Pastor Needs a Boo (48 page)

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Authors: Michele Andrea Bowen

BOOK: Pastor Needs a Boo
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Sharon waved back and hurried over to where Lena and Marsha were standing. She was a beautiful woman—tall, chocolate, shapely, and with the loveliest smile. She looked just like her father.

“Hey, girl,” Sharon said to Lena, and gave her a hug. She looked down at Marsha and started grinning.

“See, I told you that boy would come to his senses the last time I was at your church, and you were walking around wondering if he ‘liked' you. I was like, ‘like you?' That Denzelle liked you so much, Marsha, he had to pray to keep from jumping your bones.”

“You are wrong, Pastor,” Marsha said, remembering how well Sharon had called that one.

“Nahh, I'm right. That boy always looked like he wanted to snatch you up and run off to the hotel. 'Cause Denzelle look like he got some freak in him,” Sharon said, cracking up with laughter.

“I cannot believe you just went there, Reverend,” Marsha told her.

“Well, I did,” Sharon said. “Nothing wrong with a good man with a lil' bit of freak in 'em. Makes for a good marriage. Don't 'nam nobody wanna be stuck with a boring stick-in-the mud like that Reverend Larry Pristeen.”

Sharon shook her head, rolled her eyes, and then sucked on her teeth. She snapped her neck around and said, “Y'all, I can't stand Larry Pristeen. He is always flirting, but he doesn't want any woman who will require him to date her openly. You do know he has women all over the country in all of those places he preaches.”

“Sharon, you are lying,” Lena said. “Pristeen is so stiff and prim. How is that joker pulling women?”

“Like that,” was all Sharon said, and pointed to a corner where Larry was grinning all over some cute woman who was acting like she'd won the lottery because Reverend Larry Pristeen had “chosen” her.

“Watch him work it.”

“We can't see enough from here,” Marsha said, and signaled for them to follow her over to where Larry was standing with the woman.

They got close enough to hear Larry's business but not close enough to be detected. Larry Pristeen was in his element. He was surrounded by preachers and a bunch of women who had crushes on him.

“Watch him work it,” Sharon said.

Larry smiled down at the woman, who was one of the newly ordained preachers in Chapel Hill. He said, “You have a gift, my dear. The way you roll your tongue around words during a sermon has the potential to make a man feel good.”

“See,” Sharon whispered. “He just hit on her.”

“How?” Marsha asked, clueless.

Lena rolled her eyes and popped Marsha on the back of her head. She said, “Girl, listen to what he just said. ‘The way you roll your tongue around.' He is not talking about words in a sermon. He is talking about her rolling her tongue around something she doesn't need to be rolling her tongue around—at least, not on his trifling butt.”

“And get this. That girl can't preach her way through a puddle of water,” Sharon added. “She is actually okay and decent. But she can't preach. She put Dad to sleep. He was snoring, and I had to act like he had asthma or something.

“Uncle Eddie was playing a game on his iPad during her sermon. Okay? So, she didn't say anything that would make a man feel anything—unless he is Larry Pristeen trying to sneak and get some action.”

“Shhh,” Lena admonished. “He's going in for the kill.”

Larry smiled into the young preacher's eyes and said, “Girl, I want to hug you. You have fire in you, and I want that fire to rub off on me.”

He reached out and hugged her. But the preacher gave Larry a chaste, side-church hug.

Sharon was cracking up. She knew Larry Pristeen was not going to let the naive, starstruck preacher get off so easily. He said, “That is not the kind of hug I want from you, my dear. Here, let me position you correctly, so I can get a more desirable hug. Now, stand here like this, and let's see how this works.”

To her credit, the new preacher looked uncomfortable and was about to pull back. But she changed her mind when she noticed a few other women with crushes on Reverend Pristeen standing around. So she let him maneuver her and set her up for that hug. Larry said, “Now, I am going to walk up to you and grab your shoulders, and I want you to lean in close to me, so I can feel this hug correctly. Are you ready?”

Lena looked at Sharon and said, “Is he really going to get away with that jacked-up game? I'm insulted for her.”

“Keep watching,” Sharon told her.

Larry Pristeen got all up on the woman, hugged her, and then drew back quickly like he wanted to make sure he remained chaste and appropriate in his behavior.

The preacher looked confused, and then disappointed, and then kind of mad. She had been hoping for more than this. She was about to walk off when Larry, who knew exactly what he was doing, grabbed her arm gently and pulled her back closer to him.

“How am I to get another and better hug from you if you walk away, my dear? Stand there, so I can give this second hug a better try.”

The preacher stood there, hoping it was not in vain. And it wasn't. This time, Larry leaned in closer and whispered, “I need you,” in her ear.

“Did he just whisper in that girl's ear,” Marsha said, trying to read his lips. “Ooooo, she just put a key card in his hand. What is he going to do with that room card?”

“Ask her to roll her tongue around a ‘word,'” Sharon said, laughing.

“I wish Dad would put Larry in his place. But all Dad does is tell me to behave and stay out of it. He said that Pristeen will have his day in court.”

Sharon's father looked over at her with her girls, clearly in Reverend Pristeen's business. He pulled out his phone and texted,
Behave. And I need you back over here. Ask Lena where Denzelle is. I see Obadiah. But no Denzelle.

Sharon said, “Gotta go. Duty and my daddy calling. Oh, Marsha, didn't Denzelle come over here with Obadiah? Dad is looking for him.”

“He did come with Obie,” she said, concerned. She pulled out her phone to call her husband. Denzelle answered on the first ring.

“Baby, Bishop Simmons is looking for you. This meeting is about to start and they need you.”

“Can't, Honey. At the hospital with Todd.”

“As in Todd Townsend, Todd?”

“Yeah. He almost died. Massive heart attack. Only reason he is alive is because he prayed and trusted the Lord. The doctors said Todd is a walking miracle.”

“How did you find this out, Denzelle? You were on your way here, and now you're at Duke Hospital?”

“Todd was able to call my number. Where was Tatiana when this happened?”

“I don't know where she was then,” Marsha said, looking across the room. “But where she is now is walking around the Raleigh Hilton hanging on to Luther Howard's arm.”

“That's not a good sign,” Denzelle said in disgust. He could not believe Tatiana was now with Luther Howard. A woman could get killed messing around with a man like Luther Howard.

“Is Todd going to be alright?” Marsha asked.

“Yes. And Honey, don't tell Tatiana anything about Todd. She doesn't need to know he survived that heart attack. I have a bad feeling about her and what happened to him. Don't want to tip her off.”

“Okay,” Marsha said. She was going to follow her husband's directives—especially since he was talking in his FBI voice.

“Everything okay?” Lena asked.

“Todd Townsend had a massive heart attack. He managed to call Denzelle. They are at Duke, and he'll be okay. But Denzelle doesn't want me to tell Tatiana anything about her husband.”

Lena pulled out her phone. “I'll text Obie and tell him to give Bishops Simmons and Tate the 411.”

“Thanks, Lena,” Marsha told her. Todd Townsend having a massive heart attack. Strange. But then, Todd was married to Tatiana. That was enough to drive a man crazy and send him into cardiac arrest. She was so glad her baby got divorced from that she-devil when he did.

Lena looked across the room to where Tatiana was standing, her arm looped through Luther Howard's and holding court with Xavier Franklin and a few younger preachers who wanted to get in Xavier's good graces. Xavier's wife, Camille, was standing off to the side eyeballing Tatiana like she wanted to kill her.

The bishops took their seats at the large podium up on the platform that had been constructed for this meeting. They were an interesting bunch. Some were good bishops and helped keep the denomination on track. Some were mediocre—didn't do too much wrong but never did enough right to make a real difference. And some were just bad news—would do whatever they wanted to do to get money and power. Some of the Gospel United Church's worst problems and biggest scandals had come about as a result of those bishops, or bishops like them.

The senior bishop, Theophilus Simmons, stood up at the main podium and said, “This meeting has come to order. Let us bow our heads and honor the Lord with an opening prayer.”

He waited until the room was quiet and he had the attention of most of the folk in it before praying: “Lord, we are gathered here to discuss and make key decisions about who should run for bishop, and be able to run this great denomination. We know You know what is best for us. And we seek Your guidance, so that we will do what is right in Your sight. Thank You, Lord, for being in our midst. Holy Spirit, You are welcome in this place. In Jesus Name we pray, Amen.

“Now,” Theophilus began in a quiet voice. He was not happy about this meeting, and hoped he'd be able to keep his cool once this thing was off and poppin'. What was being proposed was not going to do anything but create a big mess. And even worse, this meeting had been called to make it possible to create the mess. When would his church learn that mess like this was always doomed to fail?

“Bishops Washington, Caruthers, and Jefferson, along with Reverend Marcel Brown and Reverend Xavier Franklin, have asked that we come together to discuss policies and criteria for those running or seeking to run for an Episcopal office at the next Triennial Conference. There have been concerns that the reason we have had problems in the ranks is because we do not have the right kind of policies in place to govern properly. They have proposed we make changes concerning who can run for bishop and hold an Episcopal office so that the office of bishop remains sacred and the wrong kind of people cannot get voted in.”

Theophilus stopped and frowned. He hated it when folks got all up in some wrong in the church, and then tried to run and hide behind rules and policies. The only reason they had come up with this foolishness was to find a way to get rid of the competition for this bishop's race, in an attempt to make it free and clear for Xavier Franklin to roll up in that spot by a landslide. But he was determined that it wouldn't happen on his watch.

One would think they'd get tired of always coming up with some mammy-made mess, creating all kinds of mayhem, and then always losing—sometimes losing badly. But nothing deterred them—not arrests, losing money, losing churches—nothing. Every time it was time to get ready for the next Triennial Conference, Marcel Brown, Sonny Washington, and a duly appointed crony were right there to make it hard for them to be about the business of the church of the living God.

 

Chapter Thirty-nine

Theophilus signaled for Obadiah Quincey to come up front and join him and Bishop Eddie Tate at the podium. He kept searching the conference room for Denzelle Flowers but the brother had yet to arrive. He leaned down and whispered to Obadiah.

“Where is Flowers? I can't fight this battle without him being here to speak against this petition.”

Obadiah showed Theophilus one of the texts from Lena about Denzelle. He then texted,
D, how fast can you get here? We're about to start the meeting, and Bishop needs you.

Denzelle called Obadiah. He didn't have the time or desire to send a text. Sometimes texts were good. But then there were times when the only thing that worked was a phone call and a voice on the other end of the phone.

Obadiah answered his phone and told Denzelle, “Hold on a minute,” and said, “I need to take this, Bishop,” to Theophilus, and walked to a quiet spot to get the 411. Both Lena and Denzelle had been sending him multiple text messages about what had happened to Todd, giving him frequent updates about the good doctor's status.

“Obie,” Denzelle said. “I need some more time with Todd. Tell Bishop to let the opposition talk and run their mouths.”

“But D, what if they rush through the vote and vote against your interests for running for bishop?”

“Obie, I'm telling you. God is pulling on me to handle business this way. I am willing to go in whatever direction the Lord takes me in, even if it means that I am disqualified from running for bishop. I have perfect peace about this thing. You feelin' me, man?”

“Yeah. And I got your back, D. You have some information about what happened to Todd?”

“Obie, I have the full-blown 411. Todd is awake. They tried to keep him sedated, but he said that he needed to talk to me first. The brother said he couldn't rest until he told me as much as he could.

“Tatiana is having a hot affair with Xavier Franklin. Todd has had a private detective watching her for a long time. He put her out. But get this. We both just found out Tatiana is also sleeping with Luther Howard.”

“As in ‘the mafia defense kang' Luther Howard, Luther Howard?”

“Yeah,” Denzelle said. “Todd's private detective followed Tatiana last night, thinking he was going to get more dirt on Tatiana's affair with Xavier. Poor man got an eyeful. Tatiana was with Xavier, and then polished off the evening with Luther.”

“Daaaannnngggg! Baby girl be getting around, D.”

“Obie, I didn't know Miss Thang had it going on like that. But get this. Todd told me that when he fell out with his heart attack, Tatiana was watching him to make sure he was dying. He played dead, and then managed to call me. Right now, I could get the police to put out a warrant for her arrest for negligent homicide.”

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