Authors: Sherryle Kiser Jackson
Soon After (19 page)
Chapter 17
The New It Girl
The death of an international superstar of stratospheric proportion preempted the regular broadcast of most televised programming, including the
Inside 7
segment, as never ending probes into his death, dizzying amount of tributes, and his footage played 24/7. As a young boy on the rise, this star came to Washington DC to attend a gala of the then president, Jimmy Carter. A perky Channel 7 special assignment reporter, Lizzy London, got to meet and interview him. The current production team of the
Inside 7
program elected to run the vintage footage in memorial.
Inside 7
segment, as never ending probes into his death, dizzying amount of tributes, and his footage played 24/7. As a young boy on the rise, this star came to Washington DC to attend a gala of the then president, Jimmy Carter. A perky Channel 7 special assignment reporter, Lizzy London, got to meet and interview him. The current production team of the
Inside 7
program elected to run the vintage footage in memorial.
To any other reporter that hiatus would mean death to a series of stories based on lesser known individuals. But to a rising reporter like Alexis Montgomery armed with conviction about an investigative probe of her own and breaking news on her Blackberry, there was no stopping her.
“Well, that's the kind of meeting I like, short and sweet,” remarked Lizzy London, who in her seniority no longer felt it necessary to pitch ideas. Alexis wondered why she even bothered to show up. She usually upgraded a top story handed to her from the nightly news anchor desk and used that as the lead-in story for the
Inside 7
weekly broadcast.
Inside 7
weekly broadcast.
The large conference room that was chilly when Alexis first entered with her Frappicino, and last minute research was now warmed with the energy of the
Inside 7
production staff. A large calendar with tentative show ideas was written in red marker on a white board.
Inside 7
production staff. A large calendar with tentative show ideas was written in red marker on a white board.
“Well, I have some ideas to kick around, so I will know in what direction to move in for my series next week,” Alexis said. She figured since Mark Shaw, the Executive Producer, and his assistant, Martie, looked comfortable in their chairs with their share of sugar-rush snacks at their side, that she should go for it. She held up her all-important Blackberry. “My source at the department told me that they are in the process of extraditing Charley Thompson, who is the deacon at Harvest Baptist Church, from Louisiana. They are charging him with arson in the Harvest Baptist Church case. They think they've got their man.”
Alexis placed her Blackberry directly in front of her on the table as was the custom of everyone else in attendance in respect to their unofficial keep-your-device-where-we-can see-it, no texting during the meeting rule. She couldn't help but smile at how she bought someone off in Chief Rich's office after the captain himself called to ream her out about forcing Willie Green in the frame of her last interview to spite him. And Martie said her Starbucks gift cards wouldn't work as a bribe. She was no longer afraid of his threats. They were hollow at best. He was just desperate to solve his case.
There was rambling around the table from some of the other writers and production assistants. Alexis heard one say, “I guess she's never going back to the beat.”
“Great, so next week we'll be wrapping this horse and pony show up,” Lizzy said, spinning her finger around for emphasis.
Alexis's thoughts were swarming. “Not yet, I don't think we should rush it. I hate those reports that show shots of a suspect taken in the jail or taken to and from court before anything is officially ruled. Then you have barely enough footage to be called a photo and barely enough accurate information to be called a caption. We might as well be print journalists for that kind of reporting. There is a process to formally charging someone and a window of time before that information becomes official. But in the meantimeâ”
“Basically, you are going to drag this out as far as possible, and we are supposed to reserve airtime for you,” Lizzy said, cutting her off. She looked to Mark for back up as if Alexis had just made a ridiculous request.
“So do they think Abe Townsend is involved?” Martie Hamilton asked with a wink in Alexis's direction.
“Oh yeah, that's the lunched-out preacher, right?” someone else commented.
“The website got so many hits after that interview of people trying to access the back-story, and emails doubled trying to help the poor cat out,” Martie continued.
“Pastor Abe, I'm sure, is making plans for a bigger church. His membership has increased, and they have already outgrown the daycare. They are holding service at Central High School auditorium now.
“You could do a follow-up on him or that other preacher that left the church, Green,” commented Maisy Day, the technical assistant.
In Alexis's excitement, she shared that Pastor Willie and Pastor Vanessa were expecting. Willie had shared the information with her in confidence when she called back to tell him they had Roy's bail set at $5,000. He seemed consumed by the time he met her at the station. She felt guilty overshadowing his happiness with such bad news. Their concern was where Roy would go when they paid for his release. He couldn't stay with her, so she left that burden on Pastor Willie as they left Roy with the âthree hots and a cot' for the next night or two down at Central Booking.
“That stud. What is he like, fifty?” someone called out and roused scattered laughter.
“Wait a minute, guys, let's keep that under wraps. I shouldn't have shared his business,” Alexis said, although she doubted any of the people she worked with hung in the same circle as Willie or Vanessa Green.
“Maybe Alexis should do a recap of the pastor's ending with a follow-up since the public was generally interested. Get their reactions on this new information about the deacon. Plant a flag on this exclusive information so the other stations will know we had it first. That would give enough time for charges to be filed against this Thompson fellow and a trial date to be set.” Mark swiveled his chair toward Alexis. “Congratulations, Montgomery,” Mark Shaw said to a modest round of applause from everyone except Lizzy.
“But sir, I have an even more pressing story. It's an investigative probe into the supposed Drug Taskforce and the subsequent sting operations between the DC mayor's office and surrounding Maryland counties,” Alexis said, using finger quotation marks to highlight the hypocrisy.
A few aides had come in at the same time to whisper messages to their respective staffer who would have received the message if they were allowed to use their phones. She paused until Mark, who had an aide glued to his right side sifting through his Blackberry, signaled for her to continue. “Well, just like prohibition didn't decrease alcohol consumption, this task force has spent thousands of tax payers' dollars and has done little to clean up our streets. I dare say from my research that the police are perpetuating the problem with their unfair arrest history. They are ten times more likely to convict a person for possession than they are for distribution or higher drug crimes. Any Joe Friday can arrest an addict. Take that same corridor from Lincoln Avenue that snakes down to the district line for instance. It's a known fact that drug users walk into court and get time-served in a detention center or probation with a record and the dealers walk scot-free. They wrangle the users or runners together with trumped up charges to pad the files to justify the cost of the program.”
“What?” Lizzy said as if Alexis was speaking a foreign language.
“I'm with Lizzy, way too much altitude, Montgomery” Mark said, then laughed, and when he laughed, his flunkies did also. “Bring it down to earth for us.”
“Hear me out,” Alexis said, rising from her seat. She could feel the blood coursing through her veins as she struggled to make it more palpable to the show's producer. “My piece would be a follow up on our last show because Roy Jones, the homeless preacher that I interviewed and the viewers loved, I might add, got caught up in a drug bust. They arrested him since our last show for drug possession, and I believe they are trying to tack on conspiracy charges too. He's got five co-defendants. He was swept up by these task force goons who know full well who the dealers are on this street, but won't touch them. He's getting arraigned next week. Roy told me about these quarterly sweeps and how the DA has got incentive to let some of the big fish go to continue dealing on our streets.”
“A part two?” Martie assisted.
“Yes,” Alexis said.
“Now she's Mother Theresa.” Lizzy looked as if she was about ready to slap herself she was so outdone.
“She's done her homework. Now you all know how I like the whole jailhouse interview,” Mark claimed.
“Well, he will be out on bail soon. Pastor Willie and I met with a bail bondsman, and Pastor Willie needed a day or two to petition the church for the money. The state is building a case against Roy, and he could be wrongly accused,” Alexis said, holding her breath. “Any drug that he would have on him would be the sealed single-serving size issued to him at the rehab clinic I featured in my piece.”
“I can see it. One week he's on the street preaching, the next he's taking us into the drug underworld,” Martie explained.
Mark sat back and let his executive style chair drift in her direction. “You think you're ready for something like this, Montgomery?”
“I am. I played it too safe last time. I will present the court statistics and keep the interview strictly first person. It will be from his lips to the camera's lens.”
“Extend an invitation for someone from the taskforce to respond. Don't let them off easy either. Drill them about the Jones case in particular. See what you uncover. Who knows, you might just get him off,” Mark said.
That was her intention, Alexis thought, taking his comments as the go-ahead she needed. With that she sat down.
“It's the
Inside 7
segment with Alexis and Lizzy,” someone remarked.
Inside 7
segment with Alexis and Lizzy,” someone remarked.
Lizzy shot a threatening look around the table, stopping, of course, at Mark.
“She has redesigned the format since doing her series. Instead of the three seven-minute segments where we barely covered anything thoroughly, Alexis has covered a heck of a lot in ten to fifteen minutes,” Mark boasted. “What you got for your lead-in, Lizzy?”
This caught her off guard, but she quickly recovered. “I think I should cover the extradition of the arsonist at the top of the show. It's only responsible journalism to keep the public updated on an on-going story.”
It was Alexis's turn to pass out a threatening look. How dare Lizzy try to finish off a story that she had begun. Lizzy met her stare with a smug look of her own.
“All right then, keep me posted,” Mark said, waving the Blackberry that was now in his hand as he adjourned the meeting.
A sense of dread came over Alexis as she gathered her things from the table. Forget Lizzy London and her insecurities. Let her have the Charley Thompson story if Alexis could pull off the story she just pitched and prove Roy innocent in the process. She had bigger fish to fry; if only she had the pan of hot grease.
Chapter 18
A New Attitude
The moon traded places with the sun as day gave way to night. It was so bright and so high in the sky, yet to Abe, it didn't seem unattainable. He was with Blanche. Being with her started his ascent toward the sky. Then she clasped her hand with his, and he was there. He didn't know what to make of this obvious step toward affection and decided to get comfortable in this new spot in the universe.
Blanche had arranged for him to get measured for a new robe earlier in the day at the insistence that his old one was hideous and unacceptable. She accompanied him to the uniform shop. There he received a call from his Aunt Elaine to say that his Uncle Charley had been turned over to state police and that she was home for good after being forced to Louisiana with his uncle. He was held on the grounds that the state had enough evidence to prosecute him for the arson of the Harvest Baptist Church fire. Blanche was gracious enough to go with him to pay his aunt a visit instead of dining out as they had planned.
Abe felt oddly like a man who was bringing his girlfriend to meet the family for the first time as he held her hand there on his aunt and uncle's front stoop. For a split second he questioned his decision to bring Blanche into his family's turmoil, especially not knowing what physical state they'd find his aunt in after being secluded with her batterer of a husband for two weeks. He was still squeamish at the vision of his Uncle Charley aiming the heel of his shoe toward his aunt's head. All fears were put to rest when they were met with a surprisingly fresh-faced and hospitable Elaine Thompson who acted as if she had been waiting on company all day.
No introductions were necessary as Abe soon realized that Blanche and his Aunt Elaine knew each other from the church before the rift and split. They exchanged words that could be considered pleasantries. His aunt immediately fixed them a plate of fresh pulled pork shoulder and coleslaw on a Kaiser roll and served it on two TV trays so they could join her in the living room.
“I was watching the news in here half way expecting to see your uncle's face and hear them talking about bringing us back from down South. I tell you them parish police swarmed on us like bees to a hive. Your uncle was driving and decided to take a light. Tell me why he did that? He didn't see that police car sitting in the cut to the right as we passed. I thought we had gotten away, but they must have run his tags, 'cause before you know it, he came after us. Then two other cars came. Seem like from every direction. When Charley finally stopped they told him to get out the car. They had a warrant out for his arrest back home here,” Elaine Thompson said without prompting. She had her dinner napkin in hand pressed against her heart to still it. Her soft and airy voice was stretched to capacity trying to relay the emotions.
“We spent like six hours at the station down there. That was Thursday night. Then they loaded him up like lettuce on a produce truck and took him off in handcuffs.”
Abe noticed her grab her wrist and begin rubbing it as she spoke. The terror of the situation was apparent in her eyes. He was unaccustomed to her being so chatty.
“They took me down to the station and asked me more questions than they did on the street there,” she continued. “At first they were going to release me until I told them I didn't have no place to go without the key from your uncle; that Maryland was my home and not your grandmother's property. I wasn't up for no two-day drive. Come to find out Maryland State Police wanted possession of the car anyway. They helped me get my things and got me on a flight to Charleston, South Carolina. From there I got on another flight home. I just got in something after nine this morning.”
“I'm glad you are all right,” Abe said.
Everything from the beige floral print wallpaper to the threadbare carpet was the same. It was just strange to see his aunt sitting in his uncle's chair staring into the TV screen the way his Uncle Charley had every time he came to visit. Abe wanted to uproot her, but it was too late. That transplant should have taken place a long time ago. He wished she could know how guilt-ridden he was. “I'm sorry you had to go through all this, Aunt Elaine; really, I am.”
“It must have been horribly frightening,” Blanche threw in on piggy-back.
“Frightening is being in this house alone. I didn't expect that.” She looked around at the walls. “Sure didn't expect to miss him.”
“Well, he's still your husband no matter what has happened or will happen,” Blanche tried to reassure her.
His aunt stared at Blanche and slowly nodded her head in agreement with that statement as if Blanche had read her mind. “They've got him now and his car too. Didn't even let me have that. Doggone it if they didn't know the moment I would arrive before I get a call from the station asking me to come in later on this morning for questioning. I could hardly sleep, and I declare I only ate one time between Louisiana and the time I got home. Twenty-three hours. I came in hungry as the dickens, and ate just about everything I could spot. I saw that shoulder I started two weeks ago.” Elaine pointed toward their plates. “We left in such a hurry, you know, I had to shove it in the refrigerator. That shoulder has been sitting in vinegar relish all that time, so I know it's tender. I put it on as soon as I got in, turned the stove on low, went to sleep, got up and went back down to the station. Let it cook all day. I wish I could have brought some to Charley. See if he'd like that. Yes indeedy, see if he'd like that.”
“It's delicious.” Blanche's eyes wandered as if she didn't know what else to say. They traded smiles like they had formed some kind of kinship.
“Aunt Elaine,” Abe said, trying to focus her attention back on the case. He couldn't believe she even wanted to think about her husband let alone cook for him. He chalked it up to battered woman syndrome to continue to cherish a man that had hurt her.
Abe wasn't certain if his uncle had burned the church down and didn't want to carry his aunt back to painful memories of her abduction to find out what she knew. He needed to know that his uncle wouldn't be released to harm her again, that his punishment would be more then missing out on a pork shoulder dinner. “What are the police saying? What did Uncle Charley say?”
“Your Uncle Charley ain't saying anything. He said he didn't want to speak to anyone, so he's not, and they're not letting him go neither. Heard the officer say they was waiting on the chief to formally charge him with something, 'cause they couldn't chance letting him go.”
“He's a flight risk,” Blanche commented. “He's proven that, and that alone is enough to keep him.”
That seemed to make his aunt breathe easier. “I answered all the captain's questions, and I suspect I'll be answering some more questions before it is all said and done. They said they would be putting Charley in touch with a public defender. Hopefully by then Charley would stop being so stubborn and speak.”
“If not, then I figure the facts will speak for themselves,” Blanche interjected.
Abe wondered what the facts were. They had two separate cases here; abuse and arson. Even though one didn't necessarily have anything to do with the other, it spoke to his uncle's character. Abe figured if his aunt could hide the reality of her abuse from her family and friends at church, what was to prevent her from holding some vital piece of evidence to protect her husband?
“Did you tell them?” Abe said, being purposely vague.
“About the metal box?” she questioned.
“No, about you and Uncle Charley,” Abe said, trying to spare her feelings in front of Blanche although he had already told her of his uncle's abuse toward his aunt.
“I think you should bring the metal box back here where you found it. I was wrong for letting you take it. They might search the house.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Abe said.
“What metal box?” Blanche demanded to know, her eyebrows forming sharp peeks with concern.
“Bring it tomorrow after church, you hear?” His aunt's eyebrows made their own peaks to show she wasn't playing.
“Yes, ma'am,” Abe assured.
“What box?” Blanche persisted.
Abe's eyes pleaded with her to let it go until later. He knew she'd agree with his aunt not to be caught dead with such a critical piece of evidence. But since the police didn't have the box yet, Abe wanted to know what they did have that would hold his uncle in jail. “Aunt Elaine, did you tell them that Uncle Charley hits you?”
His aunt swallowed hard and hung her head in shame. “I wasn't going to. In fact, the parish police was relentless. They wanted to know why I would willingly leave my home if I didn't know my husband was a suspect. Made me feel like I was going to jail with Charley for a minute. All they knew is that they had a fugitive, and when I opened that car door, they thought they had two.”
“At that point I could no longer be your uncle's protector. I just told them like this, I never liked Louisiana. See this scar, here? I got this in '83 when I told Charley I didn't feel like going with him to Louisiana to his family reunion.” She brushed her hand across the inside of her forearm at a scar only she could remember and see before sweeping her hair behind her ear to reveal a fading blue-black mark between her cheek and eardrum. “But this one here I got the other day when I questioned when we would be returning home to Maryland.”
Abe rushed to her side to comfort her. Although this bruise was more than likely from his uncle's fist, visions of the shoe heel once again came flashing back. He couldn't help weeping right along with his aunt. They took a moment to get themselves together. Blanche patted him on the back and lent her support as he sat on the couch next to her.
“The chief told me earlier today to say the word and he'd add assault charges on top of the abduction and everything else he got coming to him,” she said and looked at Abe as if it were his decision to make.
“This latest development is sure to make it on the news soon. Tomorrow is Ministry of Support Sunday too,” Blanche said as if the implications any story on the church would have on her pet project was clear to everyone.
“I'll see you all in church then. You know your uncle ain't even looked in the direction of a church while we were away. That is one of the things I missed the most about being away from home; that along with central air conditioning.”
“Maybe she should think again about attending church,” Blanche said, turning toward Abe. “I've sent out press releases to all the major papers.”
“Why in the world would I stay away from church after what I've been through?” Elaine Thompson said, her right arm rising to her hip.
“You know church folk with their snide comments and gossiping. I'm trying to think about your feelings and privacy. It may be too much for you to deal with considering the circumstances. I strongly suggest you reconsider and let a little time pass before rejoining the congregation.”
“Did I miss something?” his aunt said with a brassiness he didn't recognize. “Does Harvest Baptist have a new first lady I wasn't aware of? Although I know this one here has been vying for that position long before you came to be pastor.”
“Blanche has been helping our church regain its integrity and image since the fire. She's responsible for the increase in membership and support to our congregation,” Abe said in her defense.
“Uh-huh, well, I appreciate her concern, but tell her I just got out from under one thumb, I don't need the fingerprint of another one,” his usually meek aunt said to him as if Blanche had all of a sudden disappeared. “I plan to make my own decisions, and I plan to go to my church. If anything, people should see me praising the Lord my God in spite of what is going on.”
His aunt grabbed their plates and excused herself to the kitchen under the spotlight of Blanche's astonished stare. Like the picture on the wall above the television, something was slightly askew. Abe certainly understood where the burst of assertiveness in his aunt was coming from, but wondered why it never burst free before now.
“That woman is a loose cannon. Talk to her, Abe,” Blanche said. “I'm serious. No one wants to support a church with a lot of chaos going on. The family scandal needs to stay under wraps as long as possible, or at least until after The Ministry of Support Sunday. We've worked too hard to have your aunt be the center of attention airing her dirty laundry at devotional.”
Abe signaled to Blanche to calm down as he checked up on his aunt in the kitchen. He didn't know whether he agreed with Blanche or his aunt. Surely he could see both sides. He laid his hands on his aunt's shoulder. The rest of her arm was elbow deep in sudsy dish water.
“Y'all gone now?” was her way of asking were they leaving. Her voice saturated with her cares. He did want another glass of sweet iced tea, but kissed her on the cheek instead as a good-bye gesture and told her he would see her tomorrow.
Abe was thankful for the quiet drive back to his apartment, and even more thankful that Blanche had not questioned him about the metal box. He had a lot on his mind, including what he was going to do for sermon material the next day. This entire situation with his aunt's emancipation had him thinking about the Beatitudes.
A New Identity and a New Attitude,
he tried out as a sermon title.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven . . . Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
He immediately thought about his aunt. There were many highs and lows ahead of her, but God had her covered with the fruit of inheritance. But it was the next verse that kept playing in his mind.
Blessed are those that hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.
The verse wasn't talking about the thirst satisfied with a refill of iced tea.
A New Identity and a New Attitude,
he tried out as a sermon title.
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven . . . Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
He immediately thought about his aunt. There were many highs and lows ahead of her, but God had her covered with the fruit of inheritance. But it was the next verse that kept playing in his mind.
Blessed are those that hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.
The verse wasn't talking about the thirst satisfied with a refill of iced tea.
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