Song of Praise

by Vanessa Miller

  “What’s up,” Britney said as she answered the phone, careful to keep her eyes on her subject.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m on an assignment. Is everything okay with Tyler?” Rita had named her daughter Tyler. Britney thought it was the perfect name.

  “She’s taking a nap.”

  “Did you need anything, or can I call you back when I’m done?”

  “No. I need to talk to you now,” Rita snapped.

  Rita’s voice was full of fear.

  “Why do you sound like that? What’s wrong?”

  “Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it.”

  Ever since the senator’s wife had held them hostage and threatened to kill them for having affairs with her husband, Rita had been on edge and nervous about everything. The woman hadn’t been able to move on with her life, which was why Britney helped out with Tyler as much as she did. But Rita needed to get it together, she had her child to think about.

  “I need you to get off this case right now.”

  “I’m in my car, Rita. The guy doesn’t even know that I’m here.” Just as she said that Jason stood up and stretched. The roofer guy stood up also. She really needed to get off this call so she could do her job. “Why are you so upset?”

  “Your job just makes me nervous. I don’t know how you can do this. If something happens to you, there will be no one to help me raise Tyler. Is that what you want?”

  “Calm down, okay? I’m just doing my job. Nothing is going to happen to me.”

  “I feel it in my gut, Britney. Something bad is about to happen. I want you to stop whatever you’re doing and get out of there immediately.”

  “I’ve got to finish my work. But I’ll come by to pick up Tyler and take her to the park when I’m done.”

  “No! Listen to me, Britney. It was during my prayer time. I closed my eyes and began to meditate and then God showed me a vision of someone lying on the floor, dead. I couldn’t make out who it was, so I’m not taking any chances. Get here now.”

  The roofer guy walked around to the front of the house. Jason picked up a hammer from the tool box on the back patio and headed for the ladder. “I’m a big girl, Rita. I can take care of myself. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up the phone, picked up her camera and rolled down her window.

  Jason stood by the ladder, but before getting on he turned around and looked directly at Britney’s car. “Busted. Oh God, please don’t let Jason kill me and have Rita be right about this,” she said as she laid her camera down and turned the ignition key. But as she was about to pull off, Jason turned away from her and started climbing the ladder. She picked the camera back up and snapped several shots of him on the ladder and on the roof. She drove around the block. When she came back around to Jason’s house he was slinging that hammer like a pro. Britney snapped a couple shots of that and then drove off. Mission accomplished without anybody getting dead.

  As she rounded the corner her phone rang again. She picked up her cell phone, pressed the phone button and then said, “I left already. Nobody is dead, okay, Rita.” Her friend’s premonition almost cost her the money shot that she had been waiting two weeks to get. Britney had gotten scared when Jason looked at her car. She began to fear for her life, all because of what Rita had said. She needed to have a serious talk with her, and soon.

  “This isn’t Rita. It’s RaShawn.”

  Britney took the phone away from her ear and looked at the caller ID. RaShawn Thomas was a Morris Chestnut kind of fine bishop in Washington, D.C. who had once saved her life. She owed him big time. So far, all she’d been able to do was treat him to dinner once or twice a year. “What’s up, Bishop? Don’t tell me, you’re calling to weasel out of dinner, aren’t you?” Britney’s uncle Tony had asked her to join him for breakfast on Saturday. Since she had to be in Washington, Britney had invited her favorite bishop in the whole wide world to dinner.

  “Of course not, I want to have dinner with you very much,” RaShawn said.

  “That’s good. So, what’s going on?”

  He hesitated. “I-I have some bad news for you.”

  “Did all your pastors quit on you or something?” RaShawn presided over seventeen churches, including her uncle’s church. Tony Hartman was not happy to answer to a thirty-seven-year-old bishop. But, if he wanted to keep his church he had to roll with it. Britney found the whole situation amusing; thus her joke about all the pastors quitting.

  “It’s much worse than that, Britney. I just left your uncle’s house.” He hesitated again. “I really hate to tell you this, but I think your mother would rather get this news from you than from me.”

  Britney pulled up to a red light. “Will you just tell me what’s going on already?”

  “I’m so sorry, Britney, but Tony is dead.”

  A car horn honked behind her. Britney looked up and saw that the light had turned green. But for a moment she couldn’t seem to press the pedal. “What did you say?”

  The horn honked again.

  Britney drove off, but at the next block she pulled her car over to the side of the road.

  “Tony is dead, Britney. I found him lying on the floor in his home office.”

  “Good Lord, what happened?”

  “The police think he was poisoned. I’m really sorry to unload all of this on you. I should have called your mom, but I knew she wouldn’t want to speak to me.”

  “Don’t worry about it, RaShawn. Thank you for calling. I’ll let mom know.” As Britney hung up the phone she thought back to Rita’s words about seeing someone lying on the floor dead. Maybe that girl really was having premonitions. As much as Britney wanted Rita to be wrong, she knew that she would find no joy in being right. Not this time.

  Chapter Three

  RaShawn was having a hard time dealing with the death of Tony Hartman. As he sat in the church watching mourners pay their respects, all he could think was that it was his fault that Tony was dead. He wondered who was next, and if the police would really be able to stop this madman.

  The church was overflowing with people from all walks of life. Tony had been a very charismatic and respected minister. His Christian broadcast was viewed by hundreds of thousands. He and his ex-wife had even done a reality show which had been viewed by millions who gleefully tuned in each week to see the implosion of Tony and Carla Hartman’s twenty-year marriage.

  Carla had wanted nothing else to do with Tony after the divorce, which was the reason RaShawn chose to call Britney. He figured that she and her mother could sort out the rest of the people who needed to be contacted. But as he looked down at the front row and witnessed how Tony and Carla’s two teenage sons held on so tightly to their mother as she wept, he realized he’d made a mistake. He should have driven over to Carla’s home and told her the news in person.

  Carla had divorced Tony because she’d lost respect for him as a man of God and a husband, but that obviously hadn’t stopped her from holding love in her heart for the man who’d had countless affairs while married to her. His heart went out to Carla and every woman who’d ever married a man and expected happily-ever-after, but received heartache and tears instead.

  As he was leaving the grave yard, Judge Hartman and Britney, he greeted them with a hug and offered his condolences once again.

  Britney said, “Uncle Tony was a good man; I just don’t understand this at all. But I guarantee that I will find out who did this to him.”

  “Don’t waste your time on this investigation.” Judge Hartman pointed an accusatory finger at RaShawn as she said, “Just ask the good bishop here who he thinks is responsible for Tony’s death.”

  RaShawn was drained. He didn’t understand what God was doing or why any of this was happening on his watch. He understood that Judge Hartman blamed him, but he wasn’t in the mood for arguing the point. “I need to get home. I’ll talk to you all another time.”

  As RaShawn walked away from them he was wondering if he’d truly heard from God whe
n he took this job and was seriously thinking about resigning and letting someone else take over as bishop. Maybe his approach had been too heavy handed… who was he to judge whether anyone was fit to stand behind a pulpit or not?

  RaShawn was a grown man, well into his thirties, but after the day he’d just endured, he needed his stepmother and his father. So, he threw a few clothes in an overnight bag, hopped in his car and drove to Raleigh, NC.

  ***

  Carmella Marshall-Thomas was in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the dinner she was making to celebrate the fact that RaShawn was coming home for the weekend. Her husband’s youngest son had moved back to the states after spending years on the mission field. But his schedule was so busy that he didn’t make it home as much as Carmella would have liked. So, when he called and said that he was coming to see them, Carmella ran to the grocery store and was now throwing together a dinner party for her family. Joy and Renee still lived in Raleigh, so they were helping her with dinner.

  “Remember how you used to hate helping out in the kitchen,” Joy said as she nudged Renee. “You used to make me and Raven so mad.”

  “It took me a while to get used to you and Mama-Carmella. But I’m in here with you now. And besides, Jay loves all the recipes and tips I get from Mama-Carmella.”

  “Oh, so you’re just using us to keep your gorgeous husband’s stomach full?”

  Renee laughed. “Shut up, Joy. You’re just trying to project your sins on me. We all know you come here to get recipes from Mama-Carmella for your handsome husband. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve heard Lance brag about the veggie lasagna recipe that you got out of the same kitchen I got it from.”

  “Okay ladies, your brother is almost here so we don’t have time for fighting. Let’s just say that both of you steal my recipes, and I love it.” She hugged both her daughters and then said, “Now help me take all this food that you part-time chefs helped to create, to the dining room table.”

  Ronny had mended from his car accident, so he and his wife, Nia, were no longer staying with them. Carmella missed them like nobody’s business, but her children were all grown now, and she and Ramsey had to step back and let them live their lives. But she wasn’t complaining. They now had five grandchildren to spoil. She and Ramsey had just booked a five-night Disney cruise for the grands.

  Joy went to the cabinet and pulled out the best china that her mother always used when serving her family. It didn’t have to be Thanksgiving or Christmas, because Carmella was thankful to God for every chance she had to spend with her family. “I’ve got the plates,” Joy told them as she walked out of the kitchen.

  Renee opened the drawers and pulled out the heavy silverware. As she headed to the dining room, she told Carmella, “I know that you love your family. But if they come to my house for dinner, I’m giving these messy kids paper plates and plasticware.”

  “We only have one of the grandkids with us today, I think she can handle the china.” Carmella picked up the bowl of salad and rolls, and headed out to the table with them.

  “You want to give the grandkids china, fine. But I beg you, give RaShawn a paper plate. That boy is worse than the kids.”

  ***

  As RaShawn pulled up in his parents’ driveway, he leaned back in his seat as he pulled the key out of the ignition and breathed a sigh of relief. He was out of his element as bishop. Why he ever thought that he could make a difference was beyond his understanding. So far, all he’d managed to do was cause the deaths of three pastors within his ministry.

  “What are you doing sitting out in this car when we’re all in here waiting on you so we can eat dinner?” Ramsey asked his son as he held the front door open.

  This was home, this was where he could be himself. He wasn’t the bishop of twenty churches here, he was just RaShawn. And he was late for dinner. “I’m coming, Dad.”

  RaShawn got out of his car and went inside to greet his family. Once inside he spotted the dining table with its mounds and mounds of food. His stepmother never did anything halfway. But through the years she’d learned that cooking healthy food was better for her family, so the table was graced with baked chicken, salmon, asparagus, spinach and sweet potato home fries.

  “Why didn’t you all wait for me? I could have helped out in the kitchen, you know.” During RaShawn’s years on the mission field he’d learned to cook and didn’t mind showing off his culinary skills.

  “You had to drive all the way here. I didn’t want you to worry about fixing your own meal as well,” Carmella told him as she placed the last dish on the table. “Now, let’s eat.”

  The family sat down for food, conversation and good-natured fun. The Marshall-Thomas family truly enjoyed being around one another. If anything, Carmella and Ramsey could write a book on successful blended families. It was because their families were so well blended that Joy and Dontae thought of Ramsey’s kids as brothers and sisters, no “step” included.

  “”You did your thing on this meal. I’m full and still want seconds,” Jay said to his mother-in-law.

  “Hey,” Renee objected. “I helped out in the kitchen. How do you know I didn’t fix one of the items you’re oohing and aaahing over?”

  “No offense, hon, but you’ve never fixed sweet potatoes like this. I didn’t even know they could be made to taste just as good as an Idaho potato,” Jay said while gently placing a hand over his wife’s arm.

  Smiling, Renee told him, “I got the recipe, so you’ll be seeing those potatoes on our table soon enough, buster.”

  Joy pointed an accusatory finger at Renee. “See Mama, I told you she was only helping so that she could impress Jay with her culinary skills.”

  “Leave her alone, Joy. I already told you that both of you are welcome to any recipe that I have.”

  Renee stuck out her tongue at her sister and everyone at the table laughed… everyone except RaShawn, who had so much on his mind that he couldn’t even enjoy a moment of fun with his family.

  “What’s eating at you, son?” Carmella asked as everyone settled in the family room.

  Hanging his head, RaShawn apologized for bringing the mood down. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

  Renee sat down next to her brother and put her arm around him. “You have nothing to be sorry about. We should be apologizing to you. Here we are carrying on, joking about trivial things while you’re dealing with these horrible things happening to the preachers in your fellowship.”

  He waved off her concern as his shoulders slumped. “I don’t want to burden anyone with my problems. I just needed to get away from them so I can clear my head and figure out what I need to do.”

  “I hope you’re not blaming yourself for all of this craziness,” Joy said as she sat down on his right side and joined Renee in comforting her brother.

  “How can I not?” RaShawn shook his head like he was trying to shake the guilt away from his very presence. “Those men died because I exposed their sins. If I had just left them alone and not fired them, none of this would be happening.”

  Putting her hands on her hips in righteous indignation, Carmella stood up. “RaShawn Thomas, you can’t honestly be blaming yourself for the way those men lived their lives.” Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she added, “May God rest their souls because I pray that each one of them had time to repent of their sins. But I had stopped watching their TV ministries years ago. The Lord had revealed to me that they were no longer in the faith.”

  “You knew?” His stepmother’s godly wisdom amazed him. She always seemed to know when any of them needed prayer or a word of encouragement. Now she was telling them that she could even spot God frauds… that was what RaShawn called them. In general a God fraud was a preacher who didn’t live what he preached.

  Carmella nodded. “Believe it or not, God marks those who belong to Him. And those preachers had lost the glow that the anointing puts on every believer. They were still standing behind the pulpit and preaching to millions, but I
knew something had gone wrong, because I could see that they didn’t believe in what they preached anymore.”

  “So don’t you be down on yourself,” Ramsey told his son. “God calls each and every one of us to holiness. And if the preacher can’t live up to those standards, how in the world is he going to teach anyone else to live holy?”

  RaShawn knew what they were saying was true. In his head he knew that he hadn’t caused the deaths of those preachers, their shady living had ruined their relationships with God and man. But his heart was asking why he hadn’t just given them another chance.

  Standing up, RaShawn told the group, “I’m drained. Do you mind if I take my old room and lay down for a little while?”

  “Of course not. I put everything you need in there right after you called,” Carmella told him.

  “Thanks,” RaShawn said as he walked away from the group with his head down. When he reached his old room, he threw his bag on the dresser and then jumped in the bed, put his face in the pillow and prayed that sleep would come quickly so he wouldn’t have to think about the lives he’d destroyed with his live-right edict.

  Chapter Four

  RaShawn wanted to sleep so he could close his mind to the trauma he’d been dealing with. But all through the night images of the men whom he’d deemed unfit to stand behind a pulpit chased him while he tried to sleep. They were reaching out to him, begging him to help them. RaShawn screamed at Tony Hartman, “I can’t help you. You’re already dead.”

  “Then help me.”