Guilty of Love (39 page)

“
How much longer do we have
with Kami?”

“
Not long, ten days maybe,”
Cheney answered, climbing into his passenger seat.

“
I’m going to miss
her.”

Cheney blew kisses to the group as
Parke pulled away. “Yeah, Wilma says the family isn’t being very
cooperative in trying to get Kami back. She may have to leave me
and go into long-term traditional foster care.”

***

Parke turned into Faith Miracle
Church’s overcrowded parking lot. “Whoa, how many people attend
this church?”

“
Hmmm, I was thinking the
same thing,” Cheney said absently. “The preacher must be doing
something right.”

Maybe.
When had he become so
cynical? Parke maneuvered his SUV into a narrow space and
parked.

When they got out, Parke intertwined
his hand with hers as they walked toward a majestic one-story gray
stone accenting a white brick building.

“
I hope I’m not making a
mistake,” she mumbled under her breath.

Just then, Annette waved from inside a
double-glassed door. She flung open the door and playfully yanked
Cheney inside, engulfing her with a bear hug, ignoring
Parke.

“
Ooh, I’m so glad you
came,” Annette rattled. “When Parke called me this morning, I just
thanked Jesus.” She looped her arm through Cheney’s and escorted
them to their seats. As an afterthought, Annette turned her head.
“Oh. Hi, Parke, I’m glad to see you, too. Did you play the CD I
gave you for Christmas?”

“
How nice of you to notice
me. Yes, I did,” Parke stated.

Annette had insisted at the end of
their phone call that Parke play Donnie McClurkin’s
Stand
CD
on the way to church. When the singer first asked a simple
question, Cheney became immersed. She sniffed and at one point,
faced the window, wiping away a tear. Even his ears zoomed in on
the song that called out guilt, shame, and past mistakes, active
ingredients in anyone’s life.

“
We’ll stand together
against our past decisions, just like Paki and Elaine, who couldn’t
undo the past, but boldly shaped a future,” he had told
Cheney.

In the sanctuary door, thousands of
worshippers packed the auditorium. Some sang and clapped, others
sat rocking from side to side with their eyes closed. Parke guessed
they were meditating. The organ’s pipes caused the sanctuary walls
to vibrate. Numerous wind and percussion instruments’ sounds
exploded, harmonizing with a choir too large to number.

A balcony stretched from one end of
the sanctuary to the other. On the main floor, Annette sat next to
Parke, and he next to Cheney whose face was unreadable. Scooting
closer, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “You all
right?”

She forced a weak smile. “My family
and I attended church for weddings and funerals. Studies,
extra-curriculum activities, and social events took up my
time.”

As if privy to Cheney’s remarks,
Annette nudged Parke’s left shoulder, wearing a pleased expression.
Mission accomplished. She had gotten him inside her church walls,
using his woman as bait.

“
Thanks for bringing me. I
don’t think I would’ve come by myself,” Cheney said.

He nodded, not sure if church was
exorcising her pent-up fears or recycling them to another level.
Unlike Cheney, the Jamiesons did attend church, not regularly, but
as a routine, copying other families. It had been a socializing
opportunity to be seen and make business connections. At his
parents’ house, an old family bible was laid on a table in the
foyer. Parke didn’t know what book it was opened to or the page
number. He did know it contained the names, births, and deaths of
his ancestors.

As the music died down, a middle-aged
man dressed in a beige-and-black preacher’s robe came to the
podium. “Praise the Lord, everybody. Whether you’re sitting,
standing, or sick in your body, put your hands together for Jesus.
Even a small child can clap. Luke nineteen and forty warns us if we
withhold our praise, the stones will immediately cry out with
praise. You showed up today. Now let’s show off for
Jesus.”

A thunderous roar erupted throughout
the auditorium. Folks all around him clapped vigorously. Annette
yelled, “Thank You, Jesus.”

Cheney remained seated and slumped
over. He was about to touch her when her head drifted back,
revealing a trail of tears glistening down her cheeks. He didn’t
know what to expect when they came to church, but Cheney’s crying
wasn’t it.

As the noise settled down, the
minister shouted, “Don’t you feel better?”

Some in the crowd shouted, “Yeah.”
Others waved their hands. Parke exhaled when Cheney nodded, dabbing
her face with a Kleenex Annette had handed her.

“
Then, let’s have church,”
the minister commanded them.

Annette leaned across Parke and
informed Cheney the man was the pastor, Elder Baylor
Scott.

“
Despite the praise a few
minutes ago, somebody didn’t join in. Some of you may ask, ‘How do
you know?’ Just like the woman with an issue of blood who pressed
to touch the hem of Jesus’s garment, Jesus knew the moment power
left Him. In the midst of shouts, God knows who that someone was
who didn’t praise Him.” Elder Scott turned the pages in his Bible.
Cheney touched Parke’s thigh.

“
That was me,” she
confessed.

What is she talking about?
He
looked perplexed.

. “Although I clapped, I felt like
such a hypocrite.”

Even in church, Cheney’s trespasses
were weighing her down. He racked his brain to offer some soothing
words, but the pastor interrupted him.

“
Everybody turn your Bible
to 1 Peter 5: 7.”

Annette whipped out a huge Bible, and
thrust it in his hand for him and Cheney to use. “When God starts
working, I always come prepared,” she said with
compassion.

The minister cleared his throat.
“Let’s read together.
‘Casting all your care upon Him; for He
careth for you.’
Regardless of what problems you walked through
the door with this morning, God is commanding you to throw them
away with a great force—to fling, to drop, to shed, to rid yourself
of all that is weighing you down, keeping you up at night, or
eating you up inside. Give it to God today. Why, because God cares
for you without any prejudices. He already knew about them before
you committed them.”

“
Thank You, Jesus,” someone
shouted behind Parke’s head.

“
Amen,” an older woman,
sitting two rows ahead, added. Others clapped, encouraging the
pastor to preach the Word.

Cheney sat in a trance. Parke knitted
his brows and twisted his lips in confusion
. The man only read
one scripture. Why is everybody getting so worked up?
he
wondered
.

“
When God takes our
burdens, we can wave them good-bye, so long. They won’t be back.
They won’t be back,” the pastor continued, preaching about a
carefree life, tossing away the bad and grabbing the
good.

Cheney listened attentively while
Parke wondered if he had fathered a disregarded son from his
carefree style.

The preacher finished his sermon with
a resounding, “Hallelujah.” Some members surrounding Parke jumped
up, waved their arms or danced to a secret beat.

“
Let us stand and pray.
Jesus, You know our needs. You see the souls that are marred with
sins, and the cries that are pleading for deliverance. Lord, we
know we can’t make a change without You,” the minister
prayed.

Parke couldn’t explain it, but the
atmosphere was changing. He listened as the choir hummed the melody
to “Jesus is Love,” a song he connected with Lionel Richie.
Cheney’s knuckles reddened as she gripped the back of the seat in
front of them.

Pastor Scott warned, “Listen to me.
This moment is not about churches or religions, it’s about your
soul and where you will spend eternity,” his voice pierced the air.
“I don’t have to tell you whether you’re saved, living in
sanctification, or sin. Make your choice today. Don’t walk out of
this building and back into sin. Repent.”

Subliminal spirits agitated the crowd.
Parke chanced a glance around. He could count the number of faces
where the message was hitting home.

“
Friends, I’m not preaching
because it’s Sunday. I’m concerned about your soul! Tomorrow’s
breath is not promised today. From where you are, repent of your
sins.”

Parke didn’t know if anyone else’s
heart dropped like an elevator and then zoomed to the top floor,
but Cheney leaned into him. He heard what sounded like a quick rush
of wind. The origin was uncertain as if they were standing in a
cornfield and could see a tornado building.

“
If you say that you’ve
accepted Christ, yet still have problems living holy, leave from
where you’re standing. C’mon down and let God wash your sins away,
and give you power to live right. We have baptismal clothes for you
now. We’re ready to serve you now. Are you ready? No need to make
an appointment. You can leave here today a new creature filled with
the Holy Ghost and have the evidence of speaking in unknown
tongues,” he begged the crowd until one by one many left their
seats.

“
That’s right. Come on. The
Bible says in the Book of Acts 19, ‘
Then said Paul, John verily
baptized with the baptism of repentance, saying unto the people,
that they should believe on him which should come after him, that
is, on Christ Jesus. When they heard this, they were baptized in
the name of the Lord Jesus. And when Paul had laid his hands upon
them, the Holy Ghost came on them; and they spake with tongues, and
prophesied.’
That’s right. Let God give you some power to live
right.”

The pastor bowed his head as in
prayer, moans, cries, and some screams of deliverance permeated the
air. Looking up, the preacher scanned the sanctuary as many reacted
to his message either in prayer, wailing, or walking down the
aisle. He adjusted the microphone. “Know that God is big enough to
take away your burdens. Make your way to the front altar, repent,
and give God your life.” He turned to the choir for a selection.
“All right, don’t let it be said too late.” He took his Bible and
went back to his seat where he knelt, prayed, and then
sat.

“
I want to go, Parke, will
you walk with me?” Cheney’s face displayed a childish innocence he
had never seen before.

Yes
was on the tip of his
tongue as he stared into her watery eyes, but
no
was
shouting from his heart. The sad thing was he had no legitimate
reason for his resistance. Parke couldn’t blame it on Annette. She
had always been a good friend. He really didn’t have a beef with
God or His blessings. So where were the ill feelings coming from?
Cheney’s eyes pled with him before turning away and bowing her
head.

Annette reached across him and stroked
Cheney’s arm. “I’ll walk with you.” She led Cheney down a long
aisle that quickly swelled with others—young, old, and a few in
wheelchairs. Parke couldn’t believe his eyes. In front of the
pulpit, Cheney whispered into Minister Dyson Kidd’s ear, Annette’s
friend from the baseball game.

Nodding, Dyson uttered something to
Cheney before laying his hand on her head. He closed his eyes and
prayed fervently while Annette stood behind Cheney with her head
bowed. Parke didn’t like it—Dyson touching his woman or praying for
her.

Within minutes, Cheney stretched out
her arms as if she was submitting to something. Two women
approached her, dressed in white suits, and wrapped their arms
around her waist. Then they steered her through a side door.
Annette gave Parke an accusatory glance when she returned to her
seat.

“
Many have come today, but
somebody’s still holding out. Perhaps you feel you aren’t carrying
any burdens, but are you guilty of works of the flesh?”

The choir’s distinctive words had
subsided into soft humming. Parke turned to Annette, whispering,
“What is that man talking about, works of the flesh?”

“
Cheney has decided to get
her sins washed away, so she’s on her way to get
baptiz—”

“
Let me break it down for
you, friends,” the minister continued, “Are you guilty? Are you
mixed up in adultery, are you a fornicator—sex outside
marriage—what about lasciviousness? Galatians 5:19 begins the hit
list—idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, wrath, strife, sedition,
heresies, envying, murder, drunkenness, and such will keep you
outside of God. Are you guilty? My advice is let it go.”

Elbowing Parke, Annette asked, “See
your name linked to any of that?”

He thought about this Parke boy again.
Could the child be Parke VII? “Okay, okay. I’m guilty.” Parke
dropped his head in his hands as he leaned forward.
God, forgive
me if I’ve wrong my own child. Forgive me for sins that I didn’t
realize I committed. Show me what it means to live for You because
I have no idea,
he said silently and stood to begin his walk
down the same path that Cheney had taken. Parke felt like he was
being summoned to the king for a beheading. After prayer, the next
thing Parke remembered was changing into all white clothes and
standing at the edge of a pool facing Cheney.