RECKLESS — Bad Boy Criminal Romance (18 page)

“And, even scarier, is that this affects your family and could even destroy it!

“I feel tremendous grief when homosexuality tears apart fathers and sons.  A young man will ‘come out’ and, as a result, destroy his relationship with his father.  I mourn when I hear about a mother who ceases to speak with her lesbian daughter.  I’ve had many parents come to me and say, ‘Pastor, it would have been easier to have lost my child to death than to homosexuality.’  The Homosexual Conspiracy cannot be allowed to devastate families in this way by pushing their lifestyle on our society.

“If you know any practicing homosexuals, I urge you not to shun them.  But instead invite them here to church.  Because, I believe, in time, the Holy Spirit will take hold of them and help them transform their lives.  And to anyone here today who practices homosexuality, or who struggles with same-sex attraction, I have a message for you: Your Lord Jesus Christ wants to save you and cleanse you of your sins.  Many of those in the homosexual lifestyle are so blinded by their sin that they don’t realize there’s a way out.  Some of you may think your urge to sin is too great.  But remember what Luke 1:37 says: ‘For with God, nothing will be impossible.’

“Here at Pinnacle Christian we have a ministry that helps release those shackled by the bondage of the gay lifestyle.  It’s a twelve-week program that meets on Tuesdays and Saturdays.  It ends with a three-day weekend retreat in which participants finish their transformation into total heterosexuality.  The price is very reasonable, especially considering the incredible lifelong change that it produces.  You and your family are worth it.  If you struggle with homosexuality, this program can enable you to live a life pleasing to God.

“Let me tell you another story.  One day there was a knock on my office door.  It was a man from our congregation.  I welcomed him in, asked him to sit down and tell me what was on his mind.  He confessed to me that he had warred with same-sex attraction for as long as he could remember.  Since middle school, he said, he had felt a sexual attraction to other males.  In high school he went to church, prayed hard, purified his mind, and had a couple girlfriends.  But in college, due to the liberal education being pushed on him, he began smoking methamphetamine and embraced his homosexual feelings and dated a few men.  This lifestyle left him empty and he felt terrible, he said.  Post-college he repented and started going to church again.  Through God’s grace he met a good woman at his job and they married.

“At the time we spoke, they had been married twelve years and had three children.  Yet still, he told me the lure of homosexuality was strong in him.  Lately, it had gotten worse than ever.  He hadn’t had sex with his wife in five months and she complained to him about the lack of intimacy.  For the past four or five years, even when they had sex, he told me it wasn’t very good and his wife was left unsatisfied.  Covering his face with his hand, he sobbed that he was ashamed and didn’t know what to do.

“I comforted him and told him I could help.  I recommended the twelve-week program and he signed up on the spot.  I kept tabs on his progress.  I was excited because I knew he was going to experience a powerful deliverance.  About a month after he finished the program I gave him a phone call to see how he was doing.

“‘Pastor, you’re not going to believe this,’ he said.  ‘But since I did the program my wife and I have been like newlyweds.  We’ve slept together every single day, sometimes two or three times a day.’

“‘And how has it been for her?’ I asked.  ‘Out of all the times you’ve been together, how many times has she climaxed?’

“‘Every single time!’ he exclaimed.

“‘And your same-sex attraction?’ I asked.

“‘Totally gone,’ he said.  ‘Are you kidding?  My wife is all I can think about!’”

The story receives thunderous applause from the congregation.

“So, as you can see, my brothers and sisters, we’re at war.  But the war can be won.  And we can protect our country, our culture and, most importantly, our families.  All we need to do is look to God and the Bible.  And, when you need help, our church is here for you.  Let's pray together right now.”

After the service the crowd dissipates.  Many parishioners approach the pulpit to speak with Pastor Donald Boyd.  I ask Britney if she’s ready to leave.

“No, let’s stay a minute, okay?” she says.  “I want you to meet my dad.”

We stay in our pew a while longer, talking and waiting.

A young man approaches us.  He’s about six-foot-two, slender, with bronze hair and topaz eyes, wearing a blue button-up shirt and khaki pants.

“Hey.”  Britney stands and hugs him.  She turns to me and says, “This is my brother.”

I stand and shake his hand.  “Bill.”

“Hi, I’m Eddie.”

“Eddie does the lights during the service,” Britney says.  “He also sings in the choir at the eleven o’clock service and teaches a Bible class for high schoolers in the afternoon.  He’s really talented.”

“C’mon now,” Eddie responds.  “She’s the talented one.  Over the course of a week she probably does ten times more than me.  God’s blessed her with such a big heart and so much energy.  It’s ridiculous.”

“Oh, stop it,” she retorts and giggles.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” Eddie says to me.  “Is this your first time?”

“Yeah, Britney wanted me to come with her.”

“Ah,” he says and looks at her.  “Always looking for people who could use Jesus in their heart, huh?”

“Actually, we went on a date last week,” Britney says.  “We met at the Faith Outreach booth.”

“Oh, okay.  I didn’t know you were looking for dates while doing church work, but alright.”

“I wasn’t!”  She playfully pushes him.  “It just happened and we had dinner and so I invited him to come with me today.”  Britney looks at me and says, “Eddie goes to school at Arkansas too.  He’s a junior.”  She glances over at her father and says, “Oh, Dad’s free.  Let’s go.”  She gives her brother a quick hug and says, “See you later.”

Pastor Donald Boyd is a distinguished-looking fifty year-old man with perfectly coiffed light brown hair.  He wears a wool, charcoal-colored Hugo Boss suit and white gold Rolex.

“Hey Dad, I want you to meet a friend of mine,” Britney says.

I meet the pastor and Britney explains she met me at the university.

“So what’s your major?” the pastor asks me.

“Anthropology,” I make up.

“Studying other cultures?  That could be useful,” he says.  “There are still plenty of places on earth to spread God’s Word.  After you graduate you should look into missionary work.”

I nod.  “Yeah, I think I will.”

“So what did you think of the service?” he asks.

“It was interesting.”

“You know, the number of young people in our congregation has been growing.  A couple years ago I talked to Britney and Eddie about how we could get more young people involved with Jesus.  And we decided that cool kids would come to church if church was cool.”

“Looks like you’re on to something.”

“Well, keep coming here to church,” he says to me.  “You seem like a special person.  And once the Holy Spirit gets hold of you, you won’t believe how great your life will become.  Don’t be a stranger.”

“Thanks.”  I shake his hand.  “Good to meet you.”

Britney and I walk out of the church into the parking lot and to my car.  “I think he likes you,” she says.  “My dad’s opinion is really important to me.”

“He seemed like a nice guy.  I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Yeah, he’s my only sibling.”

“So is he married or anything?”

“No, he’s single.  He has his own apartment near campus.  He offered to let me live with him, and I love my family, but I felt like having my own space, you know?”

I nod.

“Do you have any siblings?” Britney asks me.

“Yeah,” I say, thinking not of Ariel, but Angela.  “I have a sister.”

“How old is she?”

“Your age.  She’s a freshman too.”

“Really?  That’s a cool coincidence.  You and your sister are the same ages as me and my brother.”

Like clockwork, I worked with Terrell to raid one or two houses per month.  The robberies were nerve-racking, but always quick and smooth.  With G.C. and DeAnthony, Terrell had turned it into a science and I was lucky enough to be along for the ride. 

I bonded with Terrell and DeAnthony and we hung out on weekends.  G.C. still never talked to me.

Late one night the four of us were in a dark blue Nissan Avalanche and approached the targeted house.  As DeAnthony drove up, G.C. noticed a green compact car parked across the street.  During scouting, this car had never been seen.  We had to make a quick decision – continue as planned or abort and return home.  We all looked to Terrell to decide.

He scanned at the house.  All the lights inside were off.  Even the porch light was off, the entire property shrouded in darkness.  “Whoever’s car that is, I don’t think they’re in there,” Terrell declared.  “Keep your eyes open and be on guard.”

DeAnthony parked in the house’s driveway.  As usual, Terrell and G.C. exited the car first and broke in through the back door.  Then DeAnthony and I followed.

Inside we didn’t turn on any lights, keeping the house pitch dark.  My eyes quickly adjusted and I moved to a large space that was a connected living and dining room.  Terrell was already there and was disconnecting a surround-sound stereo system from a television.  In the dining area was a glass case which showcased antique plates and silverware, along with cups and goblets of copper, gold, and silver.  I carefully picked them out and placed them in my duffel bag.

I glanced over at Terrell and noticed something he missed.  In his rush toward the TV in the living area, he had missed something on the couch.  A person had been sleeping but was now awake.  Terrell had unplugged the stereo system from the TV and was now reaching for the wire connected into a power socket on the wall.  His back was to the couch and to the person, who now quietly stood up. 

On a coffee table in the room was a small, but heavy copper statue of a horse.  The person picked it up.  He positioned to bash Terrell over the head with it.

But, while Terrell had his back to this person, this person had his back to the dining area and me.  As quietly and quickly as he moved up behind Terrell, I moved just as quietly and even more quickly up behind him.  I clasped my arm around his neck as he let out a frantic yelp.  Terrell’s body jolted and spun toward us.

  I clenched my arm tight, obstructing his oxygen flow.  The unwieldy statue in hand, he swung it desperately over his head at me.  It slipped from his grasp, missing me, and was flung into the wall.  He passed out in my arms.  I placed him on the ground on his side.  I felt his pulse and checked his breathing.

Terrell looked ill, the color drained from his face.  In a daze, he stared at the person on the floor.

I took charge.  “We should leave now,” I suggested.  “Before he wakes up.”

Terrell agreed, called to G.C. and DeAnthony, and we were all gone in an instant.

On the car ride back, G.C. and DeAnthony were upset and asked what had happened.  I explained.  In the dark the person didn’t get a good look at me or Terrell.  He didn’t know G.C. or Anthony were even there.  We should be fine. 

Terrell was quiet, angry at himself for almost getting us caught and almost getting his head bashed in.

We drove to the back lot of Budd’s Auto Body, where we always parked our own individual cars before a job.  Terrell addressed us all briefly before any of us went home.  If any of us were to be arrested, he said, we should refuse to say a single word no matter what threats or allegations were made.  We all knew this, but Terrell was sure to remind us.

None of us were ever arrested and it was never spoken of again.  However, on my payday for that job, when Terrell gave me my envelope, it contained more money than I expected.  It was the most I’d ever earned.

At breakfast one morning Angela is unusually quiet.  I sip a cold glass of orange juice.  Angela eats nothing, staring at the countertop, saying nothing.

“What’s your deal?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

My mother eats a bowl of cereal in the living room watching the morning news.  After finishing she walks into the kitchen and rinses her cereal bowl in the sink.  She looks at Angela and me and says, “Angela, sweetie, are you alright?  You seem different today.”

“I’m fine,” she replies.

We sit together for the next ten minutes without Angela saying a single word.  She stares forward, lifelessly, her shoulders hunched.

Finally I say.  “If you’re going to be around me I can’t deal with bullshit games like this.  What’s on your mind?”

“It’s not important,” she says.  “But today’s my birthday.”

I smile and say, “Well, let’s do something.”

“It doesn’t matter.  I was just thinking about it.”

“Please.  I’m not going to just leave you to mope around here all day on your birthday.  We have to celebrate somehow.”

“What should we do?”

I drive alone to a local Wal-Mart and buy some groceries.  I stop by Crossover Liquor and purchase a twelve-pack of beer.  Back at home I pack it and some food for both Angela and me into a small cooler.  I grab a blanket.