The Retreat (16 page)

“Don't leave,” Jamal said.

“There's no reason for staying.” Quincy shrugged.

“Stay for me, because I need you here and I've been a true friend to you.”

“I can't believe what you're asking me.”

“I'm asking you to give God a chance to work things out.”

“I know God is in the miracle business, but not even He can work this out.”

“Please give it a chance.”

Quincy did not even say anything; he just dropped his bags and considered his prayer partner's request. He would even consider that his life was starting to return to its normal pattern, until a knock on the door produced Minister Jacobs. Quincy's heartbeat nearly broke his ribs.

“Can we talk?” Minister Jacobs's voice trembled under his words.

Quincy had something else in mind that he and the minister could do, but, instead, he gave a nod to Jamal and Will. The two men left the room.

This was the moment that Quincy had waited for: he was alone with the man who had been sleeping with his wife. The culprit was within five feet of him with nothing but space and opportunity separating them. He could break his nose or choke him to death. For a millisecond he thought about the gun on the nightstand. He wished he could say that God was responsible for preventing him from reaching for it. The truth was, Quincy knew that by the time he reached for that gun and pointed to shoot, Jacobs would be halfway to Carmel.

“I bet you want to punch me,” Minister Jacobs said apprehensively.

Quincy leaped up, ready to pounce on Minister Jacobs. He had to remind himself that Quincy Page did not lose his cool. Quincy Page did not get into fights like some street thug. “I ought to break your jaw. You don't take something that belongs to me.”

“It was a moment of weakness.”

“I love how you Christians like to downplay your actions! ‘It was a moment of weakness'! You slept with my wife! You used your title to seduce her, and ruined a marriage.” Quincy gave Minister Jacobs the thumbs-up.

“Have you ever considered how unhappy Karen was?”

“Excuse me, but you don't get to psychoanalyze my wife's and my marriage to make it seem like your affair is really therapy.”

“I came here to ask for your forgiveness.”

“You don't need my forgiveness. Ask God, He seems to have plenty for you.”

Minster Jacobs started to cry. Quincy could not believe what was going on. He would have much rather had a fight than see a grown man standing in front of him, boo-hooing. At least then he would know that he was engaged in an intense battle with another man. He did not know if he could really call Minister Jacobs a man. He was a punk, if anything.

“I don't want to forgive you. I really don't. You get to destroy my marriage and get redeemed?” Quincy spat.

“I'm not getting away scot-free. My ministry is ruined. My integrity has been compromised. Yes, I believe God will restore me, but I have to first seek forgiveness, and I don't want to go on without making things right with you first.”

In the end, Quincy could not fault Minister Jacobs for desiring his wife. It wasn't like Karen was some postmenopausal widow. She was a fox, beautiful, with a fat bank account provided courtesy of her husband. She was the real offender. Karen was the one who'd made a vow before God and Quincy to forsake all others. There was nothing to be gained by holding a grudge against a minister.

“Whatever. You're forgiven,” Quincy mumbled.

“Thank you, thank you,” Minister Jacobs said, like he had just been granted a stay of execution.

Minister Jacobs would be redeemed. Quincy was sure of that. God always redeemed His children, while he himself was still looking for a chance to be avenged.

If a bull wore glasses, he would look just like Pastor Hughes. He was a robust man with pepper black skin. “You think you're a real man, what, because of the size of your manhood? Because you can go out and make money?” There was no response from the crowd, so the question came off as rhetorical. “That don't make you a man. A real man is a man after God's heart. David was a real man. Sure he had slipups, but that didn't stop him from being all that God would have him be.”

Will was moved by the story of David. He was a man most people could relate to and admire. He was flawed, but he was not a punk. He got down when he needed to, and with everything, he trusted God.

“We have a great example in David. We have to put aside the petty competition, because we rob ourselves of a great brotherhood that could be formed, like David's and Jonathon's relationship. You see, the devil knows that, and he appeals to our competitive nature. That's why we have to have the prettiest wife, and if that doesn't work, we go out and get someone else's wife.”

Pastor Hughes took off his glasses, then placed them on the podium as he stepped away and stood in front of the men.

“The scripture says that a friend loves at all times, but a brother is born for adversity. How many of you can honestly say that you have a brother you can call in times of adversity?”

Pastor Hughes's question sparked the brothers throughout the room to look at each other.

“I know I have one in Pastor Dawkins. I called him the other day when someone stole our church van and roughed up Deacon Porter.”

The statement caused Will to look the other way out of guilt. The name Celebration Christian Center had sounded familiar, but what were the odds that the church that Will had stolen a van from earlier was the same church in attendance tonight?

“Get this: David was a king before he ruled over Israel. He was a king because God had already set him apart. You are all kings because God has already set you apart. The lion is known as the king of the jungle. We know that there is more than one lion, so there can be more than one king of the jungle. We can all exist and occupy the same space without sacrificing our God-given destiny.”

Will had considered himself a lot of things over the years: a thief, a hustler, a gangster, and a menace. But he'd never possessed enough self-worth to consider himself royalty. Could God have gone through such great lengths to reach him? Was Will caught up in an intricate plot by God?

“There's someone here who can't believe that God loves him so much that he would go through such great lengths for him. If that's you, friend, I want you to come up here.”

Will was spooked by how well the pastor read his thoughts. Despite his reservations, Will got up and walked toward the preacher. Pastor Hughes put one hand on Will's shoulders and gave him a look like he was going to punch him in the stomach. Then Pastor Hughes put the mic to his lips.

“Young man, everything that society has said about you is a lie. You've been told that you're worthless and that you won't amount to nothing, but God wanted me to tell you that He loves you and he has a great work in store for you to accomplish.”

Tears burst from Will's eyes, and the large pastor gave him a big hug. All of his life he'd felt invisible. His gang was an invisible army that just wanted its existence to be known; even if their existence was more of a deficit than a benefit. They rained shots in the air, tagged on walls, and wreaked all kinds of havoc just so that the world would recognize that they were here. That they mattered.

Now Will had a new understanding. He had always mattered to God and he was not here to simply exist. He had a purpose, and while that purpose was at the moment obscure to him, he knew it existed.

“Is there something you want to say?” Pastor Hughes put the mic to Will's lips.

“I want to get my life right with God,” Will said.

Every man in the room jumped out of his seat and started dancing and shouting. Will sat down and buried his face into his hands. Jamal and Chauncey surrounded Will and prayed for him.

Every tear was purifying and an ache followed every beat of Will's heart. The emotions ran so rampant inside of Will that sitting in the chair was no longer a desirable position. Will fell to his knees and surrendered.

Quincy needed some fresh air, and the smell of seaweed was, at this point, alluring. He embarked on his journey toward the ocean with a question in mind. Would he stop at the shore or would he keep walking?

While listening to the minister speak and watching his brethren receive their breakthroughs, Quincy came to the realization that everything he had done had been for Karen and his daughter. What was the point of conquest if there was no one to share the spoils with? There were plenty of moments when Quincy could not stand Karen. There was also no shortage of moments when he wished he and Karen had decided not to have a child. But, even still, Quincy would trade all of his bellyaches with a wife and kid than the emptiness that accompanied his current state.

“Q, wait up.”

Quincy turned around and saw Jamal jogging toward him.

“Where you going?” Jamal asked.

“For a walk. Care to join me?”

Jamal simply gave Quincy a nod and walked alongside him. At night, the boardwalk that led to the beach seemed to fade into darkness. Quincy could barely make out his feet in front of him. In fear that he might misstep and injure himself, Quincy walked slowly and made calculated steps. He could hear the rumblings of nature's wildlife, which only made the walk more eerie. Heavy footsteps started to close in, and both Quincy and Jamal turned around to see Will jogging toward them.

“What y'all up to?” Will asked as he approached the two men.

“Just going for a walk,” Jamal answered.

With Super Dad and O-Dog accompanying him, Quincy knew that he was not about to commit suicide. The sound of the waves crashing was an indicator that they were getting close to the water, and the sand looked more smoking gray at night. The wind started to pick up, and Quincy noticed that there was a pile of wood sitting on the sand.

“We can build a fire,” Quincy suggested.

Will and Jamal walked ahead of Quincy. When they arrived at the pile of wood, Quincy stood back and watched as Jamal and Will piled the wood together to create a bonfire. Will ignited the wood with a lighter from his pocket. When the orange-red flames became emboldened, Quincy sat in silence and listened to the ocean. Jamal and Will stared at the flames, waiting for Quincy to say a word.

“I was wondering where you guys went off to.” Chauncey emerged from the darkness and sat between Quincy and Jamal.

“Look, man, don't come over here with no sermons. I ain't in the mood,” Quincy said.

“Brother Page, I'm really sorry to hear about you and Karen. The way she used to talk about you around the church, she made it seem like you had stopped coming to church for no reason.”

“What do you know, C? You're not even married,” Quincy said.

“There's a reason I'm not married.”

“I already know,” Quincy said. “It's obvious you're gay. I see the way you hover around Pastor. I don't know if our pastor is like that, but it's obvious that you got a thing for men. I don't judge you, if that's your thing,” Quincy said.

“I am not gay!” Chauncey jumped up and scanned his brethren.

“I don't know, playboy. I can tell by your hands that you get manicures, and you dress a little too feminine for me,” Will added.

“It's called grooming, you idiots. I'm not gay. I'm just a deacon with a sense of style.”

“Deacon McClendon, I've never seen you really interact with women at the church. At least not in that way,” Jamal said.

“That's because my father used to beat my mother's head in whenever she did not give him money for his drug addiction. My brother inherited the drug addiction and I inherited my father's temper. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I beat on a woman. I don't hate women, but I just don't trust myself around them.” Chauncey paused to clear his throat. “Pastor Dawkins is the father I wish I had, but we don't get a choice in that matter.”

Quincy was pleased to discover that Chauncey had not been born in a manger. He did not walk on water, but he walked on earth with the rest of the common folks.

“I can't even stand my father,” Jamal said, scratching his chin. “He has taken better care of his cars than he did my mother. It was like my mother was his mistress. He would run around on her all hours of the night, and then come home and go straight to the garage to work on his car. He didn't even respect my mother enough to tell her where he had been.”

“You see, this is why I don't too much care for Father's Day.” Quincy stood up and dusted the sand off his butt. “It's more of an indictment of fathers than a celebration. I'm fortunate. I saw my daddy slave at a factory plant for twenty years before he decided that he would no longer take any orders from a white man. He struck out on his own and started his own business. Though he struggled for the rest of his life, I'd never seen my father prouder. I know he would be proud to see his son become a great architect,” Quincy stated.

“Let me just say this.” Chauncey put his hands up. “If you don't have God as your foundation, then nothing you build will last.”

Quincy took Chauncey's words to heart and knew that there was truth within them. Though he couldn't care less about the messenger, Quincy did get the message.

“Q, God is not asking you to forgive Karen and Minister Jacobs for their sake. He's asking you to forgive them for your sake. Because the pain doesn't go away the longer you hold on to it,” Jamal replied.

“Man, don't give me no sermons,” Quincy spat. “I just want somebody to be real with me and feel where I'm coming from. You don't know what it's like to be betrayed by the one person you love and trusted.”

“I know, because I've been on both sides of that equation. Have you ever stopped to think what you might have done in the process?” Jamal asked.

Even now, Quincy could not see the error in his actions. He had done everything he was supposed to do as a husband, and what Karen did in appreciation for that was reprehensible.

“Think about it, Q. Neither you nor Karen got into this thing planning to mess up. So how did you guys end up here?” Jamal asked.

“I paid the mortgage, I paid the light bill. Cars, vacations, and shopping sprees. What more could she want a brother to do?” Quincy wondered out loud.

The bonfire transformed into a pulpit and Quincy was about to educate his young, single brethren about what it took to be a man. “You see, part of the problem with women is that they don't know what they want. They say they want a man like their father, who is strong, works hard, believes in God, and takes care of his family. That man could be staring them right in the face and you know who they would pick over him? Soulja Boy!”

The last statement conjured up some laughs from all the men. Quincy was surprised that even a stiff-neck like Chauncey knew who Soulja Boy was!

“Man, you were doing extras. I don't know if I could do all that for a female,” Will said.

“But keep it one hundred, Q. I may not be married, but I know that it takes a lot more than that to be a man. I mean, real talk, you might as well have been a Visa card and not her husband,” Jamal said.

Quincy felt the sting of Jamal's comments. He had never heard anyone challenge his philosophy before. He did the same thing that he'd watched his father and grandfather do, and that was to take care of their women. What more could Karen expect from him?

“I did more; I even went to church with her on Sunday. Y'all saw me.” Quincy looked for confirmation among his brethren but did not find anything.

“Um, I don't know about that. I mean, yes, you were physically present at church, but mentally and spiritually you were somewhere else,” Chauncey added.

Quincy could not believe this; he was having his entire manhood tested. He did not like being questioned, and if this kept up, a fist fight was about to break out.

“Q, what happened to you was cold, and whatever you decide to do with your marriage is up to you and Karen, but at least give God the chance to try to work it out,” Jamal said.

“I don't have anything to say to God.” Quincy turned away as if he were turning his back to God.

“But God got plenty to say to you. If you would put your pride down and listen, you might get the answers you need,” Chauncey said.

“I thought I was in a hopeless situation, and if God didn't give up on me, then I know He hasn't given up on you,” Will added.

Quincy was overwhelmed with emotions. All he'd wanted to do was to confront the man responsible for all that he had lost. He did not expect to gain a brotherhood. And in his darkest hour, he never expected to find comfort. Quincy had an epiphany, that there was no hole he could fall into that God could not pull him out of. And, in the meantime, God would send His saints to comfort him. That was what had transpired this weekend, and Quincy could no longer dwell in God's presence and with God's people and be resentful. His will had finally decided to bow along with his head. “
Lord Jesus. Forgive me of my sins and forgive me for trying to do it on my own. I have made a mess of things and only you can fix it.”

 

Tonight Pastor Dawkins walked along the beach without his swagger. He did not even dare venture to where some of the brothers had gathered around for a bonfire.

Normally he would be walking on a natural high. Tonight, however, he was confused, to say the least, about how this weekend had unfolded. Pastor Hughes was awesome, there was no doubt about it, but was he enough to cause a breakthrough? Will had dedicated his life to the Lord and all of heaven would rejoice, but how long would it be before the streets became too much for him to resist? How does a man let go of what the world says he needs and lay hold of what God know he needs? That question perplexed him beyond anything that could possibly transpire this weekend.

“Hey, you.”

Pastor Dawkins turned around and saw Grace walking along the beach. She carried with her an aura that could pull anyone from the depths of melancholy. And melancholy had been keeping Pastor Dawkins company this night.

“Hey. How's things with your book club?” he asked her.

“We concluded our meeting hours ago and all the girls packed into their cars and left. I drove up by myself and I wanted to stay back and enjoy this evening some more.”

Pastor Dawkins would have loved for her to say that she stayed back for him; his ego could enjoy a boost. They looked out to the ocean, and the moon's reflection made a white puddle in the mist. It was not like Pastor Dawkins could not see a beach where he lived, it was just that he spent most of his time in the broken neighborhoods of Long Beach, trying to keep people from falling through the cracks.

“How did everything turn out? I mean, if you're at liberty to talk about it. I know that everything that goes on at a Men's Retreat is hush-hush,” Grace stated.

He laughed because, in truth, most women could not handle the flaws and the struggles that their men encountered on a daily basis.

The Men's Retreat was an outlet for men to vent their frustrations.

“Some men received their breakthroughs, while others are still waiting for their time.”

“You're doing an awesome work with these men. I can see it.” Grace patted Pastor Dawkins on the shoulder.

“Right now it feels like I'm trying to skate up a mountain during a blizzard.”

“Sarcasm doesn't suit you.” Grace flashed him a smile.

Pastor Dawkins surveyed her hands and did not see any rings on any important fingers. “Let me ask you something. How come you're not married?”

“I was married, but I got too old for my husband, so he decided to go and get a woman twenty years younger.”

Her husband was a fool. Grace was not only beautiful; she carried a beautiful aura and had more class than most women.

“Now, I ask you, why hasn't the great Pastor Dawkins gotten married? And be honest.”

“To tell you the truth, I never wanted to bring shame to the cross. So I hid behind it and thought that I was being super spiritual. The truth is, I'm afraid of being vulnerable to anybody but God.”

A weight lifted off his shoulders. He was naked, not in a literal sense, but on a deeper level that only someone who was ready to entrust his heart to a person could possibly understand.

“You don't have to be afraid to be vulnerable. That's where your strength comes from. Jesus was perfect so you don't have to be.”

What irony it was that Grace was the one teaching Pastor Dawkins a lesson about grace.