He was up half the night trying to decide if they should continue their relationship with him being behind bars or go their separate ways. His heart told him to hold on tight and never let her go, but his conscience told him that it wouldn't be fair to her. She was far too beautiful to ask to wait for him.
He softly touched her face. “I want to tell you to wait for me, but I can't. I love you too much to ask you to put your life on hold. I wasn't lying when I told you that I want what's best for you. You are beautiful, smart, and deserve the best. I'm not going to hold you back. As much as it hurt me the last time we were together and I told you to move on, I'm going to tell you again. Go ahead and live your life. As you can see,” he looked around. “I'm not going anywhere. Our paths will cross again.”
Her heart ached; she didn't want to go on without him. She wished he wasn't locked up so they could be together. “Three years is a long time.” Tressie sniffled.
“I know, but it isn't forever.”
“I love you,” she told him and hugged him tightly.
An hour later, Payce stood at the far end of the gymnasium where a group of inmates were in line waiting for a prison guard to escort them back to their cells. Payce turned around one last time and waved good-bye to Tressie.
An inmate standing behind Payce looked up and recognized Tressie. He couldn't believe his eyes. She was here. He had been thinking about her for years. He wondered what she was doing here. He saw her waving to Payce. He didn't know who Payce was, but he did know that Payce was the new kid on the block. He had to find out what his relationship was to Tressie.
The stranger walked up to Payce to introduce himself. “Hey man, what's up? I don't believe we've met. My name is Jabril.”
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Tressie, Val, Danyelle, Olivia, and the baby all sat in church and listened to the choir finish their first hymn.
Mrs. Simms stood up before the congregation. “The time has come for us to bring our burdens to the Lord. If there is anyone here who has committed a sin that has put a burden on his or her heart, I encourage you to come forward. Maybe you said something nasty or mean to a coworker or even someone in your household. Perhaps you did something that you now regret. It could have been something you did last year and the Holy Spirit has laid it on your heart to ask for forgiveness. Now is the time to repent.”
Everyone remained seated. “Come on, church. It's hard for me to believe that no one has sinned, for the Bible says, âFor all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.'”
Everyone in the congregation still remained seated until Elise walked in through the church doors and up to the front of the church.
Danyelle leaned over to Olivia and whispered. “I have a feeling there's going to be some drama in the church this morning.”
“Bless you, Sister Elise. Tell us what is plaguing your heart,” Mrs. Simms encouraged her.
“I came up here not to confess my sins to the church and not to ask the church for their forgiveness. I'm here because I love the Lord.”
“Amen,” the congregation replied.
“I am a sinner, but Jesus saved me from sin. That's why he died on the cross. So the things that I did wrong in the past, present, or future will be forgiven and not held against me.” She took a deep breath. “I made excuses for the church when it wanted to exploit other people's sins and not confess its own. The church is composed of sinners. There is not one without sin!” she yelled into the congregation. “We have no right to label others as sinners and not look at our own flaws.” She looked over toward Olivia. “Livie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry if we hurt you in any way.” Olivia nodded her head.
Mrs. Simms walked up to Elise and whispered in her ear, “Elise, maybe you should sit down now.”
“No, I'm not finished,” Elise replied. “I need to repent. I'm not going to disclose the details of what has been going on in my life, but I will tell you that the consequences from my sins will last a lifetime.”
The church fell silent.
“I'm leaving the church. From now on anything I do will not be judged by you, but by God.” Elise walked out the church doors and didn't turn back.
A buzz filled the church. Whispers ran rampant throughout the sanctuary. Reverend Kane called for the church's attention.
“Can I have everyone's attention? I also have an announcement to make. Elise was right; we should acknowledge our own sins before we ask anyone else to acknowledge theirs. I have a sin of my own that I'd like to confess. I don't think I would have ever been able to face who I really am without the help of a good friend who isn't here right now, but he's here in spirit.”
“I told you there was going to be drama up in here today,” Danyelle whispered to Olivia again.
Reverend Kane continued, “I'd like to confess before God and the church that I am a lesbian.”
There were no amens shouted through the church. No one caught the Holy Spirit. The only sound came from baby Bryce, trying to make his presence known. A few of the older members looked at the reverend strangely.
“I am sexually attracted to women,” she clarified so everyone understood. “I realize that the church sees this as a sin, but that hasn't stopped the Lord from loving me.”
She held out her left hand. Mrs. Simms walked over and gripped her hand tightly. “And this is my lover. Mrs. Simms and I have been in a relationship for months.”
Reverend Simms ran over to them. “Is this true?” he asked his wife.
Mrs. Simms held her head high. “Yes, it is.”
“Shall we?” Reverend Kane asked Mrs. Simms and the two quietly walked around Reverend Simms and out the church doors.
Dedication
Dedicated in loving memory of Alberta Stewart May you
dance among the stars forever.
Acknowledgments
This time around I don't have too many people to acknowledge. But I would like to express my gratitude to a few special people.
My stylist, Rau'berd at Studio Whisper. You are such a good friend; not just to me, but I've witnessed first hand your generosity to others. You are such a giving and caring person. Every customer who has the pleasure of sitting in your chair will leave with not only a fly do but also intoxicated with positive enthusiasm. Every life you come in contact with is encouraged. It's an honor to call you a friend . . . and FABULOUS HAIR STYLIST ... Love ya
To my new family the EXTENDED FRIENDS BOOK CLUB. I look forward to spending time with you every time we meet. You ladies are not only fun, but also an answer to a lonely writer's prayer. I prayed for a book club, and as we know . . . God answers prayers. He not only sent me the best group of women to meet with, but also a hoard of new friends.
In Baltimore I made two new friends, Mondel and Tracy at Urban Knowledge Bookstore at Eastpoint Mall. I thoroughly enjoyed the time we spent together. Mondel, you are now a part of my inner circle. It's a pleasure conversing with you about different books. Please keep the suggestions coming. Thank you for being so real with me.
I'd like to shout out two special fans. First is Malika D. from Dayton, Ohio. Receiving your e-mails on the regular always makes me laugh. Secondly, I owe plenty of thanks to my MySpace friend Sharlean Frazier, you were always looking out for my best interest. Thanks for the support and encouragement.
Love,
Dynah
Prologue
1961
“Albert, make sure you get back here before the sun goes down.” Those were the last words Albert heard his momma say before he raced out of his aunt's house and down the dirt road toward the church. It was his turn to pick up his family's monthly stipend of government milk, butter and cheese the church distributed every month.
Albert ran a few feet before losing momentum. He slowed down to a turtle's pace and dragged his feet along the dusty road while kicking up rocks along his path. It was hard being the oldest of three. At twelve years old, he was the man of the house. He chopped wood, washed clothes, cooked and even worked a part-time job with his uncle. Albert would do anything to help out his momma.
From across the field Albert could see the sky turn different shades of pink, a sure sign that the sun was beginning its descent to retire for the night.
Albert jogged the remaining distance to the church. The last to arrive, he pushed through the church doors and gathered in his arms the last package sitting on the table.
“I didn't think you were gonna make it here in time.” The reverend's smile condemned him for being so tardy. “Your momma called and said you were on the way.”
“Yes, sir. They need this stuff to prepare our Easter Sunday dinner tomorrow,” Albert replied.
“Are you ready to star as Jesus in the Easter play?”
The reverend and Albert walked to the church doors together.
“Yes, sir.” Albert regarded it an honor to portray Jesus and took his part seriously. He rehearsed his lines at least twice a day and prayed for a flawless performance.
“Good.” The reverend patted Albert on the back and guided him out the door. “It's getting dark out, would you like for me to give you a ride home?”
Albert opened his mouth to accept the offer, but quickly changed his mind. The Reverend liked to talk, and he had bad breath. Albert couldn't fathom being locked in a car with him for any period of time.
“That's okay, Reverend. It won't take me long to walk home.”
“Okay, son, but make sure you go straight home. It's unsafe for a young man to be out alone after dark.”
Albert waved good-bye and pressed on toward his final destination. Suddenly, he stopped. Only a few hundred feet away from the church steps Albert heard the familiar call of crickets. Certain he could catch at least a dozen crickets for his fishing trip before nightfall, he disregarded the strict instructions from his elders to go directly home and stopped by the banks of the swamp that stretched out behind the church.
Albert pushed his way through the thick brush and knelt down close to the ground. He set the package by his feet and listened closely for the crickets' mating call.
He was on the verge of capturing his first prey, when out of nowhere, the roar of the reverend's car engine frightened the crickets into silence. In a swift motion, the car's headlights swept over Albert. When he looked back, Albert saw the Reverend's car driving off into the distance.
Caught unexpectedly, Albert looked around at the darkness that surrounded him. Without him realizing it, the moon had crept into the sky and its light cast an uneasy feeling deep down in Albert's bones. Regret filled his mind. He should have obeyed his momma. As he prepared to gather his things and leave, Albert stood up straight to stretch his legs. Then, he heard a menacing voice holler, “Get 'em, boys.”
Without warning, Albert's frail, thin eighty-pound body was lifted up off the ground. He kicked and screamed for his captors to let him go, but it was to no avail.
“Shut him up,” another man commanded before Albert's mouth was gagged with a handkerchief.
His eyes frantically perused the white faces that surrounded him, searching for a look of empathy. Instead he found a slew of pale faces, all with beady black eyes that expelled hatred from within their soul.
While a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around Albert's neck and held him in an unbearable chokehold, sharp fingernails pressed hard into his arms.
From behind the gag, Albert released muffled and distorted cries for help. The men shoved him against a nearby oak tree that sat in close proximity to the church's front door. Next, they pulled his hands around the tree and tied him to it.
Albert was terrified. At school, stories circulated the schoolyard about missing children who were rumored to have been torched alive. Their bodies were burned until there was nothing left but ashes.
“Is he tied to that pole tight?” Wet, sweaty, loose strands of hair hung in the man's eyes as he chewed on a piece of hay. “Fellas, look at what we've caught. Didn't your momma tell you not to go anywhere by yourself?” The man's tart breath ripped through Albert's nostrils.
Tears gathered in the corners of Albert's eyes, but he wouldn't allow them to see him cry.
“What do you think we should do with him?” The man swallowed the remainder of his beer from the can, dropped it to the ground and crushed it with his boot.
“I think we should stone him.”
While everyone laughed at the man's suggestion, the guy who asked the questioned held up his hand to quiet everybody. “A modern-day stoning is not a bad idea.”
“I was just joking.”
The two men talked as the others tortured Albert by pulling his hair and spitting in his face.
“I wasn't. Stone him like they did in biblical times.” The burly white guy snatched up a huge rock from the ground and tossed it from one hand to the other.
Albert's vulnerability gave his oppressors power. Their ringleader felt like Goliath, and Albert was David. Through his eyes, Albert was a worthless nigger. His chapped lips, knotty hair and charred skin were enough reasons for him to rid the earth of his kind.
The white man stepped a few feet away from Albert, and with all the strength of a baseball player trying to strike out a batter, he threw the rock at Albert's face. It hit him an inch above his right eye. His skin split open, exposing a bloody wound. Again, the man picked up a few more rocks, and with even more force, he aimed each one at Albert's face. The other men mimicked their leader's actions, and within minutes they were simultaneously stoning Albert with rocks. Every rock was treated like a missile that was aimed at Albert's face and body. He was defenseless against their torture, and while they attacked him they jeered and taunted him by calling him names.
“Hold up!” Another man pushed his way to the front of the crowd. “We can't do this . . .” he said to the crowd.
Albert's swollen left eye prevented him from clearly seeing the man who was shielding him from their torture.
“. . . Without a crown for his honor.” He strutted up to Albert and placed a crown made of barbwire down on top of his head.
Everyone watching laughed heartily.
“Where'd you get that from?” someone asked.
“I used this to keep the sheep at Old Man Crother's place safe from those sly foxes that come around at night.” He pressed the crown down hard on top of Albert's head so it fit securely.
The pressure of the crown felt like thorns being crushed into Albert's skull, and he cringed at the pain. A small stream of blood slid down the side of his face and onto his shirt.
“This is your lucky day, kid,” the man teased. “You can pretend to be Jesus and ask God to forgive us for our sins.”
The entire group of men screamed out in laughter.
The minute the man removed himself from the line of fire, the constant hammering of rocks being thrown against Albert's slim body continued. Ultimately, he endured the suffering until he finally passed out.
Albert's head dropped down in front of him, and his body slumped forward. The men noticed his body become limp and stopped their persecution against him. The man in charge tried to push the kid's head straight up, but it instantly dropped back down. The power he'd had ten minutes prior was gone. The kid was dead. The rocks in his hand fell to the ground, and he ordered everyone back in their pick up trucks. They left the scene as dark rain clouds moved in and rain poured down on the kid's head.
The rain revived Albert long enough for him to part his lips to speak with God, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
It rained all night, and the following day was Easter Sunday. The boy's body was discovered at sunrise service.