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The Devil Made Me Do It Page 16
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Lawton trotted back into the house before the food got any colder. He was placing the food on the table when Esther hobbled into the kitchen and sat. She looked at the food and broke into a wide smile.
“Sir, you definitely know the way to a woman’s heart. This looks delicious. Nobody I know makes black-eyed peas with shrimp salad better than the first lady of our church, Sister Gregory. But by the looks of things, somebody is giving her a run for her money.” Esther spooned food onto her plate with gusto.
Lawton hesitated but wanted to be honest. “To tell the truth, I don’t know who made the dinner.”
Esther stopped serving herself midspoonful and replaced her spoon in the bowl. “Chile, I can’t eat when I don’t know who prepared it.”
Lawton grinned and shook his head. “That’s not true. You eat at restaurants, don’t you?”
“Well, yes, but . . .” Esther frowned. “Hmmph, you got me with basic common sense.”
“See? Anyway, a friend of yours dropped it by, so I’m sure it’s safe.”
“Who?” Esther said puzzled.
Lawton observed Esther for her reaction. “An Armani suit-wearing brother said you’re friends. Name is Riggs?”
Esther smiled and corrected him. “Briggs?”
“So you do know him, huh?” Lawton relaxed when she showed no signs of anything out of order.
Esther stood and hobbled to serve him a glass of ice tea, and then herself. She sat down with her head bowed to bless the food. When she raised her head she found Lawton staring. “You okay?”
Lawton was lost in thought. “You have a servant’s heart,” he said in awe. “That’s truly a gift from God. The ability to be humble in service to others.”
Esther blushed, gave a small smile, and kept eating. She glanced over at Lawton. “You’re staring.”
He nodded. “You’re nice to stare at.”
Esther laid down her fork. “You’re making me uncomfortable.”
“Then, I’ll stop,” Lawton said and began to eat his food.
“No doubt about it,” Esther proclaimed, “This black-eyed pea salad is the work of Sister Gregory. Um, um, um . . .” she moaned.
Lawton burst out laughing, reached across the table, and startled Esther by taking her hand. “Don’t look like a deer in the headlights. I’m just feeling all is right in my world, and I wanted to share a little of that affection with you, okay?”
“Okay,” Esther said with satisfaction and picked up her fork and continued her splendid meal.
“Are there no real men left in the world? What kind of wimps settle their differences with a handshake? His wife stands him up, the one he longs for has found someone else, and he goes home like a gentle soul. Where is his thugged-out anger?” The Leader whined.
His mentor stood four inches over The Leader’s height. He lifted his long gargantuan tail over his shoulder and delicately brushed it across his brow. He peered over at The Leader and sighed deeply. “Stop,” he rattled with authority.
“Yes, Most High Leader.”
“I believe you are whining. However, I must be wrong, because leaders do not whine. We are decisive, bold, and strategic. In addition, our attributes include being treacherous, deceitful, and diabolical,” The Most High Leader said with imperial flourish. He then jeered as his tail snapped back in rigid attention. “But we never, ever, ever, whine! Therefore, I didn’t hear you sniveling over a little setback!”
“Oh no, I am planning Briggs’s ruination as we speak. I spoke without thinking, Most High. Briggs is a done deal. It’s just my helpers; they are so incompetent.”
“Then send them down to the furnace and get new help. New souls are promised every day. Be about our master’s business. No more excuses.”
“Yeeesss,” hissed The Leader as he turned to leave.
“By the way,” Most High said to The Leader’s back.
The Leader stood stock-still and rotated his large head in deliberate increments until he faced Most High. He waited, impatient for his esteemed mentor to expound.
“Never fail me again. Tsk! You are proving to be a big disappointment. I will not mentor a failure.”
The Leader slithered out. He was headed to the war room, to review tried-and-true strategies that worked in the past. At the stone entrance, he placed his claw on the engraved scripted marble. The sizzle of his burnt skin could be heard as the wall moved to reveal tombs that were as old as time. Only those who held the status of leader or higher could access this room. He began at the beginning of the list, starting with the fall of Adam—the ruin of mankind, and moved with craftiness down the rows of ash-crusted volumes. His large clawed finger stopped, and his huge fanged teeth grinned at his luck. He hurried and opened the tomb, relishing the sulfuric dust that rose from its pages. With mischievous glee, he laid the book open and crafted his next move.
Chapter Twenty-four
Wireless cell phones all across the Motor city were flying with scandalous news like brand-new Cadillacs off the assembly line. Each caller had heard how Abigail’s empty tittle-tattle was validated by one of Esther’s neighbors. She swore she saw with her own eyes, Pastor Stokes going into Esther’s home on Friday night carrying groceries. And when she honked her horn, he brazenly waved. Since she was such a reliable source, everything else Abigail insinuated became true, and soon, every meeting Briggs and Esther had was a torrid affair of the heart. Each time the tale was told, it worsened. As the weekend unfolded, imps danced, sat on shoulders, and spoke into uncovered ears and hearts.
The Eggbeaters, one slice of unbuttered toast, and the snippet of parsley looked forlorn on the fine china plate. Mother Reed pushed the food with her fork. “Phyllis, I appreciate you coming over here on a Saturday morning, but, I don’t care how nice this plate is. This here food ain’t enough to fill up a pea and looks just as tasteless. I might as well be eating paper.”
“I did do the best I could,” Phyllis said.
Mother Reed softened her tone. “Chile, Mother is trying to get her taste buds to follow her mind and get in line with this new ‘heart smart’ diet.”
Phyllis put her hands on her hips. “I know it’s a change, but we want to have you with us. A mild heart attack is a warning sign, so this is what we have to do.” Phyllis started moving pots into the sink.
“Well, baby, I guess I deserve that.” She watched Phyllis’s busy work.
“Ma’am?” Phyllis said wiping the stove with her dishrag.
“You didn’t say that any better than what I said to you in the hospital,” Mother Reed said contrite. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about either. Don’t have time for that kinda foolishness.”
“No, ma’am. It was hard for me to come here today. I felt exposed by your insight. But I love you. So here I am,” Phyllis hit the dishrag against her thigh.
Mother Reed puffed her distress. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I was under the weather and spoke out of turn.”
Phyllis nodded her acceptance. “I’m sorry I ran away. Just surprised me, that’s all.”
“Surprised me too. Li’l gal, you can move.”
Mother Reed and Phyllis looked at each other and laughed.
“We a pair, ain’t we?” Mother chortled.
Phyllis hooted. “Yes, we are.”
“So . . . you holding on?” Mother Reed asked with more laughter.
Phyllis cracked up laughing at the reference Mother Reed made to the rendition of the song, “We’ll Understand It Better By and By.” She then wiped her eyes and said, “Honestly? I was upset. Okay, the truth: I was angry, then depressed. But I received a call from Esther last night. She fell and hurt her knee Thursday. I wanted to run to her rescue, but she said no. I hung up and started praying; then I could feel in my spirit that God wanted to rescue me.”
Mother Reed slapped her knee. “That’s right. He sent His Son so we could all be rescued. I can’t promise you He’ll give you a child, but I can promise you Romans 8:28 that says, everything wo
rks together for the good of those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose. Just ride His wave, chile. Just ride.”
“Amen to that,” Phyllis answered. “Now, Mother, I’ll leave here and go to Esther’s to fix her lunch. She should be moving around better tomorrow. But before I go, I believe it’s time to eat your breakfast.”
“Um. . . um . . . um . . . you know this here meal is doggone awful.” Mother Reed’s hand clenched her fork. “Phyllis, my phone has been ringing with some slap dap foolishness. Yesterday, my window was open, and dis little boy on the corner tol’ his friend he was gon’ ‘blow it up.’ Now, if this here thang don’t get right, I’m gon’ blow it up at the church house tomorrow. I will snatch the ‘hell’ right out of Abigail Winters.”
Phyllis covered her mouth in an effort to stifle her burst of laughter. Arching her brow in response, Mother Reed daintily forked more fake eggs through her pursed lips, daintily dabbing them with her napkin.
In 1992, Abigail Winters caused a Love Zion controversy over Virginia Johnson, a thirteen-year-old girl in her Sunday School class. It was later learned that she felt it was her Christian duty to report the child’s weight gain and bloated stomach as an incestuous pregnancy. She had watched the exchange of loving looks and touches from father to daughter. When she heard the father assuring his daughter that her condition would be taken care of soon, she knew she had to act. Unfortunately, what Abigail assumed was an abortion appointment turned out to be a date with a hot water bottle and some Midol. It turned out the teary-eyed Virginia Johnson was a late bloomer experiencing her first menstrual cycle accompanied by cramps. The Love Zion fallout was monumental.
Abigail could take the whispering behind her back and even the slap across her face from Virginia Johnson’s grandmother. But the hardest thing for her to bear was the fact that she misunderstood the truth of these things.
She was only eight years old when her father first came into her room at night. He pleaded with her to be a nice little girl, rubbing her young body and crooning her name softly into her ears. Then in the brightness of the day, he ignored her as though she was the lamp on the table he could turn on or off at will. She learned to hate the sound of her name coming from a man’s lips.
It was those nights Abigail Winters cried for a mother who had run off two years before. When she left, taking Abigail’s younger sister with her, she learned her first lesson about love—people leave you when you most need them, so don’t need them. This mantra caused a bitter root to form, and evil its harvest.
Abigail never had a boyfriend, never wanted one. After her daddy, she hated three things: musk cologne, unshaven whiskers, and men. However, she had a score to settle with the Wileys, so they were all open game. It was Elizabeth Wiley who stopped the rumor concerning Virginia Johnson, and in the process, made Abigail a pariah in her own church.
Once again, Abigail had been busy. She sniggered, remembering how Esther used to bring her husband to Love Zion at the outset of their marriage. He was so easy. A word here and there about his successful wife and how awful it was that Esther was overheard talking about having to take care of everything. On the pretense of helping him, she even got Roger a job at her neighbor’s garage. She spoon-fed that fool misinformation, and he fed it to Roger. Whoever said men didn’t gossip was a liar. The night he grabbed Esther in the church parking lot, it was she who stepped out and called her neighbor to tell him Esther’s whereabouts. She knew what would happen. After all, she was the one who planted the seed that Esther was in church too much in the first place.
Chapter Twenty-five
It was Sunday morning, and the whispers of several clusters of church folk could be heard as the small group passed. As the Wiley family and Mother Reed entered the sanctuary, most of the people who were dawdling in the hall crowded in behind them. The tight-knit group found their seats and ignored any harsh glances and whispers surrounding them. They focused on God and as the praise and worship band tuned their instruments, they tuned into Him.
At ten o’ clock on the nose, the praise and worship team entered, and in no time, they were destroying the works of the enemy. For many, the shackles of doubt were falling off, and shame was being lifted from burdened shoulders because the anointing was breaking yokes. The congregation held their hands in the air and swayed from side to side, caught up in the mesmerizing voices that sung about the joys of serving Jesus.
Briggs’s previous evening was tortuous. He had to explain to the Gregorys that Monica had not shown due to illness. Mrs. Gregory looked skeptical, and Briggs didn’t blame her. She mentioned before turning in that she was glad that the food didn’t go to waste and, instead, went to Esther and her date.
He never reached Monica, and exhausted with defeat, he went into worship mode and played his favorite music until he could feel the atmosphere in his bedroom shift.
Now he sat behind the pulpit, silently praying and giving praise that the praise and worship team was setting the atmosphere for God’s Word to fall on receptive ears. Earlier, the atmosphere had been cold and heavy. But God was moving, and the people were getting free. Briggs approached the pulpit. “He’s worthy, saints! Come on and give Him some praise. He woke you up this morning in your right mind and set you on the path of righteousness. My beloved, nobody can do you like Jesus.”
The church musicians began a rousing drum and guitar melody of the song “Can’t Nobody Do You like Jesus.” Briggs sang into the microphone attached to his suit lapel as he danced across the platform; every previous hurt, pain, and rejection melted away under the healing power of his love for God.
“Beloved, I come before you today . . . humbled and in a place of peace surpassing all my understanding. If you don’t have love, you don’t have peace. Some of you got up this morning, and you forgot the reason you were headed to Love Zion. You thought you came to check out the fashions. Uh-huh. You thought it was about that juicy rumor going around. Uh-huh! But God knows. He changed the venue on the menu. Are you disappointed? The reason why is because you missed your appointment with God. He’s here. Where are you? He’s moving through the church, touching those who want to be touched. Don’t you want to be touched?”
The church got quiet as Briggs mopped his face. He could hear their souls saying, Who is this young man to tell us why we came to church? How dare he!
“Oh, I’m stepping on a few toes now. I’m ruffling some feathers, but that’s all right! I’d rather have y’all mad at me, than Jesus. Y’all can’t do to me what He can do for me.” Many of the saints were standing to their feet as Briggs brought the Word. Reverend Gregory was his amen corner. And, somebody in the back started beating their tambourine. “Here you are—fearfully and wonderfully made, yet, you’re living below the benefits of your calling. Who would take a dream job and tell their new boss, ‘That’s okay; I don’t need any benefits. I’m fine.’ Someone not quite right! Turn to your neighbor and say, ‘Get right!’ Now, turn to the neighbor on the other side and tell ’em, ‘Don’t get scared—Pastor’s taking us somewhere.’”
The congregation was hyped, and they repeated after Briggs. Those who were lukewarm had gotten off the fence and heard the trumpeting of the angel’s message; God is in the house!
Briggs could see Esther was enthralled. The Holy Spirit even let him hear her tell her sister in a whisper, “He can preach.” The faces of her family sitting next to her had the same look of pleasure.
Briggs ran across the sanctuary in joy. He was so thankful. “What’s wrong with me, you might ask. What benefits? Well, today, we want to talk about the benefit of peace. I’m talking about the peace you can have when your life is upside down. The benefit God wants to give us is when your checks are bouncing all over town, your car just broke down, and you don’t know where your wife is! Help me, Holy Ghost! It’s a supernatural peace. Stand with me for the reading of God’s Word. Turn to Philippians chapter four and let’s read versus six through eight. God wants to teach us to be anxious for nothin
g.”
Love Zion stood and opened their Bibles. Briggs read the passage that had gotten him through the night. The more he prayed, the more God poured His love down on him. Today, his cup was running over and everything that was in him poured forth to the people.
Once again, God was moving supernaturally, and Briggs could hear and see into the sanctuary as though people had microphones attached to their hearts and lapels. What was God doing?
Mother Reed opened her Bible to the yellow highlighted passage, and she laid her open palm over the words. Her countenance announced she was delighted by them. Briggs saw that this was familiar scripture for her and had stood her in good stead when God called her husband, Anthony, home. He was glad to know that peace surrounded her, even on the days when she prayed for a son she had not seen since his infancy. Briggs’s heart was full.
“You may be seated. Let us pray . . .”
Mother Reed openly nudged Esther. She placed her palm faceup. Esther took her hand, and they prayed together.
Briggs completed his prayer. “When you’re anxious, that’s a form of fear. When people are fearful, they get dangerous. It takes them into territory like unforgiveness. You sit in your dark house talking about a dark time in your life, speaking to people who have moved on, ‘I’m mad at you because you caused me sleepless nights, hurt, and pain.’ People! They have moved on! Unforgiveness causes the peace that was reigning to flee. If we want to have supernatural peace, we have to forgive supernaturally. I’m talking about stupid forgiveness. Forgiveness that makes you keep giving good for others’ evil. It’s not easy. You pray, and then pray some more . . .”
Briggs continued to preach the Word, and the people received. Many undecided hearts changed, and many decided hearts strengthened. Briggs could preach, and God was at work.
God still had His Superantenna on Briggs, and he could see that Abigail was stunned at the power of God operating in him. As he opened the altar for prayer, she was one of the first to come up.