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Authors: Shana Burton

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BOOK: Catt Chasing
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Chapter 22
“How's the foot?” asked Jamal the next morning, noticing that Catt was walking with a slight limp as they made their way down the elevator to check out.
“It's stings a little, but I'm okay.”
“No doubt it hurts too badly for you to drive,” he added sarcastically.
She thrust her luggage at him. “Or for me to carry my own suitcases.”
The elevator released them.
“Just go to the truck,” Jamal huffed, gripping both her luggage and his. “And you're driving all day tomorrow, no excuses!”
After loading the car, the two were en route to Milwaukee.
“Heaven . . . I wanna go . . . heaven,” sang Catt along with Mary Mary as the up-tempo track poured in from Jamal's speakers.
Jamal raised his eyebrows. “Sure, everybody wants to go to heaven, but you know what they say.”
She stopped singing. “What's that?”
“Everybody talkin' about heaven ain't goin' there,” he quipped.
“Well, I'm going, I know that,” boasted Catt.
“How can you know that, Catt? How can anybody know that?”
“I know because I've confessed I'm a sinner, and I believe that Jesus died on the cross to save me.”
Jamal shrugged. “Okay, so do I. What does that have to do with it?”
She squinted her eyes in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I mean, don't you have to practically be some kind of saint to be guaranteed entry into heaven? You know, the kind who feeds the poor and helps old ladies across the street and goes to church at least three times a week?”
Catt was confounded. “Where are you getting your information from?”
“You hear things. Plus, it just makes sense. If you spend your life doing good things and depriving yourself of any real fun, you deserve to go to heaven.”
“Based on your assessment, not many people would qualify.”
Jamal looked over at her. “You would.”
“I've made my fair share of mistakes too, Jamal.”
“Like what—playing Shulammite woman for Stanley?”
“I can only wish that was my biggest mistake. At any rate, none of that has anything to do with getting into heaven. Salvation is open to anyone who'll accept it.”
Jamal shook his head. “I don't think my soul is clean enough for all that. I've done too much dirt.”
“There's no such thing as having done too much to be saved.”
“Still . . . I don't know if I'm ready to start holy rollin' like you. I go to church once in every blue moon, and I enjoy a good sermon but, truth be told, I can't say I'm ready to stop sinning. I enjoy cussing and sex too much.”
“If God was waiting on everyone to be perfect, nobody would receive salvation.”
“You keep talking about salvation. What exactly am I being saved from—myself?”
“In a way, but specifically, from spending eternity in hell.”
Jamal grunted. “The heat and I don't really get along that well, so what do I have to do to take a different route?”
Catt turned to him. “Answer this for me, Jamal, do you believe in God?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Do you believe that Jesus is His Son and that He died on a cross for your sins?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want the Lord to come into your heart and forgive your sins?”
“Yeah, but—”
She cut him off. “There are no
buts
. Do you want that, yes or no?”
“All right then, yes,” he conceded.
“Congratulations! You've taken the first step toward salvation.”
Jamal lifted his eyes toward heaven. “So just like that, I'm on the list to get in?”
Catt nodded. “Pretty much.”
“So despite all the women I've been with, all the lies I've told, and all the dirt I've done, all I have to do is believe and I'm going to heaven?” He shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. “That's too easy.”
“But it's true. Salvation is a gift from the Lord. It wouldn't be a gift if you had to jump through a thousand hoops to get it.”
“It just doesn't seem possible. What about all those people who do unspeakable things—rape babies and kill people and all that? If they repent and confess their sins, they get to go to heaven too?”
“Salvation is for anyone who wants to receive it, but I have to believe that if Jesus is truly in your heart, you won't do those things. We have a commandment to walk in love, and once you're saved, you become a new creature in Christ. Anyone who is outright evil like that clearly isn't walking in love and hasn't received the Spirit of the Lord.”
“What if they do all that before they get saved? Once they accept Christ into their lives, is all forgiven?”
“Yes.”
He still couldn't wrap his mind around it. “It just seems too easy.”
“Don't drive yourself crazy worrying about the how and why. Just believe.”
Jamal surrendered. “Okay . . . I believe.”
Catt exhaled. As they approached the off-ramp, she said, “Pull over.”
“What? Why?”
“It'll only take a minute, Jamal. I can promise you that it'll be the best decision you've ever made.”
“This better not take longer than five minutes.” Jamal exited off the interstate and pulled into a long-abandoned service station and put the SUV in park. “Now what?”
Catt reached into her bag and pulled out her Bible.
“Do you carry that thing around with you everywhere you go?”
“You'll be glad I did in a few minutes.” She opened the Bible to Romans 10:9–10. “Have you ever heard of the Plan of Salvation?”
“I've heard of it. I'm not too sure what it is, though.”
“Well, that's what I want to share with you today.” She laid the Bible between them so Jamal could look on as she read. “If you declare with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,' and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved.”
“So that's it?” he asked.
“It depends. Do you believe what I just read to you?”
“Yes.”
“Then repeat this prayer after me.” She reached for his hands and closed her eyes. “Father God, I acknowledge that I'm a sinner in need of a Savior, and I believe God raised Jesus from the dead for my sins.”
Jamal cleared his throat and repeated everything Catt said. She noticed that his hands were trembling as he spoke.
She went on. “I confess Jesus as my Lord, and I surrender control of my life to God. I receive Jesus as my Savior.”
Jamal echoed the prayer and opened one eye. “Is that it?”
“Yes, welcome to the family! You're officially my brother in Christ.”
He looked more anxious than relieved. “Okay, so what am I supposed to do now?”
“I think you should get baptized.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Why? I don't want to sing in the choir.”
“What?”
“I used to go to church with my grandmother when I was a kid. At her church, the only way you could say an Easter speech or sing in the children's choir is if you got baptized.”
Catt burst out laughing. “No, silly. Getting baptized represents you becoming a new creature in Christ. Symbolically, it's the death and burial of your former self and the resurrection of who you are now in Christ.”
“Oh. I'll have to get back to you on doing that one. What else do I need to do?”
“Find a local church to join, start reading your Bible, and try to live right.”
Jamal sighed. “Basically, I've got to become you.”
She pinched him. “Basically, you become who you are in Christ. Now, you have access to the Holy Spirit and all the power that comes along with that. Of course, you won't know what that is until you read the Bible and get up under somebody's teaching.”
“So does this mean I have to stop having sex?” he asked nervously.
“It means you should. But if you slip, which you seem bound and determined to do, God's grace is sufficient to cover your sins.”
He shook his head slowly, thoughtfully. “I suppose this is the part where I should thank you for saving my soul.”
“You can thank me by saving someone else's. It's our responsibility as Christians to lead others to Christ.”
“Can we get back on the road now or is there something else I have to do first?”
She giggled. “We can hit the road again. Hey, Jamal?”
“What?”
“I want you to know that I'm real proud of you for taking this step today. You didn't have to do it. In fact, I was half-expecting you to call me crazy or cuss me out for even suggesting it.”
He shook his head and merged onto the highway. “Naw, I wouldn't do that, not to a friend.”
She perked up. “So we're friends now?”
“Don't you think so?”
“We're definitely more than what we were those first few days in the lab.”
“I was friendly. You, on the other hand . . .”
“I was what?”
He cut his eyes over to her. “What's another word for a female dog?”
She smacked her teeth. “I'm starting to think maybe all that salvation didn't take.”
“That was many miles and moons ago, Catt.” He playfully nudged her. “You're all right with your crazy self.”
“You're all right with yours,” she conceded.
Jamal became serious. “I think this trip has really changed both of us. If nothing else, I think it's changed the way we see each other.”
“What's changed for you?” she asked.
“I finally realize the kind of person you truly are. You're a good woman, Catt, like that virtuous woman you were talking about.”
She blushed. “That's sweet of you to say.”
“In another lifetime . . .”
“What?”
He shook his head. “Things might've been different between us, that's all.”
She nodded in silent agreement. She knew that by “things,” he meant if
she
were different; specifically if she came wrapped in a smaller package.
For the first time, she actually knew what it felt like to be that quiet, fat fifteen-year-old who wanted nothing more than for the cute basketball player to ask her to the prom or to notice she existed.
Chapter 23
Catt looked at her chicken wrap and chucked it back into the paper bag it came in. “I'm sick of greasy fast food and eating out of the car. I need atmosphere and tablecloths and food that doesn't come in sacks!”
Jamal tried to balance the steering wheel and his fish sandwich as he rounded a bend in the road. “Don't worry—only 169 miles stand between us and the next stopping point.”
Catt sulked. “I can't promise that my sanity and patience will hold out that long. I think I'm getting a little claustrophobic sitting in this car for hours at a time.”
“Imagine how the driver feels!”
They whizzed by a clump of trees that made Catt stop and take notice. “Hey, there's a park!” she exclaimed. “Let's stop and eat there.”
“You know how I feel about stopping, Catt.”
“We're making good time, and I'm tired of being cooped up in this car,” she whined. “Pull over.”
“No,” he stated sternly.
“Come on, Jamal. I need to stretch my legs, and we both need to be enjoying this beautiful day. There's a blanket in the back. We can make a picnic of it.”
“A picnic?”
“Just pull over, all right?”
He grunted, then, seeing how eager she was, relented. “You think you're always supposed to get your way, don't you?”
“I usually do!” she added smugly.
Jamal swerved into a parking space. “Yeah, we'll see about me having
my
way later on.”
They walked to a nearby picnic table directly across from a bubbling brook and a plot of grass where ducks roamed about the grounds freely.
Catt bent down to pluck an amaryllis. “Isn't it pretty out here? It's so peaceful and quiet.”
“If you've see one park, you've seen 'em all.” Jamal was still brooding about making the detour and getting behind schedule.
“Are you going to be like this all afternoon?” she asked him.
“I plan on it.”
“Suit yourself. I plan to enjoy this beautiful day that the Lord has made.” Catt walked ahead of him and spread the blanket out over the grass. She eyed Jamal, who sat on a nearby bench, transfixed on something.
“What are you thinking about over there?” she ventured.
He sucked his teeth. “Oh, you care now?”
“Not really, just curious.”
“I'm trying to remember the last time I was on a picnic.”
She thought back and sat down on the blanket. “I think the last time I went on one was when I got engaged. He proposed at sunset on a day just like today.”
Jamal edged over to her. “What happened? With the engagement, I mean.”
Catt bit her lip. “He cheated on me. I walked in on him and some slut a few weeks before our wedding. I don't think I've ever been as devastated and humiliated as I was at that moment.”
Jamal joined her on the blanket. “That's deep. I can't imagine what that must've been like for you. I have to admit, I'm usually the guy who gets caught cheating or the one getting caught with someone else's girl.”
“You should try being on the other side sometime. I guarantee you won't be as quick to sleep in someone else's bed.”
“Is that why you're so hard on men now?” he inferred.
“I'm not hard on men, I'm hard on
you
. There's a difference.”
“Well, is that why you're so guarded and closed off?” She didn't answer him. “Look, just don't take what he did personally. Men are stupid, present company included. We could have the best woman in the world, but the male sexual appetite is never satisfied. If a woman offers the goods, we have to accept. It's instinctual, I guess.”
“The eyes of man are never satisfied,” quoted Catt with a bitter laugh. “You say it's ‘instinctual,' but
selfish
is what it is! Selfish and a cop-out.”
“Hey, don't act like women don't get their creep on too, Catt.”
“I know. It's selfish no matter who does it. I'm just thankful for the one or two good guys we do have out there who still believe in fidelity, like my father. My dad never stepped out on my mom.”
Jamal raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?” Catt narrowed her eyes at him. “Your dad may be a preacher, but he ain't perfect.”
“He's a good man, Jamal. Don't put him in the same category as cheaters like you. It's insulting.”
“And don't act like he's above screwing up on occasion.”
“Whatever!” she muttered and crossed her arms in front of her.
Jamal tossed a pebble into the water. “Yeah, whatever . . .”
They were silent for a few minutes. Once the sting of his accusation wore off, Catt returned to her original question. “So you never did say when your last picnic was.”
He shook his head. “I don't want to talk about it.”
“You coaxed me into spilling all my secrets, but you won't spill yours? That's not fair!”
“Life isn't fair, sweetheart.”
Catt fumed. “That's the last time I tell you anything personal.”
“Fine by me. All I need to know about you is how well you can mix and sell a product.”
She frowned. “You know, you have the uncanny ability to ruin a perfectly wonderful day.”
“So I've been told,” he replied, unfazed.
Two curious ducks approached them as they munched on their respective lunches. Catt broke off a piece from one of her wraps and gave it to them. She passed her lunch sack to Jamal. “Here, feed the ducks. Maybe it'll take you out of this funky mood you're in.”
Two more ducks joined in as Jamal tossed a few morsels their way. “Who would have thought that I'd be spending my day in the country, feeding some ducks?” Jamal thought aloud. Catt giggled. He looked at her seated next to him on the blanket. “But I must say you
do
look happy. I never had you pegged as a country girl, though.”
“Are you kidding? I love the outdoors, the sun, the smell, just feeling free without a care in the world.” Catt seemed completely relaxed and at peace. “Did you spend a lot of time outside growing up?”
He shook his head. “Not really, not as much as I wanted to anyway, but we did have some family who lived near Lake Sinclair. We'd go out there a couple of times a year, whenever my dad could take off. Those were the best times growing up,” he remembered, tossing more bread crumbs to the ducks.
Just then Catt screamed as one of the ducks aggressively nipped her hand with his beak. She kicked at it, but the other ducks immediately began to follow its lead and surrounded them. She shrieked again and jumped on top of the nearby tables as the ducks drew closer. They began to assail Jamal too.
“What the . . .” he said, trying to shoo them away. One duck squawked loudly and flew onto the table with Catt. She screamed, dropped her wrap, and darted across the park.
Laughing hysterically, Jamal took off after her. She found safety at a nearby bench and settled breathlessly onto it. He arrived a few seconds later still laughing, holding what was left of their lunch and the blanket. “I thought you liked nature, the sun, the air, the peace and quiet,” said Jamal, mocking her. “I wish you could have seen your tail sprint across that path! I didn't know you could run that fast.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “You could have tried to help me, you know,” she snapped.
“Aw, girl, come here.” He pulled her to him. She leaned back against his chest as the two reclined horizontally on the bench. “You know that I wasn't going to let anything happen to you. I would have taken out all those ducks: Daffy, Donald, Howard—all of 'em!”
A smile escaped from Catt in spite of herself. “All right, you're forgiven.” She sighed and stroked Jamal's arms, which were folded around her. “This is nice. I wish it could be like this all of the time.”
“What's
it
—us?”
“Us . . . life . . . everything.”
“So, you think that there really could be an ‘
us'
? If our circumstances were different?” he asked.
“I don't know. I mean, we seem great together now, but being together day in and day out is something altogether different.”
“Yeah, you're right,” he agreed. “Marriage, living together—all of that changes everything.”
“Besides,” began Catt, “you're too doggone controlling, and you know that I couldn't have you trying to tell me what to do!”
“And you're too darn stubborn and sassy!” he shot back. He sighed and softened his tone. “Of course, I'd probably be willing to give up some of that control if I were with the right person,” confessed Jamal. “You know, that virtuous woman you were talking about.”
“And I would probably be more cooperative and submissive if I were with the right man.”
They sat on the bench holding each other with hands intertwined, looking out onto the still lake. Words were not necessary and probably would have ruined the moment. These thoughts were to remain hidden in the heart, never verbalized. Talking about it would make the temptation to act on it too powerful.
Not wanting to get too comfortable in Jamal's arms, Catt rose and plunked their blanket down on the ground and rolled it out again.
“Why'd you get up?” he asked.
Catt shook her head. “It was getting a little too comfy for comfort.”
“Guess I'm too much of a heathen for you to sit with me for five minutes,” he joked.
“No, it's not that . . .”
“Catt, I'm starting to think the only man you can stand being around for any extended period of time is Jesus!”
“While there are some things I refuse to compromise on, I'm learning to be more flexible these days.”
He agreed. “I have to admit it, you have chilled out some. If I could just get you to put the Bible down for two minutes, we'd be all right.”
“I'm willing to do that if you tell me something else that I want to know,” baited Catt. She propped her head up on her hands and stretched out on the blanket.
“What's that?” asked Jamal, joining her.
“I want to know about the nightmares.”
“What, are you jealous because I'm not dreaming about you?”
She jokingly flung a stray twig at him. “No, I'm not
jealous
. I'm sure that more than one man is going home dreaming about Catt Cason tonight, but I'm more interested in your dreams.”
Jamal leaned back and pinned his hands behind his head. “It's no big deal. I hardly even have them anymore.”
“But you had one the other day. It seemed really intense. What were you dreaming about?”
Jamal sighed and murmured, “My mother.”
“Your mother? I thought she was dead.”
“She is. She died about three years ago, but I still think about her.”
“You miss her,” concluded Catt.
Jamal sat up. “No, I said I
think
about her,” he repeated and got up to grab a soda.
“Umm, sounds like a story there,” replied Catt.
“There's no story, not today anyway.”
Catt was in no mood to argue with him. Instead, she closed her eyes and let the weariness of the day expel itself from her body with each breath.
“So, I came way down here to watch you sleep?” he asked as she dozed off.
Catt yawned. “I'm just resting my eyes for a few minutes. You stay on the lookout for any avenging ducks.”
Jamal lay down beside her. “I think I could use a power nap myself.”
They both dozed off, but were awakened by Jamal yelling “No!” and being startled out his sleep.
Catt sat up, alarmed. “You had another nightmare, didn't you?” Jamal exhaled heavily and disregarded her question. “I know that you had another one. You cried out in your sleep.”
“I don't want to talk about that,” he stubbornly replied.
“Why do you always shut down whenever I bring it up? You're going to have to talk about it sometime.”
“I'm dealing with it in my own way.”
“Yeah, with your women and your little accolades from work. But guess what, Jamal? It's not working. The demons keep coming back.”
He knew that what she was saying was true, but he wasn't ready to delve into that turmoil, especially not now. “I'm fine. It was just a dream.”
BOOK: Catt Chasing
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