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Authors: Dijorn Moss

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BOOK: The Retreat
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Chapter Twenty

By the time Will woke up, his room was empty. He'd had trouble sleeping last night, so he was not surprised that he was up earlier than normal. At 8:45
A.M
., Will assumed the push-up position and formed his hands like triangles, and began a set of thirty push-ups. By the time he finished his third set, the muscles in his shoulders and chest had tightened and were burning.

Will took a shower with hot pressure to relax his muscles. While in the shower, he tried to figure out what was going on in his life. For the first time he was not burdened with a sense of having to look over his shoulder. He had no other life than a life of crime. Stealing cars was his one and only skill. He had been baptized in it and it was the only thing his father had taught him.

Will could count on one hand how many times he'd cried. One of them had been when his father was sentenced to ten years. The toothpaste fell from Will's lips and he snapped out of his daydream. In the last ten years he'd looked up to his father and loved him deeply. His father taught Will how to think ahead, see the angles of a situation, and how to stack his money. In regard to money, his father taught him that it rained more than it was sunny for a black man. So he'd taught him to put money away for a rainy day. His father proved to be a better teacher. Will had yet to see the inside of a prison cell.

However, the feelings that Will had been in touch with lately were dangerous, because they made him feel vulnerable. In fact, this whole trip was dangerous, because it was opening him up to a new world. Still, Will figured that it was better to quit while he was ahead.

Will spotted the belongings of the gullible Chauncey, who had left his wallet and car keys in plain sight. He did not want to steal from a man who would rather take him to a church event than jail; but it was innate in Will's nature to exploit any kind of generosity. Will grabbed the keys from the nightstand and removed $300 from his wallet.

He threw on a puffy coat and exited the cabin. Will was greeted by a powerful sun that pushed through the clouds.

The warmth of the sun levitated his soul as he inhaled the seaweed from the beach and listened to birds. Even the tall green grass acknowledged the sun's presence and waved to it. Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Young man?”

Will opened his eyes and saw it was Pastor Dawkins. He was with two guys, who he assumed were his bodyguards.

“What up, Pastor?” Will said.

“Nothing much.” Pastor Dawkins held out his fist and Will bumped it. “I was wondering if you wouldn't mind joining us for breakfast; I hear the pancakes are off the hook.”

Will and Pastor both shared a laugh at such a lame effort on Pastor's part to sound cool, but Will needed to get out of town before Chauncey came back.

“I'm not really a morning person, Pastor,” Will replied.

Pastor Dawkins's countenance changed. He wasn't angry; he was more disappointed than anything else. It was like he looked forward to spending time with Will.

“Not even waffles?” Pastor Dawkins asked.

Will could not hold back the laughter. Maybe he could get one more meal in before he left. It wasn't like his family missed him. He knew Joshua did, but it was important that Joshua learn how to stand on his own when he was not around. His mother couldn't care less, and his sister was too young to understand anything. Will also knew that he would have to answer to D-Loc after flaking on him the other night. Despite everything that told him not to stay too long in this place, Will could not leave.

“That's what's up! Let me just drop something off in the room right quick.” Will did not even wait for Pastor Dawkins's response. He entered his room and made a beeline toward Chauncey's nightstand.

He could not believe that he was actually about to return something that he stole. He removed the money from his pocket and placed it back into Chauncey's wallet. After Will set the keys down next to the wallet, he headed out the door and locked it.

“Sorry about that, Pastor Dawkins.” Will began to walk alongside Pastor Dawkins.

“Now, tell me, Will, where are you from?” Pastor Dawkins asked.

“Long Beach, by Jordan High School.”

“Oh yes, I'm very familiar with that area. It can, at times, be very difficult for a young man such as yourself to grow up.”

Will found Pastor Dawkins's voice very soothing. He treaded through a sandy sidewalk, but was not in a rush to go anywhere.

“Where I'm from cats do what they have to do. It's hard out there, Pastor.”

“Indeed it is. That's why we must rely on the scripture that says we are more than conquerors. That means that we do not have to be dictated by our circumstances, but with God we can overcome any circumstances.”

Will had never heard anyone talk with such conviction. Pastor Dawkins seemed like a man empowered by his faith and not weakened.

“Is there anything that you desire to do with your life?” Pastor Dawkins stopped and asked.

No one had asked Will a question like that since his high school guidance counselor. There was a period of time when Will gave school a chance, and he would have graduated from high school with a 3.0, but his father went away to prison again and Will could not stand to see his family struggle. He thought about going to Long Beach City College, but the needs of his family were too great for him to waste time with school.

“I mean, I love to cut hair, and I thought about maybe one day owning my own barber shop. I don't know,” Will stated.

“Are you any good?” Pastor Dawkins asked while rubbing his head.

“Oh, for sure!” Will agreed. “I cut my brother's and homies' hair all the time.”

“Then maybe later tonight before the main service we can put those skills to use,” Pastor Dawkins said.

“All right, bet,” Will said with exuberance.

Will was honored that this pastor was willing to give him that one thing he rarely had: a chance. More than a conquer. He liked that! Maybe there was something to being a Christian after all.

Chapter Twenty-one

Quincy took a bite of his grain muffin and one gulp of his orange juice. He was not much of a breakfast person, but the cafeteria gave him ample opportunity to study the interactions of his brethren. Today would be a day full of workshops and interactions with the ministers. This was his best chance to expose Minister Hypocrite.

As fate would have it, Quincy would get an opportunity to talk with Pastor Dawkins face-to-face. Pastor Dawkins entered the room with his entourage and Will. The group made their way through the breakfast station.

“They have a much better selection this year than the year before.” Jamal had just returned from grabbing his breakfast, and took a seat next to Quincy.

“What do you think is the story with Will?” Quincy asked.

Jamal shrugged. “I know too many people like Will in the hood. They consider making it to twenty-one an achievement. I just hope that this weekend sinks in for him and he makes a change for the better.”

“Do you buy the story that he helped Chauncey with car troubles?” Quincy asked.

“Who knows? I wouldn't put it past Chauncey to invite the Easter Bunny to church.” Jamal's statement caused both men to laugh.

“Good morning, brethren.” Chauncey arrived at the table with a plate of food.

“Speaking of the devil,” Quincy said.

Chauncey sat down and began to add salt and pepper to his scrambled eggs. He barely got two bites in before his cell phone rang. After a brief pause, Chauncey pressed a button before turning his cell phone off and putting it back in his pocket.

“Who was that?” Jamal asked.

“My brother,” Chauncey replied before scooping some eggs into his mouth.

“I didn't know you had a brother,” Jamal said.

“That's because he ain't saved and I would rather not talk about him.”

“But he's your brother. It shouldn't matter if he's saved or not,” Quincy replied.

“Gentlemen, do you mind if I sit with you?” Pastor Dawkins arrived with his armor bearers and Will.

“Oh, of course we don't mind, Pastor.” Chauncey got up and started to pull chairs from a nearby empty table. Pastor Dawkins took a seat along with Will and the entourage.

After a brief prayer, everyone resumed eating. Quincy could not have set up this situation any better. He had the pastor sitting across from him at the breakfast table.

“Let me ask you something, Pastor.” Quincy waited for Pastor Dawkins to give him the nod to proceed. “Why do you think Christianity is on such a decline?”

“I don't.” Pastor Dawkins put his fist over his mouth to cough. “I just think more people desire Christ and less religion.”

“You don't think the hypocrisy in the church has anything to do with it?” Quincy asked.

“Give an example?” Pastor Dawkins asked.

Quincy thought Pastor Dawkins would never ask. “Well, the Bible talks about the husband being the head, but when you go to church it seems like more emphasis is put on the pastor being the head.”

“The pastor is the spiritual head of the church,” Chauncey said as he gave Pastor Dawkins a wink.

“I know that, but the pastor is projected as the perfect man, and women feel utter contempt to have to go home with their less-than-perfect husbands.”

Quincy generated a bunch of stares from around the table, particularly from Jamal. Of everyone at the table, Jamal was the only one who knew that Quincy's questions were related to his current situation with Karen.

“I agree with you, Brother Page, and that's why I've never tried to project myself as perfect. That is also why I've encouraged women who are having problems with their marriages to try to use more love and less judgment.”

“Yeah, but, Pastor, you have a bunch of women lined up outside your office on Sunday mornings. I mean, that is some influence; you must be tempted.”

“No, because it would cost too much for me to take advantage of the sisters at the church.”

“Brother Page, you have to let Pastor eat so he can be ready for the workshops today,” one of Pastor Dawkins's armor bearers said.

Quincy was not satisfied with Pastor Dawkins's answers. The pastor still could be Karen's lover. The thought alone made Quincy lose his appetite.

“I'll see you guys at the workshop.” Quincy placed his napkin over his food and left the table.

He did not even bother to respond to the farewells from the table. Quincy made his way up the walkway toward the conference room. He felt the sun pierce through the sliding glass windows and the sun's rays heat his legs. This workshop would be pointless if Quincy did not get answers.

Minister Perkins walked into the conference room with his hands full of copies. He also had a Bible in his hands.

“Good morning, Brother Page,” Minister Perkins greeted him.

“Good morning, Minister Perkins.”

Minster Perkins had a smug look on his face that made Quincy want to break his nose just for the sport of it. The dark-skinned brother with the fake green eyes had on a Lord's Gym shirt with Samson pushing away from the pillars.

“How's your wife?” Minister Perkins asked.

That was a dead giveaway.

“She's fine. She told me to tell you hello.”

Quincy noticed the awkward look on his face, which was a telltale sign.

He scrambled for an appropriate response. “Well, tell her I said hello.”

“Why don't you tell her yourself?” Quincy got up and walked toward Minister Perkins. “By the way, do you know what A-MOG stands for?”

“I don't,” Minister Perkins said curiously.

“Of course you don't. You're just an innocent little church boy,” Quincy said.

Quincy got within striking distance. He was one word away from unleashing a merciless assault on the good minister. He just needed a little bit more confirmation. “You know, don't you?”

“I know about what?” Minister Perkins replied, confused.

“My wife.”

Several of the brothers interrupted the standoff by entering the room with laughter and meaningless chatter. Quincy embraced the missed opportunity and backed away from Minister Perkins. He savored the awkward look on the minister's face.

“Praise the Lord,” Minister Perkins said, relieved to see the brothers.

Quincy took a seat as Minster Perkins handed out copies of a workshop pamphlet called “Fight for Your Marriage.” Minister Perkins always bragged about being successfully married. That all could have been just a front; Quincy found it hard to believe anyone was that happy in his marriage. Quincy did not see a reason to continue to fight for something that was already dead. The problem with most marriages was that either people married for superficial reasons or they married out of convenience. In essence, Quincy had more respect for two adults who had come to grips with the fact that their love had had a good run, but it was time to go their separate ways.

“When you think about marriage, you have to be honest here. Marriage is a lot of hard work,” Minister Perkins said.

The men started to agree.

“We are constantly at battle. We're constantly at war. Our flesh craves attention and, honestly, our wives are not always willing to satisfy our cravings.” Minister Perkins started to bounce around like he normally did when he got excited.

Quincy could not believe that he would have the nerve to talk so boldly about his lustful desires and dissatisfaction in a marriage.

Minister Perkins pointed down toward his private. “This piece right here; the Bible is clear that there can be no perversion of this piece right here.”

Minister Perkins paused to let the shock from the guys in the room disappear.

“That's why when the scripture talks about putting on the whole armor of God, the first thing you are to put on is a belt to hold your pants up. Christian men should never be caught with their pants down. We have to cut off the door of infidelity and fornication.”

Quincy got a kick out of Christians who talked big, but failed to live up to their own standards. This added to the list of reasons why Quincy was not as committed to church as he used to be.

“If we can be honest with ourselves, then we would admit that sometimes our coworkers make us feel more appreciated than our wives do.”

Minster Perkins had everyone's attention except for Quincy's. Despite all of Karen's faults, Quincy never felt unappreciated by her.

“How do we fight for something when we are constantly questioning our value and worth?”

Most of the men, now, had quizzical looks on their faces.

“The answer is that we remember the sacrifices our wives made to be with us.”

Minister Perkins's question prompted a brother to raise his hand. Quincy remembered seeing the guy at a Super Bowl gathering at the church. He believed his name was Theo, Theo Garrett, and he usually had a joyful disposition, but not today. Today he seemed perplexed.

“Brother Garrett, you do not have to raise your hand. Go ahead and say what's on your mind,” Minister Perkins said.

“I hear what you're saying, but what do you do when you feel like you're getting abused at home? Now see, my wife, she ain't giving me no loving at home. She talks about me like a dog. What should I do?”

Quincy thought the prescription required him to develop a backbone. He refused to let a woman talk to him any old kind of way when he paid the bills.

“Brother Garrett, may I ask, how do you treat your wife?” Minister Perkins asked.

“I treat her according to the Bible. I remind her that I'm the head, and she went along with it until I lost my job. Now she talks to me like I'm a joke.”

Brother Garrett's comments seemed to strike a chord with the married men. When a man hits rock bottom is when he can no longer walk with his head held high in his own home. Quincy understood this concept too well. A man could take on the world so long as he felt like a champion in his own home. When a woman takes that away, she's dealt a deadly blow to his manhood.

“Brother Garrett brings up an issue that a lot of men struggle with. How do we maintain being the head of our home when our circumstances change, like losing a job? Losing a job is devastating for a man because we take pride in our work.”

James stood up. Quincy barely knew James, but what he did know, he liked. He was a little bit lighter than Quincy, with a similar build.

“Brother Garrett, I just want to say that I feel you,” James stated. “I know what you're going through. I've been there and I'm telling you that no matter how frustrating it may be at home, don't lose faith. You can call me up anytime, because unlike you, I didn't have a brother to call on for help. My wife used to say a lot of negative things, and I got so mad at her one time that I hit her, and I continued to hit her until I lost feeling in my arms.” James paused for a moment to regain control of his emotions. His eyes were closed and one could only speculate that the images of his actions were more horrific than what he described. Tears escaped his eyes. “I nearly killed her, man. I nearly killed her. I swore to her that I would never hurt her and here I was praying that she would die. I just didn't feel like a man, and I wanted to get my manhood back even if I had to take it by force.”

The room was silent and the air was thick. Even Brother Garrett was sitting down.

“I had to pay for what I'd done. I spent three years in prison, but when I got out, God was waiting for me to restore my life, and my wife was waiting for me to restore our marriage.”

“That's a powerful testimony, Brother James.” Minister Perkins paused long enough the let the claps and praises reign. “It's important to know that there is no such thing as a Lone Ranger Christian. We're all battling just to keep from losing our minds. What is also important to remember is what our wives gave up to be with us.”

That statement penetrated the fortress that surrounded Quincy's heart. Karen had been halfway through an art degree when she'd met Quincy. He convinced her that an art degree was a waste of both time and money.

Quincy vowed to take care of Karen and build her an art studio if she desired. Her parents were furious that she was both quitting school and getting married. Quincy knew that she took solace in the fact that she was marrying the love of her life, and Quincy knew that there was no other woman for him. Those sacrifices seemed like they occurred a lifetime ago, and, over the years, Quincy had tried to be a good man to her.

“Joseph refused to let his fleshly desire prevent him from becoming all that God wanted him to be. We must be the same way. I know that there are some fine sistas at your church and job, but guess what? God isn't going to stop making them, so we have to learn to master our fleshly desires,” Minister Perkins said.

Lately, Quincy believed that the best way to resist temptation was to yield to it. He did not deny himself any pleasure. Why should he? In fact, from now until they buried him, Quincy was going to live it up like his idol, Sammy Davis Jr.

“I love my wife, but if I'm not careful with my words and my thoughts, I could find myself going down a road that I had never intended going down. Honor your commitment. Keep God first and remember her sacrifice,” Minister Perkins concluded.

Quincy was skeptical about whether Minister Perkins was the actual person who'd had an affair with his wife. He seemed genuine at this moment. His feelings could be a front, but at the same time, admitting that Minster Perkins may not be the one placed him back at square one. Quincy felt his phone vibrate. He removed his BlackBerry from his pocket. There was a text message from his business partner Gregg. The text read:

Call me ASAP. We have a problem.

Quincy stepped outside of the conference room, and upon being greeted by the cool air, he called his partner.

“Gregg, what's up?” Quincy asked.

“Where are you? We're on the verge of losing the deal.” Gregg was beyond frantic.

BOOK: The Retreat
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