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Authors: Dijorn Moss

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Chapter Fifteen

Chauncey's brother had called twice while he was enjoying dinner. He was annoyed as the caller ID on his cell showed St. Mary's Hospital, so he made the decision to send all of his brother's and sister's calls to voice mail. Chauncey was constantly confronted with his brother's plight, and disgusted that his brother always reached out to him more than he would reach out to his Lord and Savior.

“How's your brother, Deacon McClendon?” Jamal asked.

“He's fine.” Chauncey put his phone away. He did not feel the need to explain himself to a neophyte like Jamal. Instead, Chauncey turned his attentions to his guest, Will. At first, Chauncey had been certain that God was interceding on Will's behalf. He seemed to be in deep thought at the introduction meeting, and he'd seemed compelled to come here to the Retreat. But something seeped into Chauncey's consciousness during the introduction ceremony.

He became aware that maybe Will was not here to get closer to God. Maybe Will was a Trojan horse and he was here to do the devil's work. A chill scattered throughout his body at the thought that he may have been a vehicle that allowed the enemy to penetrate the camp.

A sly smile emerged from Chauncey's face at the thought that he had uncovered the devil's plot. At the same time, terror reemerged at the thought that it might be too late. Chauncey closed his eyes and began to pray with both hands interlocked and his head bowed, to the point where they were touching his forehead.

“Lord, give me the strength to do what is right in the face of evil,” Chauncey prayed.

“Amen,” Brother Evans said from across the table.

Chauncey realized his prayer may have been a little louder than he planned, because it caught the attention of Will, the one person he did not want to become antsy.

“You can get service all the way out here?” Chauncey asked Quincy, who was text messaging.

“I can get service on Mars with this phone,” Quincy replied.

Chauncey found Quincy's texting rude, considering they were at a church event where the emphasis was on fellowship between men. Quincy disengaged and preoccupied himself with his cell phone.

“What you do for a living, fam?” Will asked Quincy.

“I'm an architect. Any of the new buildings you see in downtown Long Beach were either designed by me, or I gave very critical advice on the project,” Quincy replied.

Humility was not one of Quincy's strong suits, which was why Chauncey and he often avoided each other as much as possible. Besides, Chauncey seriously doubted if Quincy was even saved. He barely attended church and he seemed more concerned with worldly things than the things of God. Of course, Chauncey did not want to judge him…out loud anyway.

“So you're the man at your job? Huh?” Will asked.

Quincy smiled and put away his cell phone. “Let me tell you, doc. Aspire to be your own boss. Times are hard, man, and I would be going crazy right now if I were in a position where my paycheck rested in another man's hand. I got tired of seeing my supervisor take credit for my ideas and take the spoils as well. I started my own firm with my best friend and have not looked back since.”

“Real talk,” Will said with a nod.

Quincy's words only reaffirmed the street logic Will already possessed. Chauncey had to steer Will away and make allowances for the fact that the pompous Quincy did not know the true nature of Will's attendance at this Retreat.

“You mean it is because of your faith in Jesus. God is the supplier of all our needs,” Chauncey replied.

Quincy responded to Chauncey's statement with a short chuckle. “Yeah, that's true too.”

“Looks like I've seen you around the hood before,” Will said to Jamal.

“Possibly. You went to Poly?” Jamal asked.

“Naw, I went to Jordan,” Will answered. He snapped his fingers with a big smile and pointed. “Jamal Bryant. You played running back.”

Jamal smiled and nodded as a confirmation.

“I saw you rush for five TDs against Wilson.”

“I remember that game too.”

“So what happened? You was the truth back in high school,” Will stated.

“I went to Cal State Long Beach and got my degree. I wasn't good enough to go pro, but I turned out all right,” Jamal replied.

“Didn't you have a friend name Clay?”

Will noticed a change in Jamal's demeanor. Jamal shrugged and put his head down.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Gentlemen.” Pastor Dawkins walked up and put his hands on both Chauncey's and Will's shoulders.

“Pastor!” Chauncey said.

“I hope you're not too full from this meal. Definitely make sure you make room for the Word. Pastor Watson is going to bring it tonight. The service tonight is going to be off the chain.”

“What you know about that?” Will interjected.

“I know what's up!” Pastor Dawkins gave Will a fist bump.

“All right! All right! I see you.” Will smiled.

“Finish up your meal and I'll see you guys tonight.” Pastor Dawkins walked away with the same stride as Denzel Washington.

Chauncey was relieved to see that Will made a connection with Pastor. His only hope was that the connection was strong enough for Will to want to change.

 

As a kid, Will had watched a movie called
Cadence
, where the soldiers in the movie marched, clapped, and sang songs of praise. Their voices were masculine, and they sounded like an old chain gang or field workers. Will got that same feeling tonight as the men sang.

“I don't know what you came to do,” Douglas said.

“I don't know what you came to do,” the brothers said in perfect sequence.

“But I come to praise the Lord. I came to jump for joy,” Douglas shouted back.

And like puppets, men began to jump up in the air. When the song was over, the men went into a clapping fit of celebration, as if their favorite team had just scored. Will was skeptical at first, but he kind of liked the camaraderie among the men. Chauncey seemed to be really enjoying himself because he was crying and sniffling and mumbling gibberish under his breath. The man who had been leading the group in song had one hand on the mic and another hand in the air. His eyes were closed and tears ran down his face as if he had just viewed the most beautiful picture in the world. Will wondered what he'd seen that would bring a grown man to tears. He could barely recall the last time he cried. All the years of seeing his friends killed in cold blood had sapped his ability to feel emotions.

Emotions led to a woman crying over her baby's body while the coroner put the white sheet over her body. Will had passed by countless crime scenes where he did not feel any emotions. Before last night, Will did not see God in the midst of this life. He never contemplated how life began; to him, that was irrelevant. Will saw no rhyme or reason to life. We live, we suffer, we die. If a person was lucky, he found happiness in this life, but even that was a fool's hope at best.

But at this moment, as the men started another song, Will was overpowered by the pain and emotions in these men's voices. Something inside of Will started to stir. He felt an emotion that was as sweet as nectar. When the song concluded, Pastor Dawkins took center stage and took the microphone from the song leader.

“We are in for a treat tonight. A very good friend of mine, Dr. Watson from Abundant Fellowship, is here and he has brought a word for us here tonight. Let us stand and receive him.”

All the men stood for a man who looked like he was chiseled out of bronze. Will hesitated, but decided to stand in order to avoid the awkwardness of being the only person not standing. Dr. Watson took the mic and gave Pastor Dawkins a hug.

Dr. Watson started to rub his bald head as if he had a scratch that he couldn't get to. “Uh, I don't know about you, but I came to praise the Lord. Amen,” Dr. Watson said.

“Amen!” the group said.

Dr. Watson waited until men were in their seats and the only noise was the sound of the speakers buzzing. “I only have one question to ask you tonight. Where are you?”

Everyone perceived the question to be rhetorical in nature. Dr. Watson went on to read a passage in the Bible from the book of Genesis.

Will did not have a Bible, but that did not deter Chauncey from sharing his Bible with Will. Chauncey's Bible looked like a coloring book, with yellow, green, and orange highlighter marks throughout the majority of the pages. The highlighter marks were the only thing that Will could understood. The words could have been gibberish for all Will cared. It was amazing how one could run the streets and neglect the need to be able to read. He was confronted with the shame of being a high school dropout, a shame that he buried under the responsibility to his family; the need to hustle to provide for his young siblings and strung-out mother had caused Will to abandon his education. The preacher asked where he was: he was lost between ignorance and hopelessness.

“Where are you? It's important to know exactly where you are. God knew where Adam was to draw his attention to a disconnect in his relationship with God. When there is a disconnect with God, you have to correct it. Now, instead of mannin' up to his responsibilities, Adam launched into a series of excuses,” Dr. Watson said.

Will noticed that this preacher had a raspy voice and sounded as if it pained him to talk.

“I ask you right now, where are you? Some of your minds are on your women. And some of your minds are, as Snoop says, on your money.”

Will chuckled at the fact that this old preacher could recall a popular song by Snoop.

“Let me tell you something, God has placed too much inside of you for you to have less than your capabilities. You are meant to have power and dominion. You're not supposed to kill yourself working three jobs. You're not supposed to think that the only thing you can achieve is by shady means. No! Don't let the devil push your back against the wall. You push back.”

The preacher had the men in an uproar.

“Why would you go anywhere else but to God? If God created me, then God has the best plan for my life. It's time to stand up and take our rightful place. It's time! It's time to stop tucking our tails between our legs and running every time we are in trouble. No more excuses. It's time to declare that for God I live and for God I'll die.”

The preacher's words hit Will like a Mack truck. It rocked his beliefs to the core. He always thought that he was being a man by taking whatever he wanted from people.

His mentor had taught him that the weak were not meant to have and only the strong survived.

Will had buried these thoughts deep into his psyche, and that made him a predator of the weak. As he watched the pastor take brief moments to wipe the sweat from his face, Will recalled a time when he'd stuck a gun in an elderly lady's face. At the time, Will found the story to be amusing, but now he became aware of how heinous his actions were. He also thought about the time he beat this sixteen-year-old boy senseless to take his car. Maybe that was his parents' only car. Maybe that old lady went into cardiac arrest after she got jacked. In either case, Will doubted that there was a redeemable quality in his entire body.

“Where are you? If I were to ask, some of you would say that you're still at your job trying to get your next promotion. Some of you would say that you're at home with your family trying to squeeze in some quality time. Some of you will keep it real and say that your mind is on the football games, but none of those things can tell you where you are in relation to God.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw something wrestling in the bushes outside of the conference room. He did not know if it was a raccoon or a mountain lion. All he knew was that he was glad that he was on the inside and not outside.

“It takes courage to be a father when you had no father to serve as an example to you. It takes courage to stay faithful to a woman when the spark of romance is long gone. It takes courage to be a man when it's so much easier to be a boy. It's time to put away childish things. It's time to stand up and be accounted for.” The preacher pointed to the floor. “It's time to come down to this altar and vow not to leave until there is a change. Come on right now. We ain't got time to waste.”

Men rushed to the altar as if they were giving away free beer. Will sat in his seat, frozen, torn between the life he had always known and the possibilities of a new life being born at this moment. He could not move; he could not see himself kneeling to a God that, up until this point, he had never thought twice about.

As a child, he was taught that he should never kneel. Life would constantly deal him hard blows, even death blows, but he was never to allow his knee to touch the earth. His back would touch the earth when he laid his body down for good, but his knee? Never! There was more wrestling in the bushes, but this time it caught the attention of the few men who were not whipped up in a euphoric state. All of a sudden, two women emerged from the bushes, trying to spy on the Retreat.

One of them tried to run away, but got tripped up by the bush in the process and fell. Will could not help but laugh. The entire event was hysterical, and now he understood why women being at this event was a distraction.

Chapter Sixteen

Whenever Pastor Dawkins heard a great word like the one that Dr. Watson gave, he would usually go for a walk along the beach. On the beach he came into contact with the omnipotent presence of God. At night the sand looked like ash, and he allowed his feet to sink into the cool sand and enjoy a barefoot night stroll.

While the guys retired to their rooms to shoot the breeze and indulge in whatever entertainment they brought for the trip, Pastor Dawkins walked. He found the night to be a great time to commune with God. Though Pastor Dawkins enjoyed the fellowship of his brothers, he also longed for moments when he could be alone with his thoughts.

As a pastor, he was amazed at how much time was devoted to counseling and ministering to others. He could not imagine having to work a full-time job and minister at the same time. There was just not enough time, which was why Pastor Dawkins clung to the Apostle Paul's advice that it is better to not marry. How could he put a wife through his hectic schedule?

Pastor Dawkins found it peculiar that off in a distance was a woman in an olive green blouse. She seemed to have had the same idea that Pastor Dawkins had, and he was drawn to her.

“Breathtaking, isn't it?” The woman pointed toward the ocean as Pastor Dawkins approached her.

The moon lay suspended over the ocean. The waves crashed along the rocks. For Pastor Dawkins, the ripples in the ocean were the only distinction between the ocean and the sky. It was a special moment that Pastor Dawkins would normally spend in tranquility or in prayer.

“You're here with the book club?” Pastor Dawkins asked.

“Yes, Pastor Dawkins,” the woman said with a smile.

“How do you know who I am?”

“I attend Bethany. I know the mighty Pastor Dawkins very well.”

Her blouse may have been olive green, but her eyes were emerald. She was enchanting as she stood along the shores. One would have thought that she was waiting for her lover to return.

“Well, you know my name, but I didn't—”

“Grace.” Her smile would make any sanctified man bow and repent.

“I thank God for you every day,” Pastor Dawkins said.

The two enjoyed a laugh at Pastor Dawkins's play on her name, and, for a fraction of a second, Pastor forgot the reason why he was there.

“Some of your girlfriends were spying on us,” Pastor Dawkins said.

“I can't speak for myself, but when some of our members see a gathering of good-looking Christian men, they have to take a peek. I'm sure you can understand. I mean, y'all are almost an endangered species.”

“Which is why I didn't want anybody else to be booked here during our Retreat. These brothers don't need any distractions this weekend,” Pastor Dawkins said.

He noticed his comment was a little coarse, but it was too late in the evening for the Pastor to be eloquent.

“This place is big enough for the two of us. What's wrong with us girls getting together to talk about books and enjoy the quality of sisterhood?”

“The problem is that you guys have no problems getting together. There are about forty women here just to talk about books. My ministry has labored tirelessly for months to get sixty men here. We made constant phone calls and announcements just for men to put aside one weekend to do something spiritual. We can't even get brothers to read. We tried to have them read
He-Motions
and most of them only read a few chapters before they put the book down.”

Pastor Dawkins was surprised to find that Grace was not in combative mode.

She was not quick to trade blows with him, but she stared off into space and pursed her lips. “You seem like a man consumed with his ministry.”

“Which is why I'm not married.” Pastor Dawkins followed his statement with a laugh.

“Oh yes, I know.” Grace laughed as well.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Pastor Dawkins asked.

“Your single status is notorious throughout the metropolitan area. I'm surprised you haven't met your future wife.”

“I meet a different one every Sunday.” Pastor Dawkins could not help but laugh again. He always believed that pride goes before a fall. He stayed humbled and focused on the cross.

“Is there a reason why you never got married?”

“I wanted to, but then I thought about it and realized that if I got married, it would no longer be my money, it would be our money. When I'd travel, I wouldn't be able to stay over for a couple of extra days and take in the city; I would have to come straight home. Lord have mercy!”

Grace laughed so hard that she let out a snort. Even this noise was attractive to the Pastor.

“I don't think that's it. I think it's that you're afraid.”

Pastor Dawkins was a firm believer that faith and fear could not coexist within the same person. He was both taken aback and a little offended by her claim. “Afraid of what?”

“Afraid to be vulnerable,” Grace said.

Grace had made a point that Pastor Dawkins could not shrug off as a nebulous comment. “Maybe you're right. A man is at his most vulnerable point when he is married. If you're unwilling to be vulnerable, then that leaves the door open for manipulation.”

“And from my experience, marriage and manipulation go hand in hand,” Grace said.

Pastor Dawkins was a third-generation preacher. Though neither his parents nor grandparents had divorced, Pastor Dawkins knew that his mother and grandmother often struggled with the dual personalities that accompanied their men. He could not afford to put a woman through that kind of ordeal, but as he stared at Grace, he could not deny his attraction for her.

BOOK: The Retreat
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