Marked Souls

by Adrienna Turner

  He was sitting in his favorite easy chair, watching television with the sound off and gospel music playing when Pammie walked through the door and tossed her key at the hallway hook. It caught. He jumped up to greet her, and she put her nose in the air, speeding past him and slamming the bedroom door when she made it upstairs.

  “Lord, we’re right back to where we were before I left for Philly, What is going on?”

  He quietly hopped up the stairs on his tiptoes. He fidgeted with the locked door, until he heard a click, and opened it. His wife was in the bed, crying.

  “Pammie? What happened, honey?”

  She whirled around, and lifted her hand to swipe away the tears. He saw an odd mark on her right hand.

  “What did they do to you, sweetheart? Were you injured? Are you sick?”

  Pammie looked at him with a haunted look in her eyes. She spoke to him in a robotic tone, as if her soul had been stolen from her.

  “Let me see, honey,” he said, reaching for her hand. He turned it over, and looked closely at the slit. A lump was under the slit,

  He remembered hearing a sermon once from Solomon Whitmore, his producer and mentor, when he went to Fort Lauderdale, Florida to hear him preach before a concert performance in Miami. He briefly spoke about keeping the flames in your marriage, on how to keep the passion and love alive for married couples. During the plane ride leaving Miami, Solomon took Jaizon aside near the bathrooms of the private jet to speak to him more on the insertion of the microchip in one’s hand. He could hear his voice, in his mind, as if the was there with him again, “…Right hand, some took it in the left hand for easy reading to be scanned on devices used at local stores, gas stations, to just swipe their hands across or underneath the machines. Other places would use the scanning gun. Don’t take the mark of the beast—the chip. They’ll fool you to taking it. Be strong. Stay in your Word. Seek His truth.”

  Jaizon had a slight flashback of what the microchip looked like, seeing actual pictures of the image, and how it was inserted in the hand. When he saw this picture in his head, he realized it was now in his wife’s hand.

  Jaizon screamed, “What have you done! Please tell me you haven’t inserted such a device in your hand…what have you done, Pammie?”

  “Let go of my hand! What the hell is wrong with you!”

  “Have you lost your mind?” He yelled in anger.

  “What are you talking about? I thought you’d be pleased to find out that I’ve learned much from the Messiah.”

  “Messiah?” He reached for her hand. “Jesus Christ wouldn’t have you insert such a thing in your body!” He turned his back to her. “My boy, Solomon, warned me. Not to take the mark. And the woman I love did just that!” He yelled as he threw his hands in the air.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jaizon.” She touched his shoulder. “I wanted to share this with you. I got two.”

  “Two of what?” He turned to face her.

  “But you’re pulling on my hand like some jerk. What’s wrong with you!”

  “You have so much nerve to ask me what’s wrong with me!” he yelled as he pointed at himself. “For one thing, I walk in our home and see this house a mess! I should be asking you, what the heck is wrong with you!”

  “Stop right there!” She held her hand up.

  “You left this house in total chaos! I thought someone had broken in the house looking for the safe!”

  “Stop with the jokes.” She snapped.

  “Dishes stacked in the sink with crud, mold, and...”

  “Stop with all the dramatics! You’re sounding like a—”

  “Quit treating your husband like a complete stranger. Me…you hear me, Me…your husband!” He patted on his chest hard and made pounding thumps.

  She turned her head in disgust, saying, “Huh…here you go! That’s why I walked past you in the first place. I didn’t want to hear all this blah-blah-blah. Are you done already?” She fanned herself as if the room was heating up.

  He knew, in his heart, that she had made her choice, he felt like he was in the Garden of Eden as Adam and she was Eve, about to eat of the fruit of the tree…would he take a bite and fall for the same eternal death?

  He spoke abruptly, “Instead you preferred to run up the stairs like a scaredy cat and close yourself behind the doors instead of facing me.”

  “I hear you.” She said.

  “I must've lost my mind to marry you in the first place.”

  “Whatcha mean by that?” She blew up.

  “I was changing my life for the better and you only wanted the better through my pockets, not me. Ching Ching.” He shook his hand as if he was holding a bag of 30 gold coins in a small sack. “Now I see this mark on your hand. You must’ve bled when you tried to insert this in your hand yourself. This is why I see this scar on your hand. Don’t lie to me; you must have inserted a microchip in your hand. Where’s the box!”

  “Why you want to do it with me! I got the box for you too,” She raced to the other box on the nightstand near the bed.

  “They sent you through the mail?”

  “Yesssss.”

  “What lies did they minister to you?”

  “The truth. No lies.”

  He boiled inside. “Why haven’t you been answering my calls or texts!”

  Pammie bellowed, “I don’t know what’s wrong with you.”

  “What you did—is wrong! That’s what’s wrong with me.”

  “Hold up.” She raised her hand in front of him. “You wanted me to know God.”

  “Not this god, I didn’t.”

  “Now I’ve seen him on TV and ordered the package to get to know him better.”

  “What!”

  “We’re in the technological age! I heard his sermons on MP3 on Ipod, and after hearing his teachings, I was convinced to insert this in our body to be more like God.” She opened the box, holding the chip in her hand, hoping he’d take it. “Imagine that, we’re in God’s image and we’re gods too.”

  “Are you kidding me with this…” His blood boiled hot and sweated like a hog on a roaster.

  “I wanted to share all this with you.” Pammie held it closer. “Oh, I’ve been getting calls left and right from the modeling agencies…just didn’t have time to clean, just eat and get dressed, and thought I’d get to it before you got home. I’m sorry I left you to do it, babe.” She sincerely apologized and rambled about the house not being cleaned which made Jaizon shake his head in disbelief.

  “So am I!” Jaizon wept as he fell to his knees once he acknowledged that his wife submitted and surrendered to the wrong god.

  Pammie brought the box to him, and handed it to him.

  “Please babe. You won’t regret this. Join me.” She begged him to find God and enjoy the benefits with her.

  Jaizon refused. He threw the box down. He tried explained to her what this mark really represented, but it was too late.

  “You have no idea what you just did. Damned for life.”

  She refused to listen and stuck her fingers in her ears. “I can’t hear you!” Idle voices were all she heard, the voice of the enemy, in which filled her soul. She wouldn’t seek the truth, she only believed the truth that came from the serpent which was once in the Garden of Eden and took the possession of the earth under his whelm.

  He raced to pack his clothes and sentimental items in his five suitcases and hand bag. He’d later come back for the rest of his things. He contacted a moving van that would come next week to get the remaining of his things.

  “I see you’re leaving…” Pammie stood at the door.

  “Yep. I’ll give you what you want…and file for a divorce.” Jaizon figured he’d leave Pamela the house. He couldn’t believe how she was. He wished he would’ve shared the truth of God’s Word with her sooner. She only heard what she wanted to hear, selective hearing, and took everything he tried to express to her in her own will…seeking after a false Messiah.

  Weeks passed, the divo
rce was finalized and he kept his assets. She kept the home and a monthly alimony.

  Jaizon called an old friend and former singer he knew, Sondrea.

  “Sondrea, I divorced my wife, Pammie.”

  “I heard.”

  “How?”

  “It was on a reality show. Riches for Life Empowerment TV.”

  “You actually watch that?”

  “Yeah, boy. My nephews were on that program, duh.”

  “Right.”

  “I also saw your performance. Not to change the subject, it was fiyah.”

  “Fire. Thanks. I guess.”

  “So, what brings you to call me, homey?”

  “I gave Pamela the house. Half of my assets. Alimony.”

  “She got all that. Okay. And, what’s up?”

  “I need to get away. I need a spot to chill.”

  “On the low, huh?”

  “Yes, Son.” He shortened her name.

  “I got a spot. You can rent out my home, since I plan to marry Bernard, and move into his place.”

  “You’d do that for me? Would he be cool with that?” He blurted, “Did I even meet this dude? Will I be at the wedding, am I invited?”

  “Chill man. Sure, you can sing at my wedding. You can meet him.” She offered.

  “Okay, shoot me the address. Can I come by soon?”

  “Yep. I’ll have my movers get my clothes and personal things out of the home. I’ll keep it furnished though.”

  “Thanks again. You’re like fam.”

  “I got you!” She laughed.

  “You sure do.” He smiled.

  He moved in within a week. Not realizing that he’d been reported by Pammie as refusing to fall into their plans, he did his best to make sure the Task Force didn’t follow him, or trace him to the rental

  He was blessed to download and listen to Solomon’s sermons while on the road. He shed a tear, wishing he’d sent them to Pammie. She’d wavered and found the false Messiah instead. When he unpacked and settled in, he stared at the final divorce papers, and shed a tear on her name: Pamela A. Righteous-Golden.

  He couldn’t wait to meet Sondrea’s fiancé. He had no clue that the church he’d sung at a few months’ prior was a hotbed of converts to the World’s messiah.

  CHAPTER 13

  Deception at its Best

  Unknown Location

  Les Blanche

  Les reviewed the reports, recordings, and messages sent in response to the sermon competition. The reports were unsettling. His anger raged within. He felt the men on the mission were incompetent because they failed to capture the twin sons of Solomon and Roya Whitmore. He wandered around his desk and muttered furiously, “Tavon. Javon. They were within our reach! How could they possibly have failed?” He clutched his hands.

  One of his agents stepped in the office.

  “What gave you permission to enter my office?” Les yelled.

  The man shook, clearly nervous. His soaked armpits were obvious, even though he wore black battle gear. His forehead glistened with sweat beads and a few ran down the sides of his hairline and past his temples.

  “Speak up!” Les demanded.

  “Sir.” The man stuttered and stood at attention.

  “Speak!”

  “The men have caught the agent who failed us.”

  Les glared at him, walking up to stand nose to nose. “Us? He failed the mission!” he screamed.

  Terrified, the agent answered with a shaky voice, “Correct, Sir.”

  “What are you waiting for? Bring him in.”

  The agent backed up and opened the door. He waved, beckoning the men waiting outside with their prisoner.

  “Ha. You’re the one who held onto the wild child, Joy, and came this close to a hostage situation.”

  The captive’s chin lowered to his upper chest. He sighed heavily.

  “Cat got your tongue? I’m not a bit surprised you won’t speak!” Les rose from his seat and stood. “I saw the footage.”

  The man wasn’t brave enough to look at Les.

  In a flash, Les drew closer to lift his chin forcefully. He splashed a mouthful of spit into the man’s face

  “You proved incompetent. Training was wasted upon you. You’re useless to this mission.”

  “Sir. Let me explain.”

  “Oh, now he speaks. Do you two have anything to add?” Les’ eyes seemed to throw darts at all of them.

  The men’s eyes didn’t even blink.

  “I saw it with my own two eyes,” He flashed two fingers back and forth between his eyes and his captive. “Idiot. You let go of Joy!”

  “But I…I…” He stuttered.

  “All on the wings of a prayer! Then you dropped the gun. That bullet should’ve hit ROYA!”

  “She—she—she…” He stuttered. “Should’ve been…dead.”

  “Dead as a doornail.” Les slapped his hands together. “Where’s her corpse? Oh, I forgot,” He snapped his finger, “she’s still a living, breathing, THREAT!”

  “What can I say?”

  “Nothing!”

  “There was a higher power present.” The agent attested.

  Les silently glared at the man until he could no longer contain his anger. “Higher power. Can someone explain to me how two of our men just dropped dead?” Les’ voice rose and vibrations rang in the air. The men winced as they covered their ears to minimize the pain.

  “Can you hear that!” Les stated. “Why are you men wasting my time?” He blew up, ready to pound on their heads.

  The phone interrupted his tirade.

  “Hello.” Les responded after his private line rang.

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  “B?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What you got for me?” Les asked. He waved the men out of his office. He pressed the mute button, pointed at the captive, and said, “Handle him.” He sliced his neck with his finger.

  “Who am I speaking with?” Bernard inquired.

  Les unmuted the phone. “The one and only, your chief commander, Les.” He paused for a brief second. “Who did you think you were speaking with? You called me!” Les’ voice dripped with anger.

  “This is the Task Force Special Ops hotline, and I was calling anonymous, but you called me B like you knew me,” Bernard answered.

  “I do. Now get on with it!”

  “Have we met?” Bernard’s voice betrayed fear as he realized that his trust in anonymity was misplaced.

  “Maybe.”

  “I would’ve remembered.”

  “Will you get on with it! What do you have?” His voice rose as if the frequency vibrated.

  “Sondrea has allowed the famous singer Jaizon to move in.”

  “That’s been tracked already. Anything else?”

  “How did you—”

  “We’ve got ways,” Les interrupted. “Pamela A. Righteous Golden has formally divorced Jaizon under irreconcilable differences. Got that.”

  “Is she the model?”

  “Correct.”

  “Whoa, I would’ve never divorced that fine…”

  “I’ve heard enough. Unless you have something to add to that information, you are toying with my time. Mister. Bernard. Morgan. Who also goes by the aliases: Kid, Big B, and I prefer to just call you B.”

  “Okay, man. Ease back. Chill. Relax,” Bernard whooshed.

  Les started his metronome. “Time is ticking.” He loved the fear the ticking sound instilled in the recipient on the other line. He evidenced a leering smile as he thought of the shivering responses he got.

  “Pam did take the chip?” Bernard changed the subject.

  “You called me for GOSSIP?” Les hollered. He felt tension coming on, and could imagine wringing this guy’s neck.

  “Just asking…I heard…I believe she did.”

  “Listen, I don’t have time for games.”

  “Les. Man. No one is playing games. That’s for kids,” Bernard hammered.

  “You called the line,
right.” His eyebrows furrowed. “You’re connected to the head—the man in charge.”

  “Pretty much, got that!” Bernard sighed.

  “You were put there to infiltrate that family. Have you worked on Sondrea, yet?”

  “Pam failed. Jaizon didn’t take the chip,” Bernard sounded convinced.

  “And how did you get that precious bit of information? Not your job, knucklehead,” Les said with derision.

  “My fiancée doesn’t know I have cams in her home, guest home, and car,” Bernard replied proudly.

  Les smiled. “Great job. Go on.”

  “I overheard it when Jaizon did a walk-thru, shared it with Sondrea, and saved it for you, and my ‘insurance policy’, in case we need it against him,” Bernard admitted.

  “Good to know, but again, are you convincing Sondrea to take the chip?”

  “She trusts me, it might take a little time, since she also trusts her family.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, after church, she went chasing after Roya with her family, so naturally…”

  “I know about that, too.”

  “If you knew, why did she get away?”

  “Need to know, Bernard. We don’t tell everything,” Les fumed inside. He knew that Roya slipping out of his hands had created a huge blank spot in his technological net. Where was she during those three hours? Damned American freedoms. We won’t win until all the Christians are eliminated—or trapped by the chip!

  “She’s in love with me.”

  “And?”

  “Marriage is next. She’ll be convinced by then,” Bernard sounded sure of himself.

  “After all that’s happened…she’ll still marry you?” Les pondered.

  “We’ve got a marriage certificate to be signed. She’s met with her attorney to secure her assets.” Bernard ranted.

  “I already got an alert that she met at the law firm to secure her royalty checks even after Whitmore’s death through Whitmore Productions.”

  “Thanks for reminding me…are you also aware that her half sis works there?” He clicked his finger as if he was thinking of her name.