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Authors: Dijorn Moss

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BOOK: The Retreat
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Chapter Ten

Jamal tried to call Quincy after they'd met for dinner earlier, but all he got was Quincy's voice mail. The news of his separation from Karen and his abrupt departure from dinner were causes of concern for Jamal. After he hung up the phone, Jamal went back into Jamir's room.

Jamal had made sure to get a two-bedroom apartment. He guessed that in light of what had transpired thus far this week, he could move into a smaller apartment. He would save $300 a month on rent with a one-bedroom as opposed to a two-bedroom. He could stay with a two-bedroom and turn the second bedroom into his office, but that would require him to move Jamir's stuff out. That would be too much to do, but if he saved his money then maybe he could look into getting a house in a year or two.

Jamir was not his biological son and Jamal ached at the thought. Though he could have a close relationship with him, eventually, he and Chantel would have to tell Jamir the truth. Now, every time Jamir called him Daddy, Jamal felt like he was endorsing a lie. The Bible talks about the truth setting people free; but Jamal could not see it. The truth was that Jamir's real daddy died in cold blood and Jamal was responsible. The truth was that his mother and everyone involved in bringing him into the world were irresponsible little kids. How could that truth be anything but devastating to a young boy? This was the point when God's will was beyond Jamal's understanding. How come God could not let this boy be his son?

The situation was even more complicated by the fact that Jamal would give anything to be with Chantel. He noticed how neither he nor Chantel had engaged in a serious relationship since high school.

Deep down they were perfect for each other, but the last time they were together, a life had been destroyed. They'd made an unspoken vow not to go down the road of a serious relationship again. Instead, Jamal and Chantel chose to focus their attention on Jamir. And a love that powerful cannot be joined together, but must remain apart. Jamal turned on his flat-screen TV, set to engage in his latest conquest of Call of Duty. Jamal was very frugal, but he still had full indulgences, entertainment being one of them. The Bible warns about an idle mind, and usually this was the time of night when Jamal would be tempted to see what was on Cinemax. Around this time, the channel was notorious for showing soft-core porn. He loved God with all his heart, but the flesh craved satisfaction. Jamal's thoughts started to drift toward Mylessa and her proposal.

Since becoming a Christian, Jamal had been pretty good about abstaining from sex outside of marriage. In the beginning, Jamal still had a ferocious appetite that caused him to indulge in a few women a week, including several women at his job. One thing led to another, and word got around about his above-average performance in bed, because the next thing Jamal knew, a lot of women at the office began to take an interest in him. Jamal fasted and prayed until he nearly passed out, but eventually he was able to develop enough discipline to not give the devil even a foothold.

Jamal changed the channel, and as a result, he turned the TV off. He did not want his son to be exposed to pornography at a young age like he had been by his own father.

His son? Yes, Jamal had been there since his birth and had raised Jamir like a father would raise his son, but Jamir was not his son. Well, at least not biologically. Something about that revelation caused a disconnect with Jamal.

The news had brought a change. Jamal now had the freedom to leave Chantel and Jamir, and put the past behind him. Maybe this was God trying to signal to him that it was time to move on, and that maybe there was something better in store for him. Jamal never realized how strong a family tie was when the same blood flows through two people's veins, as opposed to just an emotional and psychological connection.

Jamir started not to feel like Jamal's own. He cringed at the thought that his separation was starting so soon. Jamal really needed answers. He did not know if he would get them during the Men's Retreat. God needed to intervene.

 

They arrived just after three in the morning. While Chauncey was exhausted, fear had made an impact on his sleep. Since Chauncey served on the Men's Retreat committee, he'd received his cabin key early, so he and Will were able to go straight to the room. But for most of the journey and since their arrival, Will had not said much. Even now, he just sat in the chair in the room, staring off into space, not even talking.

“You're not tired?” Chauncey asked Will.

“I don't sleep much. I'm always on the grind, and in my neighborhood, you go to sleep hearing sirens and helicopters. It's too quiet here. It makes me a little nervous.”

“Trust in Jesus, He'll give you rest.”

“Jesus never lived in the hood, so I doubt that!”

Maybe it had been a mistake for Chauncey to bring Will. He seemed to be diametrically opposed to the things of God. One could only hope that tomorrow the Retreat would start to work on his heart.

“You have to get at least eight hours of sleep. Your heart is working overtime. You could have a heart attack by the time you're thirty,” Chauncey said.

“I might not even be around when I'm thirty. There's a lot more stuff for me to worry about than a heart attack.”

“I'm going to pray for you. I'm going to bind that spirit in the name of Jesus!”

Will took out his gun and placed it in his lap. He gave Chauncey a smirk. “Just make sure you keep it down. Just because I don't sleep doesn't mean that I want to hear all of that praying stuff.”

Chauncey figured he would exercise wisdom and pray silently. He'd never felt fear like he had felt today. God must have had something greater for him. That's why the devil was attacking him so hard. If this young man was an example, well, Chauncey refused to live in fear. Chauncey believed that he could save Will's life, and Chauncey needed to trust God in spite of his doubts.

“Why did you decide to come if you didn't want to have anything to do with Jesus?” Chauncey asked.

Chauncey's question caused Will to put his head down, like his only solace came from the floor. Finally, Chauncey may have said something that resonated with Will's conscience.

“It's like every day I get in a corner and I start swinging. But I learned a long time ago that I'm not fighting to get out; I'm just trying to keep the walls from closing in. You gave me a chance to get out, and maybe for once in my life it won't feel like a dogfight.”

And like a gunslinger from a Western, Will stood up with his gun and walked over to his nightstand. Only he was not about to discharge his weapon, but laid it down on the shelf. Even Chauncey had to marvel at the display of a warrior surrendering his weapon, even if it was only for a weekend.

Chapter Eleven

A beautiful metallic '67 Chevy sat in a frail garage with the paint chipping away and the door off of its hinges. With the hood up, the car stood not in flawless shape, but anyone with a speck of knowledge about car history would know that this car was a classic. It took the smell of hazelnut to remind Jamal that his purpose was to drop off breakfast to his father before he headed to the retreat. He also had an ulterior motive and that was to get his advice on what to do about the situation with Chantel and Jamir. His father had forewarned him about fooling around with Chantel, and though he could predict how this conversation would play out, Jamal still had to try.

“She's a beauty!” Jamal said.

A burly man with a bald head emerged from under the hood. He closed the hood and wiped his hands off on an orange, dirty towel. “I just had its oil changed. I was thinking about taking it out for a drive along the coast.”

Jamal scanned the wall at the pictures that had kept his father company since he was a child. He had pictures of naked women on top of cars, pictures of naked women with beer bottles in their hands, and just plain old pictures of naked women. Despite the collage of women, Jamal knew that the most beautiful thing in the garage was the '67 Chevy.

“Maybe we can hop in and head to the Men's Retreat,” Jamal said as he handed his father his coffee.

“I don't know about that. All those men hugging and crying on each other…seems a little sweet to me,” his father said sarcastically as he sipped his cup of joe.

“That's not what the Men's Retreat is about. It's about recognition of the broken areas in your life and letting God come in.”

“A man ain't got no business crying in front of another man. That's why I'm concerned about you. I don't see you with no girlfriend. You still be running behind Clay's old chick.”

“I'm about my B.I.,” Jamal said.

“I was about my business too, but it didn't stop me from being a playa from the Himalayas.”

“I know. I could hear my mother crying from the next room, because it was another night that you didn't come home.”

Jamal knew he had crossed the line by bringing up his deceased mother. When she'd died two years ago, Jamal promised his father that he wouldn't talk about his mother around him. He regretted that promise, because all it did was allow his father to avoid talking about his shame. Jamal could not stand the sight of his father being proud of his actions.

“Son, there's some things in a marriage you can't understand that's only between a man and a woman.”

“Well, Mother must not have gotten the memo, because she didn't understand either,” Jamal said.

His father got up and raised his hand to smack him, but Jamal was not a little boy and his size and stature matched his father's. After a moment that bordered on eternity, his father lowered his hand. Jamal was convinced that his father might not fare well in the exchange.

“I'm trying to tell you something for your own good, but you go on and do what you want,” his father snapped.

Wanting to switch subjects, Jamal tried to find something positive to talk about. “I got offered the promotion.”

“Well, that's good. More money in your pocket never hurt nobody.”

“I don't know if I'm going to take it.”

“What you mean you don't know? Have I missed something here or aren't you a single father?”

“I found out the other day that I'm not.”

Jamal's father's reaction was a shock to say the least. He flashed a smile and gave a reluctant Jamal a fist bump.

“Well, you're in the game then! What you tripping for?”

“For three years I treated Jamir as if he was my son. I can't just flick my feelings on and off like a light switch.”

“I'm not saying you have to, but at least you don't have to worry about that broad trying to take advantage of you.”

Jamal hated whenever his father talked about Chantel like she was a two-dollar hooker. His father couldn't handle a good woman, and that had been evident throughout his marriage.

“Don't disrespect Chantel like that. She's a good woman and a great mother.”

“Is that why she let both you and your best friend hit that?”

“We were kids back then and we didn't know any better.”

“Never trust a redbone! She proved that she's not above lying to you and now that you have an out, take it.”

Jamal did not care for his father's archaic opinions. But, for once, he was making some sense. If there was one thing that his father was an expert on, it was scandalous women.

“I just don't know if I want to be a slave to a company. I mean, my purpose in life is not simply to work and cash a check.”

“You have got to be the dumbest person I know. You're tripping over a kid who ain't yours and now you about to let that mess with your money.” His father set the coffee down on the counter next to the radio. He then reopened the hood. “You can do what you want, but you can't say I didn't warn you.”

Those was usually his father's last words after every visit. Of course, this Friday was different. Jamal was getting ready to head out of town and he was still no closer to an answer than before.

The sound of Jamal's phone signaled that he had a new text message. Jamal checked his phone, and he was elated that the message was from Quincy:

Going to the Retreat. I'll pick you up in an hour.

—Q

Chapter Twelve

Jamal was excited about being able to ride up to the Retreat with Quincy. Last night's dinner had not left Jamal with an optimistic view of Quincy and his relationship with God. In fact, Jamal really admired Quincy for wanting to go to the Retreat despite all that was going on at home. Jamal didn't know if he could attend a church event with his marriage being on the rocks. He had a lot of things to talk about, and did not necessarily want to sit in the car quietly and wait until they arrived at the Retreat.

“I'm sorry I cut out early the other night. I was finishing up some important business,” Quincy said.

“Don't trip! Trust me, I know how it is. I'm just glad that you changed your mind about coming to the Retreat. Last I heard there was plenty of space available for last-minute registration,” Jamal replied.

“Yeah, I haven't been to church in a minute, and I actually like the Men's Retreat. The church does a good job of picking out nice locations. I brought my golf clubs, so I can hit a few balls while I'm out there.”

“I'm sorry to hear about you and Karen,” Jamal said in a soft tone.

“What can you do? I mean, sometimes it's just not meant to work out. You have to move on. I still got a whole lot of living to do. So I'll just pick myself up and keep going.”

“I know that things are rough for you, and I admire that you're still pressing forward. That's why I like to stay close to you. I figured, since you're in a place where I am trying to go, you could give me some great advice about my situation regarding my career and my son.”

“So you're wondering which path to choose, career or fatherhood?”

Jamal did not see his situation as black or white. Yes, he was making a decision whether to advance his career or maintain the relationship he currently had with Jamir. The DNA test results made his situation even more difficult. However, Jamal considered whether the advancement of his career would provide a better situation. He no longer had any obligations to Jamir or Chantel. But the genetic separation and the emotional separation were of two different playing fields.

“I admire you,” Quincy said.

“Why?” Jamal asked, taken aback.

“For most men it's not a choice. They would buy a Range Rover and wave to their kids in the distance. But you're a man of honor and integrity.”

“So what do you think I should do?”

Quincy shrugged. “I think you should start your own business. I tell young guys like you all the time that now is the time, when you're young, to go into business for yourself. Don't depend on another man for your paycheck. As far as my situation goes, maybe I wouldn't be having the problems I am having now if I'd spent more time with my family, so go for it. Let your employer know that you cannot accept a promotion that would take time away from you and your son.”

Jamal felt the need for full disclosure, but the mere thought cautioned him to fall back. He and Quincy had a decent relationship as prayer partners, but to disclose the truth about Jamir not being his real son would leave Jamal wide open.

At the same time, if Jamal expected to get sound advice from his prayer partner, then he would have to be honest.

“There is something that has come up that has complicated things a little bit,” Jamal said.

Quincy motioned for Jamal to continue.

“Jamir is not my son.”

The statement caused a minor swerve of Quincy's car as he looked at Jamal as if the Loch Ness Monster stood behind him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! You mean to tell me you're in limbo over a child who's not yours? How can that be?”

“It's a long story and it's not the point. For two years I have loved this boy like he's my own; I can't just up and disappear.”

It was an understatement to say that Jamal regretted making his secret known to Quincy. His stomach turned into a pretzel as he zeroed in on the pine air freshener in Quincy's car. His skin rejected the nutmeg leather interior and started to itch.

“You've got to be kidding me. You're taking care of another man's kid?” Quincy said.

“It's a little more complicated than that.”

“Obviously!” Quincy put both hands on the steering wheel and leaned forward as he shook his head. “J, you're too young to be worried about someone else's kid, especially since you're not with the mother.”

“I've been around the kid his whole life. Like I said, I can't up and disappear.”

“I ain't trying to be funny or nothing, but to commit career suicide is foolish. Now is not the time to be noble, now is the time to be practical. You're young, give yourself time to develop your career, then start a family. Take it from me with a daughter in college; it ain't easy being a family man.”

Quincy had a tendency to be adamant, but Jamal was not use to seeing Quincy this adamant. He knew he meant the best, but he expected more optimism from someone who had been married for twenty years and had a daughter in college.

“I mean, you're young. You don't need to be weighed down with those types of responsibilities. If you learn nothing else from me, then at least learn that marriages don't last. Can you imagine where I would've been if I hadn't invested so much in my career? I would have really been messed up.”

“I know, I know, but in my heart something is telling me to not abandon him. What if he turns out to be a menace to society?”

“I'm not saying not to help him, but how do you think you're helping him by lying?”

“Because the truth is whack!” Jamal shrugged.

“What is the truth?” Quincy asked.

He had said too much. He was embarrassed at how the conversation had unfolded, so, instead, he reclined his seat and folded his arms.

“Nothing, man, it's a long story.”

 

Quincy could not believe his ears. He always saw Jamal as a sharp young man, a good father, and a hard worker. In so many ways Quincy admired Jamal because he lacked the discipline and focus that Jamal demonstrated in every aspect of his life. Quincy would not even dare say he was half the Christian Jamal was, and that was okay with him. Quincy fell into Christianity as a way to appease his sanctified wife. He had trouble being fully committed to the Christian doctrine. He desired to stay relevant. Jamal, on the other hand, seemed like someone who was fully immersed in scripture, and was willing to carry out his life according to biblical principles.

In light of recent events, Quincy had decided to be like God, and love from a distance. After this weekend, he did not even plan to step foot into God's house ever again. This Retreat would mark the end of Quincy's journey as a Christian.

He had one last task to do, and that was expose this phony A-MOG for the fraud he was. Quincy traveled and took bites into a once juicy red apple that had started to turn mushy during the course of the journey. In his periphery he saw the jagged mountains turn into tall redwood trees. The wide fourlane road that his Range Rover cruised upon turned into a narrow two-lane road.

This would also be the last time he and Jamal would get to spend together. Quincy planned to cut off all lines of communication from anyone who attended Greater Anointing. He never really saw himself as someone who needed to depend on another man anyway.

That was the great thing about being a man. Unlike women, men could stand alone if need be, and most obstacles in life required that a man do so.

BOOK: The Retreat
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