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Authors: Dijorn Moss

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BOOK: Men After God's Own Heart
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“Joshua, Peanut, wake up!” Will called, and he moved from the far left lane toward the far right lane as the black-and-white squad car stalked him.
“What, man?” Jamal asked.
“The pos is on us. You ain't got nothing on you, do you?” Will yelled.
“Naw, man,” Peanut said while rubbing his head.
Will prayed that there were not any drugs or unregistered weapons on his brother and his brother's friend. “Don't lie!” Will said.
“He said no,” Joshua snapped.
Will pulled the car into the turnout lane, and the police car pulled up behind him with its lights still flashing.
“How fast was I going?” Will asked Jamal.
“I don't know, I wasn't paying attention. It couldn't have been that fast, though.”
“All your papers are straight?” Will said.
“Of course, insurance and everything,” Jamal said as he went into his glove compartment and searched for his papers.
The familiar sound of the window being tapped only twisted Will's stomach more. Will rolled down the window and was greeted by a bright flashlight.
“License and registration,” the officer said.
Jamal handed over his information to Will, and Will handed the information to the officer.
“You know how fast you were going?” the officer said while examining Jamal's license.
“I'm sorry, Officer. I'm just trying to get home.” Will smiled.
“Have you been drinking?” the officer asked.
“No, sir,” Will said.
“It sure smells like it.” The officer put the flashlight down to get a good look at Will and his passengers. The officer's skin was as black as Will's, but he gave a sadistic smile as he scanned the interior of the car. He turned his flashlight to Will. “Have I seen you before?”
“Probably not. I don't be in this area often,” Will said.
“Naw, I think you're from forties or maybe sixties,” the officer responded. “Yeah you're from one of these gangs around here. I bet if I run your name, I'll come up with all kinds of interesting things.”
“Naw, man. I'm just trying to get home.” Will could feel himself losing control. His anger had grown, and he could only transfer it to the steering wheel he gripped.
“Hey! Wake up!” The officer flashed his light on Joshua and Peanut. “Where you from? Huh? What are your gang names?”
Will prayed that Joshua and Peanut would use wisdom and would not use this as an opportunity to show their ignorance
“We ain't from nowhere,” Joshua said.
“It's past curfew. Y'all shouldn't even be out!” the officer said.
“I'm his brother. I'm trying to get him home,” Will interjected.
The officer started making a sniffing gesture. He knew what the car smelled like, and Will feared that he and his brother might end up in handcuffs.
“You know it's illegal for underage minors to consume alcohol?” the officer quizzed.
“I'm aware.” At this point, Will was done with the games.
Let the officer do what he wants to do.
Will waited for the officer to ask him to step outside the car. Instead, the police officer started to write a ticket.
“Watch the speed, and get home safe.” The officer handed Will the ticket.
Will waited until the officer left to let out a sigh of relief. He waited until the squad car pulled away before he resumed his journey home.
“I don't know if I can go tomorrow to this retreat, J.” Will did not take his eyes off the road.
“You need to go, just like I do,” Jamal replied.
“My mind is cloudy right now. I won't be able to focus. I don't know. I got to protect my brother.” Will looked in the rearview at Josh, who had nodded off again. He wondered if he could protect his brother.
Chapter Fifteen
Jamal
After a wild night last night, Jamal just wanted to check in to his hotel and relax before the start of the retreat. This retreat was different from last year's, and Jamal was in a different place. The last thing Jamal expected was to be summoned by Pastor Dawkins to come to his hotel room at once. Having to appear before Pastor Dawkins was a lot like being sent to the principal's office for misbehavior. As Jamal made his way to Pastor Dawkins's hotel room, he tried to figure out the reason Pastor Dawkins wanted to see him. The man walked so strongly in the Holy Spirit that maybe he knew about his and Chantel's living situation. Anxiety filled Jamal before he reached the pastor's door. He knocked on the door, and the hollow sound the oak made when it came in contact with Jamal's fist was unnerving.
Moments later Pastor Dawkins opened the door. He was alone, which was unusual. Pastor Dawkins usually traveled with his armor bearers. Pastor Dawkins's attire was toned down considerably. Jamal found his pastor in just a black T-shirt and sweats.
“Mighty man of God, please come in.” Pastor Dawkins motioned for Jamal to come inside.
“God bless you, Pastor.” Jamal felt more inclined to walk in after the greeting.
“Care for one?” Pastor extended a can of honey-roasted peanuts to Jamal.
“No, thank you, Pastor.”
Pastor Dawkins proceed to grab a fistful of peanuts and pop them into his mouth in clusters.
“So what's up, Pastor?” Jamal asked as he took a seat on the edge of the bed.
“Well, I just wanted to get a chance to talk with you and see how everything is going.”
“Everything is going well, Pastor. How is everything with you?”
“Good. The big day is coming?”
“Yeah, my last retreat as a single man.” Jamal rubbed his hands on his knees.
“Pastor Brown tells me that things are going well with you and Chantel.”
“I don't see how.”
“How so?” Pastor Dawkins's face turned sour.
“Well, it seems like the more we go to counseling, the more we argue and the more areas that we see we need to work on.”
Pastor Dawkins started to laugh, which led him to cough, as a result of the fact that he was still eating peanuts.
“What?” Jamal could not help but laugh at the sight of his pastor.
“That's good. There's nothing wrong with disagreements. Most couples wait until they have already married to discover their differences, and by then it's too late.” Pastor Dawkins sat the can of peanuts down on the dresser. He had a seat on the edge of his bed, alongside Jamal.
“I guess you're right.”
“The world sees marriage as an act of two people, a man and a woman, and in this day and age, a woman and a woman and a man and a man. But every believer has to go into marriage knowing that there is a third entity, and that's God. Let God be the mediator at times when you and Chantel have differences.”
Jamal felt blessed to be in the presence of Pastor Dawkins. Since the last retreat he had learned not to place men of God on too high a pedestal. He remained respectful, but he understood that in the end a man of God was still a man and was capable of falling flat on his face.
“Did Pastor Brown tell you about Chantel and me living together?”
“He did, and I'm a little disappointed in you.”
“But, Pastor, when Chantel lost her job, it was hard on her, and I can't leave my future wife and son out in the cold.”
“I understand, but your mind is supposed to be dwelling on heavenly things. You know that before you was even born, God had already worked out your life, Chantel's life, and Jamir's. Don't let the enemy cause you to second-guess that.”
Jamal did not disagree with Pastor Dawkins, and he knew that his advice was scripturally based and sound, but it was hard for Jamal to walk by faith when his fiancée was struggling. It was in his nature to want to help.
“Well, I moved out. I'm staying with Will until the wedding. I just want to do the right thing.”
Pastor Dawkins flashed a smile, as if Jamal had guessed the right answer to the final question on a game show.
“What?” Jamal asked.
“It's not easy doing the right thing, but God is faithful and nothing escapes Him,” Pastor Dawkins said.
“There are just so many temptations out there that it's hard. I mean, I got a new boss that is bad, beautiful, smart, and a Christian. Sometimes she makes me question my choices. I don't know how you did it, Pastor, being single for as long as you were.”
“Same way you are doing it, by the grace of God. I can't begin to count the times I spent counseling women that I wanted to be with. But God always reminded me that I had a higher calling and purpose. If you want to be a man of honor and integrity, then you're going to have to live and breathe it every day of your life. You are great man, Jamal, and there's a light on the inside of you that will draw plenty of attractive women toward you. Don't use the light God placed inside of you for the profit of the flesh.”
Pastor Dawkins's last sentence stuck with Jamal. A lot of women at the job flirted with him, and though Jamal never addressed the women's advances, he knew that his female coworkers were infatuated with the ideal of him rather than with him as a person. He was the example that proved that not all men were dogs and that there were men who chose to stay and assume an active role model in their child's life. There was another side to Jamal that was deeply flawed. That side would turn the women at his job away, but not Chantel. She loved Jamal regardless of his faults.
“The reason why I called you in here is that I want you to sit in on the married men workshops,” Pastor Dawkins informed him.
Jamal did not know if he should be honored or concerned. Joining the married men's group and not being married was the same as joining a team without signing a contract. Christian men had the same responsibilities as non-Christian men, only a married Christian man turned to his faith first and foremost whenever trouble would arise. At least in theory that was what he was supposed to do.
“I don't know about that,” Jamal said.
“I think it would be helpful for you to see some of the challenges a married man faces on a daily basis. It will help you to be strong.”
Jamal did not have to go far to see the challenges that a married man faced. His father was a model of how not to handle a marriage. He was rude, overbearing, a womanizer, and Jamal grew up feeling so self-conscious, believing that if his father didn't yell and complain, then that meant that Jamal had done something right. He was not interested in being put in a room full of men that resembled his father. Of course, his father was not a man of faith. His wisdom and principles could be found in the bottom of a bottle. These men were believers, so in theory they should be different.
Chapter Sixteen
Quincy
Quincy would rather eat the wallpaper than spend another minute in the hotel room with Dwight. He thought about running over to the bed to strangle him for single-handedly derailing the future of his baby girl. This young man was brash and arrogant for no reason. Nothing existed in his cognitive, emotional, and spiritual bank that screamed success. Dwight personified the mentality of his generation. They were all proud of being cowards and were afraid to grow up. Quincy was disappointed in his daughter for both her actions and her choice of men, but he was not without hope that Dwight might in fact, want to be a good father.
“Man, thanks for getting me here,” Dwight said.
“Let me help you out. This weekend is not about you getting closer to me. This is about you trying to see what God has for you.”
“I know what God wants for my life,” Dwight said without hesitation. “He wants me to be a rapper and a producer.”
Dwight's comments provoked laughter from Quincy. If he had a nickel for every time he'd heard about someone's rap dream, he could stack one-dollar bills as high as the Empire State Building.
“Do you have a bank account?”
“No!”
“And how do you expect to build an empire without a bank account?” Quincy asked.
“Sasha told me that you started your company from nothing.”
“But I had the wherewithal to not let anybody tell me nothing. You can't deny me anything that I want in this life. I refuse to lose. Do you have that kind of drive in you?”
“Yeah,” Dwight said after he shrugged his shoulders.
Quincy tossed a magazine on the bed in frustration. He would need a bulldozer and ten years to plow through all the backward thinking.
“Can you be an individual?” Quincy asked.
“I
am
an individual.” Dwight stood up and assumed a defensive stance.
“Watch yourself. I don't take boxing classes just to work up a sweat.”
“Look, dude!”
“I'm not your dude!”
“Man, why are you always on my head?”
“Because you're about to be a father, and more importantly, you're about to be a father to my grandchild. Because my baby girl is becoming a mother before she even learned how to become a woman. That's why I'm on your head. You're lucky my foot is not . . .” Quincy grabbed at the air to try to regain control of his emotions.
A knock on the door seemed more ominous than usual.
“Q, it's Jamal and Chauncey. Open up.”
Quincy opened the door and felt relief to find his brethren on the other side.
“What's up?” Quincy said as he leaned against the door.
“Denny's is still opened,” Jamal informed him.
“Forget about it. I'm not going to Denny's,” Quincy said.
“Come on. You know Chauncey is going to go crazy if he can't get any food.”
Quincy laughed at the sight of Chauncey rubbing his belly. ‘No, I'm not going. I don't care what you say. I'm not going to Denny's!”
 
 
Later on at Denny's, Quincy, Jamal, Chauncey, and Dwight gathered together and shared unforgettable moments from last year's retreat. Of course, Quincy would never forget the issues with the raccoons and Will with a gun.
“You mean to tell me that dude broke out a gun and started shooting?” Dwight asked.
“Yeah, and the raccoons scattered everywhere,” Jamal said as he wiped the tears from his eyes.
“The pastor did not know how to approach him. He just assumed that Will had caps,” Quincy added.
The eyes of everyone at the table were red from laughing. With time the laughter stopped, and silence took over for a brief moment.
“So, Dwight, are you ready for tomorrow?” Chauncey asked.
“I mean, I guess. This whole thing is overwhelming,” Dwight said.
“Don't worry, young man of God. God will see you through,” Chauncey said.
Quincy allowed his dull butter knife to spin around on top of the table. He knew his boys meant well, but he still felt a bit betrayed by the fact that they were not upset and were not reading Dwight the riot act.
Quincy finally spoke to Dwight. “Let me ask you something. What went through your mind when she finally told you?”
“What do you mean?” Dwight asked.
“You know exactly what I mean. Don't beat around the bush.”
“I mean, I love Sasha and everything, but when she told me, I already knew and thought it was just my luck. Just when I was about to start getting things together, this goes and happens.”
After Dwight delivered his statement, Quincy wished that he could transform his simple butter knife into a Ginsu. This would happen right after Sasha had graduated at the top of her class. Right when she was on track for a career as a pediatrician, with aspirations to help children in a third world country. “I believe that's more important than becoming the next Will.i.am.”
“Wait a minute, Brother Page. It's not fair to just beat up on the boy like that,” Chauncey said.
“C, I suggest you pull your nose up out of this business,” Quincy replied.
“Is that the mind of Christ? You talk to your own brother like that. What do you think Apostle Paul would say?” Chauncey asked.
“Apostle Paul never had kids, and last time I checked, premarital sex was a sin,” Quincy said.
“But we're all human.” Chauncey shook his finger at Quincy.
“C, since when did you become the poster child for grace and mercy?”
“But I feel Deacon on this one, Q,” Jamal interjected. “Hear the man out. That's the only way you're going to get any understanding and peace out of the situation.”
Quincy did not respond directly to Jamal's point. Instead, he gave Dwight a head nod, to signal that he could continue with his explanation.
“I'm just saying, you know . . . I don't know how this happened,” Dwight said.
Quincy dropped his hand like a gavel onto the table. Jamal let out a smirk and started to rub Quincy's shoulders to calm him down.
“Yeah, there are only a few ways it can happen,” Jamal said.
Dwight shook his head. “But I'm saying that we're both adults, and I know I kept it wrapped up, and so how Sasha ended up pregnant, I don't know.”
“Look, Dwight, my daughter bears as much responsibility for this situation as you do, but to suggest that my daughter wanted to get pregnant on purpose is ridiculous!”
“I'm just saying.” Dwight started to pound his fist into his hand. “I ain't trying to have no babies, and I thought she was the same way! And what's with these
Law & Order
interrogations?”
“So now you're being belligerent?” Quincy asked.
“What does that mean?” Dwight retorted.
Quincy motioned in a way that indicated he was about to hop over the table and strangle Dwight, but Jamal held him back. “Easy, Q. We're just trying to talk things out.” He looked Dwight in the eye. “Listen, Dwight, I understand that for you and Sasha, it was nothing serious, but having a baby is a real serious thing, and Q just wants to know that you're ready for the responsibility,” Jamal said.
“And might I suggest, Brother Dwight, that you consider giving yourself over to the Lord and doing some research into laser surgery for all those ungodly tattoos,” Chauncey said, to the puzzlement of everyone at the table.
Quincy gripped the knife harder. “You can make a choice to walk away right now and never see your kid. You would never have to deal with your kid's tears. Sasha has made a choice to have the baby. That is not something she can walk away from.” Quincy dropped the knife, and it made a chiming sound. He wanted to go back to his room before he ended up committing a crime.
“What's good, fellas?” Will entered the restaurant with his brother.
“Hey, man, you made it.” Jamal gave Will a fist pound.
“I figured this is the safest place to be right now. I decided to bring my brother with me,” Will said.
“How did you know we were here?” Quincy asked.
“I stopped by the hotel and didn't see you guys, so I made a guess that you guys were over here getting something to eat.”
Chauncey looked at Will, a little confused. “But, Brother Will, your brother is too young to be here.”
“Don't worry, C. He's going to be in my room, getting caught up on some much-needed schoolwork.”
A wry smile crept over Quincy's mouth as Will sized up Dwight. He knew that Will could spot an unsavory character from a mile away. He knew that if Dwight was hiding anything, Will would be able to spot it.
“What up, man?” Will said.
“Dwight.” Dwight gave Will a fist bump.
“Dwight came here with Quincy. He's trying to see what this weekend is all about,” Chauncey said.
Will nodded. “That's good. I came here a year ago, and it changed my life. I love these guys as if they were my own flesh and blood.”
“Good, good! That's what's up!” Dwight replied.
“Have a seat, Joshua, and order some food,” Will said.
Joshua had a seat and picked up a menu and started to thumb through it.
“How are you?” Quincy asked Will.
“I'm okay. Just trying to maintain while chasing this one around.” Will pointed to his brother.
“Have you given that lawyer I referred you to a call?” Quincy asked.
“I did. She told me that I'm in for an uphill battle, trying to get my brother. I'm going to try to do it without getting the courts involved.”
“Well, we will be praying for you that everything works out,” Jamal said.
The waitress came, and Joshua ordered a meal, while Will ordered just a cup of coffee.
“So what you been talking about?” Will asked.
“We've been talking about this situation that Dwight has caused and how my so-called friends are taking his side,” Quincy said.
“We're not taking sides. Come on, man. Don't be sensitive.” Jamal gave Quincy a friendly tap on the shoulder, and Quincy batted Jamal's hand away with the back of his arm.
“I'm not being sensitive. My family is in crisis, and you guys don't know how hard it is for me to be here with this clown.”
“Man, you ain't going to be disrespecting me, for real,” Dwight said.
“I wish you would. I wish you would get up enough gumption to step to me,” Quincy said before he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Be cool, Q. You're better than that. We didn't come here for this!” Will told him.
Quincy suddenly felt ashamed of his actions and of the fact that a warrior like Will had to speak peace into his life.
“Look, man, I don't know you, but I respect you for coming here,” Will said to Dwight.
“Good looking, fam. I appreciate it.” Dwight gave Will a fist bump.
“But on the real, you don't want it with Q, and you're outnumbered.” Will cut Dwight with his eyes.
There was a moment of tension before everyone at the table erupted in laughter.
“But I'm saying, though. It's nothing. I would've taken my beat down like a man, because I ain't no punk,” Dwight snapped at Will.
“I know you're not a punk, but my whole point is, don't be a punk to your child,” Quincy said, once again assuming control of the conversation. “I find it amazing how guys won't run from a fight even though they are severely outnumbered, but they'll run from fatherhood and they'll leave their child outnumbered.”
The men at the table went silent, as they were considering the strength of Quincy's words. Quincy could tell that his words had an effect on Dwight, because Dwight became withdrawn from the group and stared at an empty space on the table.
“Be there. That's all I got to say. Even if you and the baby moms ain't getting along, just be there and everything will be all right,” Will added.
Quincy cringed at the term
baby momma
being applied to Sasha. She was not some näive teenage girl who couldn't keep her legs closed, but at the moment she was in the same boat.
“Listen, I raised my daughter to be independent, so she's not like these others.” Quincy did the quotation marks gesture. “Baby mommas that are on WIC, welfare, child support, you name it. She's going to be okay. Regardless, I will make sure of that.”
BOOK: Men After God's Own Heart
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