The Devil Made Me Do It Page 6

  Esther stepped out from the group. “We’ve come to get my things.”

  “Esther, let me talk to you a minute.”

  “No,” everyone yelled.

  Esther looked back at her family, serene. “It’s all right.” She and Roger went to the side of the house, but in plain sight of everyone.

  He was fidgety and shuffled his feet. “How you gon’ just leave? You know I love you.”

  “Really? Since when, Roger?” Her eyes remained downcast, not out of fear, but because it was hard to look at the man he had become, not the one she imagined him to be. It was a mistake to marry potential, since there was a real chance it may never fulfill its purpose.

  “Okay, things got a little out of hand, but you should know how I feel. Girl, I love you so much that sometimes I get crazy with it.” He leaned low attempting to catch her eye.

  Esther continued to look down at the ground. Looking at Roger made her angry and sad all at the same time.

  He tried tilting her chin up, but she stepped away. “Look how good you’re looking this morning. All fresh and dewy.”

  “Oh, I don’t look fat this morning?” she fired back.

  “I’m sorry, Baby. I was upset. You know I like my meal with more than a little meat on it. I wanted you with me last night, and I was frustrated when I came home and you were gone.” His voice was as slick as silk and just as slippery.

  Esther looked over Roger’s left shoulder; she saw a shadow cast against the side of the house. She shivered, closed and opened her eyes several times, but it remained; the shadow of a serpent.

  The morning mist must be playing havoc on my senses, she thought. Yet, her bones were chilled. Although hazy, it was a mild morning, and intuitively, she knew her chill had nothing to do with the weather.

  “So, that’s why you slapped me, stole my money, and went out on the town?” she shot back. She felt a ripple of a chill and shivered again. In defense, she folded her arms across her chest.

  Roger’s voice slithered out like a serpent’s hiss. “See, you got to listen. I’ve been feeling bad. No job or money will jack a brother up. Sometimes a man needs to blow off a little steam. A real woman would understand that her man has needs, and she’d be ready to take care of them. If you had stayed home last night, none of this would’ve happened, and I wouldn’t have gotten mad.” He punctuated his words by pointing his finger in her face. “You . . . hurt . . . me. All of this is really your fault.”

  Esther ignored Roger’s skewed logic. She was so done with him, nothing he said mattered. But she saw it again. Was that the shadow of a snake? She took a deep breath and stepped toward it. When she moved, Roger turned and the shadow disappeared. She shook her head and silently prayed, “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’”

  Fear departed and warmth filled her soul. “I’m letting you keep the house, but we’re done. Just let go.”

  She turned away, and Roger jumped up and down in a full-fledge two-year-old tantrum. “What am I supposed to do? How can I pay the mortgage on this house? You know I don’t have a job. How will I eat? You ain’t leaving me!” he panicked and reached for her.

  Tony sprinted over, ready to intervene, but she held up her hand stopping him. “Hold up, I got this.” She stretched and rolled her neck—from the I’m an Angry Black Woman Handbook—irritated that she had to go there and that this needed to be said. “Roger, the Word says in Second Thessalonians 3:10, ‘The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat.’ Find a job, Roger; go to work.”

  Roger, desperate to refute Esther’s words, opened his mouth and gulped air, emitting dry croaking sounds. Esther scoffed, understanding he had no Word, and therefore, no weapon. In the realm of the shadows there was a hissing sound that slithered back into the earth.

  Esther directed the crowd that had shifted closer to her and Roger into the house. As she gave directions on what to do, her cousin Tamela, Tony’s youngest sister, remarked as she looked around, “Cuz, this house is hooked up. Anything you don’t want, I’ll be glad to take off your hands.”

  Tamela’s home sewn weave, long scarlet fake nails, had her shuddering thinking about her nice things in her cousin’s two-bedroom, Section Eight apartment. She knew Tamela’s three children would destroy everything before the day was out. However, this was family, and she loved her.

  Esther smiled politely. “We’ll see, Tamela. Right now, I just need to get it all out of here.”

  Before Tamela could answer, Phyllis chimed in, “And don’t none of y’all help yourself to anything you haven’t been given. All right?”

  Tamela swung her full head of swap meet hair in front of Phyllis’s face and pointed her scarlet, rhinestone finger at her. “I came here to help out of the goodness of my heart, Phyllis Wiley. So don’t ya be acting like ya better than nobody else or that me and mine steal. I coulda stayed home with my children’s daddy if I wanted to be treated bad.”

  Phyllis huffed, “My name is Phyllis Davis. I got a husband, Tamela.”

  “You need to be minding him, instead of other folk’s bizness,” Tamela flung back.

  “What did you say?”

  Esther could feel a headache coming on, and the two of them were causing it. As her brow wrinkled, she placed a hand on both women’s arm.

  “Okay, today is about me. Now, yesterday may have been about you, tomorrow may be about you, and heck, tonight, may even be your night. But today? It’s all mine, so cut the chatter and let’s just get through it.” Esther’s voice was shrill with frustration.

  Phyllis and Tamela looked at each other, and both nodded in agreement as they put their arms around Esther.

  “You know how we are.... I got you, girl,” they spoke over each other, before they broke out in a laugh.

  Tony said, “Can we move away from the drama now? A brother has things to do.”

  Roger watched with a face of despair as they organized and packed. His mouth opened in disbelief at the amount of things being brought out of the house: beds, dressers, couches, tables, pots and pans, stereo equipment, televisions, a microwave . . . all bought by Esther. As the day continued, he sat under the tree and watched as the last item was packed onto the truck.

  “We’re finished.” Esther took her key off her key chain and handed it to him. “You’ll hear from my attorney soon.” She climbed into the truck.

  Phyllis called out to Esther as she rushed past. “Hold up, sis. I forgot something.”

  She entered the living room and found Roger standing forlorn in the empty house. She hurried, jogging down his hallway. “Sorry, I forgot something.”

  Roger rolled his eyes spewing sarcasm. “What could y’all have possibly forgotten?”

  He followed Phyllis and watched her go into the bathroom. The room was bare and Roger looked on in astonishment as Phyllis bent down and released the toilet paper from its holder. She stood with a triumphant look on her face as she strutted past him with the toilet paper in her hand. Standing on the porch, Phyllis raised the roll of toilet paper as a trophy of war. Car horns blew, and the small crowd hooted and barked.

  Roger’s face was thunderous as he nailed Esther with eyes of pure hatred. They transmitted plans for revenge and future suffering . . .

  In her sleep, Esther called out in agitation. Sweat stained her nightgown, and her bedcovers twisted around her feet. She flailed her arms at unknown assailants before her body settled into rest.

  “Is she still asleep?” The Leader asked.

  “Yesssss . . . she’s remembering her time with the loser. You were so good that night, Leader. You brought chaos so close to the church,” Imp One simpered.

  “The parking lot is a first step. I wanted to plunge right into the heart of their service and destroy all I saw. For now, at that church, the parking lot is close enough. Soon, I may get closer,” The Leader said.

  “You are brilliant, yo
u are evil personified. That happened to Esther over two years ago, but still her nights are haunted by past pain. You rule, Mighty One, you rule,” Imp One cheered in his best lackey voice.

  “I see your point, insignificant toad. I thought enticing Roger to get a serpent’s tattoo was a good move. It speaks to him even today. That chapter is not closed.”

  “You see, Old Bold One? You are a master strategist. Look at her. She tosses and turns, yet, she professes He who reigns in heaven is her peace. These humans are such pretenders. She is broken, she is broken, she is—”

  The Leader’s tail curled above their heads. “Shut up, infidel. That constant repeating is making me itch to destroy something. It could easily be you.”

  “I am bad, so sorry, Leader. Should I wake her now or send more visions of shame and blame?”

  “No, we have played enough for tonight. Let her wake up and believe that all is well in her world. What I have planned for her, she will need her sleep.”

  Esther woke with tears spattered on her pillow. The past needed to stay there. Roger was history. Perspiration beaded her face, and the silk scarf she tied around her head earlier lay haphazardly on her shoulder. She shivered because she had started out dreaming about her past with Roger, but somehow she had ended up dreaming about snakes, and snakes gave her the creeps.

  Chapter Seven

  The alarm shrilled Esther awake. Last night had started out early to bed, and now she was facing the early-to-rise part.

  After her shower and dressing in a comfortable sweat suit, Esther had her morning tea. She fingered her unruly hair in the mirror and decided against taking the time to curl it; instead, she stuffed it under a fedora. Her time was limited, and she had a lot to do. When she drove off and came to a complete stop at the stop sign, she grinned, remembering Detroit’s finest.

  She was still smiling when she pulled into the parking lot of Love Zion.

  “Hey, Naomi,” Esther addressed the church secretary who sat sentry before Reverend Gregory’s office. “Is the reverend in?”

  Naomi scrutinized Esther over glasses that slipped down her pinched nose. In a dry monotone, she delivered her canned message, “Reverend is busy. If it’s not an emergency, you need to make an appointment.”

  “Naomi!” Reverend Gregory stood in his doorway, “That’s not what I instructed you to say. I simply asked you to relay the sentiment that my time is short today.”

  Naomi smacked her lips and yanked up knee-high stockings that rolled down her chocolate reed-thin legs. “Well, honestly, how do you expect to get anything done with all of these interruptions?”

  “Never mind all that, Sister Naomi,” Reverend said kindly. “Come on in, Esther. It’s good to see you, daughter; I take it you heard the news?” He ushered her into his office and shut the door.

  Esther sat across from him at his desk. “Yes, I did. Love Zion will miss you. I’m keeping your family in my prayers.”

  “Well, now, I appreciate that. My little girl needs me. Listen, I’m glad you came by. I wanted to talk to you about helping the interim pastor get acclimated.”

  “Sure, what do you need me to do?”

  “Well, the deacons will help him with his church duties, but as head of many of our committees and our administrator, I’ll need you to help him with church business.”

  She nodded her agreement. “Who is the interim pastor?”

  “Oh, a good friend’s son. I wanted my friend, but he was unable to get away. I’ve heard his son preach, and he’s a good, God-fearing young man. He’ll do this church fine.”

  “Well, just let me know, and I’ll be glad to help. In the meantime, I’ll get all the paperwork together for him.” Esther pulled out her tablet and made some notes.

  “Good, good, let’s make it quick because he’s coming in later today.” He stood to escort Esther to the door.

  “But, Reverend, I thought you’d be here for the rest of the month.” Esther was on the verge of whining.

  Reverend Gregory patted her hand to calm her. “I will, Sister. I want to have a smooth transition, and with that in mind, I requested that the interim pastor come immediately. To meet this deadline, he’s coming right away, and he’ll send for all the comforts of home later. He’ll stay with Mrs. Gregory and I. Tomorrow morning, we meet the deacons, and I’m hoping you’re available around noon for a working lunch.”

  “Sure, I’ll check with—” Esther spun around when the door flew open. Startled, she knocked a folder off the desk at Naomi’s loud interruption into the room. “Goodness, Naomi!”

  Naomi’s glasses danced at the tip of her nose. “Reverend, he’s here. Your replacement just came in,” she theatrically fanned herself with her hands.

  Esther stooped to gather each scattered page from the fallen folder. Large polished wing-tipped shoes strode into her line of vision. Her eyes drifted up, programming long legs encased in expensive charcoal material that draped in perfect symmetry to the cut of his step. She continued her upward exploration and cataloged the fit of the doubled breasted jacket that clung to an impressive chest. As her examination took in the pure silk tie with pink and purple overtones, she was feeling this man’s style. She wanted—no, needed—to see the entire person. Mother Reed’s recent reproach for her to live again floated through her mind. Yesterday’s police officer, and now this.... Somebody better start praying for her.

  She smiled, clutching the now filled folder to her chest as she stood to welcome Love Zion’s newest leader. But Reverend Gregory beat her to it; he stood directly in her path, hugging his replacement. Her anticipation to see this man’s full image was heightened. How rude would it be to knock Reverend Gregory out of the way?

  When Reverend Gregory moved, Esther’s mouth fell open. Her eyes narrowed on the cleft in his chin, and her index finger twitched to settle in its place. Standing before her in all his glory was her ex-boyfriend, Briggs, although now, it appeared that he was Pastor Stokes.

  “Esther,” Reverend called for what appeared to be the third or fourth time.

  Shocked, Esther bumped the bottom of the desktop with her hip. As she grabbed the desk to steady herself, the folder fell again, and she hit a pile of books, knocking them off. She tried to catch them before they fell on her feet, but her fedora was knocked off her head by Briggs’s elbow as he attempted to catch them at the same time.

  “I see you still know how to get a man’s attention,” Briggs said, then laughed.

  Esther smoothed her hair back as she put her fedora on once again and glared at both Briggs, who was laughing openly, and Reverend Gregory who was holding his laughter back.

  “You always were a handful,” Briggs chuckled.

  Reverend Gregory picked up on Briggs’s comment. “You two know each other?”

  Esther rushed to speak first. “What a surprise. Briggs and I were classmates at the university.” Esther then turned to Briggs and held out her hand. “It’s so good to see you again.”

  Briggs took Esther’s hand in his and smiled. He held her hand in his palm and turned to Reverend Gregory. “Sir, this is the one that got away.” Esther’s face turned red, and she tugged her hand away. “Oh, it was nothing so serious, just a college friendship,” she hastened to correct.

  Curious, Briggs’s eyes widened as a challenging Esther stared back.

  Reverend Gregory cleared his throat. “Well, let’s keep matters simple and not share that with the rest of the congregation, and, Briggs, maybe you should send home for ‘everything’ sooner rather than later.”

  Briggs caught the drift of the reverend’s remarks. He went over and placed his hand on his shoulder and reassured him. “Everything is fine; I consider Esther an old friend. Everyone should have friends, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, yes. Well, good,” the reverend replied in relief.

  Esther knew Reverend Gregory hated confusion of any kind. And she could tell that Briggs’s reassurance allowed him to move forward, confident in his choice.

  E
sther backed away and gave a polite smile. “Well, Briggs . . . it was good seeing you again.”

  “Yes, you said that,” he said with humor, his expression puzzled at her lukewarm reception.

  Esther wasn’t ready for this meeting. She was off balance and wished in her angst she could get away with a loud ugly curse word, but Reverend Gregory would faint, then rush her to the altar. “Anyway, welcome to Love Zion. I know you’ll be happy here. I’ll see you both tomorrow,” she said in haste, rushing out.

  Esther moved in a slow jog. The swish-swash of her thighs rubbing together echoed, and she prayed that in her rush to leave she didn’t start a fire. She grumbled each step of the way. “Catches me on my day off, hair a mess, old sweat suit on, with ten years of excess weight, and here he walks in looking like Mr. GQ.” Esther jerked her keys out of her purse as she kept up her monologue. “Talking about the ‘one who got away.’ Oh, he’s smooth all right. And what’s that crack about I was always a handful? That better not be a reference to my weight. Ooh, Father, help me,” she whimpered.

  Esther was so caught up she didn’t hear her name being called.

  “Esther, Esther!”

  She turned and saw Briggs running behind her.

  “Hey, hold up a minute. You left your day planner. Girl, you was moving,” he said, catching up with her. “Now, before I give you this planner, can a brother get a proper welcome?” he asked as he opened his arms wide and smiled with the expression on his face she had seen only in the daydreams of her yesteryears.

  Esther surrendered and did what she had wanted to do since she first saw him again. She slid into his waiting arms, sighed, and momentarily placed her head on his shoulder. Perfect fit, Esther thought as she closed her eyes and remembered that this had been her place once upon a time, this nook between his shoulder and neck.