Pastor Needs a Boo (13 page)

She had been praying and asking the Lord to do what folk always said He did—His best work when all you could do was stand. Just yesterday, Marsha had looked up at the sky and said, “Do me a solid as beautiful as this sky is, Lord. I'm tired, and You said You would never leave me nor forsake me. Those are Your Words, Lord—not mine. Help me, Lord. Show Yourself strong. Let folk know You are the Great I Am.”

Denzelle felt a quickening in his spirit and a strong nudge from the Lord to focus on Marsha. He thought the checks would lead into a lively discussion and convince the three women that their help and expertise was sorely needed by their pastor. But one look at baby girl let him know that he had to handle his business. Denzelle walked over to Marsha and took her hands in his. He said, “I'm your pastor. What has you all torn up like this?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, embarrassed by the tears and the almost uncontrollable urge to break down in sobs.

Denzelle touched her cheek softly.

“It's not, nothing,” he whispered so softly, Veronica and Keisha almost fell out of their chairs trying to get in on this conversation. It took all of Keisha's resolve to refrain from pulling out her phone and texting, Gurl, you betta get in here to see this, to Dayeesha, who was at her desk about to bust with curiosity.

“Honey, I've never seen you this upset. You didn't break down like this when Rodney left.”

Veronica and Keisha turned to each other and mouthed, “
Honey?
”

“It's—it's just that I was almost out of money,” Marsha said, wishing her nose would stop running. She hated it when snot ran all down in her mouth.

“I didn't know what to do. That mean IRS lady follows me all around the city. Denzelle,” Marsha continued, not even realizing that she'd called the pastor by his first name in a voice that sounded like they were boos.

“Do you know that she parks all outside of my house, watching me like some serial killer on
Criminal Minds
? And one day she came in my house and acted like I had stole something from her cousins. I've been praying for a breakthrough. I've been waiting on the Lord's help. And today you gave me this check, and not a moment too soon.”

Denzelle followed his uncontrollable urge to lean down and kiss Marsha on the cheek. The baby was really going through. He'd had some rough moments in his life, but he'd never had it that rough. He said, “It's going to get better. I know it doesn't feel like it will. But the Lord just touched my heart with so much joy and peace about your situation, Marsha. It's going to change.”

“Okay,” Marsha whispered, and wiped her face with the tissue Keisha had put in her hands.

“And,” Denzelle said, as he went to sit back down. “Girl, don't you ever do that again. You hear me,” He admonished.

“Do what, Denzelle?” Marsha said through a sniffle.

“Not tell me when your back is against the wall like that.”

“I … I…”

“I nothing,” he told her firmly. “You carrying all that around and I have plenty of money. I would have helped you out myself before I sat back and watched you suffer like this.”

Keisha and Veronica were really, real quiet now. This was getting good. They hoped Marsha and Denzelle would forget that they were in the room and keep talking like they had forgotten they were in the room.

“I couldn't ask you for money like that, Denzelle.”

“No, you couldn't,” he told her in a very firm voice that had “pastor” all over it. “I said that you better.”

I like a man who knows how to take charge. Know what I'm sayin'? Keisha sneaked and texted to Veronica.

Girl, I didn't know Rev had it going on like that, Veronica responded.

Me, neither, Keisha texted back, and then started flipping through her folder when she saw Denzelle looking over in her direction.

Veronica put her phone down and opened the folder, hoping Denzelle didn't know they were texting about him.

Marsha looked up at Denzelle and said, “Thank you.” She didn't know what to think about what Denzelle had told her. A part of her was overjoyed. Another part of her felt frustrated and heavy of heart.

Denzelle told her to make sure to contact him when she needed help. What about contacting him on help with the way she felt about him? What was she going to do with all of that? And why didn't he see that as a pressing need, too?

Marsha wondered how men could be so comfortable living in a state of deprivation. They walked around like their hearts were screaming for companionship. Then they retreated into isolation, when all they had to do was come out of that space. It was the most insane and stupidest phenomenon as far as Marsha was concerned. And sometimes she wished the Lord would roll up on them and give them a good lesson they'd never forget.

Denzelle patted Marsha's hand and smiled. He dared not say what he was thinking, which was “I will do anything for you, Baby.” Then Keisha and Veronica would really have something to text each other about.

Keisha saw Marsha watching her and Veronica and started flipping through her folder to try and make it look like she wasn't all up in her friend's business. She stared at the information, frowned, and then blurted out, “Reverend Flowers, really. This is about the Pastor's Aide Club? I need some money, but I ain't doing no old boring and stuck-up Pastor's Aide Club. That's jacked up. You know those clubs have all of the mean and stuck-up people at our church all up in them. Why are you bringing this mess back to life? Huh?”

“Pastor's Aide Club,” Veronica said with a frown. “Why in the world would we want to do anything like that? I don't like those things—bunch of mean church ladies trying to get in good with the pastor so they can be the boss of everybody.”

“I heard that,” Keisha said, and gave Veronica some dap.

Denzelle rolled his eyes. He knew they were going to balk at running a Pastor's Aide Club. But he didn't think they would try and clown a brother—especially when the brother was trying to help their unemployed selves. He looked at Marsha, who was going through her portfolio very carefully. She flipped the folder closed and sat back in her chair, obviously uncomfortable with what she'd just read.

Denzelle really didn't know what to do with that response. It had never occurred to him that Marsh might not want to work with him as closely as her responsibilities would call for. He said, “Sooooo … Marsha, is there something wrong with what's in your packet?”

“No, Denzelle,” she answered in a very quiet voice.

“But you look so uncomfortable. It's not that bad, is it?”

“Why didn't you tell us you were running for bishop at the next Triennial Conference?”

“He's what?” Veronica asked.

There had been rumors Denzelle would throw his hat in the ring for the bishop's race. But the Triennial Conference was a ways away, and he hadn't said anything as yet. Denzelle was a good pastor, and they all hoped that he would not get bitten by the “bishop bug” so many good pastors succumbed to.

There was a time in their denomination when it was expected that the best and brightest pastors would automatically run for bishop at some time in their career. But it was different now. Pastors like Denzelle who ran large churches that were financially sound, with large budgets and comprehensive programs, didn't necessarily need to leave their lucrative churches to run for an Episcopal post. They had a lot of influence already, including with their own bishops. It was a rare (and foolish) bishop who would risk causing problems for a pastor like Denzelle Flowers.

“He's going to run for bishop, and he wants me to put a special touch, or a unique style, to his campaign,” Marsha said, wishing she didn't feel so sad about Denzelle running for bishop. He was such a good pastor, and he would be a great bishop. But Marsha didn't want to lose her pastor. This was the second time she had to go through this with a pastor at New Jerusalem Gospel United Church.

“So, why do you need Veronica and me, if you have Marsha helping you style your campaign?” Keisha asked.

“Why don't you read what's in your folder and then tell me why I need you, Keisha,” Denzelle answered in a firm voice.

Keisha raised an eyebrow as if to say, It's like that, huh?

All Denzelle did was tilt his head to the side and shrug, as if to answer her with a, Yeah, it's definitely like that.

Keisha scanned the information in her folder and then started laughing. She said, “Pastor, you've got to be kidding. You want my butt to run the singles ministry at this church. I mean, do I look like somebody's running the singles ministry type of sister?”

“Yeah. You do, homey,” Veronica chimed in.

“Okay, so I am to bring all of the singles in the church together to do what—go together?”

“You know that is not what you are going to be doing,” Veronica said.

“Well, since you know so much about what I will and will not be doing as the head of the Go Together ministry, Missy, tell me what your butt gone be doing,” Keisha asked Veronica.

Veronica hurried to flip through her folder and scanned it real quickly. She frowned and blurted out, “Uhh, naw.”

“Uhh, naw what?” Keisha asked. Now that the shoe was on the other foot, Miss Perfect wasn't all down for the count.

Veronica said, “‘Uhh, naw.' I am not the one to run a jobs ministry for folk coming out of jail and prison. I mean, why not just put me in some mechanic man clothes, and then hire me to head the car repair ministry, so I can go and work on your new Audi, Denzelle?”

Marsha started laughing. Denzelle looked absolutely petrified at the mere thought of Veronica, with her prissy self, messing up under the hood of his sleek black Audi sedan.

Denzelle sighed. These three were a piece of work. He said, “Veronica, you need to take a chill pill. You can handle this assignment in your sleep. It's a PR type of position to help advertise our postprison ministry and get folks to help us out with job placements and fundraising.

“And Keisha, you are the only one in this church who can run the Singles Ministry. The folk who, to date, have volunteered to help with this ministry are lame, trying to find a slick way to be church hos, and they would turn it into a hot, boiling ghetto mess.”

“Like that big mess called a singles ministry run by your boy Reverend Larry Pristeen up in Asheville,” Keisha told him, and then started laughing. “I can't stand Larry Pristeen. He is so full of it and needs to be slapped for running around telling singles to learn to ‘bask in the glow of being alone.'”

“Then I should be glowing like I'm radioactive,” Veronica said.

“You know darn well I don't want anything remotely akin to that foolishness Pristeen is running,” Denzelle told them.

“Well, good for you, Pastor,” Keisha said. “You do know that Reverend Pristeen has a team of women from his church who run his Glowing for Jesus booths at annual conferences around the country. Bay Bowser was at one of those conferences helping with security, and he said those women were running around in pink T-shirts with the words ‘I'm glowing' up under a big-A picture of Larry Pristeen's face.”

Marsha started laughing and said, “Keisha, watch your mouth. We are in the pastor's office.”

Veronica was just shaking her head. That was some trifling mess, even for Larry Pristeen. She said, “I thought you all got the memo that Reverend Pristeen is a very slick undercover ho.”

“Girl, be quiet,” Keisha exclaimed. “That is really some news to me. 'Cause that joker don't have no game. Marsha got more game than Larry Pristeen.”

Marsha rolled her eyes at Keisha. So she didn't have game. Why did folks always have to have game? Denzelle had plenty of game, and all all of that game did was get him in trouble, and then made him act stupid and annoying.

“Well, game or no game,” Marsha said. “All I know is that Reverend Pristeen is running around lying about being happily single. There is no way that man is ‘happily single,' with the way he flirts with a woman every chance he gets.”

“He hasn't flirted with you, has he?” Denzelle asked, with a frown clouding up his face.

“Well, not really. He…”

“He what?” Denzelle snapped. “What did ‘he' do?”

“I don't know. Larry's not my type, so I wasn't paying any real attention to him when he was…”

“She may not have paid attention to Larry,” Veronica said, “but I sure was watching that sucker the last time our church went up to his church in Asheville. He was all up in Marsha's face, grinning and acting like she was a piece of red velvet cake. You didn't see all of that, Denzelle?”

He shook his head and said, “I don't remember seeing Larry flirting with anybody, come to think of it.”

“You don't?” Keisha asked, surprised. “Rev, he was flirting with several cute women that evening. You must have been super preoccupied with your sermon that day.”

“Nahh girl,” Veronica said. “That's not why Denzelle didn't see Larry flirting. Girl, Denzelle didn't know that wack mess Larry was doing was actually flirting.”

Denzelle frowned. He remembered how Larry kept putting his arm around Marsha's shoulder and heaping praise on her ‘Proverbs 31 woman' demeanor. He even remembered Larry talking crazy in his flat, low voice, saying some crap like, “Miss Marsha Metcalf, I love how glowing in the aftermath of being single suits you. I want you to fully embrace being completely alone and without the companionship of a man. Girl, I almost envy you for the way you make this look so easy and compelling.”

He couldn't believe he'd missed all of that. It didn't occur to Denzelle until now that what Larry was really saying to Marsha was, I want you in a state of isolation and loneliness. I want that state to be a bit extreme, so you will be overjoyed when I deign to pay you some scraps of attention. And I don't want you to know I'm getting my rocks off from watching you get all excited over these scraps I'm throwing your way. I don't even know if I want you. I just want to be able to make you think I want you—just in case.