“The usual.” Ezekiel frowned. “Heading up to see Pastor Gaines.”
“Not again, Jack! I thought we were done with that kind of behavior.” Garrett had been the boy’s teacher the prior year when Jack’s mother had passed away, and Garrett had dealt with much more than Ezekiel. Jack was a hot mess, and no one could blame him, nor could they get through to him.
“It was just a joke.” Jack slapped his hands back around his chest. “I can’t help it if no one can take a joke.”
“Tia didn’t find it funny.” Ezekiel raised an eyebrow. “And neither would you if some kid had tripped Ruby like that.”
“Nobody better!” Jack shot back.
Garrett ruffled the boy's hair. “You’re gonna have to do better, bub.” He looked back at Ezekiel with a go-easy-on-him expression.
Ezekiel gave him a nod. He felt for the boy, but there was only so much he could do when a kid was hurting others. There had to be some way to make him understand that hurting other kids wouldn't make his own pain go away.
When they reached the end of the corridor that led outside, Jack slowed his pace. Ezekiel took him gently by the shoulder. “Let’s get this over with, buddy.”
Ezekiel opened the door, and they took the short, covered sidewalk that led to the student entrance and right into the church office.
“Sure is hot out there!” Ezekiel called to Bonnie, the church secretary.
Bonnie looked up. “Good afternoon, Mr. Gaines. The weatherman says it’s going to reach a hundred and fifteen today.”
“Tell me again why we live here?” With a hand on Jack’s shoulder, Ezekiel led him to the desk.
Bonnie gave Jack a quick look then turned back to Ezekiel. “I wish I knew. Now that they raised the minimum wage to eleven dollars an hour, prices are going up so quickly that it’s hard to tell the difference anymore.”
“Don’t remind me. Is Pastor Gaines available?”
Bonnie shook her head slowly and turned to the glass-plated window surrounding his father’s office. Ezekiel followed her eyes until they landed on a woman sitting in a chair across from his father. From his view, Ezekiel got quite an eyeful. The woman had short, black hair. So black it was almost blue, and one entire side of it was shaved. A gold-colored nose ring hung down in a loop from her nostril, and a tattoo peeked out from the back of her skimpy, scarlet top. Daring a look lower, the woman’s tanned legs poked out from under a much too short, black skirt. Pulling his eyes away, he looked back at Bonnie.
“Wow, she’s hot!” Jack cried, his eyes bulging from his head.
Bonnie's eyes doubled in size as she covered her mouth. “Jackson Wilford!”
Ezekiel dragged Jack away from the window as the boy goosed his head around Ezekiel to get a second look.
“What’s going on in there?” Ezekiel asked as he motioned for Jack to take a seat out of the view of his father’s office.
“You know Pastor Gaines. Always willing to help a person in need.”
Ezekiel sat next to Jack with a sigh. “Looks like we have a bit of a wait, bud.”
Chapter 3 — Bekah
Bekah sat in front of the preacher, hoping her plan would work. Blade had bragged how he'd done it himself, and that it had worked like a charm. But trusting Blade for anything was not too great an idea. After all, he should be sitting in a jail cell by now, making friends with a big, hairy guy named Bubba.
But her options were limited at the moment, and it was the only idea that came to her. Blades' words came back to her. "All I did was pour on the drama, forced out a few tears, and I was out the door in half an hour with a room for the night, gas in my tank, and a hot meal." It had to work, or she'd be sleeping in her car, stranded in a town named after the boiling sun, and begging on the street corner.
As she sat across from the preacher, she kept her voice steady. “So, you see, sir. I was on my way through Arizona when my gas light came on. I pulled over at the nearest gas station to fill up, and before I knew it, a man came up from behind and grabbed my purse.” She let out a fake cry and dabbed at her eyes. “He took off with it. Everything I own was inside that purse. My bank card, my driver's license ... everything!” She poured out the down-on-her-luck story as thick as she could. “If I could just get enough money for a hotel for the night and gas in the morning, I’ll be on my way, and when I settle things with my bank, I could return the money to you.” That would never happen, and she almost felt sorry for deceiving the nice man — almost. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Bekah had never been more in need.
The preacher gave her a sympathetic smile as he reached into his top desk drawer. She held her breath, hoping her sob story had worked. He was about to go for something, but then he looked right past her, through the glass window.
Bekah leaned back and looked out to see what had caught his attention. A man about her age, wearing a three-piece, navy-blue suit and tie, sat in a seat outside the door. Next to him was a young boy with an angry frown on his face.
“Oh.” Pastor Gaines stood. “I’d like you to meet my son, Ezekiel.” Before she could decline, he stood and strolled around his desk and opened the door. “Ezekiel, I was just about to call you.”
Bekah shifted in her seat. She didn’t need to meet the guy’s entire family just to get a couple of bucks for food, gas, and lodging. Still, she’d do what she had to do. It was all part of playing the game.
The younger, fine looking man stepped inside the office, dragging the boy in behind him. Her first instinct was to check for a wedding ring. Not that she was looking. It was just a habit of hers.
Nope. No ring. Was the boy his?
She looked from one to the other and could not for the life of her see a connection. The man had short, wavy brown hair and warm brown eyes. The boy’s hair was almost blonde with blue eyes. Their facial features couldn’t have been more opposite, either. Where the man had distinct features with a solid chin, the boy’s was more rounded. What did she care, anyway? By morning she’d be out of town and never look back.
“Rebekah, this is Ezekiel. He’s my son and also a teacher at our school. Ezekiel, this is Rebekah.”
“Bekah,” she corrected. She hated her given name. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, uh, Bekah.” Ezekiel didn’t look her in the eyes. Instead, he kept his focus beyond her, on his father. She didn’t blame him. She must look a complete mess.
The boy, on the other hand, stared at her with his mouth wide open as if she were some kind of anomaly.
“Have a seat, Jack,” Ezekiel said as if noticing the same thing.
Jack sat in the seat against the back wall, and Ezekiel stepped in front of him as if guarding the boy’s eyes from seeing her.
“Ezekiel, why don’t you take this nice young lady home to your mother and ask her to prepare the guest bedroom. She needs a room for the night and a nice hot meal. That will give Jack and I time to chat.”
Bekah’s mouth flew open. There was no way she was spending the night with the do-gooding preacher and his family.
“Uh, sure, Dad.” Ezekiel gave her a quick look. “I’m sure Mom will be pleased to have the company.” His actions belied his words as he shuffled on his feet, his face set in rigid, uncompromising lines.
“You’ll love my wife’s cooking." Pastor Gaines didn't seem to notice his son's apprehension. "She’s the best cook in Sunshine!”
“Uh, well. I was thinking . . . I mean, I guess if it’s not imposing.” What else could she do? There was no way she was sleeping in her car in that hundred-degree heat. She’d die of dehydration before the night was over. She cursed Blade once again. Even from jail, the guy was getting her into sticky situations. "Easy as pie!" he'd said. Bekah would love to get her hands around the low life's neck right about now.
“Of course not. We’d love to have you. In the morning I’ll set you up with some work around the church, and you can earn a couple of dollars for gas money. That way you won’t have to worry about try
ing to repay it. It’ll be yours free and clear.”
Bekah gaped at the pastor before nodding a little too hard. “That would be great.” Can this get any worse?
All hope was not lost. They were sure to have something in that house she could hock for the extra cash. She’d be out of there before they woke up and be long gone before they ever realized what hit them.
“Good. Then it’s settled. And what do I owe the privilege of seeing this young man in my office again?" Pastor Gaines looked around Ezekiel and lowered his eyes at the boy. "Twice in one week, Jack?”
“He thought it would be funny to play a joke on Tia. Tripped her as she was coming down the aisle to turn in her math paper. Skinned her knee and tore her dress.”
“Aw, Jack.” The preacher frowned. “Looks like we're going to have to contact your father this time.”
“Why don't you have a seat in the lobby,” Ezekiel dismissed Bekah, still not looking her in the eyes. “I’ll just need a moment with my father, then I’ll take you to the house, and my mother will get you settled in.”
As Bekah passed the young boy, terror played on his face. She remembered that same fear. The boy would be in big trouble when he got home. Poor guy.
Chapter 4 — Ezekiel
Ezekiel watched as the girl strutted out of the room in her cherry-red heels, skirt shorter than a man’s imagination, cleavage bursting out over the top of her skimpy shirt, and her face smeared with black makeup that had not fared well during her apparent crying stint. He'd give her credit, though. He'd heard every word she'd said through the thin walls of his father's office. The woman had poured it on smoother than an actress in a daytime soap opera. Not that he watched that stuff.
Jack watched, too. Ezekiel frowned at him. Jack grinned and turned his head straight forward. He couldn’t blame the kid. The woman was putting her body on display, and Jack was an eleven-year-old who didn't know better than to gawk at her.
“I’ll be right with you,” Ezekiel closed the door behind her as she left the room. Then he turned to his father. “Are you serious, Dad?” He leaned across his father's desk. “Charity is one thing but that girl, she might just kill us all in the middle of the night.” He envisioned her with a knife in her hand, sneaking through the house in her blood-red lipstick and matching high heels. “You can’t trust every person who comes waltzing in here, asking for a hand-out.”
His father raised an eyebrow at him. “God brought her to us for a reason, Son. Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Are you looking at the same woman I’m seeing?” Ezekiel turned back to Jack, who was grinning wildly.
“She’s hot!” Jack said again. “She can stay at my place.”
“That will be enough out of you, young man.” Ezekiel gave Jack a stern look. “You’re in enough trouble already.”
Jack shrugged.
“Son, it is our duty to help the destitute. She has come to us for assistance, and I’ll not turn her away.”
Ezekiel wrung his hands together. “Good thing I have the garage apartment. I’m locking my doors tonight.”
His father let out a chuckle. “Have faith, Son. And hurry back with my lunch. I’m starved.”
“Right. And you can deal with Jack here.”
“Did you bring your lunch today, Jack?” His father looked at the boy.
“No, sir. I forgot again.”
“Have your mother pack one for Jack and Ruby as well.”
Ezekiel nodded. He might as well start packing a meal for them each day. It seemed they forgot their lunches more than they brought them. But Ezekiel had more significant worries at the moment with the woman waiting out in the lobby.
“I’ll be back soon, then.” Ezekiel left Jack to his father to deal with. He had a feeling that calling the boy’s dad would only make matters worse. Mr. Wilford was known for having a heavy hand. “Maybe you could wait to call Mr. Wilford a little later?”
His father nodded, and Jack let out a sigh of relief.
Out in the lobby, the woman sat cross-legged in the chair, making her skirt hike even higher, showing off way too much thigh, and now snapping a piece of gum in her mouth. Ezekiel glanced at Bonnie, who shook her head with a grin. She was enjoying this way too much.
“Come on. I’ll take you to the house. I’ve got to get back before lunch is over.” Ezekiel did his best not to look in her direction. His father had preached since he was a boy that a man’s eyes should never veer lower than a woman’s neckline if she were not his wife. It was a sign of respect, and Ezekiel had lived by it, but at the moment, he found it hard to not notice all the toned flesh protruding from her skimpy clothing.
As the woman popped up from her chair, she wriggled her skirt down and then pulled the wad of gum from her mouth. "Kill you in your sleep? Really, Zeke?" Reaching out, she stuck it on the tip of his nose and grinned “After you.”
Ezekiel’s face heated as he grabbed the gum from his nose, threw it into the trash can, and stormed out. She'd heard every word he'd spoken to his father. How had he not thought she would hear after listening in on her conversation through the paper-thin walls? Maybe he'd been a bit harsh, but seriously? How did she expect to come waltzing in looking like some kind of streetwalker, expecting them to blindly trust her to stay in their home? Fuming, he took a deep breath as he picked up his pace.
It wasn’t that he didn’t have compassion. He did. There had been many times when his father had taken a stranger or two into their home. It was just what he did. His father believed that no matter what, charity came first.
He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord.
Only this woman was running some kind of game, and Ezekiel wasn't about to trust her in his home.
Chapter 5 — Bekah
Bekah followed “Zeke” out of the church. Her feet were killing her, and he was walking so fast that she could hardly keep up with him. She should have known better than to wear heels that were not yet broken in.
Oh, yeah. That’s right. Again, thank you, Blade.
She’d had no choice in the matter. She’d been running to save herself from being questioned by the police. The last thing on her mind had been whether or not her shoes were comfortable.
It irked her that the guy would actually think she was some kind of serial killer. She hadn't asked them to stay in their home in the first place. It had been the last thing she'd expected, but she wasn't about to say no. She couldn't. She had no other place to go. She was officially homeless.
With each step, he was getting further and further away from her vehicle.
“Where are we going? Shouldn’t I take my car?” She glanced back to the parking lot, wishing she could jump into her car and leave.
The backs of her ankles burned as her pumps rubbed blisters on them, and she was dying to take them off.
Without turning, he called back, “We’re walking. We only live down the street.”
She raced up the sidewalk to keep up with him. Pulling her heels off one at a time, she thrust them at him. “Here - hold these.” She shoved them at him.
He took the pumps, a strange look coming to his face.
“What? You’ve never touched a girl’s shoes before?”
“One ... two ... three ...”
“What are you counting for? Are you ―” Heat registered on the soles of her feet, and she snatched the shoes from his hands. “You are a real ―”
“Tsk tsk.” Ezekiel wagged a finger, looking much too pleased with himself then he turned. “We’re almost there.”
Bekah hopped on one foot while trying to get her pump back onto the other. What was wrong with this place where the sidewalk was so hot you couldn’t take your shoes off? She finally got her other one on just in time for him to stop at a one-story, white house with a matching picket fence and detached garage.
Am I walking into an episode of Leave it to Beaver?
Ezekiel strolled up the sidewalk and onto the porch. Holding the door for her, he waved her inside. “
You may take your shoes off now if you like.”
Bekah rolled her eyes at him but then proceeded to take them off. Holding them in her hands, she looked around. The living room looked clean yet lived in. She noticed right away that something was missing. There was no television. Only a couple of tan couches, a small electric fireplace, and a row of bookshelves. Certainly nothing of value.
She followed behind him, checking out each area as she went. From what she could see, the house was adorned in worn, yet very well taken care of, furniture. The kitchen was the same thing. Very clean, yet outdated. Surely there had to be something in the place she could misappropriate to make some quick cash. Did the dinky town of Sunshine even have a pawn shop? Not likely.
There at the kitchen counter, stood an older lady with graying hair, wearing a flowered, loosely fitting dress with glasses hanging from a string around her neck, and a butter knife in her hand.
“We have a guest, Mom.”
“Oh, Ezekiel. You’re right on time.” His mother looked up with a kind smile. She sliced one of the sandwiches on the counter in front of her crossways and pulled a piece of plastic wrap from the roll. As if it were an everyday event to have strangers in her home, she looked at Bekah and smiled. “Welcome, dear.”
Bekah gave a shy wave, wishing she was anywhere but there.
The woman sliced the other sandwich without missing a beat, wrapped it up, and placed both of them into the awaiting brown paper sacks. She followed each with an apple then handed the bags to Zeke. “And who might this beautiful young lady be?”
Bekah couldn’t help the feeling growing inside of her that she might have just stepped into a trap of her own. This family was way too perfect to be real.
“Mom, this is Rebekah. She’s going to be staying the night.” Ezekiel gave Bekah a look as if to warn her that she better be gone by morning.
“Fine, dear. Bring your father his lunch. I’m sure he’s starving by now.” She handed her son one of the brown paper bags. “And this one's for you, dear.” She held out the other. “Just as you like it. No mustard, extra cheese.”
The Act of Falling Page 2