this environment?”
“Candy, look at me.” Precious took Candy’s face in both of her hands. “I’ll pay for the child. I will pay for everything you need. I don’t know what tomorrow may bring, but I know who holds tomorrow and an abortion is not part of the plan.”
“Y-You pay…? But aren’t you furious with me?”
“O Candy, if you could only understand how much the Savior loves all of us.” Precious caressed Candy’s curls and pulled her close to her breast again. “We’re all of the same make. You, me, Samson…We are all sinners. We are all capable of doing bad stuff. But God in us makes the difference.”
“You really think so?” Candy whimpered.
Precious nodded. “I really think so. I…,” Precious hesitated, “must say, I thought girls in your profession would be…well, a little more careful.”
Candy looked up and nodded. “I thought I was, but it apparently didn’t work.”
“Well,” smiled Precious, “maybe it’s a miracle child then.”
But that thought didn’t comfort Candy much. She asked with a quiver, “W-won’t it affect Samson’s m-ministry?”
“I am sure you’ve seen that stupid billboard sign near your house,” Precious said. “It’s time Samson started a real ministry instead of this circus.”
Chapter 6
The Worst Sin of All
ALMOST THE WORST sin of all is to just ignore God!
Jeff Boyle and Pepe Gonçalez, some of Happy Redeemer’s most trusted deacons, stood before Reverend Jackson’s desk and waited to see what he would say. Pepe was still trembling and Jeff Boyle’s nervous tic was in full swing. The skin under his left eye constantly shot up and it irritated Samson. He rubbed his forehead and sighed as he read the message again that they had brought him.
“So the whole counseling room is destroyed?” he asked at last.
Jeff nodded, “Pretty much.”
“And this message was taped to the wall?”
“Yes,” Pepe said. “I was so scared, Reverend. I never had persecution before in my life. I am so glad that monster didn’t see me. Only God knows what he would have done to me.”
“So, you actually saw the thug?” Samson narrowed his eyes and peered at Pepe.
“Well…not really; just a little bit.” Pepe bit his lips. “His head was covered with a hood. I just came in to prepare for the service and heard the noise of breaking wood. When I opened the door to the counseling room I saw this maniac with a baseball bat. He was nuts. …Just tearing the whole place down.” Pepe’s lips started to tremble. “I ran to the altar and hid behind the ATM you installed there for people’s offerings and tithes. I figured it would be the safest place to be.”
Samson read the note again.
Behold, this is my battle axe. With this axe I will break in pieces the nations, and with this axe I will destroy kingdoms; I will break in pieces the horse and his rider.*
Cast away the yoke of your pastor. Speak out against him and you shall not be punished.
He pushed the note away in disgust. “Intimidation. It’s just intimidation. The devil is mad because we are doing such a good work for the Kingdom. But I believe I know who the devil is using for his dirty work.”
“You do?” Pepe Gonçalez and Boyle looked at Samson with big, round eyes.
Samson nodded. “The devil is just bluffing, boys. Don’t you be his next meal, for the Lord is with us. Not a hair of our heads shall fall and no weapon that is formed against us shall prosper.* Remember, I am the Lord’s anointed.”
“Yeah…you bet you are,” said Pepe while he shook his fist in defense of his beloved Reverend. “We will not give in. We are men of courage.”
“Amen!” added Boyle.
“Tell me,” Samson asked Pepe. “What did the thug look like? I know you barely saw him, but still…was there anything special about him?”
Pepe shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know, Reverend. I guess he had long hair, as I noticed some strings of greasy hair coming out from under his hood. Not a very fat fellow either and…” Pepe thought for a moment, “…well, he was waering these silly pink sneakers. Nobody wears those things, so they stand out.”
Samson’s heart skipped a beat. There was only one person he knew that was skinny, had stringy, long hair and loved wearing pink sneakers.
It was time to pay Jimmy Fox a visit.
*Jeremiah 51:20-21
* Luke 21:18, Isaiah 54:18
*
“Why Jimmy? What has gotten into you?” Samson did his best to control his anger, but his hands ached and he wanted to beat that smirk of Jimmy’s face. “Who told you to destroy our counseling room? I know it was you.”
Jimmy just smiled. He opened another can of beer and put his feet on his coffee table.
“You want a beer too, Reverend?”
“Jimmy…you are such an idiot. You need to lay low. You killed two people when you burned down that house and—”
“Quiet, Reverend,” Jimmy interrupted. “Don’t even talk about it. Remember you gave the order. If I go down you go down with me.”
“That’s why we need to be careful, Jimmy.” Samson wrung his hands. “I thought you were my friend, but now you are destroying my church.”
“I’ve got no friends besides money, Reverend. I work for the highest bidder.”
Samson was speechless. “Who paid you to do this?”
“Information is costly these days, Reverend,” Jimmy smirked while he downed another beer. His greasy hair slid over the couch and left stains on his couch. Samson felt like puking.
“How much do you want?”
Jimmy thought for a while and then a smile appeared on his pockmarked, unshaven face.
“Three hundred dollars, Reverend.”
Samson pulled out his wallet and dumped the bills on the coffee table near Jimmy’s sweaty socks. The crook leaned forward and stuffed the bills in his pocket.
“Bunky Weaslemeyer came to see me,” he said. “He works for Bob Armsteadt and Madeleine Stone. Armsteadt wrote the message.”
Samson gritted his teeth. “I knew it,” he hissed. “And now; what’s their next move?”
Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know.”
Samson’s throat felt dry as he swallowed. “How can I keep you off my back? I mean, for real.”
Jimmy looked up. His eyes resembled those of a crocodile who was eyeing a dumb water buffalo.
“For the right price, I’ll do anything.”
Samson grabbed his dreadlocks. “Why would I pay you again? I don’t want you to kill more people. It’s bad enough as it is.”
Jimmy just moved his shoulders. “Who knows, Reverend; that Bunky fellow may want to hire me again. And as you know I can be pretty destructive.” As he chuckled, his beer belly moved in perfect rhythm with his laughter. “But,” he went on, “I might have some information that will bring a smile to your face. For a bit more money I’ll work for you again.”
“How much more?” demanded Samson.
“One thousand,” Jimmy said while he licked his lips.
“Another thousand, are you nuts?” How did he ever get involved with this guy? “That’s a lot of money, Jimmy.”
“It is, Reverend. It is,” Jimmy said. “But it’s up to you. No one is forcing you.”
Samson glared at Jimmy. “Done,” he said at last with a hoarse voice. “I’ll put it on your bank tonight. I don’t carry that much cash on me.”
A sly smile was playing on Jimmy’s face. “Maybe you should call your wife. She seems to be doing errands like this for you all the time. I heard she ran to the Grand Grover once with an envelope for a man called Joaquim. You apparently had not enough cash to pay for your adventures with Candy Casselmann.”
A chill climbed up through Samson’s spine. “H-How do you know about that?”
“Madeleine Stone,” Jimmy answered while he started to clean his fingernails with his pocket knife. “She’s on to you, Samson. But listen, I sort of like you. I don’t care for that Bunky Weaslemeyer. He is a real snake. If you bring me that money by eight tonight I am on your side.”
Samson bit his lips. “Can you be trusted, Jimmy?”
“Man,” Jimmy complained, “I am as honest as they come. And remember if you go down, I’ll go down too, so we’d better cover for each other.”
Samson nodded. “So what’s that bit of information you said that would make me smile?”
Jimmy shook his head. “I haven’t been paid yet. I’ll tell you tonight when you come back with the dough.” A sly smile appeared as he said, “I’ll put some beer in the cooler for you.”
Chapter 7
Broken
GOD ONLY USES broken men & women - no others will do!
When Samson came home that night, after he had delivered an envelope to the house of Jimmy Fox and talked to the man for over an hour, his muscles ached. It had been a long day and a slight headache was setting in. Maybe that was due to the beer he drank at Jimmy’s place. He had to admit, Jimmy’s information had been good and he and Jimmy were back in business.
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