When Solomon Sings (22 page)

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Authors: Kendra Norman-Bellamy

BOOK: When Solomon Sings
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TWENTY-ONE
Sunday morning, Neil was uncommonly sluggish, and as a result, he was moving at the speed of a much older man. There were few things that aggravated him more than being late for church, but since he was only partially dressed, still had to pick up Shaylynn, Chase, and Li'l Miss, and morning worship was to begin in less than half an hour, today would likely be one of those days. Saturday had brought on another night of tossing and turning for Neil, but this time it was different. Instead of simple restlessness keeping him from a sound sleep, last night it was music. Loud music. And it wasn't coming from a neighbor's house, but from inside his own head. The sounds of an unfamiliar tune and the letters of lyrics swarmed through his head, ultimately combining to form a song he'd never heard before. A song so loud and persistent that it hindered him from finding peaceful sleep. It wouldn't stop playing in Neil's head until he gave up the fight for slumber and got up, grabbed a pen and notepad, and wrote down the words.
Neil didn't know why it was so pressing, but the first thing that came to mind was Deacon Burgess's request. Neil couldn't remember the last time a song had weighed so heavily on him, and it was just too ironic that three days earlier, Deacon Burgess had planted the seed in his head of writing an original song for his funeral. The song had Neil wondering if the Lord was preparing him for the death of his old friend. He had his doubts though. The words weren't quite fitting for a burial, but what else could it be? Even as Neil finished shaving the overnight stubble from his face, he subconsciously hummed the relentless tune.
As he put the final touches on his wardrobe, Neil splashed on the cologne that had twice caused Shaylynn to press her nose into his chest and inhale deeply. She said Issey Miyake was her favorite, and as long as it was her scent of choice and drew the kinds of reactions from her that it currently did, Neil was going to stick with it. When he opened his jewelry box to retrieve his watch, the case that had been holding Shaylynn's engagement ring for nearly two months captured his attention. The box always caught Neil's eye when he opened the wooden drawer that held his watches, cufflinks, and the signet ring that his brother was wearing on the day he collapsed and died.
With more time ticking away on the clock, Neil picked up the box and opened it. He was already running late. Whether he left now or five minutes from now, it wouldn't make a difference. Neil sat on the edge of his bed and opened the casing. Shaylynn's ring was more beautiful now than it was on the day he made the purchase. His planned proposal was now only two days away. No date on the calendar could be more perfect than Valentine's Day, and for the first time in all the time he and Shaylynn had been dating, Neil had no reservations. At least none that were caused by Emmett Ford's ghost. His only apprehension now came from CJ and Theresa's misfortune. It almost seemed cruel for him to propose to Shaylynn at a time like this. CJ had been Neil's best friend ever since Dwayne died, and if Shaylynn accepted Neil's proposal, he would want to share the good news with CJ first. But there was no way CJ could genuinely celebrate the moment with him ... not with Theresa slipping away.
Neil closed his eyes and released a puff of air. It was still hard to believe Theresa was dying. Going to the hospital to visit her was becoming increasingly difficult, but Neil knew that he couldn't bail out on CJ during the greatest tragedy of his life. The process, by far, had to be more agonizing for CJ than anyone else. Neil made a mental note to go to the hospital after church. It had been a few days since Shaylynn had been able to go due to her surrogate mother duties. Today, Neil figured that they could take Chase and Li'l Miss to Ms. Ella Mae's and let them spend a little time with her while he and Shaylynn spent time with CJ and Theresa.
“Two more days.” As much as his heart went out to CJ, Neil couldn't reschedule the proposal. He had an entire evening planned that included a concert and a romantic dinner. And knowing CJ, even with all that he was facing right now, he wouldn't even want Neil to delay it any longer.
Neil's eyes fell to the legal pad that was resting near the foot of his king-sized bed. He wished the words to this new song of his were fit for a wedding. If they were, he could sing them to Shaylynn as she marched up the aisle to meet him at the altar. Neil was certain that she would love to have him do that, but this wasn't a love song. It wasn't a song for a wedding, nor was it a song for a funeral. As Neil placed the engagement ring back into his jewelry case and grabbed his keys and wallet, he figured that when the time was right, God would reveal the reason for the lyrics that had robbed him of his sleep.
“You're late.” It was the first thing Shaylynn said when she opened her front door for him to enter.
“I know, suga. I'm sorry.” Neil wanted to greet her with a kiss, but Chase was rounding the corner to the living room, lugging Li'l Miss's baby bag on his shoulder.
“You smell good though,” Shaylynn whispered.
Neil grinned and gave her a quick wink. He couldn't wait for the day when she would be able to do more than smell him. “I'll take that to mean I'm forgiven.” He gave Chase a high five, and then took the baby carrier from Shaylynn's left arm so she could have a better grip on the baby, who was cradled in her right. “Ready to go?”
“Yes. Can you lock the door for me?”
After securing Shaylynn's house, Neil made sure that everyone was loaded and buckled safely into his SUV. Li'l Miss was wrapped so securely in her blankets that there was no way she'd catch a cold. Ella had fussed about them bringing the baby out into the winter elements so soon after her birth, but the doctor had given them permission to do so. She'd said that the advice to stay indoors for those extended weeks after giving birth was actually for the well-being of the mother, not the child. Dr. Daniels had assured them that there was no danger in taking the baby to church as long as she was wrapped well and not being touched and kissed by others who might be carrying a cold virus.
With Li'l Miss being the daughter of the pastor and the church's ailing first lady, the doctor was concerned as to whether Shaylynn would be able to hold back the sympathetic congregants who would surely want to fawn over the firstborn of their church leaders. But apparently, Dr. Daniels didn't know Shaylynn. As overprotective as she was, the church members didn't stand a chance.
Praise and worship had already begun as they entered the sanctuary, but prime seats were still available. Shaylynn and the children were directed to the edge of a row near the front of the edifice, and Neil followed the usher who escorted him to his regular spot in the deacon's corner beside Deacon Homer Burgess.
After Neil placed his Bible and keys on the seat behind him, the first thing he did was look at Homer, who sat, staring straight ahead, as he sang the words of VaShawn Mitchell's “Nobody Greater” along with the praise team. His eyes had that faraway look that Neil had become accustomed to equating to Alzheimer's, but with the old man's recent revelation, Neil wasn't sure whether what he was looking at was authentic or just another Oscar-worthy performance. He was tempted to lean over and say something to the deacon and see what kind of response he got, but decided that this wasn't the right time. Neil would corner him after the benediction.
Although praise and worship was as enjoyable as usual, it ran longer than normal. Most Sundays, unless the Holy Spirit orchestrated a major takeover, the praise leaders were relinquishing their microphones to the assigned service leader at the thirty-minute mark. Today, that wasn't the case, and by the time they had stretched it to fifty minutes, Neil began getting the feeling that the songsters were, for some reason, trying to delay the progression of the service. Only four more minutes would pass before his suspicions were validated.
Loud applause erupted from the sanctuary when CJ, dressed in one of his finest clergy robes, appeared from behind the wall that divided the platform from the hall that led to the pastor's study. Nobody had expected to see him today, Neil included. When Neil visited him yesterday afternoon at the hospital, he could tell that CJ was nearing a breaking point. Not one speck of good news had been given since Theresa's admittance. Her condition was on a steady decline, and although CJ didn't verbally say he was giving up hope, it was beginning to look that way to Neil. And when he looked at Theresa lying in the bed, bearing little or no resemblance to her former self, Neil could understand why. It didn't look good, to say the least.
The CJ who was now approaching the dais was different. His countenance wasn't the usual jubilant one to which the members of Kingdom Builders Christian Center were accustomed, but he was clean shaven, well groomed, and looked a far cry better than he did less than twenty-four hours ago. The applause died down when CJ accepted the microphone from the praise and worship leader, but they immediately increased again—even louder than before—when Reverend B.T. Tides, clad in a burgundy single-breasted suit and his signature silver cross necklace, rounded the corner, preceded by one of his armor bearers, and joined the pulpit staff. Having the bishop in their midst was a very rare treat. On average, he visited KBCC twice annually: once to preach on Founder's Day, the day they celebrated the memory of the church's visionary, Dr. Charles Loather Sr., and again for the closing service of CJ's pastoral anniversary.
At first, Neil thought that Reverend Tides was going to join CJ at the podium, but after he waved out at the congregants in a silent gesture of appreciation for their warm reception, he elected to sit in the pulpit chair beside the one that was reserved for the pastor. The church members continued standing in anticipation of whatever CJ was going to say, but after a brief silence, he gestured for them to take their seats.
Upon sitting, the first thing Neil realized was Deacon Burgess's demeanor. He hadn't stood when the bishop entered, and he didn't even seem to notice that their pastor was in their presence for the first time in three weeks. Homer wasn't faking it today. This was genuinely one of his bad days. Neil patted him on the knee, and Homer looked at him and gave him one of those mechanical smiles.
“In the book of I Thessalonians 5:18, the Word admonishes us to give thanks to God for all things,” CJ said while spying out the congregation. “So today, I thank Him.” His bottom lip quivered a bit, but he quickly steadied it. As a matter of fact, the pastor somehow mustered a small smile just before saying, “I thank God because I know that if I can't appreciate Him when times are bad, then the appreciation I say I have during the good times really isn't genuine. I'm thankful because I know that even on a bad day, God is good and yet worthy to be praised. I give Him the glory in spite of today, because I know that all the yesterdays I've had, I never would have been blessed to have if it weren't for Him.” He stepped from behind the book board and added, “Just because what I'm going through today is breaking my heart doesn't give me the right to forget how good God is.”
CJ's voice had gotten stronger, and by now, some of the audience members were on their feet, clapping and offering words of worship to the Lord in agreement. Neil was one of them. He knew how difficult this must be for CJ, and if all he could do was show his support by standing and letting his best friend know he wasn't alone in the struggle, then that was what he was going to do.
CJ cupped the cordless mic in his hands and challenged all the believers in the building. “Have you ever been in a dry place where you didn't realize that God was all you needed until you realized that He was all you had?”
Shouts of “Amen” resonated in the building. More members were now on their feet. CJ hadn't opened a Bible, taken a text, or given them a subject, but he was already preaching whether he realized it or not.
CJ turned to face the bishop. “I thank God for you, Reverend Tides. If it weren't for your prayers and counsel, I wouldn't have had the strength to be standing here in this place today.” He turned and faced Neil. “I thank God for you, Deacon Taylor. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have had a brother, sitting with me at the hospital every single day of this process, telling me that I didn't have to go through this alone.” CJ looked out into the audience, quickly finding where Shaylynn sat, holding Li'l Miss, and said, “I thank God for you, Sister Ford. If it weren't for you, I would not have had anybody to give our baby the love and care that she needed while her biological mother fought for her life.”
Fought?
Neil stiffened, wondering if it was over. Had CJ come to church because there was no longer a reason for him to be at the hospital? Neil questioned whether anyone else had caught that past tense reference. There was no indication that they had, because they kept right on clapping and praising God behind their pastor's words.
“But most of all, I thank God for Jesus,” CJ continued, “because had it not been for Him, I would have no life. When you're in a desert place, it's hard to see life. If you can't find the water—the life source—then you can't see where your next breath is coming from. You need an inhale in order to exhale, and in my darkest hour, I couldn't find my inhale. I needed Jesus to breathe on me.” Amid responses from the audience, CJ found his way back to the book board and stood behind it. He quickly flipped through the pages of his Bible, but even when he'd apparently found the reference he was looking for, he didn't read it.

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