Soon After (26 page)
Authors: Sherryle Kiser Jackson
“Let's start on his cross examination when we get back to the office,” Attorney Gibson said, packing up the Discovery file as if he were preparing to leave. “This is going to be sticky.”
“Why do you say that?” Willie spoke up. “He's only going to present what you've seen today, right?”
“Because, Mr. Green, an average person can only offer in court what he saw or heard, but a marshal is seen as an expert in the field of fire investigations. That means he can offer his opinion as well. It's hard to anticipate that.”
Willie knew full well the opinion of Chief Rich, which was to wrap up the case sooner rather than later.
So what was he there for?
So what was he there for?
“It's our job to make the fire marshal look incompetent.” This time it was no mistaking their intentions to leave. Ms. Rowe rose, smoothed her skirt, and grabbed her handbag.
“Is that it? When do you talk
to
him?” Willie went off. He pushed back in his rolling chair and stood to his feet as if he were going to charge the two of them.
to
him?” Willie went off. He pushed back in his rolling chair and stood to his feet as if he were going to charge the two of them.
“That's what we've been doing for the last half an hour. We only get forty-five minutes. That is a short time to get a plea. We've shared with him the newest development in his case. He, on the other hand, hasn't seen fit to share anything with us. We only have five days until this trial. We have major work to do.”
“Where do I come in?” Willie asked.
Mr. Gibson sighed heavily, “I thought seeing you would make a difference, but . . .” The impatient attorney said, swinging his arm in Charley's direction after slinging his messenger bag on his shoulder.
Willie pushed past the young attorney as he headed toward the door and did what he came to do. He took the seat nearest Charley and rolled it close to his former deacon. Only then did Willie become aware of the guard outside the door. The sudden movement alerted the burly man to stick his head inside and give them a countdown of ten minutes.
“Charley, help me understand this now. You can't hide from the truth. Why . . . I mean, what happened on Easter? What do you know?” Willie stared desperately into Charley's cold eyes for acknowledgement, then at his lips that did not move. He looked at Mr. Gibson and Ms. Rowe, who were not in as much of a hurry as they originally proclaimed.
“We tested the theory that maybe Mr. Thompson was unfit to stand trial because of his short term memory loss,” Mr. Gibson said.
“Memory loss?”
The prosecution wasn't the only one holding on to coffee stirrers
, Willie thought.
The prosecution wasn't the only one holding on to coffee stirrers
, Willie thought.
“According to his wife, he has short term memory loss,” Mr. Gibson said, in a questioning tone that could be interpreted as, âyou didn't know.' “We asked him to name his church and he wrote down Harvest Baptist. Then we asked him who his pastor was. He said you. He spoke your name, then nothing.”
“Isn't his wife the second witness for the prosecution?” Ms. Rowe asked.
“Yeah,” Mr. Gibson confirmed.
“His wife?” Willie said, craning his upper body to address the pair of lawyers responsible for Charley's fate. “Can they make her testify against her own husband?”
“No one is making her. She waived marital privilege, which could have protected her against having to tell on or testify against Mr. Thompson,” Ms. Rowe said.
“What?” Willie asked the duo. Then he turned back to Charley. He demanded to know the truth, not just for himself, but for all his former members Charley persuaded against the move to Mt. Pleasant whose lives could have easily been taken out in an intentionally set blaze. “Did you do it? And if it wasn't you, then why did you flee? Tell these people, Charley 'cause right now the prosecution might have enough to put you behind bars for a long time. You hear me? My goodness, Charley, you of all people know what's done in the dark will come to light. God is a forgiving God. He'll forgive you.”
“I'm sorry, Mr. Green,” Mr. Gibson said, apologizing like Willie was his client about to face jail time for arson charges. When the guard came to escort Charley back to his cell he continued, “Obviously you haven't been told the full story.”
“Obviously I haven't. I could have saved myself the trip and told you over the phone I wasn't a miracle worker or the Messiah. Apparently that is who Mr. Thompson would prefer to confide in on the day of judgment,” Willie said, looking down one last time before turning his back on Charley.
“I didn't do it.” Charley whispered the words that would make all the difference, “I'm just cursed.”
Chapter 27
The Fate of the Fire
Willie's head could not hold all the thoughts swarming through it. He mindlessly drove at a feverish pace to get away from the correctional facility where both Charley and the truth were being held. Mr. Gibson had explained that on top of possible arson charges, Charley would have to face additional charges for abducting his wife and forcibly keeping her against her will. Poor Elaine, Willie thought. She looked so peaceful and in good spirits the last time he saw her. She didn't know her life was about to change so drastically.
Willie called Keisha to tell her that he wouldn't be joining her and Reverend Kennedy. He explained a little of what went on to Reverend Kennedy while he drove. Reverend Kennedy understood that lunch was the last thing on Willie's mind, and that there was only one place he could go to bury the rest of the burdens that were plaguing it.
Willie pulled up in front of his former church home. The brick façade was in place, but the top looked deflated from the street like a spoiled soufflé. The beams that formed a steeple had collapsed. Willie was thankful the place seemed deserted now, although huge dumpsters out front and Gatorade dispensers on the top of the landing let him know a crew had been working to gut the place out. He walked toward the back, running his hand along the side as he thought about the times he would catch Roy sleeping out by the footpath and other times when he and Charley did light maintenance outside the church on Wednesdays. The thoughts pierced his heart.
The wall gave way to a full tarp at the back where most of the damage was evident. He pulled back the draping to step inside. He could see the sanctuary. Each pew was turned upside down and he wondered what dump or salvage yard would be getting these remnants. He clamored over piles of wood and debris to get closer to the altar, but it was completely blocked, so he knelt where he was and began to pray.
“Lord, what am I supposed to get from this?” Willie asked aloud, looking up past the charred roof. “I have to question did I really know the people I ministered to. Did I do my job? I can't save them, Lord. I couldn't save Roy, I can't save Charley. I'm leaving it all here this time. I got Vanessa and the baby. That's all.”
Willie thought he heard something. The enthusiastic giggles and whispers of a couple coming from the front of the church were coming his way.
“Somebody's in here,” a man said.
“Give me a minute, and I'll be out of your way,” Willie said, wiping his eyes and preparing to leave.
The man approached without the woman, who lingered at the door as if he were a true intruder. Willie shielded his eyes as he stood to see just who it was.
“Pastor Green?”
“Just a minute, please.” Willie dusted off his pants at the knee.
At the mention of his name, the woman drew nearer. She stood slightly off the shoulder of his successor and present pastor of Harvest church.
“No, you're fine.” Abe studied him. “We're due to meet with the contractor and just trying to imagine how the place will look in twelve to eighteen months.”
“Well, it's your church,” A mix of anger and something else would not let Willie look up and meet Abe's glance.
“Hello, Willie,” the woman said, stepping out of the shadow.
Willie scrunched his eyes although there was no direct sunlight. “Blanche?” He looked back and forth between the two of them as if to size up the situation.
“Blanche is our, uhm, she's myâ” Abe stammered.
“We're in love,” Blanche blurted out, clinging to Abe possessively.
Willie didn't know if that was supposed to be for his benefit, but it seemed to catch Abe by complete surprise. Willie put up both hands to signal that he had no comment for her declaration. He came there on a whim of emotions and maybe it was a mistake. He thought it best to finally move on.
“What do you think?” Abe asked.
“About what?” Willie asked incredulously. He gathered his wits about him for a second and decided not to be rude. “I'm happy for you; now if you'll excuse me.”
Willie didn't get two feet around the long flanks of wood before Abe called out to him. “No, about the church. We're going to expand on the lot out back. We could have a full pantry back there. I'd love to carry out some of the vision you had for this place.”
“What is your vision, huh? Pray to the Lord and ask for your anointing,” Willie said, turning. “Might I remind you that to whom much is given, much is required.”
Willie almost felt sorry for the young minister who appeared to hang his head in shame. Blanche dropped his hand and turned toward the altar with her hand over her mouth as if in her own prayer.
“I've been preaching in your shadow ever since my uncle introduced me to this church. There was many a day I felt like giving up, coming to someone like yourself and being an apprentice of your pulpit. Any given day I just as soon hand the keys back over to you. Preaching is one thing; shepherding is a whole 'nother story. It's serious business.” Willie heard the quiver in Abe's voice. “I so don't want to misstep.”
In two steps Willie was up in Abe's face like a drill sergeant. “You think you are going to get sympathy from me? I don't want to hear that, Townsend. You sat in arbitration and made like you were ready. You are here for a reason. Don't you dare take your hand off the plow now.”
The Holy Spirit brought back to Willie's remembrance a not so private meeting he had had here with Abe's Uncle Charley, where Willie lowered himself and slapped him. Willie turned to walk away before that same urge hit him. He turned on a dime as if he forgot something. “You're busy courting and making plans; when was the last time you've seen your uncle or your aunt? I just left the jail seeing your uncle, your member. He shouldn't have forced your aunt to leave the state, but has Elaine talked to him or been to see him at all?”
“He hits her, Pastor. That's why she hasn't been to see him. My Uncle Charley has been abusing my aunt for years.” Abe's words seemed to knock the wind out of the Big Bad Wolf.
Once again, Willie tried to see past the charred roof to catch a glimpse of heaven. Obviously he didn't know the full story. He tried a new approach. Lowering his voice significantly he said, “When do they begin to heal?”
“After he faces the fate of the fire,” Abe said.
Willie paced in a mini circle. He should have left when he originally planned to, because the overwhelming desire to help was on him again. “He said he didn't do it. He told me himself. The first words out of his mouth were to me, and he said he didn't do it.”
“He was there, Pastor. My aunt showed me a metal lock box discolored from the heat of the fire that my uncle brought home,” Abe said, with a raised voice and elevated emotions.
“And he's a batterer,” Blanche added from afar.
“Yeah, but that doesn't make him an arsonist.” Willie had his hands on his waist. He kicked rubble as he thought aloud. “He deserves to be held accountable for harming his wife, but my compassion lies with the both of them. Everybody's written him off, including his lawyers. I wish I could talk to Elaine, if it's even possible. The last time I saw her was onâ”
Willie grabbed his head with both hands as if the sky was falling on top of him. A picture flashed in his mind, the one captured by Alexis's cameraman on Easter Sunday that Chief Rich brought by for them to ID people. Everyone was dressed up, everyone familiar, but now, one was clearly out of place. Willie thought about what Brother Brown had said at Sunday dinner. “Arsonists love to hang around a scene and see their own work.”
Why was she really visiting with them at Pleasant Harvest on Easter Sunday?
Why was she really visiting with them at Pleasant Harvest on Easter Sunday?
The pictures began falling into place like snapshots in a slideshow. Willie bolted for the front door almost knocking over Pastor Kennedy and his sister-in-law who apparently had come to check on him, but he hadn't seen come in. He broke the seal on the door that opened like it was vacuum compressed or warped from extreme heat and took the stairs to Lincoln Avenue. Despite hearing his name being called by all that assembled at Harvest Church that afternoon, he walked between cars, waiting at the light like a crazed man until he reached his destination.
The bell announced Willie's arrival as one of the Brothers Jacques arose from behind the counter perch. Willie's hunch was not on coffee stirrers, but rather little red caps. Charley had said he was cursed, and Willie remembered Charley's lack of fondness for women preachers had led him to use that term before regarding his wife. The only other people that he knew regularly used that term were the Jacques Brothers. He figured now there was more to their voodoo babble.
“Hey, Preacher man,” the younger more enthusiastic one cheered. ”You can't stay away.”
“Awhile ago you said a woman was stirring up something,” Willie said, demonstrating a stirring motion with an imaginary bowl and spoon. He was shouting as if the brother was hard of hearing. “Where is it?”
“Ah, I remember, the priestess. Usually so mild, came in like a storm that day. Was I right?”
“Please, just show me what was it that she bought from you?”
Jacque's long narrow finger pointed him down the aisle. “There is one bottle left. We haven't re-ordered, fearing she'll come back.”
Willie searched the aisle like a man ailing in need of the last bottle of pain reliever. He came to a row lined up with toiletries that the brothers sold for their customers' convenience or emergencies. He saw a void in the display before spotting a lone bottle of nail polish remover pushed in the back, secured with a little red cap.
Willie brought the last bottle back to the counter with him as if he were going to purchase it. “You've known all along. You've got to tell the chief what the lady bought from your store, and when. That is critical information in the investigation of the church fire across the street.”
They were the exact opposites. Willie felt like a raving lunatic while Jacque was careless and unconcerned. “Why do you care, Preacher? You've moved on.”
“Because it's the truth. You've got to tell what you know.”
He turned away from Willie as if he couldn't bear to look at him. “Le temps nous diraâ”
“In English,” Willie demanded before he could finish.
“Time will tell, but I won't. Only a fool interferes with a curse,” the brother said, taking leave of the conversation on his perch behind the counter.
Willie thought about going over the counter after him, but didn't. He dropped the bottle of nail polish remover on the counter and carried the weight of knowing out the door.
Willie stumbled out the door like a man with amnesia. He stopped on a patch of grass that rimmed the sidewalk with Jacques's store in the background. He didn't know his name. He didn't know the people encircling him, and he definitely didn't know what to do with the facts he had put together.
“He didn't do it,” Willie said, looking at all of themâBlanche, and Abe, Keisha, and Pastor Kennedy. He bent at the waist as if from a sudden pain. “I knowâhe didn't. It was Elaine Thompson, all along. It was his wife.”
“Wait; that can't be,” Abe said.
“Are you all right bro? It's gonna be all right. Just sit on the curb here,” Keisha said, taking him by the arm and leading him to the solid stability of the ground.
“She bought almost the entire stock of flammable polish remover from the brothers there, did her deed, and came to Pleasant Harvest for the day.” Willie said more so for himself. “Why on earth would she come directly over to Harvest with us when we found out about the fire instead of going directly home to check on her husband or anyone else she cared about at her own church? I remember now; pale blue suit, pillbox hat, and a smile to beat the band. All captured in a photo. We were all praising, but she . . . she seemed to be cheering. She wasn't devastated over the loss of her church; she was a spectator.”
“This doesn't make any sense. My Aunt Elaine is the sweetest, meekest, most generous woman I know,” Abe said, shaking his head as if he could somehow prevent those thoughts from entering his brain.
“Oh my God!” Willie's face lit with the beam of an âah-ha' moment, then immediately drooped. He brought his hand to his face to cover it.
“Bro?” Keisha knelt in front of him.
“She had his car,” Willie said so loud Keisha had to back away. “It was late and she had parked so far away. I sent Mac to walk her down the street. He commented about the Cadillac Grand. That's his car.”
“Why, though? Why would she do something like that?” Abe asked, reeling from his own thoughts.
“Why?” Willie parroted. “You said yourself that she was abused. Who knows what lies in the hearts of the scorned?”
“So what are you going to do now?” Blanche asked from the background. “Oh, you should call your friend the reporter.”
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