Authors: Sherryle Kiser Jackson

Soon After (12 page)

BOOK: Soon After

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This time Willie was asking himself what he was doing here. He took a timeout on the bench under the empty bus alcove and Alexis followed suit.

She sat down hard. “I figured if he were bold enough to deal drugs on the street, he might be willing to talk to me again.”

“And say what?” When she didn't answer, Willie replied, “Let's just walk to the end of the block to see if Roy is hanging out up there. Then if you are hell bent to chase down Mr. Crenshaw, you're on your own.”

There was a long moment of inactivity as both contemplated what this next hill meant. He looked left. It was an uphill climb. On one hand he could take this five minute walk up the hill. On the other hand, he had a fifteen minute drive to the dutiful sanctity of his church office.
Why do I feel compelled to be here
, he thought.

“Do you think Roy could have done it?” Alexis asked.

“Done what?”

“Burned the church. Even you questioned his sensibilities.”

“No, not the way he took shelter there.” Willie shook his head. “Even when the doors of the church weren't open, he took shelter there. When he wasn't
in
the shelter he was outside the church. He wouldn't come in. He wouldn't come home with me. He was outside the church with all his bags, his cart and his cardboard mat. Typical, no stereotypical, homeless sensibilities. Gosh, I regret leaving him to these streets.”

“You think Crenshaw and his gang could have done it then? Maybe it was a turf issue, and the church was blocking his business.” Alexis didn't rest.

“Maybe it was a curse like Jacque and his brother down at the corner store seem to think. I don't know, Alexis. I don't want to believe any of it is true, because in my mind that means the gates of hell prevailed against the foundation of the church. And I can't see how that can happen.”

“Typical,” Alexis finally sat back.

“What?”

Alexis couldn't hide her annoyance. “What's with you church people with your unyielding ideals that you flaunt as faith?”

“Excuse me?” Willie questioned. Who did this young woman think she was talking to? Willie was beginning to think it was time for them to part ways.

“I'm sorry, Pastor Willie, if I offended you, and I'm not talking about you, per se.” She blew out a puff of air.

“So you separate yourself from us, church people. What happened to your granddaddy, Bishop Montgomery, and the small home church that you just love?” Willie gibed.

“I consider myself a Christian. That's right, I am a daughter of the kingdom and I know the kingdom of God is too big to be held indoors.”

“That's just the excuse a wayward Christian gives for not affiliating with a church.”

“I make no excuse, Pastor Willie. I say all that to prove that I know that the building is just a representation of the foundation of Christ you carry inside. Buildings burn, grow too small, or fall down to disrepair, but your spirit should thrive with Christ,” Alexis said. “The question is, do these people who took over that church after you left have the spirit to come back so that the enemy does not prevail?”

They both seemed to exhale at the same time as they pondered the answer to that essential question. He could see the turmoil on her face. “Amen to that, Ms. Montgomery, but somewhere down the line you've been hurt, maybe even in church, which has left you with some unresolved issues,” Willie said.

“We've all got them,” Alexis stood and stomped her foot as if it had fallen asleep, “but this is not my exposÃ©. Let's find the man of the hour.”

“Certainly,” Willie resigned. “I need to take my tail on, so I won't have any unresolved issues in my marriage.”

They began a deliberate pace up the hill, looking periodically over their shoulders for the neighborhood boys working the block. Past an abandoned building that appeared to be burned out, Willie thought he spotted a familiar silhouette. He was standing with a haggard looking woman who gave him a hug in exchange for something in his hand.

Willie stopped in his tracks. It took a minute before Alexis, who was trotting beside him, realized he wasn't moving. Willie thumbed in the direction he was looking. Fear, humiliation, and anger took over him. Here he had been defending Roy to her, just to find him dealing the same drugs that destroyed his life.

Willie screamed his name across the divide. The fear that showed on Roy's face after the sudden commotion turned swiftly to delight. Roy bid farewell to his customer and moved toward them. Willie had begun a visual inspection to assess Roy's well being. His usual fetidness was downgraded to a mild rankness without the reeking of liquor.

“I'm so glad to see you, Reverend,” Roy greeted, squeezing tighter, causing his windbreaker to squish between them.

“I'm glad to see you also.” Willie peeled away, remembering what he saw. “What are you doing out here, Roy? I saw you hand that woman something. I know you're not out here dealing.”

“Dealing hope, not dope,” he said with a sincere smile that never left his face, despite Willie's accusation. Roy turned toward Alexis. “Certainly, not dope.”

“This is Alexis Montgomery. She's a reporter,” Willie said.

“Nice to meet you,” she said a little too loudly.

Alexis offered him the bag of food she had bought earlier for him as if she were a deaf mute and suddenly couldn't talk. Roy pulled out a snickers bar and a can of soup. A puzzled expression registered on his face.

“We'd like to talk to you. I, especially, would like to find out what you have been up to. Maybe we can take you to lunch at one of the fast food places and talk there.” Alexis said.

To Willie's surprise, Roy expressed his preference of dining at the corner hotdog stand. He would have imagined a man whose next meal wasn't a certainty would pick something heartier like a loaded submarine and soup from the Sandwich Shoppe. Willie and Alexis watched as he piled relish and onions on two polish sausages already lined with catsup and mustard. Willie couldn't resist making himself a hotdog, chalking up the idea that he'd make it to church to share lunch with his wife. Alexis cracked open her energy drink. There were not many places to sit, so they found an empty bench facing the most pathetic looking park in the quad where they found Roy earlier. There was only space for the two of them on the bench where the wood planks of the seat were dismantled leaving the space equivalent to a loveseat. Willie stood.

Alexis explained the events of the past couple of weeks as it related to her ongoing investigation of the church fire on the
Inside 7
program. She didn't wait for Roy to finish his lunch before telling him, “I want to discuss the possibility of doing a story on you and your relationship to the church . . . and uh, Pastor Willie here; okay?”

Roy was nodding his head before she could get it out, and continued to nod as if he had been waiting for someone to document his life. Willie wondered if he understood what he was agreeing to. He wanted to clarify that Roy would ultimately be on television and possibly be seen by the friends and family he hadn't seen or talked to because of his addictions.

“Pastor Willie has told me you had to overcome so much in your life. Can you tell me about some of your struggles and how it has led you to where you are now?” Alexis said with all the patience of a pediatrician coaxing a child to describe where their ailment hurts. She was armed with a pad ready to record his every word.

“I was a certified junkie. I wanted the drugs more than air. Have you ever run out of air? It's a terrible thing. You get lightheaded. I've been choked right out here on the terrace by a junkie. One of my best friends and I were supposed to share some blow, and I took too much.”

Every time Willie listened to one of Roy's stories, he found them heart wrenching, and the pauses in between torturous.

“When you're being choked you have to make a decision. Are you going to conserve energy or are you going to fight? Nine times out of ten you're going to fight. Fight for that last breath, and the next one, and the next one. Or you scramble to choke what's choking the life out you. That's where I am now.”

“And where is that, Roy?” Willie knelt in front of him and patted his hand for support. “I thought you were turning your life around. I thought you were done with that life. I saw you stand right here and give that woman something.”

Roy went into a knapsack, which was the sum total of his personal effects. Willie could see a dog-eared Bible he had given Roy some time back to read in the shelter at night. He produced two sealed top liquid containers similar to the mini servings of creamer Willie used in his coffee.

“What is that?” Alexis asked, taking one from him to examine.

“My daily dose of medicine given to me at the clinic to step down off the
horse,”
Roy said.

“Heroin,” Willie explained, knowing Roy's history with his drug of choice.

“Except, it was God that helped me get down. Some people take up to two years to recover. They make you take your dose at the clinic starting out, like a parent watching you eat your vegetables. After awhile, though, if you have consistently worked the program, and especially if you have a job, they hand you these to-go cups. I asked God one day, Reverend, to give me the strength to withstand my urges because there is someone like Mildred, the woman you saw me with, that needs this more than me. I've been storing them up. Then I just talk to people, describing that big monkey they are carrying around on their back, but can't see. I let them see mine, you knowâtestify. I keep them away from the dope man by offering them my dose.”

What else could be in those cups, but another form of heroineâa less potent kind? Willie wondered if it were a drug at all. Maybe a placebo, Willie thought

“I can imagine it doesn't make you very popular with the dope man,” Alexis said.

“Reverend, now you know, I've had my run-ins with him. I try to stay out of his direct line of fire.” Roy, seeing the look of horror on their faces explained, “He's not going to keep me away from my mission.”

“These people out here only need to know they can go a day without being on that stuff, just a day. One day where they don't have to hustle up the money for their next fix. They need just one day where they don't have to sneak into the hood for the blow before going into workâjust one day. The day they taste true freedom they are not only ready to choke the monkey they've been carrying, but body slam the darn thing too. They feel so free. If they want more, I offer them Jesus and an escort to the clinic to sign up for the treatment program. So no, Pastor Green, I haven't left these streets. My ministry is five blocks between the alley down there and the clinic on A Street.”

“How long have you been out of recovery? I don't understand. Don't you ever feel like you need your dosage?” Alexis asked.

“I'm not choking yet. I guess I can hold my breath longer without panicking.” His grin was a testament.

“His foundation of faith is strong,” Willie said, swelling with pride.
Stronger than he wanted to believe it could be.
He thought Roy had to be cleaned up, off the streets, and formally trained to minister. Like Alexis pinpointed earlier, he was starting to see the error of trying to cram the arch of God's influence inside a church house.

“It was this man,” Roy said, pointing at Willie. “He never looked down on me, never gave up on me. He gave me the Word, almost six months ago to the day.”

Willie just shook his head dismissing the notion. Roy has grown spiritually in ways he couldn't have imagined were possible in such a short time. He thought how brave Roy was to remain in the trenches after his own deliverance. He wished he could see Roy in action, and wondered how Alexis planned to cover his amazing story.

Willie noticed that they had been talking rather than eating. He was sure his hotdog was getting cold. “Go ahead, Roy, eat.”

Roy wolfed down the first sausage in two gulps and licked the condiments from his fingers. It shamed Willie to see a man so hungry. He took several bites of the second one before Alexis inquired about what he had seen or heard on the street about the case.

“The block is hot, but not from any fire. If anything, that part of Lincoln Avenue has become a dead cell to the dealers now with new cops and fire officials piddling around, but not for long.” Roy patted his chest hard with the flat of his hand as if his last bite went down too fast. He succumbed to a coughing spell that seemed saturated with the city's pollution.

“Are you okay?” Willie asked.

Roy flailed his right hand about, as if to signal something. “Do you think I can get something to drink?”

“Sure,” Both Willie and Alexis answered simultaneously.

“I can run back to the corner and get you a soda. Which kind do you want?” Alexis put down her pad and grabbed her change purse.

BOOK: Soon After

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