Summary

Author Christopher G.A. Fox combines his love for God and poetry in his new book, The Spoken Word:Words of Life! Jeremiah Washington has a fiery passion for spoken word poetry and is a man after God’s

Chapter 1: Introduction to the Poet

There was a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job; and that man was blameless, upright, fearing God and turning away from evil.

Job 1:1

Friday, May 7, 2010

A Friday night in Nashville, Tennessee would bring out those who have been in hiding for the week. Rush hour traffic would swell to insurmountable proportions due to the hundreds of people taking advantage of the night life. In Music City, USA, clubs and bars were packed with everyone from college students to the forty-something’s. Blaring music and crowded dance floors took precedence over everything else just for that moment. This is what people became excited about to take them away from the stresses of life.

However, there were a select few who would go in the opposite direction. Even though they loved to get out on a Friday night, it was the more quiet and laidback scene that captivated them.

One such place was a Christian coffeehouse downtown called Harmony. It was a place that soothed and relaxed as gospel music played in the background. It was mostly worship and melodic driven songs, with a little bit of up-tempo praise music mixed in. Frequenters could breathe in the Spirit-filled atmosphere, while sipping on the coffee blend of their choice. This night was different though, because it was a night for spoken word enthusiasts to showcase their talent and cheer others on. Just as it was every other Friday night, Harmony was hosting an “open mic” special.

These nights brought out the same crowd with new faces popping in here and there. One frequent visitor was twenty-six-year-old Jeremiah Washington. He was a young, black professional, with an accounting degree under his belt from Morehouse College. Throughout the week he was about his business as an accountant at IBA, an investment banking firm in Nashville. When it comes to the weekend, however, he’s ready to release the flowing, rhyming words that have been labeled as poetry.

There is no paper in hand, because these words are encapsulated in his mind. But even more, they are buried deep in his heart like a lost treasure obscured in the sand. It’s his turn to put his lips in motion and speak the stanzas he has memorized.

“Let’s give a warm welcome to Jeremiah Washington as he takes the stage!” encouraged the “open mic” MC, Big Bryan.

As this clean cut young man from the eastside of Nashville made his way forward, Jeremiah was greeted with applause from the ones who will tune their ears to hear what he has to say.

“Thank you and God bless you,” he said in acknowledgement of the crowd’s positivity in his bass filled, ‘make the women melt’, kind of voice. “First, I must give praise to my Lord for this opportunity and these words I’m about to share with you. So, for you all tonight, here is ‘Bitter Rain’.”

Jeremiah grabs the tip of his newsboy cap to adjust it from side to side. Then he begins:

“Pain overtakes my heart,

Leaks into my spirit.

As I think these thoughts

But no one wants to hear it.

I cry at night,

Hoping that I can smile in the morning.

But I’m camping in the dark

Because I’m still in mourning.

My face tells one story,

But my spirit tells another.

Masked behind a slight grin,

Every thought of joy soon became smothered.

A hurt spirit questioning why

This is the answer that I received.

Just because it had came time

For them, from this earth, to be set free.

Yet the rain still pours,

And it tastes so bitter.

Had to find the shelter of God

To cover me from this severe weather.”

See, this was a story of heartache and pain, but also of deliverance from a dark place. Jeremiah had lost both of his parents, Rick and Sharon, ten years ago to a horrific and tragic car wreck. They had both died from internal bleeding that could not be stopped. It still hurts Jeremiah to even think about it, but God has brought him to a point where he is able to handle the memory better.

He moved in with his grandmother, Emma, who was Rick’s mother. It worked out for both Jeremiah and Mrs. Emma, because her husband, John, had died in 1996. Every since then, she had lived by herself and didn’t mind her situation. Rick and Sharon offered their home to her shortly after the death, but she emphatically declined the invitation. Losing a husband and a son in a short time span would leave most empty and wondering why it would happen to them. Not Mrs. Emma. She had a peace about her that was awesome. A peace that some found to be strange. But it was the peace of God that was perfectly written all over her. So she was able to carry on with her life, caring and helping in the raising of Jeremiah.

There was no other family around. Jeremiah was the only child. Rick’s two brothers, Steve and Michael, as well as Sharon’s sister, Erica Robinson and her husband, Mark, had abandoned Nashville for better opportunities. They very rarely visited home and hardly ever called to check on Mrs. Emma, or Jeremiah, for that matter. Sharon’s parents were both deceased. So Mrs. Emma was all the family Jeremiah had and could depend on. No siblings. And the only cousins he had were the twins of Michael and Angel, his wife. They were only three years old.

After the car wreck his parents were in, Jeremiah had begun slipping in school. His GPA plummeted from an ideal 4.0 to a less than desirable 2.6. The honors classes he was taking meant nothing to him anymore. He became forgetful about doing assigned homework and would stare at the clock on the wall as his teachers would give their lectures for the day. His focus just wasn’t there. Instead, it was on the loss of the two people so near and dear to him. Jeremiah was in the beginning stages of depression and had no determination to come out of it. He was also a step away from becoming a rebel of life, not fearing any consequences that came his way.

Thank God for Darius, however, who was Jeremiah’s number one confidant in high school. Darius Jackson was as straight edged as Jeremiah and always had Jeremiah’s back, no matter the circumstance. As a matter of fact, Jeremiah and Darius were the two most promising students in Nashville’s Northeast High School. Teachers adored both of their attitudes and vigor, as they had a strong desire to achieve the best. They wanted to accomplish something in life and give back to the community.

Jeremiah had original aspirations of becoming an English teacher, mainly because of his love for writing. And he wanted to instruct young people to have the same passion for the craft. But those plans changed late his senior year in high school as he figured he would make more money as an accountant.

Darius, on the other hand, had always flirted with the idea of engineering. He stuck with it and majored in mechanical engineering with an emphasis in robotics at the University of Kentucky. Darius is now head of research and development at Motions Intellect, Inc., a corporation that specializes in robotics for the medical industry.

Although Darius was teased and had demeaning nicknames being hurled at him in high school for his intelligence, his swagger indicated that the present day was treating him well. He was a man of God whose giving spirit was embodied in an average built frame and bright skin. Always well dressed and polite, he wanted to dismiss the stereotype of black men not wanting to move ahead in life by proving it in his appearance, his actions and his character. And it was Darius’ character that helped pull Jeremiah through his dark days.

While Jeremiah was in his slump, Darius continued to excel in his studies, earning a wheelbarrow full of awards and honors. But Darius couldn’t let his best friend continue to fall while he seemingly prospered. So he spent countless hours encouraging Jeremiah and even praying with him, both over the phone and face to face. It helped, too, that they belonged to the same church, because it allowed them to be in the same youth group together. This gave the opportunity for Darius to minister even more to his buddy since the second grade.

From then on Darius vowed to never let Jeremiah slip away from the confines of his intimate friendship. He promised to stick by Jeremiah’s side and have his back. Their close friendship reminded people of David and Jonathan’s (from the Bible) relationship. It was a relationship that had shown how two people can be so close knit and nearly inseparable. A relationship that had presented two men who could say they loved each other.

Jeremiah and Darius’ friendship was of the same manner. A relationship that grew while ignoring the ignorance of people throwing insinuations about them being romantically involved with each other. It was during that connection that both of them understand that a person’s word should be their bond. Needless to say, they never grew apart.

Back at Harmony, there Darius sat in the enthralled crowd to support his brother, unknowingly to Jeremiah. He was enamored with every word that exited Jeremiah’s mouth by way of this excellent poem. The thought had run across Darius’ mind that “someone is going to be healed by his poem.” Jeremiah finishes his rhyming session:

“Thank God for His wings of protection

That hides me so well

Wrapped around my heart lightly

He was present when my world fell.

Fell all around my concrete feet while it still poured

Couldn’t move from the numbness within

But my Lord chiseled me to freedom

And gave me the needed friend.

God was there to pick up the shattered pieces

Through His abundant grace and glory

I now give Him back the glory

For this is my struggling to standing story.”

“God bless you.”

There it was. Short. Sweet. But it was with substance. That was Jeremiah’s style. Simplistic in structure, yet deep in meaning.

At the final line, the audience gave a clap of approval and even pushed their bodies away from the candle-lit, round tables to stand to their feet. It was a beautiful work from a beautiful spirit. Jeremiah had then made his way down the stage and greeted Darius.

“Man, that was so nice!” said Darius with excitement and a wide smile on his face. The two friends embraced and patted each other’s backs.

“Thanks, D,” replied Jeremiah. “But you know it’s all God and none of me! He gives me the lines and I just spit them out in my own way.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But I know it was hard for you to even get up there tonight with this being the anniversary of you know what. I know your thoughts are on your mom and dad right now.”

“Yeah, they are. But I wanted to get up there. This poetry is part of my healing process. It helps me to express feelings I might otherwise keep bottled in. And God is taking me step by step and strengthening me to not shatter at the thought of their death. Praise God for His peace and comfort, along with people who have been there for me.” Jeremiah gave a grin as he articulated his gratitude.

“I feel you one hundred percent on the whole peace and comfort thing! And you’re my best friend. Why wouldn’t I be there for you? Man, right now, I’m just so proud of you!”

“Thank you, thank you. It felt good being up there, most definitely. But, um, a brotha is hungry! Let’s go find some grub and continue this convo over dinner!”

“I’m with that! Maxine’s?” asked Darius.

“Maxine’s it is!”

Jeremiah and Darius hopped in their separate cars, Jeremiah in his 2009 Lexus ES 350 and Darius in his 2008 Chevrolet Tahoe. They proceeded to drive over to Maxine’s. Now, Maxine’s was the best soul food restaurant in Nashville, maybe even in the entire state of Tennessee! Their specialty? The ever famous chicken and waffles. But these chicken and waffles were different. The meal had a splendid taste that nothing else could compare to. And if that wasn’t enough, how about collard greens, mac and cheese, cornbread, and sweet potato pie, among other delicious food? Yep, Maxine’s had it all!

Maxine’s

Jeremiah and Darius pulled in the parking lot and made their way inside Maxine’s. They were met by the Friday night crowd that usually packed the place to capacity. The hostess greeted them and placed them at a booth near the rear of the restaurant by a window looking out at the busy streets of Nashville. She gave two menus to the hunger-filled young men.

“Your waitress will be right with you,” said the hostess, a face unfamiliar to Jeremiah and Darius.

“Thank you,” responded Jeremiah and Darius almost simultaneously.

“You’re welcome,” smiled back the hostess as she walked away.

“She must be new. Never seen her here before,” said Jeremiah looking back in the hostess’ direction.

“Yeah, probably so. She’s sweet though and not too bad on the eyes either!” replied Darius trying to get one last glimpse of the hostess. There sat two of the most eligible bachelors in Nashville discussing the attractive woman that had just guided them to their table.

Jeremiah snickered. “Yeah, you’re right, but, um, what’s been on your mind, D?” asked Jeremiah quickly changing the subject. “Haven’t talked to you in a couple of weeks.”

“I know man. Just been busy trying to get this new project off of the ground. But not much has been on my mind. Actually been thinking about taking some time off of work this summer and have myself a little vacation! Maybe even visit D.C. for a bit to see Xavier,” reciprocated Darius.

Xavier was Darius’ younger brother who had found a life in Washington D.C. Unlike Jeremiah, Darius’ parents were still living and stayed in Nashville. Plus, he had cousins around that he was attached to.

“Cool. Maybe I can hit D.C. with you, man. I haven’t seen Xavier in forever! Plus D.C. would be a nice getaway from the Nashville scene for a week.”

“That’s not a bad idea! A little road trip would be great! We can take the Tahoe and load up the cooler.”

“Sounds like a plan! Let’s get everything in order and get the details worked out next month.”

“Yeah, we’ll have everything together before the end of June and we’ll head out to D.C. in July. Let’s look to see if there are any church conferences going on that month, Jeremiah.”

“Alright, D. I’ll get on that soon.”

At that time, the waitress came to the table to take their order. Jeremiah and Darius were familiar with the ever friendly, sunshine filled waitress. Her name was Michelle Nace, a soft spoken young lady who was working part-time at Maxine’s while attending Tennessee State University. She was a gorgeous woman with jet black hair, dark skin, and round eyes. But there had been times that even she didn’t believe it herself. Now, God woke her up every morning and she was confident in the fact that she was fearfully and wonderfully made, as she rehearsed over and over Psalms 139:14.

“Hey Jeremiah. Hey D,” addressed Michelle with an enormous smile.

“Hey Michelle,” responded Jeremiah.

Darius chimed in. “Whatsup Michelle?”

“Nothing much. Another night, another dollar. But I got to do what I got to do, right? How are ya’ll tonight?” asked Michelle.

“Blessed!” Jeremiah quickly responded.

“And highly favored!” Darius chuckled.

“I heard that! So am I. Very much so. I can’t complain at all, because God has been so good to me! Let me share some great news with you two. God has opened up the door for me to walk into a job offer after graduation. It has already been set up! Nobody but God! Graduation in December and my career start as a marketing exec in January! I’m so excited about what God is doing in my life!”

“And so you should be,” Jeremiah said as Darius nodded in agreement. “That is such a blessing, Michelle! Praise God for His provision.”

“I know, I know! I’ve been saying that all it takes is a little prayer, praise, and positioning! So I’ve been on my knees, lifting my hands, and positioning myself to be in the right place at the right time! God knows exactly what He is doing and I glorify Him for that!” cried out Michelle, nearly giving a shout of praise right then and there. But she contained herself.

“You better praise the Lord! Look, I know you’re on the clock, but I definitely want to talk to you about all of this later. So I’ll call you. I’m so happy for you and congratulations to you. Always a need to rejoice with those who are rejoicing!” declared Jeremiah.

“Yep, Michelle, I’m happy for you as well. It’s a good to see a young black woman of God move ahead in life while reaping the benefits and blessings of God!” added Darius, almost giving a Holy Ghost shout himself.

“Thank you both for your kind words. And yes, Jeremiah, we will talk later,” said Michelle in a soothing voice as she gave a wink. “So, enough of my testimony. What would you fellows like to eat?”

Darius didn’t waste any time putting in his order. “Hook me up with the catfish, mac and cheese, white beans, cornbread, and a fruit punch, please.”

“Gotchya. How about you Jeremiah?” asked Michelle.

“Let me get the usual sweetie,” answered Jeremiah.

“Chicken and waffles it is! What would you like for sides and what about your drink?”

“The fried potatoes and a lemonade please.”

“Got it down! I will have your drinks in just a second and your food to you a.s.a.p.”

“Thanks darling,” said Jeremiah handing Michelle his menu.

“Thanks Michelle,” added Darius turning over his menu to Michelle.

“No problem gentlemen. Be right back!”

As Michelle left to put in the order, Darius grinned at Jeremiah as though he had a trick up his sleeve.

“Uh oh. What is it D?” murmured Jeremiah as he sighed.

“Man, Jeremiah. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice that look Michelle was giving you! She likes you…a lot! Why don’t you go ahead and ask her out?”

“What look are you talking about?”

Darius tries his best to recreate the facial expression of Michelle to describe this “look” he was referring to. Jeremiah laughs at Darius’ acting attempt.

“Man, you already know that we’re good friends. I can’t ask her out and risk our friendship being destroyed. Besides, I’m waiting on my good thing. You know, my wife, my sure love. I just don’t think Michelle is the one,” said Jeremiah trying to convince his best friend of his feelings.

“That’s just it man! You “think”. But do you know for certain? What is the Lord saying?”

“Man, D, I’ve been…”

At that moment Michelle came back to the table, interrupting the ongoing conversation, placing the drinks on the table. Jeremiah gave a look to Darius as to say, “don’t mention anything!” Darius had thrown up his hand slightly and changed his facial language as to say “ok”.

“Here are your drinks and your food will be out in a little while,” Michelle told the guys. “Oh by the way Jeremiah, I wanted to slip you this. It’s a flyer to the poetry slam happening next Saturday at one p.m. in Centennial Park. TSU is hosting and I believe it’s going to be jumping! Hope you can make it and even lay down a few lines yourself.”

“I think I will drop by and check it out. So what do I do to enter?” inquired Jeremiah glancing at the flyer.

“I’ll throw your name in the hat. I’ll speak to Mr. Hayden, my creative writing professor. He’s heading this up.”

“Thanks Michelle! I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Oh, and D, you can come along too if you like,” invited Michelle.

“I just might roll through. Show some support to my boy!” said Darius slapping Jeremiah on the shoulder.

“Alright then! It’s going to be a good time! Hey, I’ll

be back with your food,” said Michelle as she headed towards the kitchen.

“Thanks sweetie,” said Jeremiah in his gentleman tone.

“Thanks Michelle,” inserted Darius.

Michelle walked off and Jeremiah read the flyer even closer. The information was very detailed: time, location, sponsorship, and even a featured poet headlining the event. An even closer look revealed a cash prize to the winner of the slam. Five hundred dollars to the one with the best flow.

“Man, D, check this out,” Jeremiah instructed Darius as he pointed to the bottom of the flyer. “Five hundred to the top poet! That’s a nice piece of change right there!”

“Yeah, you’re right! Might as well stamp your name on that cash. You’re the best in the city, hands down. Your God-given talent is crazy man!” exclaimed Darius as he sipped a little bit of his fruit punch.

“Thanks D, but I’m going to have to come up with something better than I gave tonight.”

“Better? What you talking about? Man, that word came straight from the heart! That’s the best kind. You have a way of releasing the words as God pours them into your heart, mind, and spirit. Your style is lovely! You got this!”

“Ok, I appreciate the encouragement. I really do,” said Jeremiah as he smacked hands with Darius. “You know D, you have always been the one to lift me up! Your conversations are always on time. I really do appreciate you, brotha.”

“And I appreciate you! Remember, I gave you my word to always stick with you!”

“Yeah, I know. And you haven’t once reneged on that. God’s going to bless you real good for your loyalty.”

“I’m already blessed being your friend, Jeremiah. Couldn’t ask for better! But, um, enough with this mushy stuff,” laughed Darius. “Let’s get back to Michelle!”

Jeremiah chuckled. “Oh boy! Here we go again! I already tried to tell you that…”

Without being able to finish the dialogue about a potential date, Michelle came to the booth. She sat the steaming hot plates down and asked if there was anything else she could get before walking away. After both Jeremiah and Darius declined, she left to tend to other customers. Jeremiah and Darius prayed over their food, keeping it short and sweet.

“Ok, off of Michelle, since we not getting anywhere with that,” cackled Darius. “What you got going on tomorrow?”

“I’m going to go visit Granny and then work on something for this poetry slam,” responded Jeremiah.

“Cool! Don’t forget about men’s prayer Sunday before Sunday School.”

“Man, you know I’m there!”

Darius felt that it was vital to remind Jeremiah about men’s prayer. After all, Darius was co-chair of the men’s group. So why shouldn’t he be a walking billboard for the men at Serenity Baptist Church? Jeremiah, on the other hand, was a youth counselor, giving guidance to teenagers on everything from the Bible to life’s problems.

As the two friends feasted and fellowshipped, they talked about every subject from high school days to the stresses of work and everything in between. They laughed about this and that. They joked about a variety of things. And as Michelle kept coming back to check on them, they continued to converse with her. But never once did they get around to talking about a love connection between Jeremiah and Michelle.

After dinner, they removed themselves from the table, paid for their meals and left a handsome tip. They saved some conversation until the next time, when best friends can get together again.

Chapter 2: The Visit

Saturday May 8, 2010

The buzzing sound from Jeremiah’s bedside alarm clock filled his spacious bedroom, waking him up from a good sleep. It was eight in the morning, which actually wasn’t too early of a start for Jeremiah, since he was use to getting up for work each morning.

So he pulled back the covers and placed his feet on the ground to begin his day. It was going to be a busy one that included visiting Granny Emma, buying some clothes, talking with Michelle, and of course, writing a little poetry. But first, devotion was on the agenda. He opened his Bible to the book of Psalms, chapter one, read the scripture and contemplated on what it was speaking to him:

1How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked,

Nor stand in the path of sinners,

Nor sit in the seat of scoffers!

2 But his delight is in the law of the Lord,

And in His law he meditates day and night.

3 He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water,

Which yields its fruit in its season

And its leaf does not wither;

And in whatever he does, he prospers.

4 The wicked are not so,

But they are like chaff which the wind drives away.

5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,

Nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.

6 For the Lord [e]knows the way of the righteous,

But the way of the wicked will perish.

Psalms was Jeremiah’s favorite book in the Bible, because of the way it reminded him of poetry. The words, the structure. It all reminded him of the very craft he had perfected.

A few minutes of prayer soon followed, asking God to direct his path, the same he had prayed each waking day.

Jeremiah then walked into the kitchen and cracked open the refrigerator door to take out the carton of eggs, the pack of bacon, and a bottle of orange juice. He proceeded to crack a couple of eggs into a bowl to scramble them and threw two pieces of bacon into the black skillet sitting on top of the stove. He seasoned the eggs and threw them into the unoccupied skillet placed on the next eye. He slid two pieces of wheat bread in the toaster and awaited the finished product.

The aroma in the kitchen was music to Jeremiah’s nostrils! The eggs were like the melody accompanied by the notes of the sizzling bacon. When everything had finished cooking and the savory song was complete, Jeremiah had devoured every morsel, washing it down with a glass of ice cold orange juice while praising to the latest gospel tunes.

After eating breakfast, Jeremiah turned down the volume on his Bose stereo and picked up his house phone. He wanted to talk to Mrs. Emma to give her heads up about his visit to her house later on that day. Jeremiah dialed Mrs. Emma’s number, the same number she had for the past thirty-eight years, which was how long she had lived at the exact address of 743 Hardin Lane.

A sweet sounding elderly voice answered the other end. “Hello?”

“Hey Granny! How are you?” inquired Jeremiah. He was always excited about talking to his grandmother. The very grandmother who had raised him up to be the man he is. Never skipping a beat, she always had him sitting in church and she made sure he had kept his nose in his books. Hearing Mrs. Emma’s voice one more time gave Jeremiah the assurance his grandmother would be there for him another day.

“Hey baby! I’m good.” Mrs. Emma had always called Jeremiah “baby” and rarely called him by his given name. “A little tired, but God is still blessing me! He let me see today, a day not promised to no man. So who am I to fuss, right? How is my baby doing this fine morning?”

Mrs. Emma sounded like a cd on repeat, always saying the same thing seemingly everyday.

“You’re right Granny. No room for fussing!” Jeremiah agreed. “God has taken such good care of us and thank Him for a brand new mercy. But I’m wonderful! Just getting my day started.”

“Amen! So what are you doing today?”

“Well, I just finished eating a delicious breakfast and now I’m about to get ready so I can hit the road to come see you, Granny!”

“I would surely love that! I know you stay busy, but I only get to see you once a week. But come on over! I’ll be here. Oh, and I have a pecan pie fresh out of the oven waiting for you. Now, I know you can’t resist that!

Mrs. Emma’s pies were the best on this side of the country. Whether it was apple, sweet potato, or chess, she could have opened up her own bakery. But she never wanted profit, just wanted to give them out of love. A retired school teacher, Mrs. Emma constantly baked pies for other teachers and her students on occasion. It was something about her pecan pies, however, that people made a big fuss over. To this day, even Jeremiah still doesn’t know the secret to her delectable pastries.

“Oh Granny, you got my mouth watering now!” exclaimed Jeremiah, daydreaming about a slice of pecan pie. “Can’t wait to get a slice. By the way, do you need anything from the store?”

“No baby, I’m fine. I don’t need anything. Just will be happy to see my grandson!”

“Ok, Granny. Well I will see you in a couple of hours. I’m going to finish getting ready. I love you.”

“Love you too, baby. See you in a bit.”

“See you, Granny.”

At that moment, Jeremiah made his way to the shower to clean up and done the normal routine of deodorant, grooming and cologne. He gathered his freshly pressed clothes to slip on his body, placed his shades on his face, and headed out the door, which he had locked and set the alarm.

He had joy written all over his face because of his visit to Mrs. Emma’s house. It was though he was a child all over again; going to see his grandmother, eating homemade chocolate chip cookies, drinking freshly squeezed lemonade and sitting on the front porch letting the mild wind touch his face. Child or grown man, Jeremiah loved his Granny all the same and had pleasure in visiting her when he had the chance.

Mrs. Emma’s House

They say you can learn a lot by sitting at the feet of older generations. Wisdom flows from the experiences of the ones who fought through segregation, civil rights movements, and the deepest form of racism America has ever seen. It is something that can’t be taught, but it is gained through life’s trials.

Jeremiah immensely enjoyed the words of wisdom that was poured into him every time he was in the company of Mrs. Emma. She told historical stories of the very things that were unknown to Jeremiah’s generation, such as the aforementioned bouts with the separation of blacks and whites. He was anxious to see what she wanted to share with him this time around. Perhaps it was another story of injustice or maybe memories of walking many miles to school. Or it could even be about her living in days of presidents that half the kids today couldn’t even name. Whatever it was, it was sure to be a fantastic time, as always.

Jeremiah walked up to Mrs. Emma’s house that he may enter in. It was the same ranch style, half brick, half siding house that had been inhabited by Mrs. Emma for those thirty-eight years. She had renovations done to it in order to keep it up to date, but she never wanted to sell it. She loved the area she was in and didn’t want to move. The home was snuggled in a quaint and quiet neighborhood located on the eastside of Nashville. It was about twenty-five minutes from where Jeremiah had lived.

The beautiful oak door at the front of the house was hidden by a black screen door. Mrs. Emma usually left the oak door open in the warmer months to experience God’s natural air and save on the cost of cooling her home. Jeremiah once pleaded with his grandmother to keep the doors locked at all times. But Mrs. Emma insisted on doing the opposite, because of her claim to not be scared of anything happening. She said the Lord was with her at all times! Jeremiah couldn’t argue with that fact, but still felt that Mrs. Emma needed to be cautious about protecting herself and her property. Mrs. Emma’s attitude was a far cry from the attitude of most elderly residents living in Nashville. They would shiver and panic just at the sight of anyone who looked suspicious. Jeremiah thought a little common sense should have been mixed in with his grandmother’s reliance on God. Yet, he allowed Mrs. Emma to have her way.

The screen door screeched as Jeremiah opened it to step inside. He gave an introduction to himself as he moved past the door into the den so he wouldn’t startle Mrs. Emma. “Granny it’s me!” Jeremiah walked into the smell of the pecan pie Mrs. Emma had baked earlier. His thoughts instantaneously turned to cutting a slice of that pie! But he held off so he could greet his grandmother.

“I’m in the living room, baby,” said Mrs. Emma. There she sat in her cherry wood rocker with two large knitting needles, one in each hand. She was crocheting a blue baby blanket for the newest addition to the neighborhood, a baby boy named Caleb. “There’s my handsome grandson!”

“Hey Granny!” spoke Jeremiah as he leaned over to kiss his grandmother. “What you doing?”

“I’m making a blanket for Toya’s baby boy. Just about finished.”

“Toya Moore?” asked Jeremiah as he made his way into the kitchen to cut a slice of pie. “The one down the street? I didn’t even know she was expecting.”

“Yes baby, that’s her. She actually had him last month. His name is Caleb.”

“Who’s the father?” asked Jeremiah as he sat on the couch perpendicular to the rocking chair. He began to devour the scrumptious pecan pie slice.

“Terrick Farley,” answered Mrs. Emma. “I don’t exactly approve of him. I think he’s into some bad stuff. Just gives me a weird feeling. But all I can do is pray for Toya and Caleb. And maybe Terrick will turn around and do right by his son.”

“I pray he does. It’s about time more of these young fathers step up and take responsibility. Granny, rest assure, I’m going to do right by my child when God blesses me with them,” Jeremiah said with conviction.

“I know you will. Your parents taught you about responsibility at a young age and I continued to teach you when your parents had died.”

“Yes ma’am, you did. You taught me a lot. Not just about responsibility, but about being a good, Christian man period. I’m so grateful for you Granny! I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to look after me!”

“Aww, baby! You gonna make an old, ugly woman cry! But I can say that you have grown up to be a fine and wonderful young man. Even the bridge club has noticed how good looking you have become! You have made me proud on so many occasions and I thank God for the man you are today. Now if we can get a young lady to recognize that and get you married!”

“Oh Granny! Not yet. I’m definitely waiting on God for that. Right now, I’m focused on my job, my poetry, and my ministry with the youth at church.”

“That’s good and everything. But you can at least have one date. You know, live a little! Don’t let life pass you by. What about that sweet girl, Michelle?”

Jeremiah laughed. “You sound like Darius, Granny. Michelle is a dear, dear friend. Nothing more. And I want us to remain friends. She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met. But I can’t see us at the next level.”

“The sweetest woman, huh?” Mrs. Emma looked at Jeremiah out of the corner of her eyes with disapproval. “What about your old, tired Granny?” she asked with a sly smile.

“Ok, so Michelle is the second sweetest woman,” chuckled Jeremiah as he gave Mrs. Emma a kiss on the cheek.

“Ha ha. That’s more like it! But baby, I hear what you are saying about Michelle and you being friends and all. But remember, God works in mysterious ways!”

“You’re right, Granny. God does work in mysterious ways. But God’s favor ain’t in that!”

“Ok baby, if you say so. But watch what happens. Granny knows, Jeremiah. Granny knows!” said Mrs. Emma, not missing a beat in her rocker.

“You do have impeccable wisdom, Granny. And I…”

Mrs. Emma interrupted Jeremiah in mid-sentence. “No son. What I have is discernment by the Holy Spirit. God shows me things and He shows them to me ever so clearly. When Granny has left this earth, you’ll be saying ‘Granny told me I would marry her’.”

“Oh, Granny. Don’t you talk like that. Talking about leaving this earth.”

“Why are you afraid to hear it Jeremiah? You’re adult enough for us to talk about it and know it’s going to happen one of these days. I’m not afraid to talk about it, because death is a part of life. I have the peace of God, baby and that calms my spirits about leaving one of these days.”

“I just don’t want to think about it, Granny. You’re all I have. And when that day comes, I don’t know how I will handle it.”

“Nonsense! You have the Lord, Jeremiah. He’s who you have and He’s all you need. Allow Him to be your comfort and your guide through life. People fade away, baby, but the Lord is forever.”

“You’re right, Granny. I guess it’s just scary. I lost my parents and now you’re talking about leaving. But as you have said, I have to trust in God. After all, He did get me through my parents’ death, although it wasn’t easy. But I’m sure of the fact He will get me through again. Granny, you sure do know how to straighten me out! I love you so much!” Jeremiah told Mrs. Emma hugging her tightly.

“I love you too, baby! Now, let’s talk about something else. Hand me that picture of your grandfather,” Mrs. Emma instructed, pointing at the framed picture on the wall. It was a large, brilliantly wood framed picture of John Washington.

“Yes ma’am.” Jeremiah removes the portrait from the wall and Mrs. Emma walked toward the couch to sit beside her grandson. Jeremiah helps his grandmother prop up the somewhat heavy picture.

“Jeremiah, I want to share something with you about this man.”

“But Granny, you have shared so much about Grandpa already. Military stories, civil rights marches, meeting famous and influential people, growing up in poverty. What more could it be? I literally thought Grandpa was the black version of Superman, he has so many super hero stories!” Jeremiah carried on with a hearty laugh.

“Oh boy, hush!” Mrs. Emma responded, laughing along with Jeremiah.

“Sorry, Granny. I’ll behave,” Jeremiah said, giving a mockingly puppy dog face.

“What I wanted to share with you is our love story. It is an incredible one!”

“Why haven’t I heard it before, Granny?”

“Because it wasn’t time.” Jeremiah didn’t quite understand what that meant. “Now it is. You’re getting one step closer to that special relationship each day God allows you to see. And maybe, just maybe, this story will help you out. I’m telling you this, because John reminds me so much of you. Besides the good looks, you’re stubborn just like he was.”

“Stubborn?” asked Jeremiah, confused.

“Yes, stubborn! He didn’t listen and neither do you when it comes to this love thing!”

Jeremiah had the most puzzled look on his face. He couldn’t believe the tongue lashing he had received, albeit a loving and caring one. Him stubborn? ‘Nah, can’t be. I’m nowhere near stubborn,’ he thought to himself.

Mrs. Emma continued with her story. A moment of flashback occurred as she reminisced about her God-given husband.

“John was a senior in high school at Rosewood Academy. Me, I was just starting high school. So I wasn’t very familiar with a lot of people at all. Basically, just the ones who were in the same grade I was. I was shy and didn’t talk to many of the other kids. I always wanted them to be the conversation starters. And of course, that meant I was very afraid to talk to boys, period. I just hung my head, stared at the ground and never hardly looked up. But like any other teenage girl, I wanted a boyfriend. I knew no guy would want to date me if I couldn’t even say hi to them, though. So I tried not thinking about it and was content in knowing I would never have a boyfriend. I wanted to be ok with that.”

A slight pause allowed Jeremiah to get up from the couch and pace toward the kitchen. “Excuse me, Granny.”

“Where are you going Jeremiah? I’m not finished with the story!”

“I know, Granny. But I had to get some more of that pie! Lawd have mercy, it is good!” Jeremiah scrunched up his face as though he had smelled a baby’s dirty diaper. His facial expression told how his belly was delighted!

“Well, ok baby. But hurry back!” Mrs. Emma told Jeremiah.

A couple of minutes later, Jeremiah sat back down on the couch with another hunk of pie and a tall class of milk. “Ok, Granny, I’m ready!”

“Where was I? Oh! As I was saying, I was content. But that’s when the one and only John Washington entered the picture. Six-three. Muscular. Curly hair. Football player. My, my, my! At first glance I knew I wanted him and I was going to get him if it was the last thing I would do. I no longer wanted to be content.” Mrs. Emma said with a chuckle. “I wanted to be John’s lady!”

Jeremiah shook his head as to say ‘she is too much!’

“Well, I did!” Mrs. Emma declared in response to Jeremiah’s body language. “And I was going to get him too! Didn’t know how, didn’t know when. Just knew he was mine for the taking. Oh, John was my love and we hadn’t even spoken yet.”

Jeremiah squirmed on the couch to try to get more comfortable. He knew it was going to be a long story. He loved Mrs. Emma to death, but if he could had told her to just get to the point, he would have. But he knew he wouldn’t want to be disrespectful to his grandmother. He just wanted to know about this comparison of being stubborn. What did she mean by that? But instead of asking his grandmother to speed it up, he sat quietly and listened attentively to the rest of the story.

“Am I boring you, Jeremiah?”

“No ma’am. Just getting comfortable. I’m fine though. Interested in this story,” Jeremiah said with a half grin, knowing he was telling the half-truth.

“Good! As I was saying, John was my love. So I told my girlfriends about it. And my closest friend, Sally, went and ran her big mush mouth to John, even though I told her not to. According to Sally, he said he did like me. But with Sally, you never knew if she was lying or not. She was just a big blabber mouth! Well, apparently, she wasn’t lying. But do you know it took forever for that man to ask me out? He kept denying to the other guys he had feelings for me. He said he liked Janine better, who was Miss Everything! Now, this is according to Mary Ann, my friend who overheard every conversation around. She could even hear two flies arguing between themselves.”

Mrs. Emma looked at Jeremiah with a deep stare. The same stare parents gave children when it was time to get a “switch” off of the tree because they were in trouble. Jeremiah knew that stare all too well and wondered what he did wrong.

“What is it Granny? Did I do something?” asked Jeremiah.

“No, Jeremiah. But this is where John reminded me of you with his stubbornness.” Jeremiah thought to himself, ‘oh boy here it comes!’ “He just flat out refused to admit he liked me. Just like you won’t admit your feelings for Michelle. We would pass each other in the hall and he would barely look at me, never speaking. I don’t know why men always want to look macho in front of their boys!”

“That was messed up, Granny. If he had feelings for you, why wouldn’t he just say so? To me, it’s harder to keep your feelings bottled in. That, in turn, can cause a person to become defensive when the situation is always staring them in the face.”

“You’re so right, son. But you need to listen closely to your own words. John didn’t say anything for the same reason you won’t say anything to Michelle. You’re afraid. And fear shouldn’t be a part of you, Jeremiah.”

“I just don’t want to mess up what Michelle and I share. What we have is very special. Her friendship means a lot to me.”

“Yes, I understand. But because a relationship and potential marriage will be ordained by God, it will be special too. As a matter of fact, even more special than the friendship you have now. What you two share now will be enhanced by the entrance of the Holy Spirit. But you have to let go of yourself, step out on faith, and latch onto God to receive a clear vision and the blessing he has for you. After John snubbed me, I lost hope of us ever being an item. It wasn’t until seven years after I graduated did I see him again. That’s when he received the vision of us being together. I had already seen the picture God had painted. And maybe Michelle sees the picture of you two being together. But you’re just too stubborn to notice it.”

“Wow, seven years? It took that long Granny?”

“Yes, that long. But it was well worth the wait.” Mrs. Emma tries to secretly grab her chest, hoping to not startle Jeremiah. She would experience these sharp pains from time to time. They were due to her bout with high blood pressure. They would come and go, so she thought nothing of them.

Jeremiah caught her in the act and was awfully concerned. “Granny, are you alright?”

“Yes, son. I just need my blood pressure medicine. I’ll be fine.”

Jeremiah grabbed Mrs. Emma’s blood pressure pills from a palette of medicine on the dining room table. There was a little of everything from pain inhibitors to multivitamins. He placed two pills in her hand along with a glass filled with tap water.

As quickly as the pain had surfaced, it had left. Mrs. Emma was ready to carry on with her story, again, not thinking anything of it. But Jeremiah wouldn’t let his concern subside. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital, Granny?”

“No Jeremiah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me! The Lord will take care of me,” Mrs. Emma reassured Jeremiah as she patted him on the hand. Jeremiah loved the fact that his grandmother had a fantastic faith, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her to take care of herself. Yet Mrs. Emma’s mind was on her story rather than her pain. “I want to finish this story, baby.”

“Ok, Granny, if you say so. But if you need to get to the hospital, please, please let me know and I’ll take you.”

“I will, son. I promise, you are as overprotective as your father was,” Mrs. Emma giggled.

“Yeah, I guess I am, huh? I just want you well, Granny.”

“And I appreciate that about you, Jeremiah. But can I please finish what I was telling you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jeremiah laughed.

“Thank you! So let’s see…” Mrs. Emma tried to recall where she had left off. It took her a little while, but it came to her. “Oh yeah! So I run into John at the grocery store one day. He was in town visiting his mother. We had the most wonderful conversation by the apples. Believe it or not, it was actually our very first conversation. We talked about everything you could imagine and got caught up. So much so, I had lost track of time. We talked about a slew of things, from what was going on in our lives to some of the crazy friends we had in high school. After our goodbyes, he went back to Alabama and wrote me a letter. Let me find it for you.”

Mrs. Emma mustered up enough strength in her bones to get up from the couch, walnut wood cane in hand. She went towards her bedroom to fetch the love letter she received from John nearly forty-eight years ago. It was tucked away in an old shoe box. She wanted Jeremiah to have possession of it. But why?

Meanwhile, in the living room, Jeremiah continued to look at his grandfather’s picture, reflecting on the greatness that was John Washington. Then he looked over at the opposite wall and stared at the portrait of his parents. It had shown the attractive couple, smiling in front of a woodsy backdrop, the two bound together by love. But he tried to quickly look away so his emotions would be held in check.

All the pictures he had of his parents were neatly tucked away under his bed so he wouldn’t have to be reminded so much of their deaths. By some miraculous gesture, we would just hope that it wouldn’t no longer affect him.

Even at that time of looking at Mrs. Emma’s picture of Rick and Sharon, Jeremiah tried to convince himself to get over it and move on. But was it really that easy? He found out it wasn’t. He even felt his left eye fill with a tear, which he wiped away. After all this time, it still hurt. Not as bad as the day after their death, but it still hurt. He wanted to focus on something else, so he scanned the room for another object.

At that time, Mrs. Emma trekked her way back into the living room with the aid of her cane. Her right hip was playing out on her and it gave her a bit of pain when any pressure was applied. But she was determined to get that letter, which she had in her left hand, enclosed in the original envelope. It had turned yellow, along with the notebook paper with the words of emotion written on it. She proceeded to hand it to her grandson. “Here Jeremiah, take this. You don’t have to read it now, but read it soon. Write it in your heart and take notes in your spirit. I’m giving you this, because you keep running from what you should be pursuing.”

“Michelle? Granny, please listen to…” Jeremiah stopped in mid-sentence and looked at the aged envelope. Then he looked at his grandmother with a smile. “Ok, Granny, I will.”

“Thank you, Jeremiah. That’s all I ask,” grinned Mrs. Emma.

“Well Granny, I need to run some errands. But before I go, I have something for you. Let me go to the car and get it.”

Jeremiah went outside and opened the left side, rear passenger door. He grabbed hold of a flat, gift-wrapped package and took it off the floor, from between the backseat and the back of the driver’s seat. He went back inside the house and sat on the couch with the package in hand.

“I want to give this to you Granny. You are very special to me and my life. No one could ever take your place in my heart. I wanted to show my gratitude to you and show you I know I’m blessed to have you.” He handed the package over to Mrs. Emma. She didn’t waste any time ripping open the pretty paper that enclosed the gift. The removal of the paper unveiled a framed poem Jeremiah had written specially for his grandmother. Mrs. Emma was overtaken with joy. “Here Granny, let me read it to you. It’s entitled ‘Matriarch’.”

Jeremiah carried on to read:

More than knowledge, wisdom endures.

More than love, a grandmother’s compassion, passion so blessed and so pure.

A hug, a kiss means more than any possession

Nothing can outdo a grandmother’s connection.

The way she comforts through every hurt,

Her affection to a broken heart, she inserts.

A teacher of life’s lessons, she pours into my spirit,

A moment of unhealthy living,

She knows how to cure it.

Chocolate cake and apple pies

Satisfies

The physical hunger

But she feeds, by history’s spoon, the generations younger.

Thank God for the grandmother who spent time to call on the Lord,

Forever on her knees, drawing her sword

Of the Spirit.

A grandmother’s prayer that reigns forever.

That touches like a bird’s delicate feather.

So this is to the grandmother who never let go,

Yet took the time and gave God control.

One who instructed, guided and led,

And fed me God’s daily bread.

Appreciation to you

Sincere and true

Gratitude

Is what I give to you.

The matriarch, the queen who is royal in every way,

Thank you for the love you spread every day.

This is my loving note of praise for you,

For you have made me into a man brand new.

Jeremiah signed the poem like any other poem he had written. J.S. Washington. He added the tag “Your Grandson” to it. He turned to Mrs. Emma and let out in a soft tone, “I love you Granny.”

“Oh baby, I love you too! You are so sweet and I just love, love the poem! Thank you so much for this! I think I’ll keep this in my bedroom. That way I can reflect on it every night before I go to sleep. Thank you!” Mrs. Emma and Jeremiah embraced in a heartfelt hug. Jeremiah then gave Mrs. Emma a kiss on the cheek as a sign of goodbye.

“Well Granny, I’m going to get out of here. If you need anything, you call my cell, ok? Oh, and thank you for the pie! You never fail to please my tummy!”

“Ok, Jeremiah, I will. And you are so welcome. I’ll have more waiting for you next weekend if you come see your old Granny! You be careful driving.”

“Yes ma’am. I will see you next weekend for some more pie and conversation. I’ll stop by before the poetry slam,” Jeremiah said with a beaming smile.

“See you then, baby.”

Jeremiah didn’t like saying goodbye and neither did Mrs. Emma. To them, goodbye felt like forever. Instead, saying “see you later” left the door open for one more visit.

Jeremiah unlocked his car and departed from his grandmother’s house, waving as he backed out of the driveway. On the way home, he stopped by his favorite clothing shop to get some new clothes for both work and leisure. Then he went home to concentrate on the poem he would perform at the poetry slam.

Jeremiah sat at his desk, restless due to his blank mind. He had no idea what to write. He wanted it to top anything else he had written before. But even after praying, he still didn’t have the first word on paper in his poetry notebook. Not one single word. Not even the title.

So instead of stressing over it, Jeremiah decides to call Michelle before hitting the bed. It was then nine o’clock p.m. It wasn’t a long conversation, however. It was one that consisted of Jeremiah digging for more information on Michelle’s recent success. They also talked about the upcoming poetry slam and the possible line up of poets for the event. Yet, still not a single word about a date. Friends were all they were and were all they were going to be. Well, maybe to Jeremiah. But how did Michelle feel? If there was any notion of her wanting to take it to the next level, it was well hidden. That gave Jeremiah the idea Michelle felt the same way as he did.

But if friendship was all Jeremiah was seeking, why did he have this strange feeling overcome him? The type of feeling that said “I want us to be together”, not “I want us to be friends.” He wanted to say something, but all he released was faint air from between his lips. The opportunity had slipped away. He had his chance and he blew it. But it didn’t bother him that much. In his mind, it was a sign it wasn’t meant to be anyway. Michelle said goodnight and Jeremiah said see you later. It was a forty-five minute conversation that, in a perfect world, would have ended with two friends taking a plunge into the river of love. But the phones were hung up until the next time.

At that moment, Jeremiah had lied across his bed, dressed in his blue pajama bottoms and bleached white t-shirt. He had his grandmother’s love letter in his hand and commenced to read it.

The oxidized paper read:

February 20th, 1963

Dearest Emma,

How are you doing? I hope you don’t mind me writing you this letter. And I hope you don’t mind me getting your address from a dear friend of mine. But I just had to write you so I could get some things off my chest.

First of all, Emma, I believe you are one of the most amazing women I’ve ever met in my lifetime. I was a fool for not getting to know you in high school, but I let my friends influence my thinking which wasn’t right by any means. If I had any sense back then, I would have gotten to know you for myself and would have ignored everything everybody else was saying.

The fact of the matter is that I did like you back in high school. There is no denying that. But I just wasn’t willing to risk losing my friends because I liked the girl that everybody else had seen as the outcast. Now, I’m willing to take any risk there is to be with you. I believe in second chances and I don’t want to lose you again.

After we had talked in the grocery store, I knew then that my feelings for you had not changed. Sure, I had been with other women that seemed to tickle my fancy, but none of them were quite like Emma Dorset. I had to come home and pray to God about you and me being together. God made it so clear that you were the one for me and to quit running. Face my feelings and do the right thing. That is why I’m writing you this letter.

You showed me that you are such a sweet woman and definitely a praying woman. You are beautiful from the inside out and your presence brings such warmth to even the coldest room. You have one of the most gorgeous smiles I have ever laid eyes on. And your personality is so loving and inviting. What man wouldn’t want a woman such as yourself by their side?

I gave my life to Christ eight years ago, as you know, and I’ve been loving it ever since. Now I want to give myself to you, Emma. I want to be what you need in a man and love you from sun up to sun down everyday God allows us to see.

I’ll be coming back to Nashville in a few months to live. My time in the military is just about up and I’m looking to live a new life. My only wish at this time is that this new life will include you in it. We’ve wasted time as it is and I pray to God you won’t be going steady with anybody by time I get to you, because I feel we belong together.

All I can ask is you take time to think about what I’ve said. If you’re answer is yes to being with me, then meet me at Rosewood on May 14th at noon. No need to respond to this letter. I’ll be sitting on the bench at Rosewood awaiting my love to show and say “yes”.

You take care of yourself Emma. And if I don’t see you in May, then I know what the answer is. Stay sweet, Miss Emma Dorset.

Sincerely,

John C. Washington

Needless to say, Emma met John at Rosewood Academy on May fourteenth and the rest was history. They committed to each other that day and got married one year later. There was no human love stronger than the one they shared and it trickled down to Rick and Sharon’s marriage.

Jeremiah folded the letter back to its perfect creases and stuffed it back in the envelope. He slipped it in the top drawer of the nightstand and turned off the lamp. It was getting late and he needed to be rested for church in the morning. Men’s prayer, Sunday School, and morning worship was going to occupy the first half of the day. He wanted to be fully alert for everything, especially the sermon. Pastor H.M. Graves was going to go with a sermon entitled “I Surrender to You”.

Jeremiah laid his head on the pillow, in the pitch dark bedroom and contemplated on some things. He said his nightly prayers, and then drifted off to sleep to hopefully dream a sweet dream and be awakened by God’s kiss in the morning.

Chapter 3: Poetry Slam

Friday, May 14, 2010

Harmony was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed and blended coffee, cappuccinos, and frappuccinos. Biscottis laid on plates next to the variety of coffee-laden cups as the patrons listened to the spoken word participants. One by one, they stepped on the risen platform and overlooked the wide-eyed people.

Tonight’s “open mic” had a special theme attached to it. Every person who walked up on stage to give their best had to be a poet on “love” for that one night. Big Bryan announced the names as they clasped the microphone hoping to give a riveting performance. Poets such as Doc Red and Reason rapped about the love between a man and a woman with God in the center. Other poets, namely Shade and Miss T, rhymed words about the untainted agape love from God. Jeremiah had yet to perform. He was next.

Big Bryan introduced Jeremiah to the stage, one that felt like home to him. He decided to do a poem he had worked on earlier in the week, still hoping to save his best for the TSU Poetry Slam.

He opened with his usual line. “Thank you and God bless you all.” The crowd was smiling as he scanned for facial expressions and a feel for their warmth. It was definitely present. “For you tonight, I would like to do ‘Blinded Love’.”

Hidden

Well hidden

Are these feelings

I’ve been dealing

With

Feelings undeniable

But denied

Heart so blind

Can’t see from shuttered eyes.

But by grace

Another chance

To be a part of this dance

That I always dance from.

But why

Do I

Keep fighting love so close?

I may never understand

My own fears and hesitation

My bounded reservation

That keeps me away.

Do I?

Or do I not?

Follow the direction of the tug

When it is more than a nudge.

A tap on the heart

A speaker in my mind

That reverbs my denial

That I want to try.

But

Hidden

Well hidden

Are these feelings

Inside.

I continue to be blind

Yes, choose to be blind

Feelings so easy,

Yet so hard to find

Hidden

Well hidden

Are these feelings

Inside.

The crowd applauded. Jeremiah didn’t have a nickname like the rest, but he sure could lay down some lines. He had a gift that could not be denied. Yet in his humble heart, he always denied having that gift by his own power. He would always praise God for what was given to him.

That night, Darius wasn’t in the crowd. But Jeremiah knew he wouldn’t be, due to him putting in overtime hours at work so he could give attention to this new project. Jeremiah trusted his best friend would be at the slam though, so it was no big deal to him. Michelle was present, however. Incognito like a winter’s ghost, she slipped in and out without being noticed.

Jeremiah placed one foot in front of the other until he had reached the door. He decided to not stick around for the rest of the “open mic” night.

His intentions were not to be brash by leaving abruptly. Yet he wanted to get home to relax and rest his eyes and body for the next day. So he sat down behind the steering wheel of his car and headed to his house.

Jeremiah’s House

While roaming the two-story fanciness of his home, Jeremiah received a call on his cell phone. He picked up his Blackberry and hit the green “send” button to answer the call. His expression was that of shock. “Hello?” Breathing hard on the other end was Michelle.

“You was the first person I could think of to call. Please help me Jeremiah!” said Michelle in high alarm.

“What’s going on, Michelle? What’s wrong?” questioned Jeremiah.

That’s when Michelle broke down and cried as though she was a baby seeing the world for the first time. “He…He…” That was all she could manage to get out through every groan of despair.

“He what? Who?” asked Jeremiah, confused and unsure of this “he” Michelle spoke of. “Michelle, I need you to calm down for me! Breathe sweetie! I’m gonna come to you, ok? Are you at home?” Jeremiah was unsure of Michelle’s location because she called from her cell phone.

“Yes…” said Michelle, barely breathing and gasping for every drop of air she could find.

“Ok. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t go anywhere and make sure your doors are locked!” Jeremiah ends the frantic call and jumps in his car. He speeds off into heavy traffic to hurriedly get to his friend.

Michelle’s Apartment

Jeremiah finally arrived at Michelle’s apartment after about fifteen minutes of driving and speeding. He ran up the stairs to 3B and knocked heavily on the door. Michelle peered through the peep hole and noticed who it was. She slowly opened the door to let Jeremiah in. There she stood. Face was wet from all the shed tears. Makeup had run so much that her face looked like a novice painter’s canvas…bad.

“What in the world is going on Michelle?” inquired Jeremiah.

Words were left unspoken. Michelle held on to Jeremiah tightly and wouldn’t let go. Jeremiah hugged her in return and the two stood in the foyer, embracing for what seemed to be an eternity.

After the moment of silence, Jeremiah and Michelle sat on her less-than-lavish couch. It was there that she told Jeremiah why she was in such frenzy.

“I had left Harmony tonight during your performance,” Michelle started. “You didn’t know I was there and I wanted to surprise you. I really wanted to stay for your whole poem, but I got a text message. It was from Khrystal and she wanted me to meet her at Crosswalk to talk about something important. So that’s when I left Harmony.”

Khrystal Davis was Michelle’s best friend and Crosswalk was a restaurant not too far from Harmony. It was the favorite eating spot of Michelle and Khrystal, just like Maxine’s was to Jeremiah and Darius. Michelle carried on:

“I go to my car so I can meet Khrystal. But this guy grabbed me from behind and I was so scared. I didn’t even notice anyone suspicious around.” Michelle paused to allow the flowing of tears once more. After an instant of hesitation, she resumed. “He took me around the side of the building and started feeling on me. I told him to stop and tried to squirm away, but couldn’t. His grip was too strong. I was devastated and didn’t know what to do. He looked at me and told me ‘don’t you move and don’t try to scream.’ He called me all kinds of names.”

The look on Jeremiah’s face said it all. He was furious and angry, but hurt had found its way into the mix of emotions as well. How could anyone do this? Why would anyone do this? Jeremiah had kept silent until he decided to ask, “Did you see what he looked like?”

“I couldn’t,” responded Michelle. “It was too dark. All I remember is his voice. It was harsh and raspy. Not at all pleasant. And he was strong. Very strong. I couldn’t break away. All I could do is pray to God. He kept telling me to shut up. But the more he threatened me, the more I prayed.” Michelle was still wiping away tears. They wouldn’t cease.

“Did he go any further? Did he hurt you Michelle?” posed Jeremiah.

“Not physically, but emotionally he did. But I finally escaped, ran to my car, and drove away as fast as I could.”

“How did you escape?”

“By the mercy of God, Jeremiah. That’s all I could tell you. I believe he was distracted by a couple of police officers in the area. I ran when he let go.”

“Why didn’t you flag the police down, Michelle?”

“I was scared, Jeremiah! When you’re fearing for your life, you lose all sense of being. You can’t even think straight. I just wanted to go home! But how do I know he doesn’t know where I live?”

“Don’t worry about that. I doubt he does. Just some random thug trying to hurt you. It’s going to be alright, Michelle. You need to go to the police.”

“How can I when I don’t even know what he looks like? I can’t go there and not be able to give a description. I’m too scared to even leave my house now, but I’m also scared to be here by myself.”

“It’s going to be alright sweetie. God’s protection is with you,” Jeremiah tried to reassure Michelle. “I’ll stay with you tonight. And I’ll sleep on the couch.”

It was against Jeremiah’s better judgment to spend the night with Michelle. All he could think about was what his grandmother taught him about not spending nights with a girl that wasn’t his wife. And definitely not “shacking” up with anyone. It was against the very thing God had established for a man and woman to share: the covenant and sanctity of marriage. Jeremiah was in conflict of the decision to make. But this was his good friend. He couldn’t abandon her in her time of need.

“I can’t ask you to do that Jeremiah. I’ll just take a chance on getting out tonight and go over to Khrystal’s for a couple of nights. At least until I can clear my head of all that went down. Let me call her.”

Michelle picked up her cell phone, but Jeremiah quickly grabbed it from her hand. “You can go to Khrystal’s tomorrow after the poetry slam. Just let me be here for you tonight.”

Still in a panic, Michelle responds, “But I have to be at work Sunday night and I just…”

Jeremiah keeps her from going any further. “I’ll come pick you up Sunday night and take you to work. I’ll pick you up from work and take you to Khrystal’s. Now are you going to let me be here for you tonight?”

In a hesitant tone, Michelle answered. “Yes. I truly thank you Jeremiah. From the bottom of my heart.”

At that time, Jeremiah held Michelle in his masculine arms and tenderly spoke to her. “You’ll be fine. God is going to watch over you and He is going to heal you from this. Remember, God is your strength, love. He is your covering and your protector.”

“Jeremiah, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I just don’t want a strange man taking away what is precious to me,” Michelle said, speaking of her virginity.

“I understand. I know it would be traumatizing to you. That’s a treasure to you that you want only the right person to open.”

“Yeah. But right now I’m just scared, Jeremiah.”

“Michelle, the enemy wants you to live your life in fear, but you have to overcome that. I understand you are shaken up, but you have to defeat the enemy by your trust in God. Psalm 27:1 says ‘Whom shall I fear? The LORD is the defense of my life; Whom shall I dread?’ I know it’s not easy, but it’s doable.”

“No it’s not easy. I was violated, Jeremiah, and I won’t forget that. I know to trust in God, but I can’t help to think what might happen to me.”

“Well, what I know to do is pray for and over you.”

Jeremiah pulled Michelle closer to him, where her head met his chest. Her tears soaked his shirt as he rubbed the coal black hair that cascaded down her face. He prayed:

“Dear Lord,

I sincerely come before you, knowing you to be God of all. The One who keeps us, protects us, and heals every hurt we may experience. I thank You and honor You, God. I lift up your child to you, asking you to keep watch over her. You know what she has been through in the past few hours. You know her fears right now. She’s hurting, Lord and I’m hurting with her. Please, God, touch her spirit and her emotions, along with her mind. Heal her and love her as only You can. And at the same time, use me Lord to be a comfort. We trust in You and we love you Lord.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.”

Jeremiah had finished praying and gave Michelle a kiss on the forehead. Not one of those that meant anything romantic. But one that was to assure her that she would be safe.

Although her face was still a wreck and her eyes looked like two feather-down pillows, Michelle’s tears had dried. “I appreciate you, Jeremiah,” Michelle solemnly voiced.

“You’re welcome. Just rest your mind and relax sweetie.”

It only took a matter of minutes before Michelle drifted off to sleep in Jeremiah’s arms. Not wanting to leave her in that position, he scooped her up as thought he was cradling a child. He traveled to her bedroom and laid her down on the full size bed. He then dampened a wash cloth and wiped Michelle’s face until there were no more smudge marks from the makeup mudslide. She didn’t move a muscle. She was emotionally drained, as well as physically tired.

Jeremiah closed to door behind him quietly and ventured back in the living room. He sat on the couch still bewildered by what had happened to Michelle. He sat in the dark space only illuminated by the wine colored lamp on the side table and allowed his thoughts to have reign for a while.

After a moment of solitude, Jeremiah scanned to room for anything he could write on. His eyes had locked onto a blank piece of paper sitting on the coffee table. He had words nesting in his heart he needed to let escape. So he picked up the piece of paper and put pen to it. With the guidance of the Holy Spirit, he begun to write:

Pain cloaks her

Chokes her

Emotions

She’s left hoping

For a door open.

Wanting to escape

The very weight

Heavy weight of hurt

Lifetime of scare

But the moment just a blur.

So she turns to God

In her place of despair

Trusting that He unequivocally cares

More than any human shares

For all burdens, God bears.

Hands clasped, praying

Crying.

Dying.

From the painful experience

But god is hearing us.

She screams out,

“Why God, why?”

To imply

Her disappointment

Not in God

But in man.

Yet god is her strength

Her spirits He shall lift

To heights of new

Thanks to a love tenderly true.

In front of God, she lays

So He may

Rid her of the pain

That hatched inside her this day.

He has spoken

His comfort as a token

To her being

As she sees the sadness fleeing.

Jeremiah let out a slight sigh and took one more glance at the art he had just created. He then put his signature of approval on the bottom, titled the poem “Rescue”, and laid the paper back down on the coffee table. He had prayed the words would penetrate Michelle’s heart for her healing, just as they had allowed any bit of anger Jeremiah felt diminish.

Jeremiah thought about turning on the television for a second, but quickly decided not to. He didn’t want to disturb Michelle. So he stretched long ways on the couch and kicked off his shoes. He covered up with the blanket draped over the arm of the couch and went to sleep to conclude the night.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Poetry Slam

The following morning, Jeremiah had woken up to the rustling of feet in the kitchen. He drew back the blanket, stepped on the carpeted floor, and walked toward the kitchen. There Michelle stood at the stove tending to what appeared to be pancakes. It was eight-thirty in the morning.

“I thought you would be sleeping in and getting some rest, Michelle?” Jeremiah asked.

“I couldn’t sleep any longer,” Michelle answered. “I guess with all that went on, I was super tired and slept hard through the night. By the way, I can’t thank you enough for staying with me. You are a wonderful friend! I know it was out of your comfort zone, but thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I just want to be here for you. I care about you a lot, Michelle and I hate seeing you hurt. My arms are always open.”

Michelle gave a heart-felt smile. Jeremiah smiled back as his eyes interlocked with hers. She then decided to give Jeremiah a warm hug and held on for a while. “Are you hungry?”

“Actually, I am.”

“I got pancakes and sausage. There is orange and apple juice in the fridge,” Michelle said to Jeremiah.

“Ok, sounds good!” Jeremiah was hesitant about bringing up last night again in fear of sparking emotions inside of Michelle. But he done it anyway. “So, how are you going to handle this situation from last night? Are you going to the police?” asked Jeremiah as he sat down at the kitchen table with his food in his hand.

“Like I said, how can I when I don’t even know what he looked like?”

“So you didn’t see anything? No distinctive marks? No tattoos? Anything?”

“No, Jeremiah. I told you it was too dark.” You could hear the frustration overcoming Michelle’s voice. “All I heard was his voice. And even that, I just want to get it out of my head. It was an awful sound. All I can think about is what could have happened.”

“But thank God it didn’t happen.”

“You’re right. Thank God. But what if it did happen? I just want to forget about it, but I know this is going to haunt me for a long time. Can we not talk about it anymore, please?” pleaded Michelle, sobbing.

“Ok. I’m sorry. I’ll leave it alone. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Jeremiah said, hugging Michelle, each ‘I’m sorry’ becoming fainter and fainter.

The two sat down at the small table and ate breakfast after praying over it, trying to shift the conversation. Jeremiah looked up at Michelle and started talking about the poetry slam. He then looked at the clock and realized he needed to get home, shower, and visit Mrs. Emma before heading to Centennial Park.

“Michelle, I’m sorry to rush off. But I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you at the slam later.”

“Ok, Jeremiah. I’ll be there front row and center. See you later.”

“See ya.” One last hug and Jeremiah was out the door. After he had left, Michelle found the poem that he had written.

Jeremiah went home long enough to shower and throw on fresh clothes. There was no time wasted in getting to Mrs. Emma’s house. It was then eleven o’clock and cutting it close. So he couldn’t stay long.

Mrs. Emma’s House

Jeremiah pulled into the driveway of Mrs. Emma’s House and walked inside as he always did without the need of ringing the door bell. It was around eighty-seven degrees outside, so Mrs. Emma had the front door open, her house exposed through the black screen door.

“Hey Granny,” Jeremiah greeted his grandmother with a kiss.

“Hi there baby! What’s wrong? You look troubled.” It didn’t take long for Mrs. Emma to notice the distress look on Jeremiah’s face.

“It’s Michelle. I’m concerned about her. Something awful happened last night. She told me about it and you could see pain written all over her.”

“My Lord!” exclaimed Mrs. Emma. “What happened Jeremiah?”

“She was nearly raped. I just feel so helpless right now. I mean, I prayed with her and over her. But I feel there’s more I can do.”

“Oh no,” Mrs. Emma said as a look of devastation overcame her. “Does she know who done it?”

“No. She was outside and said it was too dark to see. She’s so afraid, Granny. What do I do?” Jeremiah asked, not letting on that he had spent the night with Michelle.

“Well, son, you done great by her just by listening to her problem and praying with her. She needs a friend, Jeremiah. Not a superhero. God is going to rescue her.”

At that moment, Jeremiah snapped back to the poem he had written last night. At the same time, Michelle, who was still at her apartment, picked up that very same poem. She sat down on the couch and gazed at the words on the paper, breathing in everything that was said. She read until a tear dripped from her face unto the paper, smearing the ink.

As much as Jeremiah hated to admit it, Mrs. Emma was right. He couldn’t play superhero. “You’re right, Granny. I’m just afraid for her and want to be there for her.”

“I understand, Jeremiah. But she will be alright. I feel it in my spirit that she will be just fine.”

Jeremiah knew if he could trust anybody with a statement like that, it was his grandmother. When Mrs. Emma felt something in her spirit, it was usually dead on. It was like a sixth sense, or as she would say, just plain o’ discernment. Whatever it was, Jeremiah was thankful for it. “Thank you Granny for that. I feel better now. I’m going to check on her at the poetry slam. I wish you could come.”

“I better stay here and keep cool. Granny isn’t a young chicken anymore! But you go and have a great time. Is Darius going to be there?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Well tell him I said hi. Tell Michelle too, baby.”

“Ok, I will.” Jeremiah grabbed a piece of sweet potato pie that was sitting on top of the stove, to go. “I will be back and see you after the slam, Granny.”

“Ok, baby. Do good and enjoy that pie!”

“Oh, I will, Granny! See you after a while. Love you!” Jeremiah leaned over and gave Mrs. Emma a kiss.

“See you later, Jeremiah. Love you too, baby!” Mrs. Emma responded.

Jeremiah headed out the door to his car so he could be on his way to the poetry slam.

TSU Poetry Slam – Centennial Park

A hefty size crowd gathered at Centennial Park, covering the grassy areas like ants on a Popsicle. Some sat in lawn chairs while others chose to stand. Refreshments were served, but most settle on bottle water. Music filled the radius of about one hundred people as they awaited the first poet to stand at the microphone. Art director and promoter, Mr. Hayden , came to the microphone to introduce the event.

“Welcome everyone to our first annual TSU Poetry Slam!” he shouted. The crowd applauded in excitement. “Let’s go over some rules before we get started. Keep everything clean, please. What you speak on is entirely up to you, but no vulgarities. Papers, journals, and notebooks are allowed to be read off of. The judges will score you on creativity, flow, word structure and audience response. Blessings to all the challengers! Let’s get started with poet number one, E Sharp!”

The crowd listened attentively to E Sharp as he belted out a poem entitled “Rights of Passage.” Jeremiah sat with the other challengers taking in every word of this fantastic poem. Darius and Michelle stood a little further back, enjoying the scenery and sounds. A little later, Michelle’s friends, Khrystal and Erica Richardson, met up with Michelle.

“Hey ladies!” called out Michelle.

“Hey Michelle! How are you feeling today?” asked Khrystal.

“I’m good. I’ll be ok. I’m going to come stay with you for a bit. Is that cool?” wondered Michelle.

“Girl, you know it’s cool. Come on over.”

Darius had no clue what had happened to Michelle the night before. Therefore, he was lost in the conversation shared among Michelle, Khrystal, and Erica. But he respected the conversation enough to not interrupt it, although he was perplexed.

Michelle continued, “Thanks Khrystal. I’m still so scared.” Michelle constantly looked over her shoulders, paranoid about someone dangerous coming her direction.

Finally, Darius couldn’t keep hush any longer. He pulled Michelle over to the side. “What’s going on with you, Michelle?”

“Darius, it’s a long story. This is not the right place to go into it. I just want to be able to enjoy the slam right now.”

“Ok. But you’re my friend Michelle. I’m here for you just like anybody else is.”

“Thank you Darius. But I’ll be ok after a while.”

“So, there’s nothing I can do for you?” Darius asked, giving Michelle one last chance.

“Well.” Then there was a slight pause. Michelle had to find any way she could to switch up the converstation. “You see me my girl Erica over there?”

Darius replied, “Yeah, I see her.” Erica was an attractive young lady, prettiness captured in a plus size frame. Her hair was done in a natural style and her caramel skin was smooth and lovely. She was a quiet spirit, but loved to mingle.

“I want you to ask her out, Darius,” instructed Michelle.

“I don’t know, Michelle. She’s pretty and all, but…”

“But what Darius? She’s not your type?”

“Well, not really. I’m sorry. I really don’t want to be negative. But I don’t know if me and her would work out.”

“All I’m asking is for one date with her, D. It’s not like I’m telling you to marry her or anything.”

“Well, ok. One date and that’s it. I’ll talk to her after the slam.”

“Thank you, Darius. That means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome. But only for you,” Darius quickly let Michelle know.

“That’s good enough for me,” smiled Michelle.

At that time, the MC of the program called Shade to come up. Besides Jeremiah, Shade was one of the best in Nashville. He started being recognized by the name Shade, because of his mysterious persona. And the fact he always kept a cool attitude. He was odd, but people were drawn to him.

Shade clasped the microphone with his right hand and gave words permission to escape from his mouth. The work he performed was entitled “Inclusion”. He belted out from the bellow of his belly, in a low tone:

“Inclusion

Of this perceived illusion

Inside of my being

Make sure the people are seeing

The truth that is hidden

Uncovered by my admittance

That Christ is the one

From His bloodline, I come

Inclusion

Of this confusion

Of this hateful societal chaos

In my daily walk

But God is my strength

Already walked where I haven’t been

Keep me steady, keep me calm

Holy Spirit takes over

And the battle is won

Inclusion

Of this completion

That God gives me

The same as the “one are three.”

He gives substance to my life

Never leads me to walk blind

He gives meaning to my existence

He was the piece to my living

That was missing.

Inclusion

But no conclusion

Forever experiencing and growing

Wisdom continually flowing

From the One all-knowing.

Until life ends, spirit open

Hands clinched, always hoping

For tomorrow to be better today

In Jesus’ name, this I pray.”

The crowd applauded as Shade disappeared off the stage. Jeremiah was sitting in waiting. He was slotted to go after Shade. Jeremiah got up from his seat and calmly walked up to the microphone to the approval of the spectators.

“God bless you all. Today I want to perform a piece entitled ‘Protector’.”

“Protector

Under His wings eternal

Spread out to cover me

Shielding me

Hiding me

He is to be

My Protector.

Protector

In His shadow

I hide

His love supplied

In outstretched arms I abide

For He is my

Protector.

Protector

All evil away

The darts fall at my feet

Calm wind to cool the heat

My up when I feel defeat

All my needs

He will meet.

He is my protector.”

Mrs. Emma’s House

During Jeremiah’s performance, there was suspicious activity taking place at Mrs. Emma’s home.

Mrs. Emma was inside watching television when she heard the roaring noise of motorcycles outside of her house. She rose up from her recliner and walked towards the window. Her eyes were fixed on five guys in her driveway walking towards her door. They were of a variety of races—four black guys and one white guy—and a variety of statures. All of them had an intimidating look to them, with their faces primarily covered with bandanas. Mrs. Emma quickly stepped away from the window and made a decision to not answer any knock that may come. She was petrified.

The ring leader made it to the door and didn’t waste any time trying to break in. The sound of heavy hands cracking the lock with a crow bar. Mrs. Emma moved as fast as her legs and cane could take her to get to the phone to dial 911. But her fastest speed was still very slow, too slow. The big, burly man forcefully entered the home and Mrs. Emma panicked to the point of losing her breath.

In the haste of the moment, Mrs. Emma was knocked to the ground. The five intruders barged through the house and ransacked everything in sight. But why did they do this? Why did they target Mrs. Emma’s home? Was it something in particular they were looking for?

Mrs. Emma was still on the floor grasping for air, trying to let out a scream so someone could her here. But it was as though the neighborhood was empty and no one came to her rescue.

The group of thugs didn’t care anything about the elderly woman needing medical help as they paid her no attention. She was hyperventilation and her oxygen tube was knocked away from her face. All of a sudden, she grabbed her chest as though it was giving her pain. She gathered just enough strength to activate the alarm bracelet on her left wrist.

TSU Poetry Slam

At the poetry slam, Jeremiah wraps up his piece:

“Protector

All my fears die

A death of might

Day transformed from night

For He is the giver of life

Protector

Protector

Fighting my troubles

And all the clouds that hover

Come in so I can come up

From experienced hurt

My protector.

Protector

He is my battle ram

In Him, a weapon I have found

My defensive ground

When they try hard

To knock me down!

He is my protector.

Protector

God is my protector

And I shall never

Be afraid, of the terror

By night

Or the arrow

In flight

My protector.

Protector

He is my protector

And I shall praise Him

Forever.

Just when the last word escapes his mouth, his cell phone buzzes to a special tone. It was a call from Mrs. Emma. Her bracelet was linked to Jeremiah’s phone through a special program. Not only would it call out to emergency personnel, but to her grandson as well. He knew it was an emergency.

Jeremiah rushed off the stage and found Darius, Michelle, Khrystal, and Erica. “I’ve got to go!” Jeremiah said to the group with trembling excitement. “I’ve got to get to Granny!”

“We’ll come with you Jeremiah,” said Darius.

“Do whatever you want to do. But I’ve got to go…NOW!” cried out Jeremiah, nervously.

The group hopped in their respective vehicles and fled the scene. Jeremiah broke speed limit laws to get to Mrs. Emma. Fortunately, he made it there without any trouble….or an accident.

Jeremiah went inside were paramedics had arrived just minutes before. He came to his grandmother on a stretcher, surrounded by people who had been trying to revive her. But it was to no avail. They were too late getting to Mrs. Emma.

“Who are you?” asked one of the police officers. That officer was actually Detective Patton Gray of the Nashville Police Department.

“I’m her grandson, Jeremiah. Is she going to be ok? Tell me she’s going to be ok.”

“Son, she didn’t make it. They tried to get her back. They…”

“I don’t want to hear that! She’s still alive. I know she is!” interrupted Jeremiah, busting out in tears.

Sherriff Gray put his hand on Jeremiah’s left shoulder, gave him a light pat, and shook his head. “When you can, give me a call.” Detective Gray seemed callious and unconcerned about Jeremiah’s tears. He slipped Jeremiah his card and walked away.

At that time, Darius and the others pulled up. Jeremiah stormed outside, sat on the porch steps, and wept uncontrollably.

Darius walked up to him, but didn’t even question the situation. He just sat by Jeremiah, put his arm around his best friend. Michelle, Khrystal, and Erica surrounded Jeremiah in love and comfort.

Darius whispered these words of consolation to Jeremiah: “Beauty for ashes, joy for mourning, praise for despair…”

Chapter 4: Loss of Wisdom

Saturday, May 22nd, 2010

Jeremiah’s House

It had been a week since the death of Mrs. Emma and Jeremiah had prepared for her funeral on this cloudy Saturday. He felt very guilty for what happened. He questioned why he chose to be at the slam rather than stay with his grandmother. Could he have prevented this fiasco is had been at the house? Would his grandmother still be alive? Although he believed in it being people’s “time”, this was different. This was his grandmother. The piece to his life he didn’t want to do without. Would the situation have played out differently if he was around? Question after question lingered in Jeremiah’s head.

Jeremiah sat in complete silence. He didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know what to think. All he knew to do was cry while looking at a picture of his grandmother propped up on the sofa table.

The investigation into what happened a week ago was ongoing. What was known, however, was that Mrs. Emma had died of a heart attack. No foul play was involved. Jeremiah couldn’t wait around for anymore answers. So He grabbed his car keys and decided to drive over to Mrs. Emma’s house.

Mrs. Emma’s House

Jeremiah unlocked the front door with a copy of a key he had. He scurried around the house to see if anything was missing. He went from the living room to the den to the kitchen. The house was left in disarray. It was such a disaster. Jeremiah picked up pieces of a shattered vase, which was a family heirloom, and stared at it for a little while.

He sat up overturned furniture that had been knocked down in the small space riot. It was like he just knew his grandmother was coming back and she didn’t need to see a messy home. But then reality sat in and he realized his grandmother was not walking through that front door. Or any door for that matter.

Jeremiah went to Mrs. Emma’s bedroom to search for anything suspicious. He found Mrs. Emma’s jewelry missing. It contained valuable pieces of jewelry Mrs. Emma held near and dear to her for a variety of reasons. She kept them tucked away in a hidden place. But through all of the looting, the thieves found them and took them before they left the house.

But what were they going to do with the stolen property? Pawn it? Sell it for drugs? What? That didn’t matter to Jeremiah. The only thing he became concerned with was catching the thugs he held responsible for his grandmother’s death.

The more he thought about it, the more his heart was filled with anger. The more his body filled with a sense of rage. He flung items off of Mrs. Emma’s nightstand. Then in an instant turn of emotions, Jeremiah grabbed a hold of a picture of his grandmother and held it tight in his arms. He backed up against the wall and slid down until he had reached the floor to sit on. He cried what seemed to be every tear he had.

He wanted to always be strong for his grandmother. But Jeremiah grew weak. The pain was too much for him to bear. She was all that he had left. Yes, he had friends. But there was nothing like grandma’s hand. Nothing of this earthly realm compared to the love she gave. His heart was shattered and his spirit was torn.

Not wanting to be in the house anymore, Jeremiah left. As he was driving down the road, he had received a phone call on his Blackberry. It was Darius.

“Hello?” answered Jeremiah, still sobbing.

“Hey, Jeremiah. Where are you? I’m at your house and your car is not here.”

“I had to take care of some business. But I’m on my way back to finish getting ready.”

Darius’ curiosity kicked in. “Are you ok, man?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m good.”

“Alright. I’ll be waiting.” Darius hung up the phone with a look of confusion and concern on his face.

Jeremiah’s House

Jeremiah pulled into his driveway and there sat Darius. He wanted Darius to be by his side at the funeral. More than friend, he was like a brother.

“Whatsup, D?” Jeremiah greeted Darius along with a handshake. But it wasn’t with the usual excitement Jeremiah would normally have.

“Not much, man. How you holding up?”

“I’m doing. But honestly, I don’t even want to go to this funeral. I’m tired of going through this. My parents and now Granny.”

“But Jeremiah, you’re not going through this alone. Number one, you have God with you. Number two, you have me with you. And I know Michelle is there for you as well.”

The conversation continued as the two friends walked inside Jeremiah’s house. Quickly changing the subject, Jeremiah asked Darius about Michelle. “Speaking of Michelle, how is she doing? Still got her situation on my mind.”

Jeremiah hadn’t talked to Michelle all week. He didn’t even return any of her calls. He had just sat in solitude, not wanting to be bothered with anyone.

“Man, she is still coping with what she went through,” answered Darius. “Why haven’t you talked to her?”

“D, why would you ask me that? You know Granny just died and I have been dealing with that. Just didn’t need to be talking to a bunch of different people. Especially Michelle. She might have wanted to pour her problems on me and I don’t need that right now. I needed my time.”

“I understand what you are going through, but that’s kind of selfish. Just being honest. Plus, why did you even ask about Michelle if that’s the way you feel?” Darius was curious.

“No, you don’t know what I’m going through. You don’t understand. You still have both of your parents and you say you understand? You have two grandparents still living. The other two died before you were even born. And you understand? No you don’t understand.”

Jeremiah continues his tirade. “But Michelle is my friend. I do care about what’s happening with her. But I’m dealing with my own problems right now and I don’t need to be bogged down with any outside issues. And I don’t need your opinion about me.”

Darius knew that this wasn’t the real Jeremiah talking. This was the hurting Jeremiah. The sorrowful Jeremiah. The one who felt he could have prevented what happed to Mrs. Emma. Darius felt the pain penetrating from Jeremiah’s presently fragile heart. Darius wanted to change subjects, but as soon as he tried, Jeremiah cut him off.

“Look D, I’m sorry for snapping at you.” Jeremiah said in a calmer voice. I apologize for getting smart. Like I said, I care about Michelle and I care about you. I’m blessed to have you two in my life. This is just a lot for me to handle.”

“Apology accepted. You have the right to be hurt and you have the right to cry. But don’t push who’s left, out of your life in the process.”

“I get what you are saying. And I will try hard not to.”

Darius gives Jeremiah a grin of approval. “Jeremiah, Let me pray with you.”

“Ok.”

The two bent over in a state of submission to God and Darius put his arm around his best friend. Darius began to utter words of petition unto the Lord.

“Dear Heavenly Father. I come to You, lifting up my brother to You, asking that you will comfort him. Help him to get through this time and embrace him while he is faced with the loss of his grandmother. Please hold him close as he celebrates the home going of his grandmother. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

“Amen,” echoed Jeremiah. “I appreciate that, man. I truly needed it.”

“You’re welcome. That’s what I’m here for. Remember that. The limo will be here any minute to pick you up. Let’s finish getting you ready.”

“You rolling with me, right D?”

“What about your Uncle Steve or Michael? Or even your Aunt Erica?”

“They want to drive themselves. Not quite understanding why, but they do. So, it would be just me in there. So you going to roll?”

“Yeah, I’ll roll with you,” said Darius.

Jeremiah finished dressing in his tailor fitted black suit, white shirt, dapper tie, and Stacy Adams shoes. He sat with the Bible in his hand, alongside Darius, waiting for the limousine from the funeral home to arrive.

Just moments later, there was a ring as Jeremiah’s doorbell sounded. Jeremiah removed himself from the couch and walked towards the door to open it. There stood a middle aged woman, who was the funeral home director, dressed in uniform.

“Jeremiah, are you ready?” asked Delcia Clemons, director of the Clemons-Wright Funeral Home. The time was then 11:30. The funeral was slotted to take place at 12:00. Mrs. Emma’s church, Straightway Baptist, wasn’t too far away from Jeremiah’s house.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m ready. Darius is going to ride with me. Is that ok?”

“That is fine. Do you have someone you can ride back with after the repass?” wondered Delcia.

“Yes ma’am. I have someone.”

“Ok. Well, we will go ahead and head to the church then.”

Jeremiah and Darius followed Mrs. Delcia to the limousine where her assistant opened the back door for the two.

They made their way in, got comfortable, and then the travel to the church began.

The Funeral

Upon arrival to the church, Jeremiah noticed all his family was lined up outside. They were waiting to processional in the church.

Jeremiah exited the limousine and under the direction of Mrs. Delcia, fell in the front of the line. The family then went inside the sanctuary and took their seats in the middle section of pews. Soft music played in the background from the organist.

The service was a traditional one, but had that church flare to it. The choir sang songs. Words of sympathy were read. But it was not at all sad, for it was a joyful occasion. And even though Jeremiah cried a few tears, he was still ok. As a matter of fact, he done a tribute to his grandmother.

He stood in front of his grandmother’s casket, which was laced with framed pictures commemorating Mrs. Emma. In honor of his beloved grandmother, this is what Jeremiah gave:

“It’s the loss of wisdom

More than pages turned

Seeing through God’s vision

Life’s badges earned.

Words continually flowed

Not from mind, but from heart

Everything she knew, I know

Keep it close at this time apart.

Appreciate the wisdom shared

And every thought released

The understanding that she cared

All that is stored in me,

I can retrieve.

Wisdom loss

But more is gained

Left teachings of the cross

And it’s what remains.

Tears are flowing

Because the learning ends

But rejoice in knowing

Her life really begins.

Keep her near your heart

Never forget her smile

We may be apart

But God has back His child.

So let us find peace

In her being home

It may seem like wisdom released

But it truly lives on…”

After the poem, “Loss of Wisdom”, Jeremiah spoke to the crowed. “Granny never liked goodbyes. So this was not a goodbye. But more of a see you later.” After then, Jeremiah took his seat.

This was a different setting than Harmony. There was no applause. No cheering. It was silent with the exception of a few “amens.” Not that it bothered Jeremiah. He was focused solely on remembering his grandmother.

Afterwards, the eulogy was given by Mrs. Emma’s pastor, Rev. Bennett. It was entitled “No Sorrow”, taken from 1 Corinthians 15:51-53. It was short, sweet and to the point, reiterating the importance of salvation.

The title had its place and Rev. Bennett urged the friends and family who packed the church to not be sorrowful for Mrs. Emma. She was now in a far better place than what they had on earth. One day, they would be a part of the glorious number in Heaven, but accepting Christ was the prerequisite.

The family recessed from the sanctuary after the eulogy as the remaining people stood up out of respect. As the family was getting in their cars and preparing to go to the cemetery, they were met with the loudness of motorcycles. Five of them to be exact.

The husky leader of the pack got off his bike and promptly walked up to Jeremiah. “Sad day, isn’t it?” he taunted Jeremiah in his burly voice. “It’s a shame to lose such a nice lady. But nothing we can do about that now, can we?”

“Who are you and what do you want?” inquired Jeremiah. “We just got done with a funeral. Do you mind?”

At that time, Mrs. Delcia asked politely for this gang to exit the premises. Her assistants were standing by her side. The leader of the pack declined to go away.

“Let me answer the man’s questions, lady. Jeremiah, the name is Deacon. And yes, I do mind. How ’bout I introduce you to the rest of my boys?” Deacon went down the line pointing at each guy clad in black, individually. “That’s J.T., Tek, Trouble, and D’Vine.” Tek was the only white guy of the group.

Jeremiah recognized Trouble, a.k.a. Terrick Farley. Mrs. Emma’s instincts were right. Terrick was into some bad stuff. Jeremiah wanted to say something, but instead just gave Terrick a look of disapproval. His focus was on Deacon. But while Jeremiah was looking at Terrick, Terrick was looking at Michelle in a very strange way.

“Look, we’re going to call the police if you all don’t leave,” warned Mrs. Delcia.

“Alright, we’ll leave.” But before they did, Deacon leaned over to whisper in Jeremiah’s ear, “You know, it was fun taking what was precious to your grandmother. Real fun.”

Jeremiah jumped at Deacon as though he was going to fight him. But Darius wrapped his arms around Jeremiah and held him back.

Deacon and his boys decided to leave the church. But as they did, Deacon looked back and gave Jeremiah a devilish smirk.

“Are you cool, Jeremiah?” asked Darius.

Jeremiah slightly pushed Darius away and walked towards the limousine. “I’m fine,” Jeremiah grumbled.

Darius and Michelle stood in astonishment, while Jeremiah’s family jumped in their cars without saying a word. But why was his family so hostile towards him?

They felt as though it was all Jeremiah’s fault to why this happened to Mrs. Emma. Their thought was if Jeremiah hadn’t been at some silly poetry slam, all of this could have been prevented.

It was his responsibility, after all, to check on Mrs. Emma every weekend in person and call throughout the week to see if she needed anything. That was their deduction from the whole situation. Nevermind that the rest of the family seemingly abandoned Mrs. Emma, hardly calling or at the very least, sending a letter or a card. Yet in still, it was all Jeremiah’s fault. Go figure.

As the caravan of cars pulled away from the church, Jeremiah stared out of the window of the limousine. Reflections of all the current events resounded in his mind, as reflections of the church painted the window. His grandmother, his family, and now, Deacon. Why has all of this happened? That was the only question that lingered in his thoughts.

Chapter 5: Beginning of a Fall

Monday, May 24th, 2010

It was the Monday after Mrs. Emma’s funeral and Jeremiah had decided to go ahead and work. Perhaps it would help clear his mind of some things and even some confusion that found its way into his thoughts.

He was sitting down to his baked chicken and vegetable dinner when his cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but answered it anyway. “Hello?”

“You made the wrong move, church boy. Nobody ever jumps at me. You seriously don’t know who you are messing with.”

“Deacon? How did you get my number?”

“Don’t worry about that. The only thing you need to be concerned about is learning a little lesson for trying to be big and bad in front of everyone.”

“I’m not scared of you. What do you want? You have caused enough trouble as it is.”

“Apologize.”

“No, I will not. I have nothing to apologize for.”

“Fine. Have it your way. But while you are on your little adrenaline kick, I have decided to make your life a living nightmare.”

“What is your hostility towards me?”

“You’re breathing. That’s enough.”

“What about my grandmother? Why did you do what you did?”

“That’s for me to know, Jeremiah. All you need to know is you made a huge mistake jumping at me.”

“What do you want?” asked Jeremiah in a low, slow drawl.

“Patience, big boy. I actually have proposition for you. And I just made the decision a second ago to leave you alone if you take me up on it.”

“I don’t want it, Deacon. Goodbye!”

“One second. Hear me out. Huge money making opportunity here. I’m talking big money, no chump change. You do this for me and I’ll let your heart beat.” Deacon was definitely into some corrupt and illegal activity. But Jeremiah didn’t care to find out what it was.

“You’re threatening me? You know I could call the cops on you, right? And I told you, I didn’t want it. I get my money by working legally for it.”

“Yeah, you could call the cops. But it’s your word against mine. What you going to tell them? Plus, if you did, it would be the last words you ever utter.”

“I know you don’t know this, Deacon, but God says to not touch His anointed. To not do His prophets any harm. You know, it’s crazy that you’re nicknamed Deacon, one of the offices of the church. And you not even living your life right. You don’t even know what the inside of a church looks like. I’m going to be praying for you.”

“I don’t need your insults,” fired back Deacon. “And I surely don’t need your prayers. God ain’t done nothing for me. I do things for myself. I don’t care nothing about church. Don’t care nothing about your God. I’m Deacon, because I’m a leader. I’m the boss. And you nothing but a chump. For now, I’m going to leave you alone. But trust, I will be back.”

Deacon hung up. Jeremiah was left with the dial tone in his ear. He hit the ‘end’ button on his Blackberry and sat it on the coffee table. He put his back to the back of the couch and let out a deep breath. He placed his hands over his face and sat in silence.

Tuesday, May 25th, 2010

IBA

The next day at his job, Jeremiah went into his office as usual to begin his work for the day. He received a phone call from his supervisor, David Graff. “Mr. Washington, I need to see you in my office please, a.s.a.p.”

“Yes, Mr. Graff. I’ll be right there,” responded Jeremiah.

Jeremiah journeyed into the supervisor’s lush office and took a seat across from Mr. Graff that the glass top wooden desk that seemed to occupy half of the space. Mr. Graff spoke first. “Mr. Washington, how are you?”

“I’m good, Mr. Graff. I’m good.”

“I have important news that is pertinent to you.”

“Ok. What is it, Mr. Graff?” Jeremiah hesitantly asked.

“We think of you as one of our best and hardest working employees here. You have a great rapport with our clients and your co-workers are thrilled to be a part of this team with you. We are enthused with you, no question about it.”

“Thank you sir.”

“But due to cutbacks in this department, we are having to let people go.”

Jeremiah clinched to arms of the chair tighter and had a very uneasy look on his face, almost busting out in a minute sweat. But he decided to still listen attentively.

Mr. Graff continued. “You was one of the last ones hired in. And we have to go by seniority in who to keep. This is hard for me, but…”

“Let me guess. You are dismissing me?”

“Yes. I am very sorry, Mr. Washington.”

“Spare me the speech. I really don’t need to hear it. You decided to build me up before letting me down. That, in itself, was not cool. Not cool at all! I’ve been through enough as it is and now this.”

“I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am, Mr. Washington. But you are out of line right now.”

“You know what? I’m not going to argue with you,” reasoned Jeremiah, trying to calm himself down. “I’ll start packing and I will get out of here.”

Jeremiah stormed out of the supervisor’s office and trekked back to his own. Or what use to be his. When he got there, he started to pack up all of his belongings. He looked at the wall where hung framed art that read the words “Faith, Hope, Love.” It was in reference to 1 Corinthians 13:13. At that time, faith was the main word that stuck out to him. He just stared at those five letters for a while.

Jeremiah sighed, fighting back tears, and removed the art off the wall. He walked out of his former office, turned off the light by the switch next to the door, and walked to the elevator. But during his leaving, he looked back at the door one more time to see his name on a plaque that recognized it was his office, his domain. ‘Jeremiah Washington’.

It was though he was walking to the electric chair as he made slow strides down the hall, with his head hung low. Jeremiah’s co-workers were staring at him, interested in what was going on. Some gave his words of encouragement. Some patted him on the back, while others decided to say nothing at all and tried to ignore the fact that IBA was losing one of its best accountants.

Jeremiah went to his car and sat there for a minute before sticking the key in the ignition to start it. He sat in disbelief in what just happened. Was this really taking place in his life right now? Why was he being faced with all of this? He wanted answers, but there was no one around to give them to him. Even God seemed to be silent at the time, which cause Jeremiah to question the very source he put the most faith in.

Jeremiah finally drove off, listening to a gospel cd on his way home. The word “faith” kept replaying in his mind over and over again. It would not leave him alone. Through the tears, he had to keep reminding himself that his trust had to be in the Lord in order to get through this. He wanted to convince himself that maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out just fine.

Thursday, June 24th, 2010

It had been several weeks since Jeremiah had been dismissed from IBA. He had traveled all over the city of Nashville looking for a job, especially in the financial sector. However, he decided to broaden his search and look at places he though he never would even work. During all of this, Jeremiah kept in touch with Darius and Michelle. Just not as much as he usually did. Jeremiah and Darius didn’t even discuss the trip they were planning to take to D.C. any further. It was pretty much an afterthought at that point.

Jeremiah need a job quick, because his severance pay wasn’t as much as he had hoped for. But even through all of the looking, Jeremiah’s search for employment came up empty. Door after door was metaphorically slammed in his face and it seemed no one was hiring. Jeremiah prayed and turned in a countless number of resumes. Then he would pray some more. Still, nothing changed. Nothing would surface. That was until he received a phone call on this Thursday morning.

“Hello?” answered Jeremiah.

“My I speak with Jeremiah Washington, please?” asked the polite female voice on the other end.

“This is him speaking.”

“Yes, Mr. Washington. This is Robin Adair, human resource manager at D&D Warehouse. How are you doing today?”

“I’m fine. How are you doing?”

“Great! We were wondering if you could start work on Monday morning?”

Jeremiah had applied with the warehouse company during his search. He had applied for the position of a Level 1 Warehouse Laborer, mainly responsible for the physical labor of moving inventory around. “Yes, ma’am. I can start.” Jeremiah’s tone was not enthusiastic by any means. It wasn’t the best option out there. But he needed a job. So he took the position.

A little thrown off by Jeremiah’s tone, Mrs. Adair responded back. “Ok. Well, we will see you on Monday at eight o’clock then.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Adair. See you on Monday.”

“Have a good day. Bye bye”

“You too. Bye.”

When Jeremiah got off the phone, he picked up his poetry notebook and started on a new poem. He had penned this one as “The Fire”.

“The flames of the fire

Consume my desire

To reach levels higher

God is the seller, but I’m not the buyer

See, the fire arises, surround

Me, having me bound

Positive feelings burned to the ground

At the ashes is where I’m found

Engulfed by the flames

Masquerade

Hiding the ferocious pain

Like a disease-ridden plague

Pour the fuel to the fire

Watching the situations become hotter

Looking to survive this trouble around

Just lay down

When tribulations abound

Ready to give up on this

What I’m going through makes no sense

The fire’s getting worse by the minute

I got this bad feeling

That God is not in it

Stress

Getting the best

Of me in my progress

If this is God’s best

Than I am unimpressed

The devil is the arsonist

Now I’ve got to become a quick change artist

Putting on a smile when it really hurts inside

My world is colliding, a sense of joy too hard to find

The fire is getting higher up

Fearful of life, ready to jump

Away from

Everything that is and everything that comes”

He closed the notebook, sat it off to the side and remained in a state of meditation for a while.

Friday, July 9th, 2010

Jeremiah had been working at D&D for two weeks now. He had progressed nicely as a warehouse worker, but it was still not where he wanted to be.

It was pay day for Jeremiah and he went into the main office to collect his paycheck. Much to his dismay, the net amount on his paycheck for two weeks worth of work didn’t nearly add up to what he made at IBA in one week. How was he going to make ends meet with this bit of money? He had his house. He had his Lexus. He had bills. This just wasn’t going to cut it.

“Thank you,” Jeremiah told his supervisor as disappoint filled the air. The aura of worry was so evident that it nearly left a stench behind.

Jeremiah’s House

Jeremiah came home after work and threw his keys on the kitchen bar. He commenced to turn on the television. He had deposited his check, ran errands, and not just wanted to relax. He reflected on a plethora of things, especially this new job. Or more specifically, this new paycheck. Exactly how was he suppose to survive off this minimum amount of money? That was his thought.

Then Jeremiah done the unthinkable. The unimaginable. He picked up his Blackberry and scrolled through the call history. Out of all the numbers that appeared on the screen, one stood out the most. The one he was looking for. He came across the number of Deacon and decided to call it back. So he hit the call/send button to dial Deacon’s number. What was this all about? Why was Jeremiah calling who seemed to be his number one enemy?

“Jeremiah Washington. Good to hear from you,” said Deacon. “You call to threaten me some more, big boy?” laughed Deacon.

“You know, I could. I’m still angry at what you done. But I’m not going to go there today. I’m not even calling you about anything like that,” countered Jeremiah.

“What do you want then?”

“I want to take you up on your earlier offer. Give me the lowdown on it.”

“I’m surprised you doing this, church boy. With you being holy and all. But I do know you lost your job. So now you need me.”

“No, I don’t need you. I need money. So what’s it going to be?”

“Fine. Meet me at 15th and Maple, nine-thirty, tonight. I’ll give you what to do then.”

Jeremiah hesitated for a minute. “Yeah, ok. I’ll be there.”

The two men hung up their phones and Jeremiah prepared to meet Deacon in a couple of hours. So he depressingly moved toward the kitchen to cook dinner. He just wasn’t happy with his situation at all. He wanted to be able to keep everything he had worked so hard for. So, it was “by any means necessary” at that point.

A little while later, Jeremiah walked out the door to his car so he could drive to the aforementioned meeting place. When he had finally reached 15th and Maple, he came to Deacon, sitting in his black Yukon Denali. ‘What was with Deacon and the color black?’ Jeremiah had wondered. But that thought quickly faded away.

Jeremiah walked up to the driver’s side of Deacon’s car.

“Jeremiah. So nice to see you. Get in,” demanded Deacon.

Jeremiah got in on the passenger’s side. His body language spoke of being uncomfortable. It was as though he was about to make a deal with the devil.

“I don’t have to time to waste,” said Deacon. “So, here’s what I got for you to do. I need you to deliver these. You will be my FedEx man. And you get to keep thirty percent of the cut.”

Deacon handed several plastic bags over to Jeremiah, along with a list of addresses to deliver this merchandise to. What was in the bags? Even Jeremiah didn’t know until he opened them up. They revealed boxes of prescription drugs. Deacon’s clients used them to get their fix.

So this is what Jeremiah gave up his Friday nights at Harmony for? He hadn’t been seen there since the Friday before the TSU Poetry Slam. He had no desire anymore. His brightly lit fire for the Word and for poetry was growing dimmer by the minute.

“Where did you get this from?” asked Jeremiah.

“That’s really none of your business. You just deliver the stuff. Are you in?” rudely spoke Deacon.

“I don’t know about this,” Jeremiah said, unsure of the deal.

“You came to me, remember? If you’re out, then you are in trouble for wasting my valuable time. But I would suggest you do it. You hurting for cash. Need I remind you about that precious Lexus?” asked Deacon, pointing at Jeremiah’s car.

“Ok, ok. Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Good. You start delivering tomorrow night. And if you miss one, just one, then that’s your life.”

It’s just like the devil to try and take what is most precious. He wants to do anything and everything possible to disrupt what God has progressed.

“Alright. I hear you. I’ll get it done,” Jeremiah pledged in a bold voice.

Jeremiah exited the Denali and made his way back to his Lexus. During the course of the movement, Darius was standing a little far off at the nearby gas station. He looked in Jeremiah’s direction only to find Jeremiah in what looked to him to be unscrupulous business.

Darius figured it wasn’t the time to confront his best friend. So he got in his car and drove away. He was highly disappointed that Jeremiah was even dealing with Deacon. But what was even more disturbing to Darius was what kind of potential trouble Jeremiah was getting into. Jeremiah was being dealt a dangerous hand.

Saturday, July 10th, 2010

The next day, Darius decided to give Jeremiah a call. It was about six-thirty p.m.

“Hello?” answered Jeremiah.

“Whatsup, man?” spoke Darius.

“Not much. Just hanging at the house.”

“Not getting out today?”

“Nah, D. Not today. Kinda tired, man.”

“I understand that. So did you finally get to Harmony?”

“Nah. Still not up to it. Haven’t had the zeal to even write.”

“Man, you got to get back on it. God gave you that talent and you letting it go to waste.”

“Nah, D, I don’t need to get back on it. As a matter of fact, maybe I should just let it go for good. Where has it got me? Nowhere. Poetry doesn’t help me to survive life.”

“Don’t talk like that Jeremiah!”

“Listen, D, I don’t want to talk about it anymore! Cool?”

“You know, you have been real good about cutting people off here lately.”

Then there was silence.

“Do you have anything else, Darius?” snarled Jeremiah.

“Yeah, I actually do. I was over on Maple last night and I seen you. I seen you when you got out of the Denali. Looks like you was doing something with Deacon. What’s going on Jeremiah?”

“Really, D, it’s none of your business. I’m just trying to take care of myself. That’s all.”

“By doing something illegal?!? What is happening with you, Jeremiah?”

“I lose Granny. I lose my job. And it was all in a matter of weeks. And you have the audacity to ask me what is happening with me? A little job at a warehouse ain’t going to cut it, D. So I have to supplement my income some kind of way.”

“Then get a second job! Do something besides getting money illegally. You are letting God down and you are letting your friends down. This is not you, Jeremiah! This is not the Christian man I have come to know, grow up with, and love. Many, you need to pray on this.”

“I’ve done enough praying. Now it’s time for action. Why would God give me these things only to take them away? Oh, wait. He took away the person closest to me. And a good paying job. Why, D? Why?”

“I can’t answer why, Jeremiah! But I know that God has something special for you. I know that much. God has a plan for your life. But you go down the wrong path and you won’t see what that plan is. You’ll just end up messing yourself up.”

“God has a plan? I thought my job at IBA was part of God’s plan. And now it’s gone. So don’t talk to me about God’s plan!”

“Where is your faith, man? Why have you dismissed God? Yes, Mrs. Emma is gone. Yes, your job at IBA is gone. But now is the time to move forward.”

“You call me judging me for my decisions. Then you want to question my relationship with God? I thought you was my friend, D? You suppose to be on my side. Why are you going against me?”

“I’m not going against you. I’m holding you accountable for your wrong actions. That’s what friends do.”

“To me, you’re not being much of a friend. For your info, I still pray and talk to God. But I can’t wait on Him for answers anymore. I’m going to do for myself.”

“You have kids at church that look up to you. You going to let them down, too?”

“You just don’t get it, D, do you? I can’t look out for nobody else anymore. Not you, not Michelle, not the kids, nobody. My own family turned their backs on me. And now you are doing the same.”

“No, you turned your back on yourself, Jeremiah.”

“What does that even mean? Are you done? Because I got to go.”

“No, I’m not. Jeremiah…”

“Jeremiah crudely interrupted. “Well I am. Goodbye!”

The phone hung up. Darius knew something was seriously wrong. He was so familiar with Jeremiah that he knew Jeremiah never said ‘goodbye.’ Darius leaned back in his living room chair and let out a heavy sigh. He hated having arguments with his best friend. But this one was the worst of all time. Then Darius done what he knew to do best—pray.

Jeremiah, on the other hand, tried not to let the conversation affect him. He picked up his keys off the coffee table and headed out to tend to his business for Deacon. He went to most of the addresses on his list, before calling it quits. He was going to resume the next day and finish his running. But was this running going to take him to an undesirable place of death or imprisonment? At the time, Jeremiah gave no thought or care to either one.

Chapter 6: Hurt People Hurt People

Sunday, July 11th, 2010

Jeremiah didn’t show up for church that morning at all. No morning service, no Sunday School, nothing. And even though the argument had occurred, Darius was still concerned. So he decided to pay Jeremiah a visit. It was then three-fifteen in the afternoon. Darius had become so disturbed by Jeremiah’s actions that he couldn’t sleep the night before and couldn’t let it go.

Jeremiah’s House

Darius walked up to the door and buzzed the doorbell. Jeremiah got up from the couch and answered.

“Hey Darius,” said Jeremiah in a very solemn voice.

“Whatsup, Jeremiah?” Darius tried to give Jeremiah a handshake and a hug, but Jeremiah was a little stand-offish. “You look a little tired, bruh,” said Darius trying to make small talk.

“I AM tired,” replied Jeremiah in a near mumble. Then silence. “What do you want?”

Darius felt awkward to go along with the slight chill and gave Jeremiah a blank look for a quick moment. The he finally answered. “Well, I want to check up on you. You wasn’t at church and I hope you’re alright.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Jeremiah’s words were very short and brisk. Jeremiah finally moved enough to let Darius through the front door.

Searching for words to fill the cold conversation, Darius responded to Jeremiah’s coolness. “Well, umm, I’m sorry that our convo got a little heated last night.”

“Yeah, cool,” Jeremiah replied with a biting winter’s cold.

“Man, what is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?” wondered Darius.

“Just don’t feel like discussing this right now. You already told me off last night. So that’s that. And here I thought we were boys.”

“We are boys, Jeremiah. But you can’t keep doing what you are doing.”

“D, don’t tell me what I need to be doing. My dad died years ago. You can’t tell me what I can and cannot do! I need the money. End of story.”

“Then get it some other way. What has happened to your faith?”

“Why do you keep asking me dumb questions?! My faith went away, along with my job. I will never understand why God would set me up to bring me down.”

“Bring you down?! Did you ever stop to think that maybe God was setting you up for something even greater? But because of your blinders to God’s blessings right now, you have extreme tunnel vision. You only see things the way you want to see them.”

Jeremiah was at a loss for words and didn’t answer Darius right away.

Darius came back in. “Well, did you?” There was a sense of furiousness in his voice.

Jeremiah decided to retaliate by raising his tone. “Get out!! I don’t want to hear anymore!”

“So, now you’re putting me out of your house because I’m making things real to you?”

“No, Darius. I’m putting you out of my life. I need to be around people who’s going to be on my side. Either you’re for me or you’re against me. And right now, you’re against me.”

“Oh, wow Jeremiah. Are you serious right now?”

“Very. Get out of my house,” Jeremiah insisted as he pointed at the door.

Darius didn’t have a rebuttal and prepared to make his way out. He looked back at his best friend and shook his head in disbelief.

There is was. Darius didn’t even get to sit down. But before he walked out the door, Darius decided to say one last thing. “You’re wrong for this, Jeremiah. I’ll grant you your wish. But that’s not going to stop me from praying for you.”

Jeremiah let out a slight ‘hmph’ to signal that he was finished with the conversation. There was a look of disappointment on Darius’ face, but he made a choice to let it go. At that given moment, it started to rain a hard rain. Darius ran to his car and drove off.

Jeremiah went on about his business, not paying attention to the hurt had had put on Darius. Jeremiah went into the living room and grabbed his poetry notebook off of the side table at the left of the couch.

He opened it up to a blank page as though he was going to write a new poem. Instead he took a black Sharpie and wrote in big, bold letters “THE END!” The six letters and exclamation point mimicked a thirty-two point font in a word processing program.

Then in a strange turn of events, Jeremiah walked to the front door and turned the knob to open it. He glanced at his notebook one last time and pitched it as far as he could until it reached the ground in the rain.

The heavy drops from the sky soaked the pages that contained the art produced by the hands of Jeremiah. Some of the words began to smear to the point of being unreadable.

Jeremiah had no remorse for what he had just done. He shut the door and went back inside to pick up the list that had the various addresses on it for his running. He snatched his car keys up, put on a light jacket to repel the rain, and headed out the door. As he strolled along the walkway, he looked over at the water laden notebook and shook his head. Jeremiah got in the car, started it, and drove off down the street.

Jeremiah made rounds to every place on his list that he hadn’t went to on Saturday night without missing any of his stops. After his running, Jeremiah drove to a remote location where Deacon and his crew were hanging out.

“Jeremiah. Good to see you. Where’s the cash?” asked Deacon.

Deacon wasn’t much for formal greetings. Jeremiah handed over the money had had accumulated and Deacon counted it to assure it was all there. There whole time that was going on, Jeremiah nervously looked around with caution to make sure no one was paying any attention to the activity taking place.

“Looks like it’s all here. Proud of you, church boy,” said Deacon. Then Deacon handed over a stack of cash to Jeremiah. “Here’s your cut. Nice doing business with you.”

“Quit calling me that,” snapped Jeremiah while counting his pay.

“What did you say? Quit calling you what?” inquired Deacon.

“Church boy. It’s annoying and it’s getting old.”

Deacon gave Jeremiah a blank stare as to ignore what he just said. “Meet me tomorrow at seven,” instructed Deacon to Jeremiah.

Jeremiah exited the vacant warehouse and headed towards his car. But before he could open up the car door, he received a phone call from Michelle. Jeremiah glanced at the phone screen to see who was calling, but hit the ‘end’ button to ignore the call. He finally got in the car and drove off.

Jeremiah’s House

Jeremiah arrived back home, but before he was able to take two steps inside, he received another phone call. It was Michelle again. Jeremiah decided to answer this time.

“Hello,” Jeremiah tiredly answered.

“Jeremiah, I’m concerned about you,” said Michelle without asking how Jeremiah was doing.

“Look Michelle, not trying to be rude, but it’s been a long day and I’m tired. Not up to this.”

Not paying attention to Jeremiah’s request to be left alone, Michelle continued on. “How could you fight with Darius and make him leave?”

“I didn’t fight with Darius. We had an argument and he left on his own. That’s what happened. End of story.”

“Darius told me about it and it sounded pretty heated.”

“Yeah, well, my business is my business. I’ll talk to you later, Michelle. I am tired!”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll let you be.”

“Yes, that’s what I want.”

“Alright, I’ll t…” Michelle could not complete her sentence when Jeremiah ended the call.

Jeremiah went to the couch and stretched out. He flipped on the television and scrolled through the channels. He paused long enough to be momentarily captivated by a female poet doing spoken word at what looked to be a broadcasted talent show. She preformed “The.Light”.

The young lady spoke:

“Dark

No sun, no light

All wrong, no right

No strength, no might

No battle, no fight

No eyes, no sight

No light, all black

No daybreak, all night

Death, no life

No joy, no delight

No love, just spite

No fire to ignite

Then, light

No attack, no plight

No ground, all flight

Nor depth, nor height

All bark, no bite

No trouble, no strife

All joy, in spite

Of the torrential fight

Tell all evil, goodnight

No tears, no cry

Mercy on my side

No dim, all bright

Red light, green light

Now my life, in Christ

Once in the dark, now in the light

This is my rewrite

As I travel in the light.”

Just for a moment, Jeremiah was transported back to his times at Harmony. But that was behind him now. Poetry was no longer his desire and friends slowly faded away. He had nothing to hold him together. He had even divorced God in the midst of his fiery period. But perhaps it was just a phase. A phase he was going to grow out of. Even Jeremiah’s physical appearance had changed, with a more scruffy look, a beard only a shag carpet would envy. He wasn’t as neat as usual.

As Jeremiah turned the channel, his heavy eyes were beckoning him to drift off to sleep. He closed his eyes and rested for about an hour. But then he was awakened by the noise of his door bell. He turned off the television and slowly got up from the couch to answer the door. There stood Michelle in the rain.

“Michelle, what are you doing here?” asked Jeremiah. “Get in here out of the rain.” Maybe Jeremiah had an ounce of decency left in him.

“Jeremiah, you was very rude to me, but I can let that go. What I can’t let go of is the fact you are allowing yourself to get in a rut,” Michelle said.

“I was already in a rut when Granny died. The hole got deeper when I lost my job. And no one cares about what I go through. All I hear is have faith. Well, faith ain’t going to put money in my pocket right now,” ranted Jeremiah.

“Do you hear yourself right now? Jeremiah, I care about you. I care about you more than you ever imagined. You just sound like you’re bitter. You feel everything was taken away from you. That’s why you are trying to hold on to material things, so you won’t lose anything else. Even if it means doing it illegally. But in the process, you are still losing. Friends that have your best interest at heart. You’re losing them just so you can keep status and gain a sense of normalcy.”

“Michelle, you…”

“No, you’re going to let me finish this time, Jeremiah. It’s time to move on. Quit soaking in your own pity and move on! I like you…I like you a lot. And have often thought about what it would be like to be more than friends. But I’m going to need you to change. Would you like for me to pray with you?”

The often soft-spoken Michelle spoke up and had released her mind. Even though Jeremiah knew what she had said was true, he still had a rebuttal. “No! I don’t want you to pray with me, for me, or anything else. I want you to leave my house. Michelle, you don’t know nothing about what’s going on with me. And you decide to try and diagnose me? Not happening!”

“I’m not trying to diagnose you. I’m trying to help you.”

“Well, if this is your way of helping, I don’t need it. I don’t need your prayers and I don’t need you! Goodbye, Michelle.”

Michelle couldn’t believe what she just heard. But she politely excused herself from Jeremiah’s presence. “Goodbye Jeremiah.” She exited the doorway almost in tears.

Jeremiah went back to the couch like nothing even happened. He looked across the way at his Bible on the coffee table and picked it up. He randomly turned to a page. His eyes fell on the scripture in Jeremiah 29:11.

“For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ’plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.”

Jeremiah then opened up to the space between the cover and the first page where a note lied. It was from Mrs. Emma when she had gifted this Bible to him. It read:

To my Grandson,

I give this Bible to you as a token of my love and my devotion to your life. Use it, read it, live it. Remember, to study to prove your knowledge. Pray to add wisdom. Never give up on God, because He will never give up on you. Carry out His Word each and every day.

Love,

Granny

Jeremiah closed the Bible and placed it back at its place. He seemed to have gone into some deep though until the doorbell rung.

Jeremiah got up from the couch and opened the front door. What was revealed was a young man, who looked to be around seventeen or eighteen. He was a scraggly looking fellow. A rough life had wrapped his almond complexion and his thin body.

“May I help you?” asked Jeremiah.

“Hi mister. My name is Jerrel. Jerrel Bray.”

“And?”

“Well, I was walking by your house and I found this. I figured it belonged to you.”

Jerrel handed Jeremiah the wet notebook with what use to be Jeremiah’s poetry. Jeremiah took it in his hands looked at it, then looked back at Jerrel. “Come in and sit down.” Jerrel stepped inside. “Do you want anything to drink?” Jeremiah reluctantly asked.

“No sir. I just want to say thank you.”

Jeremiah had a confused expression on his face. “Thank me for what?”

“Your poem saved me. It has changed me.”

“I don’t understand. What poem are you talking about?”

“Let me read it to you.” Jerrel took back the notebook and fumbled through the rain soaked pages to find a poem entitled “Re|Deemed.” Jerrel then began to recite the poem back to Jeremiah.

“Beautiful spirit buried deeply in sin

Tortured by this disease that has overtaken man.

Separation from God has befell him

Only God’s love could redeem him.

See, redeemed is to be revived

Relived through the eyes of Christ.

Reborn to be renewed

Black skies transform to blue.

Trade in the old life for a new mind

Submit to intervention so divine

Much given, much required is true

New man in as the old man flew.

I give myself three-fold

A renewed, living story is told.

Mind, body, spirit to the Lord

Living strictly in His Word.

Redeemed, now I reflect Jesus

Through Him, more power than Greek Zeus.

I walk differently, don’t talk the same

So fresh off the press that I have a new name.

Jesus died that I may have new breath

Picking me up when I had nothing left.

Now I owe Him everything I have

Releasing the iniquity that had me trapped.

Redeemed, deemed to be unfixable

Re, rewind to the future attainable.

Float to newness by God’s grace

Use to see darkness, but now I see His face.

No longer even recognized

By the mere human eyes.

Must look through me with spiritual sense

See the man I’ve become, a better me

Not the man I left behind, the use to be.

Redeemed, it’s a change that feels so good

New growth after the negative flood.

I praise God for who I am now

Redeemed to the point of a new vow.

Rehabed, Renewed, Re|Deemed

Thank God for Him being in me.”

Jerrel continued. “My mom died a few months ago and I don’t have anyone else around. So I’ve been roaming the streets trying to find somewhere, anywhere to belong. I’ve gotten into some bad things and I thought I needed to do these things in order to survive. But that poem, that poem right there has impacted me so much.”

“Let me ask you, Jerrel, how old are you?

“I’m eighteen, sir.”

“Did you finish school? Did you graduate?”

“No sir. I dropped out.”

“Do you have plans to at least get your GED?

“I haven’t really thought about it. Maybe I will get it.”

“You owe it to yourself to at least do that much.”

“Yes sir. Umm, what is your name?” Jerrel asked.

“It’s Jeremiah. Jeremiah Washington.”

“Well, Mr. Washington, your poem made me think. I don’t go to church anywhere but I do want Jesus in my life. Can you help me?”

Jeremiah looked at Jerrel and shook his head. “I can’t help you out there. You need to talk to someone else about that.”

“Ummm, ok,” Jerrel said to Jeremiah’s decline to talk to him about Jesus. He was at a loss for words. “Well, I’m sorry I wasted your time,” Jerrel said with disappointment. “I will go now.”

Jeremiah seemed unfazed by Jerrel’s hurt feelings, walked Jerrel to the door and let him out. Jeremiah then resumed his sitting on the couch. Three people entered. Three people gone. But Jeremiah seemed apathetic and unapologetic to what took place during the course of the day.

He didn’t tarry on the couch long before deciding to go ahead and turn in for the night. He turned off all the lights at the front of the house and walked to his bedroom.

Jeremiah crawled in his plush bed and stared at the ceiling for a while. He was almost in a trance. His body finally gave out and he went to sleep for the night.

Chapter 7: Deep In The Valley

Saturday, July 17th, 2010

Jeremiah had ousted Darius and Michelle from his life. Now, who did he have left? No parents, no grandparents, no friends, no one. But that was the farthest thing from his mind. He had thrown away the concept of friendship along with his heart for poetry.

Jeremiah’s mind was strictly focused on making money. And business had picked up with the running he was doing for Deacon. Jeremiah was sure to be careful about not being caught. And even at that, there was a sense of nervousness every time he made a run. Jeremiah became bothered by what he was doing for only a short second, because he felt he had no other way.

On this particular night, however, things were about to get deep. There was a new job on the ticket for Deacon and his crew. And Jeremiah was to be in the middle of it. The dangerous path Jeremiah was going down wasn’t getting any better.

Deacon’s Hideout

Jeremiah pulled up to the same remote location he had met Deacon on several occasions.

“I need you to make a big run for me on Monday night,” urged Deacon. “You in or are you out?” Deacon asked with an intimidating stare.

“I’m in,” Jeremiah hesitantly answered.

“Good. Six o’clock Monday, you make the run. Meet me here to get the goods at a quarter till. Here is the address you will be making the run to.”

Jeremiah looked at the address and noticed something very familiar. “Deacon, this is the name of the president of IBA, my old job.” The piece of paper read “Ronald C. Burgess. “You dealing to the president of IBA?”

“No, you’re going to deal to the president of IBA. He’s a good customer. Pays top dollar for our merchandise, but only buys a couple times a year,” said Deacon.

“I’m sorry, but he was my top boss. Don’t you get that? I’m not going to deal to him,” Jeremiah said.

“Frankly, I don’t care who he is. I said you’re going to make the run, so you’re going to make the run,” demanded Deacon. “Got it? I would hate for something real bad to happen to you. Wouldn’t you?”

All at once, the other four guys in the crew stood up as though they were a pack of ravenous dogs ready for the attack. Jeremiah slowly looked around at the surrounding figures, backed down and looked back at Deacon. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“I thought you would see it my way,” said Deacon. “Oh and Jeremiah, I forgot to tell you. We rollin’ with you to make sure you don’t mess this up.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Deacon.”

“This ain’t about what you need, church boy. It’s about what I want. And we coming along.”

“Whatever,” responded Jeremiah.

“And we going to raid the house after the exchange happens.”

“Raid? Are you crazy? Whatsup with that?”

“We taking the rich man’s stuff from under his nose. No more small time for us, boys. We going big.”

“Yeah, well I still think it’s crazy. And I would like to stay for your hoorah party. But I’m heading out Deacon,” Jeremiah said.

“We rollin’, six o’clock. Remember that. Be here or we looking for you,” threatened Deacon.

Jeremiah looked back with a look of disapproval, but didn’t respond verbally. He walked out and headed to his car.

“Deacon, I’m gone too. I’m getting hungry,” said Trouble.

“Alright, Trouble. Why don’t you take the rest of the crew with you,” said Deacon.

“Cool. Come on ya’ll.”

Trouble and three of the guys left out while Deacon stayed behind, contemplating every move that was going to be made Monday night.

NPD Police Station

Meanwhile, during the time of all this, Michelle decided to go to the police to give them as much information as she could about the attack on her a few weeks back. She went to the NPD Station in order to give a report.

“How may I help you, ma’am?” asked the receptionist as Michelle approached the front desk.

“I’m wanting to speak with Detective Patton Gray about filing a report and see about pressing charges.”

“Ok, let me get Detective Gray on the phone.”

The older lady with dark rimmed glasses and brunette hair picked up the phone to make the call. Michelle stood patiently, purse draped over her right shoulder and twiddling her thumbs.

“Detective Gray will see you now. Go straight back. He should be standing outside the door for you.”

“Ok. Thanks!” Michelle told the receptionist.

“You are welcome.”

Michelle walked down the long corridor until she reached Detective Gray’s office and introduced herself. “Hi Detective Gray. I’m Michelle Nace. I got your information from Jeremiah Washington.”

“Oh, the young man that lost his grandmother. We are still working the case. It’s nice to meet you Miss Nace. How can I help you out?”

“Well, several weeks ago I was approached by someone outside of Harmony café. It was a male who caught me and pinned me against the building. I was horrified. And…” Michelle started crying. Detective Gray handed her a tissue.

“And what, Miss Nace?”

“He stared feeling on me, touching me inappropriately. Then he threatened me.”

“What did he say?”

“He said ‘don’t you move and don’t try to scream. Or I will make it real hard on you’.” At that time Michelle’s mind rewinded back to that one dreary night in her life.

“Ok, Miss Nace. This is important for me to know. Did you see what he looked like? Anything that stood out to you?”

“It was dark. It was hard for me to see anything. But his voice was deep and as dark as the night was.”

“That really doesn’t help me out any. I’m sorry, but I need more to go on before I can do anything, Miss Nace. I need some kind of evidence.”

“So there’s nothing you can do? Nothing? I really need your help!”

“Look, I’m so sorry. But I can’t move an further in this. I need more details. I can’t work off of just a voice you heard. If and when you can get more information to me, then look me backup.”

“Ok,” Michelle said with a sigh. “Well, thank you for your time.” Michelle excused herself from the chair, still sobbing, and walked towards the door.

“Miss Nace. Sorry I couldn’t help you our more. Give me a call if you can tell me more. Have a good day.”

“Ok, I will. Thanks. You have a good day as well.” Michelle opened the door and dismissed herself from the room.

Detective Gray sat back at his desk with an expression of disappointment on his face. He wanted to assist the young lady to the best of his ability and was hurt that he couldn’t as he noticed the look of despair that took over Michelle’s face.

Crosswalk

Michelle decided to go to Crosswalk to grab something to eat. As she walked though the double glass doors of the self-seating restaurant, she went to stand in line at the counter. That’s when she heard something familiar.

“Yeah, give me the ham melt plate,” the voice ordered the cashier behind the counter.

Michelle peeped around the line of people anticipating to get their food. She seen four guys in a small huddle as they laughed, talked, and played around.

‘I know those guys from somewhere,’ Michelle thought to herself. After a few seconds, it dawned on her. ’That’s Deacon’s crew!’ Then another revelation: ‘That voice. I’ve heard it somewhere before.’

Michelle quickly flashbacked to another time as her mind continued to wander about this familiarity. Then…

‘THAT’S him! THAT’S the guy!’ she exclaimed silently in her mind.

As the crew got their food, they walked passed Michelle to get to the table they were eyeing. There he was. Terrick Farley a.k.a Trouble. He started staring at Michelle with a sheepish grin as he walked by. But never said a word.

Then Michelle’s ear tuned into something that was key. She heard one of the other crew members slip up and call him by his real name, Terrick. He didn’t like that at all.

Michelle was in a trance for a second, then snapped out of it. She got out of line and hid somewhere Terrick wouldn’t see her. She took her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Detective Gray’s cell phone number.

“Detective Gray! This is Michelle Nace. I know who done it now! I just ran into him at Crosswalk. His name is Terrick. I don’t know a last name. But it’s Terrick!”

“Can you describe him to me, Miss Nace?” Detective Gray asked.

“Umm…” Michelle took a quick glance and a deep breath. “Uh, he’s about five-ten, braids, dark skin, and slim.”

“Ok. I want you to go ahead and leave the restaurant and come back to the station. I’m going to try and bring him up in the database. You come and let me now it’s him. Can you do that?”

“Yes sir. I’m on my way.”

Michelle was able to sneak out of Crosswalk without being noticed and got to her car. She broke a few speed limit laws to get back to the NPD Station, but she did not care at the time.

When Michelle arrived at the station, she let the receptionist know what she was there for. Michelle met Detective Gray at his office.

“Michelle, I pulled up a profile based on the information you gave me. Let me show you,” said Detective Gray. He turned the computer monitor around enough for Michelle to see. “Is this him?” The picture on the monitor exposed Terrick Farley. “That’s Terrick Farley, better known as Trouble.”

“Yes, that’s him. That’s the one that nearly raped me.”

“Raped? You didn’t say anything about that before, Miss Nace.”

“I know, but I’m telling you now that it could have happened.”

“Ok, ok. Well, at least you identified him. But I need you to understand Miss Nace, that I can only put in a restraining order in regards to your case. However, the good news is that we’ve been looking for him for a while now for other things. He has been good about eluding the police and staying out of sight. But we’re going to get him and put him away.”

“That’s actually a relief for me, Detective Gray. He surely has the right nickname for all the stuff he has done. Oh, and he hangs out with another guy that goes by Deacon. They are a nuisance to Nashville. They were the ones who interrupted the funeral of Mrs. Emma, Jeremiah’s grandmother.”

“I appreciate the info. But I can’t lock up Deacon or anyone else for that matter, without evidence that they did anything.”

“I understand. I just want them off the streets. They are beyond dangerous.”

“We will try our hardest and do what we can, Miss Nace.”

“Well, I guess that’s good enough for me. At least you’ll be going to pick up Terrick, hopefully.”

“We’re going to give it our best.”

Michelle grabbed her purse and stepped towards the door. “Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Miss Nace,” bid Detective Gray.

Michelle left out and headed home. Detective Gray stayed in his office most of the night, sipping on coffee and finished up some work. Michelle had a sense of semi-satisfaction in what was going to be done. But would the NPD ever catch up to Terrick Farley, better known as Trouble? And what about Deacon? Would he be locked up for his activity? Only time would tell.

Monday, July 19th, 2010

Deacon’s Hideout

At five forty-five p.m., Jeremiah met up with Deacon and the crew at their hideout. Well, all the crew minus one.

“Fellas, looks like we done lost Trouble,” said Deacon. “They swooped him up last night. He called me and told me that’s where he was. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you church boy?” asked Deacon visually piercing a hole into Jeremiah.

“No, I don’t. Why would you ask me that? Ask some of your other homeboys,” Jeremiah bit back.

“Well, you seem to have known Trouble personally. Maybe he done something before to ruffle your feathers. And just maybe you decided to rat him out.”

“It wasn’t me, Deacon. Can we get down to business now? We’re on a schedule, remember?”

“I’m keeping my eye on you, Jeremiah. Don’t slip up,” Deacon said as he got close to Jeremiah’s face.

Deacon walked off and went to get something in hiding. He picked up a black duffle bag. He then sat it on a table for all the crew to see. “This is the merchandise fellas.” Deacon unzipped the bag to reveal the assortment of prescription drugs inside, all of them to be sold illegally. “Oh, and I decided to bring in a helping hand since Trouble is no longer with us.” Deacon gave Jeremiah the side eye.

Out of the shadows came a young man being initiated into the street game.

“Jerrel??” shouted Jeremiah in astonishment.

“Hey, Mr. Washington. What are you doing here?”

Jeremiah didn’t answer Jerrel’s question. “You don’t need to be a part of this, Jerrel. It’s too dangerous. Turn around and go somewhere else.”

“I need the cash bad, Mr. Washington. You know my struggle.”

“Yes, I know your struggle, Jerrel. But you need to do as I say and get away from here!”

“I can’t go. I can’t leave this. I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t have to do this.” Then something clicked in Jeremiah’s mind. “I don’t have to do this. Why am I even here?”

Deacon looked at Jeremiah with a burning stare. “Are you done? Because you are really wasting my time. I’m on the clock and I don’t have the time for all of this nonsense. Let the boy do what he wants to do.”

“No, I’m not done, Deacon! I dragged myself into this mess, something I shouldn’t have been doing in the first place. I’m throwing my life down the drain for what? A couple of extra bucks? For you? I mean, who are you?”

Jerrel looked at Jeremiah with an attentive ear. Jeremiah looked back at Jerrel and continued. “Jerrel, it ain’t worth it. Listen to me. Walk away for this now. I admit, I brushed you off before because I was too busy wallowing in my own stuff. I apologize to you for doing that. I’m not going to do it again.

“Church boy, remember that those extra couple of bucks is paying for your bills. You are really interrupting my flow and I don’t appreciate it,” said Deacon.

“Well, if you don’t like it, then do whatever you want to me. But there’s no sense in dragging this young man into your dirty work,” responded Jeremiah. “Jerrel, do you really want to end up in jail over something foolish? I know I don’t. Let’s go and get out of here.”

Jeremiah turned to walk the other direction. There stood Jerrel in the crossfire with Jeremiah on one side and Deacon and his crew on the other. Deacon was grounded with his arms folded.

“What’s it going to be Jerrel?” asked Jeremiah. Jerrel peered over at Deacon for a moment. Then he glanced over towards Jeremiah. He decided to walk to Deacon.

Deacon had that same devilish grin he always had, believing he had won the fight. Jerrel looked at Deacon and with a bold stance said, “I’m out!” Then Jerrel went to Jeremiah as Jeremiah wrapped his left arm around Jerrel’s skinny shoulders. There was a sense of being proud that beamed from the spirit of Jeremiah.

Jeremiah and Jerrel began to walk until they were called out by Deacon. “Hey, church boy! I told you that if you ever walked you would pay the price.”

“Yeah, and I’m willing to do that if it means saving this young man. Deacon, you have the same opportunity. All of you do. You have the chance to walk away from all of this,” encouraged Jeremiah.

“No way. Don’t come at me with that stuff. We doing what we do, point blank.”

“Alright, have it your way.” Jeremiah turned back around and walked a few steps further away from Deacon.

“Hey church boy…” cried out Deacon.

“Deacon, I’m done! Now let us go and I won’t say anything about what happened here tonight.” Again, Jeremiah and Jerrel began striding towards the door.

“See, I could let you go. It would be the right thing to do, right? But the problem with let you go is that you could rat me out just like you did Trouble. And I can’t have that,” said Deacon.

At that moment, every exit was blocked by Deacon’s henchmen.

“You know, Jeremiah, I know you do a little poetry,” patronized Deacon. “So do I. Check it out.” Jeremiah and Jerrel again started walking away, but had to figure out how they were going to get out of that warehouse. As they paced towards an exit, Deacon kept talking. “Roses are red, violets are blue. Now you gon’ get what you have coming to you.”

Deacon reached in his back pocket and took out a Glock 9mm loaded with ammunition. He pointed it at Jeremiah’s back and got a good aim. But he was content on pointing it down at his right leg. “You walk from me, then I make sure you don’t walk at all!”

BAM! One shot fired into Jeremiah’s leg. Jeremiah fell limp to the ground. The shout startled Jerrel and he fell backwards to the concrete floor. The shot was so loud that it echoed throughout the steel-walled warehouse.

While Jeremiah was on the ground, blood flowing from his injured leg, Deacon and his crew fled the scene. Deacon made sure to grab the duffle bag on the table on his way out.

“Jerrel, reach in my pocket, get my phone, and call 911!” panicked Jeremiah. He was in a frenzy. “It hurts! It hurts! Please God, help me!”

Jerrel took out Jeremiah’s cell phone and dialed 911. He gave the location of where they were and let the operator know Jeremiah had been shot. Jerrel was visibly shaken up.

Just moments later, paramedics and police arrived. The police questioned Jerrel as paramedics strapped Jeremiah to a gurney to transport him to the hospital. The sirens sounded and the ambulance traveled as fast as it could to the one place that could fully tend to Jeremiah.

Chapter 8: Battle Cry

Tuesday, July 20th, 2010

Nashville Central Hospital

Jeremiah lied in the hospital bed with his leg throbbing in pain and a stinging sensation coupled with it. With an IV drip hooked to his arm, he was being given doses of pain medicine to help him out.

Nurses had entered and exited room 492 to check on Jeremiah and make him as comfortable as possible. Finally, Dr. Mercer walk in with a chart in his had to give Jeremiah the news he was anxiously, yet fearfully awaiting. Dr. Mercer was a tall, mid-forties guy with olive skin and white teeth that not even bleach could accomplish.

“Mr. Washington, let me talk to you,” said Dr. Mercer.

Jeremiah pushed aside the food tray anticipating the next words that were going to come from Dr. Mercer’s mouth. “Go ahead Dr. Mercer.” Jeremiah gave Dr. Mercer permission to proceed as he winced in pain.

“Mr. Washington, without beating around the bush, the good news is the bullet barely missed a nerve according to the MRI. That means you avoided paralysis. You are very lucky in that regard. But we did have to do emergency surgery to remove the bullet from your leg.”

“Ok, I’m happy about that. And luck had nothing to do with it. But what is the bad news?” wondered Jeremiah.

“The bad news is the bullet did hit and tear your gastrocnemius, which is a part of your calf. This will take time to heal. I give it around three months. But in the mean time, you will have to have therapy to rehab your leg. And I will give you a cane to use to walk with while you are healing up. Right now, I just want you to get some rest. We will get you out of here soon enough. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Ok, I will. Thanks doc.”

“Dr. Mercer turned to walk away, but Jeremiah stopped him. “Oh, and doc, I’m not lucky. I’m blessed. More blessed than I thought I was. I realize that now.”

Dr. Mercer gave Jeremiah a bright smile and walked out of the room. Jeremiah sighed and looked at his injured leg. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe I have a torn calf. And I have to walk with a can for three months? Wow.” Then he looked up at the ceiling and started speaking these words to the Lord:

“Dear God, I know I haven’t talked to you in a while. But Lord, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve messed up.”

Still wincing in pain, Jeremiah continued as tears filled his eyes:

“I strayed away from you, but now I want to get back to you. You were my comfort, God, everything I needed. In the midst of getting shot, you protected me and my life, Lord. And I praise you for that. Thank you Lord! Now I want to recommit myself to you. You never turned on me, but I turned on you. Now I want to get back to you.”

“With each line of the prayer, Jeremiah’s voice became louder and louder. There was no ending, no amen. Just a cry from the same young man who seemingly had lost his world.

At the conclusion of the prayer, Jeremiah looked around the room. He was in search of a piece of paper, a napkin, anything he could write on. He finally found a good size notepad in the drawer next to the bed. He took a pen in his hand and began to jot down these words:

The battle arises, the enemy looms

Spread the fire, fan the fumes

But I stand against everything designed for my fall

Fight with God, build up this wall

Insist the protection

Resist the devil so wreckless

This is my loud battle cry

Shout it wide, shout it high

The enemy comes to kill and destroy

But all he talk is just noise

I don’t hear his empty, voided words

Just ready for the battle and prepare

A massive infrastructure

Creating mass destruction

Waiting to implode out from inside us

Yes yes, this is my battle cry…

Jesus

I praise You, my weapon

In it now, the fight has just begun

Lord, disguise me

Hide me

Sustain me

Grab my sword, ready to swing

Strength in Him, Phillipians 4:13

In my stance when the enemy comes nigh

Yes, this is my battle cry

Nothing to scare me from the war

The devil might bring it, but I bring it more

Why am I worried? He’s already defeated

He will fall when I shout “praise Jesus!”

The victory won, it’s already God’s

Stand tall, it’s already mine

Back down devil! I’m walking in Christ

Now I’m yelling my battle cry!

No defeat, in the hands of God

This, right here, is my battle cry!

He penned the last words, looked at the paper and gave a smile ha hadn’t had in months. He then decided to put the label of “Battle Cry” on the art he had just created. Jeremiah gave another look at the poem and decided to read it out loud. There was traffic of nurses, orderlies, and visitors traveling in the hallway. Some stopped in their tracks to hear what was going on in Jeremiah’s room. Others ignored it. But those same auditory spectators were impressed with what tickled their ears and approved it with quiet handclaps.

One of the audience members went ahead and entered the room to visit with Jeremiah. It was Michelle with a vase of flowers in one hand and a card in the other. She still had on her work clothes.

“Great job, Jeremiah! Glad to hear you do your thing again,” smiled Michelle.

“Thanks, but what are you doing here?” asked Jeremiah as he took the flowers and card from Michelle. “The way I brushed you off, I was sure you wouldn’t even speak to me again.”

“Jeremiah, you’re not going to get rid of me that easily. No matter what, I’m going to care for you and about you. Yes, I was hurt by how you came at me. I can’t deny that. But in the end I realized that you were hurt. So it didn’t get next to me like that. I just prayed for you. The best thing I knew to do. Now, Darius on the other hand, he…”

“Oh yeah, Darius. Right. I really messed up big time with him.”

“There’s always time to reconcile with him. As long as you two are breathing, there’s that chance.”

“Yeah, I know. I just need to talk with him and apologize for what went down. But first, let me talk to you, Michelle. Have a seat.” Michelle took a seat in the reclining chair next to the hospital bed. “First of all, let me apologize to you for how I acted towards you. That wasn’t me. I mean, my world was flipped upside down and I took it out on you and Darius, when I shouldn’t have. It was no sense in that. It’s just that I felt attacked instead of you all trying to be there for me. But now I know better.”

“Jeremiah, I accept your apology,” assured Michelle as she placed her hand on top of Jeremiah’s. “But also know I forgave you a long time ago. I’m not even thinking about that anymore. I’m more concerned with how you are doing now. How is your leg?”

“Well, Dr. Mercer said the bullet hit my gastrocnemius, a calf muscle. I will not be able to walk normally for at least three months. So I’m going to need rehab in order to get strength back in my leg. It still stings but not as bad as it did at first. Just got to stay on top of things so I can heal up. Pastor Graves came by earlier and hand prayer with me. I appreciated that.”

“That was nice of him. Do you need me to get you anything?”

“No thank you. I’m fine right now.”

“Ok. Just know that I will help you out and be here for you, Jeremiah. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

“I appreciate that, Michelle. I really do! Thank you for wanting to make that sacrifice. But I have something else to say.”

Michelle leaned over and showed distinct interest in what she was going to hear. “Yes?”

“Michelle, you have been my friend for a long time now. And you have been there for me just like Darius has. But there have been some things I have not shared with you.

Michelle had no clue what Jeremiah would say next, but decided to keep listening.

Jeremiah continued. “I think you are an attractive, beautiful woman, who shows a sense of care and compassion. But you also exhibit a spiritual side that I find amazing. You set yourself apart from any other woman I have ever come across. Your living reflects your raising and your diligence to God’s Word. Your mother should be proud of you. You have shown and taught me a lot since I’ve known you.”

Tearing up, Michelle shows gratitude towards Jeremiah’s sentiments. “Thank you for seeing those things in me, Jeremiah. It makes me happy knowing that someone sees you as a positive. I always say that your everyday living tells the true story of who you are. I’m glad mine reveals a good one.”

“It definitely does. And God will allow others to see things in you that you can’t even see in yourself. But I was thinking, opportunities don’t always show themselves twice. So, Michelle, I want you to know that I have had feelings for you for a long time now, but was always afraid to express them in fear of losing a friend. But now I look at it like this: Why not take a leap and become even greater than that? Through my mess, you never strayed. I’m impressed by that alone. But God showed me something deeper. He showed me that you are everything I need in a woman. So I guess I’m saying this…”

Jeremiah took out a piece of paper in that same notepad and wrote:

Will you be mine? Circle one. Yes or No.

He had drawn a heart on it and handed the note to Michelle.

Michelle sat lifeless for a second, except for a chuckle, then responded. “I don’t know what to say! I mean, as you already know from our fight, I have had feelings for you, too. I wanted to see what it would be like to be with Jeremiah Washington. I was so ready to give up on those feelings. Number one, you never expressed any interest in me. Number two, the day of the fight, I was unsure for a moment if I even still had those feelings. But that funny thing is, those same feelings really never seemed to fade.”

“So what are you saying?” asked Jeremiah.

Michelle took the pen from Jeremiah and circled “yes” on the paper. She handed the paper back to Jeremiah and said, “I’m saying that I want to be yours. BUT I want to take it slow.”

“You know what? I can appreciate and respect that. Besides, anything worth having is worth fighting and waiting for, sweetie,” Jeremiah grinned.

“You’re so right,” smiled back Michelle. “Oh, while we are on the track with happy news, let me tell you this. I’m quitting Maxine’s tomorrow.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Nothing happened, really. It’s just that the school wants me to enroll in an internship at Dexter and Bross as a marketing coordinator so I can be on the fast track to my career as a marketing exec. It actually pays decent money and I will be taking the rest of my college courses online. I’m excited!”

“That is wonderful, sweetheart! I’m so happy for you and proud of you. That is truly a blessing!”

“I know, I know. Thank you! God is surely blessing all the way around. New job, new man, and you seem to be doing better. Whew! God is great!” laughed Michelle.

Jeremiah laughed alongside Michelle. But the mood took a 180 degree turn. Jeremiah’s smile transformed into a more serious look.

“What’s wrong, Jeremiah?” asked Michelle.

“Um, what about your incident with that guy? Any new news from that?”

“Well, I did go to the police and told Detective Gray what happened. Unfortunately, they couldn’t charge him with anything in regards to that.”

“Are you serious? I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s cool. I am serious, but they did pick him up on other charges. Drug trafficking and other things. It was Trouble, the same guy that was outside the church with Deacon during your grandmother’s funeral.”

“Terrick?? It was him? You the one that got him arrested?”

“Somewhat. Is that a problem?” asked Michelle with a bit of disdain.

“No, no! I’m proud you finally went to the police. Although I do feel sorry for Terrick’s girlfriend, Toya and plus they have a child together. But Deacon did jump down my throat, thinking it was me that got him arrested.”

“He did? Is that why he shot you?”

“Yes, he did. And that’s not the reason. I wouldn’t go with him on that last run. That’s why he pulled the trigger. Wait…how did you know it was Deacon who shot me?”

“A young man named Jerrel told me. I don’t know how he knew to come to me. That’s who told me about you being in the hospital in the first place and told me that you had been shot in the leg.”

“Not sure how he connected you to me. But thank God he did! He’s a good young man, just about to fall into the wrong crowd. I’ll have to tell you that story one day. But I will say, he came to me to give him help. But in the end, instead of me rescuing him, he rescued me and my life.”

“Wow, really? He seemed a little rough around the edges. But he did seem to be a nice young man. Very polite.”

“Yeah, that’s him! Speaking of Jerrel, I wonder how he is doing.”

Jeremiah spoke his young friend into existence. At that time, Jerrel walked through the doorway of the room.

“Hi, Mr. Washington. How are you doing?”

“Hey, Jerrel! I was just talking about you. I’m doing well. How are you doing?” asked Jeremiah.

“Oh, I’m fine.” Jerrel turned to Michelle. “Oh, hi Miss Michelle. Didn’t see you sitting there. How are you doing?”

“I’m well, Jerrel. It’s good to see you again!” answered Michelle.

“Same here. How are you feeling, Mr. Washington?

“Oh, I’m feeling fine, Jerrel. Could be a lot worse. But thanks to you, it isn’t.”

“You’re welcome. I was just trying to help you out.”

“Let me apologize to you for the night I pushed you away. But I want to make it up to you. I want to take out some time with you and mentor you. Something like a big brother. As a matter of fact, when I get out of here, I want to give you a place to stay.”

“I would like that, Mr. Washington. You’re going to pay for me an apartment?”

“No. I want you to stay with me, Jerrel.”

“Oh, wow! I would really like that. Thank you so much, Mr. Washington! Oh, I have something to show you.” Jerrel held up a brand new, crisp Bible he had in his hands. “I brought it in the gift shop downstairs.”

“That’s nice, Jerrel! You be sure to use it!” said Jeremiah.

“There’s more,” said Jerrel. He pulled out folded pieces of paper from the Bible and handed it over to Jeremiah.

“What’s this?” asked Jeremiah as he opened the sheets of paper.

“That’s the poem that I told you had an impact on me. That’s “Re|Deemed”. I want you to have it back. You might need to read it someday.”

“Thank you, Jerrel. I think I will hold on to it this time,” said Jeremiah as he gave a wide smile. Michelle was in the background smiling at the same time.

“Good idea!” agreed Jerrel. “Oh, by the way, I brought company. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Who?” Jeremiah wondered

Jerrel went out to the waiting area in the hall to grab his accompaniment. The two headed back into Jeremiah’s room.

“Hey Jeremiah,” spoke the male voice.

“Whatsup, D?” responded Jeremiah.

“I didn’t know if you even wanted to see me. That’s why I stayed in the hall. I guess it’s alright though, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know, D. I think you should have stayed in the hall. As a matter of fact, what you doing in the hospital anyway? I really don’t need you here.” Everybody in the room was confused at Jeremiah’s statements. Michelle, Jerrel, and yes, Darius.

“Seriously? Ok, fine. I’m out of here! I have taken enough abuse from you already,” said Darius, enraged.

Darius turned to walk out the door until Jeremiah stopped him in his tracks. “Darius, wait man.” Jeremiah begins to snicker. “Come back here! I’m just messing!”

“Really?” asked Darius.

“Yeah, man. I guess it’s my way of saying I’m sorry.”

“That’s some way of showing it!” chuckled Darius.

“Come on over here, D. Let me holla at you.”

Darius stepped closer to Jeremiah’s bed. “Whatsup?”

“Man, I truly am sorry. I done you wrong and God convicted me about it. So I want to apologize and let you know that we are boys no matter what. You know I love you like a brother and I know you love me the same. And I know you was just trying to look out for me when I was in my rebellion stage.”

“Yeah, man, I was. I have to admit that I was hurt by how you treated me at your house. Then to not return any of my calls. That was so dirty.”

“Just forgive him, D,” said Michelle in the distance as she entered back into the room. She had exited to grab a cup of coffee. She stood in the doorway.

“Oh, hey Michelle,” spoke Darius. He took a deep breath as though he was taking a plunge into deep waters. “I forgive you, Jeremiah. You’re my best friend. I’m not willing to throw away years of friendship because of something silly. You will always be my brother.”

The two friends embraced as Darius leaned over to get to Jeremiah. Michelle stood, smiling and decided to walk up to Darius and give him a hug as well.

Then Jeremiah wanted to enlighten Darius about something. “Check this out, D. Michelle and I are going out!”

“Nuh uh! Really? When did this happen. Man, that’s cool! You going to have to give me the low down on everything. I’m happy for you two! But, can I give you some good news too? You know Erica? Well, we kinda got a little something going on right now ourselves!”

“I didn’t know you were in a relationship with Erica,” said Michelle.

“Yep. I kept it on the hush. But thanks to you, Michelle, we are an item. She is a sweet woman. She’s funny, can dance, and got some Word in her too! She’s actually a God send,” stated Darius.

“That’s great, man!” said Jeremiah. “You deserve someone who will be good to you and good for you.”

“Thanks,” responded Darius. “So, what about that leg man?”

“Oh, it’s fine. It’s still hurting and stinging a little bit. But the good news is that there is no permanent damage. The bullet struck my calf and tore a muscle in it. But I should be healed up in a few months. The doc has ordered rehab for me. But for now, I have to use either crutches or that ugly, ugly metal cane over there,” Jeremiah said as he pointed to the corner.

“No you don’t,” said a voice afar off. Walked in a woman about five-seven or five-eight, medium tone skin and hair cut in a bob. She appeared to be in her mid-to-late forties. She walked up to Jeremiah with an oblong package, gift wrapped to perfection. Everyone parted to make room for her.

“Aunt Erica! How are you?” asked Jeremiah.

“Hey, Jeremiah! I’m fine. How are you doing?

“Still in pain, but making it. What are you doing here? How did you know I was in here?” asked Jeremiah, perplexed.

“Jeremiah, this is for you.” Aunt Erica handed over the gift to Jeremiah. He unwrapped it to find a cane inside. But it wasn’t just any cane. It was Mrs. Emma’s walnut cane she used all the time. “The belongings were divided among the children. Mark (Erica’s husband) and I got the cane, which is very, very valuable. But we wanted you to have it so you can have a piece of Mama Emma with you. We were in town gathering the items when we ran into Michelle with getting something to eat. She told us about you being in here. I hope you don’t mind the visit.”

“Thank you for the cane. I sure can use it. And I don’t mind you being here. But I am a bit confused to why you would be here when you and the family snubbed me at the funeral. Plus, what are you doing with the cane anyway? You said the belongings were divided among the children. You’re not Granny’s child.”

“Jeremiah…” interrupted Michelle, giving Jeremiah a stern look.

“No, Michelle. I want to say this,” insisted Jeremiah. Michelle decided to back off. “You all didn’t want anything to do with me at the time of Granny’s death. Why was that? Have ya’ll became too important?”

“It’s ok Michelle. Jeremiah, let me explain,” pleaded Aunt Erica. “We were so hurt at the time. It threw us all for a loop. We wanted to blame you, because you were the one to take care of her every day. But it wasn’t your fault. It was just her time to go. But I came to the realization that we were in the wrong. We didn’t do our part in caring for Mama Emma. And we have to repent for that. Ask God to forgive us. And I want you to forgive us, Jeremiah.”

Erica carried on. “As far as the cane, I can’t tell you why it was given to Mark and me. Only Mama Emma knows why.”

“Ok. Where’s Uncle Mark?” asked Jeremiah in a cold manner.

Michelle cut her eyes towards Jeremiah as to say “you know better.” Jeremiah caught a glimpse of Michelle and retracted. “Alright Aunt Erica, I do forgive you and the rest of the family as well. No sense in holding grudges against each other. You all hurt me a lot, but….we will move beyond this, learn and grow from this.”

“Yes, we will,” said Aunt Erica as she gave Jeremiah a hug. “I’m glad to know that we can move forward and not look back.I’m so sorry Jeremiah.”

“Yeah, I’m glad too. I love you, Aunt Erica.”

“I love you too, Jeremiah. By the way, I have something else to give you.” Aunt Erica flashed a mailer envelope and passed it to Jeremiah.

“What is it, Aunt Erica?”

“Open it and see. It’s something Mama Emma willed to you.”

Jeremiah opened the envelope and there sat inside a wad of cash and a note. “Whoa! Where did all of this cash come from?”

“Mama Emma saved it over time. Didn’t believe in stashing cash in banks, so she kept it over the years. Read the note.”

Jeremiah read what the now said:

To my Grandson, Jeremiah,

I will this gift of money to you in a total amount of $60,000. It is a token of my appreciation of all that you have done for me over the years. You have taken care of me and I want to take care of you this one last time. Please, use it wisely. Make sure you put some back for a rainy day.

Love,

Granny

“$60,000?!” said Jeremiah in great amazement. “How did Granny save this much money?”

“She just put a little back here and there. Monetary gifts she got, she didn’t spend them, but decided to save them,” said Aunt Erica.

“So how did Deacon and his crew not get a hold of this? How was this missed by them?” asked Jeremiah.

“Mama Emma kept it in a very safe place,” said Aunt Erica. Who is Deacon?

“It don’t matter right now. Well, all I can say is praise God!” exclaimed Jeremiah. “This is an answered prayer! I can use this to pay on a couple of things. Just to think, I was trying to get this the wrong way. But God never fails to show up!”

Jeremiah allowed a few raindrops of tears to scurry down his cheeks. He was surely in a state of joy, which caused a domino effect. Everyone in the room, Michelle, Jerrel, Darius, and Aunt Erica, followed the pattern of praising God with Jeremiah. They had fulfilled the scripture in Romans 12:15 that says, “rejoice with them that do rejoice.”

Everyone had given Jeremiah company for a couple of hours. Then, one by one, everyone began parting. The last person left was Michelle, who tended to Jeremiah when the nurses were away. From Jeremiah’s battle cry came the determination to not be defeated at the hands of the enemy!

Chapter 9: From Bitter to Better

Monday, August 23rd, 2010

It had been weeks since Jeremiah had been released from the hospital. He had been attending rehab sessions and made great progress. He even attempted a time or two to stand without the help of the cane. His strength wasn’t quite up to par to achieve that just yet. But the effort was surely there.

Jeremiah had taken his inherited money and paid off the $20,157 left on his Lexus. He placed an even $20,000 in the bank to cover his mortgage for the next several months. He tithed ten percent of it and stashed the rest in a savings account. This was to definitely take a burden off the shoulders of Jeremiah. He had been off of work since the accident, but he was being sustained by God. God was carrying him through all the way. Jerrel had been staying with Jeremiah, which had worked out well. But at this time, he was working a job cutting yards, so he wasn’t at home.

All in all, life had gotten better for Jeremiah. He had become a new(er) man and the negative that once embodied him seemed to had disappeared. A new found joy had overtaken him.

Jeremiah’s House

It was eight forty-five in the morning. Little to Jeremiah’s knowledge, today was going to be a packed day. It started with Jeremiah making a phone call to Darius. He dialed the number, hit send, and placed the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” answered Darius.

“D! Whatsup, bruh?” answered back Jeremiah.

“Whatsup, Jeremiah?! How’s it going?”

“Good, good. Can’t complain. How are you doing?”

“Man, I’m good. Just at work sketching out plans for the new project.”

“Cool. Hey, why don’t you meet me for lunch at twelve?”

“Maxine’s?” asked Darius.

“Maxine’s it is!”

“Cool. I’ll see you at twelve then!”

“Alright, man. Meet you there. Talk to you later.”

“Alright. See you later.”

Jeremiah hung up the phone with the thought of never saying goodbye as usual. But before he would put his Blackberry down, he dialed another number and sent it through.

“Detective Patton Gray speaking.”

“Hi Detective Gray. This is Jeremiah Washington.”

“Ah, yes. Mr. Washington. How are you feeling?”

“Better. I can say that much. I need to meet with you today.”

“Ok. Give me a time, Mr. Washington.”

“One-thirty?”

“One-thirty is fine. Come to the station and we’ll chat.”

“I appreciate it. I’ll see you then.”

“Very well. Goodbye Mr. Washington.”

Jeremiah hung up the phone and made a conscience decision to finish preparing for the day ahead. He was getting back into the habit of doing his daily devotionals and his morning prayer time. He cooked scrambled eggs, sausage patties, and biscuits, with mixed fruit on the side. Jeremiah washed it down with a tall glass of orange juice and preceded to dress himself in jeans and a polo shirt all while trying not to put pressure on that right leg.

After getting dressed and finishing up his routine, he limped out the door to meet up with Darius at Maxine’s. He sat behind the wheel of his car and took off down the road. Even though too much pressure couldn’t be applied to his leg, he was still capable of using his right foot to drive.

When Jeremiah had arrived at Maxine’s, Darius was waiting on him. Darius walked to Jeremiah’s driver side door, opened it up and helped Jeremiah exit the car.

“Umm, D. I’m limping a bit. I’m not totally helpless,” Jeremiah playfully said to his best friend. Darius just laughed it off.

The two entered in Maxine’s and the hostess seated them at a table. Maxine’s always had lunch specials, mostly sandwiches and light plates, such as catfish and fries.

That waitress, named Ashley, came to the table and took Jeremiah and Darius’ order. Jeremiah had a cheeseburger and fries. Darius ordered the catfish, fries, and hush puppies. Both decided to be content with a glass of water.

During the course of their lunch, the two friends struck up a conversation.

“Well, D,” started Jeremiah. “I’m meeting up with Detective Gray to talk to him about some things.”

“Oh yeah? What time?”

“One-thirty. I’m going to tell him it was Deacon who raided Granny’s house. I can’t be afraid anymore, D.”

“You know that Deacon is locked up, right? So you really don’t have to tell.”

“No, I wasn’t aware of that. When did he get arrested?”

“The way I understand it, it was the same night you got shot. Got him when he was about to rob the president of IBA. Charged him with attempted robbery and possession of drugs with the intent to distribute. He also has weapon charges, possession of a hand gun. Got him and his crew. Got that dude Tek on identity theft, hacking into folks’ bank accounts.”

“Yeah, it was going to be ugly, man. That’s when I decided to not be a part of it anymore. But how did you find out he was arrested?”

“Good move on your part. It was all on the news, man.”

“I missed it! Well, good! Glad he’s off the streets. I was dumb to even get in business with him.”

“You was just desperate. In the end, God came through for you though. Deacon’s gone, you got some cash flow, and you’re still alive. If that ain’t a blessing from heaven!”

“Yeah, I know, right?! But I still want to go see Detective Gray. You know, to clear my mind.”

“Man, I back you all the way. Do what you feel is necessary. I’m in until the end.”

“You’re a good friend, D.”

“Yeah, I know,” chuckled Darius. “But you’re going to think I’m an even better friend when I tell you this.”

“What is it?”

“Well, the accountant at Motions Intellect moved to another location in Texas and got promoted. So, they had been looking and I put in a good word to the head of administration department about you this morning. Mr. James Borwood is his name. He wants you to come in at eight o’clock tomorrow morning for an interview.”

“Man, you done this for me? How can I say thank you?”

“Yeah, just for you. We’re boys, right? And you can thank me by showing up tomorrow,” smiled Darius.

“I’ll be there! Wait…how did I get an interview without turning in a resume?”

“God! That’s how! All logic is out the window when it comes to God’s provisions. Just bring your resume with you tomorrow.”

“You’re right, D. You’re right. I really don’t know what to say, but praise God and thank you!”

“No need to thank me. God is in control!”

“True. He sure is! But to cap this wonderful lunch off, I’m inviting you to come to Harmony Friday night. I’m doing it, man! I’m getting back up there!”

“No joke?”

“No joke! I’m getting back to what I love…or use to love.”

“You know I’m in! Do you care if I bring Erica along?”

“Of course not. The more, the merrier. I’m going to invite Michelle and I’m sure she will bring Khrystal. And I’m going to bring Jerrel along.”

“Cool” Darius looked at his watch and seen what time it was. “Well, I need to get back to work.” The time was then twelve forty-five.

“Yeah, and I need to get to the station after a while,” Jeremiah said while reaching in his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

“What you doing? You don’t have to pay,” insisted Darius. “I’ll get it.”

“No, let me get it. You have blessed me, now let me bless you.”

“Well, I appreciated it, man!”

The two scooted from the table after paying for the meal, removed themselves, and left a tip. They hugged each other as that brotherly love resonated once again and parted ways.

NPD Police Station

Jeremiah had done a little driving around before pulling into the police station. He had been thinking about a lot, but was mainly reflecting on how good God had been to him the past few weeks, including today.

Once Jeremiah had parked in a spot near the door, he got out of the car and went into the station. The receptionist greeted him and buzzed for Detective Gray to make him aware he had a visitor.

“Hey Detective Gray,” spoke Jeremiah.

“Hello, Mr. Washington. It’s good to see you again. It seems you are doing well,” said Detective Gray.

“I am. I’m holding up just fine. I heard Deacon is behind bars and I’m happy about that. You know, he’s the one who shot me in the leg, right?”

“Yes, we know. CSI found the shell casing to the bullet in your leg on the ground in the warehouse. It matched the bullets in the gun we found on Deacon. It was just a matter of piecing it all together. We got him on possession of the firearm, possession of drugs, and attempted robbery.”

“Yeah, that’s what I heard.”

“My question to you is, why was you hanging around Deacon anyway?”

Jeremiah took a deep breath. Truth is, I lost my job and nearly lost my mind, detective. I cut a deal with Deacon to do some jobs for him and he would let me keep a portion of the cash. I really needed the money.”

“So you’re telling me you got involved in the prescription drug ring?”

“Yes. Am I in trouble?”

“You could be. Very much so. But since you was victimized, I will let you off the hook on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Get Deacon to confess.”

“Confess to what?”

“Confess to ransacking Mrs. Emma’s house. That’s what you was coming to me for, right? To tell me it was him who went through all of your grandmother’s belongings?”

“Well, yeah. But how did you know?” wondered a dumbfounded Jeremiah.

“I had an inclination. So, will you do it? You do and we will pretend that you was never involved. And we get Deacon on the charge of burglary to go along with the laundry list of stuff we already got him on.”

“Yes, I will do it.”

“Good. I will make a call and get him transferred down here a.s.a.p. We will put him in the interrogation room and let you have at it. No fear, Jeremiah.”

Jeremiah sat listless as Detective Gray made the phone call. Jeremiah was playing in his mind what he would even say to Deacon to get him to confess to the crime. The clock was ticking.

“It’s all done,” said Detective Gray. He will be here in thirty minutes. Would you like anything? Coffee? Water? Muffin?”

“No thank you,” Jeremiah quietly answered.

“Listen, Jeremiah. It will be fine. Detective Necarma and I will be standing outside the door. If anything goes down, we will come in.”

“Ok, I guess I’ll be ready for him.”

“Good. Now we just wait.”

Station Interrogation Room

At two thirty-nine p.m., Deacon showed up to the station, cuffed and escorted by police. They took him straight to interrogation where Detective Gray and Detective Necarma was awaiting his arrival.

“Well, hello Mr. Harrison,” greeted Detective Gray. “So glad you could be here. We’re going to put you in the company of someone to chat it up with.”

Deacon sat at the table, seemingly uninterested in what Detective Gray was saying. ‘Deacon. Mr. Harrison?’ Jeremiah thought to himself. ‘What is his first name?’

Jeremiah was motioned by Detective Gray to come in the room. As Jeremiah stepped in, the detectives stepped out to view and hear on the other side of the double window. Detective Gray patted Jeremiah on the shoulder to assure him it would be alright.

Deacon finally allowed words to be uttered after sitting quietly. “Jeremiah. What are you doing?”

“Deacon, what is your name?” asked Jeremiah.

“Elijah. Elijah Harrison. Why did you need to know that?”

“I just did. Elijah, you know, I could really hurt you for doing this to me. I am having to walk on a cane because of you!”

Deacon, or Elijah, went back into his despondent state, not responding to Jeremiah’s frustration. Jeremiah had to tell himself to calm down.

Jeremiah continued, “But what I really want to know is why did you do what you did to my grandmother?”

“Because at the time it felt good.”

“That’s not a good enough answer, Elijah! Why did you do it?”

“Because I had to!” fired back Elijah. “You, in your perfect world, would never understand.”

Detective Gray looked over to Detective Necarma. “We got him. That sounds like a confession to me.”

“I agree. Do we take him out of there now?” asked Detective Necarma.

“No let’s wait a minute,” responded Detective Gray.

But Jeremiah wasn’t done. Jeremiah, sitting on the other side of the table, leaned into Elijah’s space. “Try me.”

Elijah (Deacon) attempted to explain. “See, there’s something you don’t know about me, Jeremiah. I was a foster child my whole childhood, bouncing between homes. At the age of five, when you wasn’t even born, it was Mrs. Emma who took me in. I was separated from my twin brother who I haven’t seen since.”

“So what does that have to do with you robbing my grandmother?”

“Let me finish. Your grandmother allowed them to take me away from her. She didn’t put up a fight and I never understood why. She was so good to me. Took real good care of me. So why didn’t she let me stay when I wanted to? Later on , I chalked it up to her not loving me as much as she fronted she did. She threw me away like everyone else would do. Do you know what it feels like to be thrown away? Of course you don’t. I had to hustle at a young age just to survive.”

“So let me get this straight. You were taken in by Granny. She loved on you, fed you, clothed you, and everything else. Yet you feel she didn’t do enough because something happened beyond her control. And twenty-something years later, you decide to retaliate. Why wait so long?”

“Jeremiah, it’s all about timing. Everything we do in the streets is about timing. But honestly, I don’t feel good about what I did anymore.”

“Why should I believe you? You killed my grandmother!”

“I didn’t kill your grandmother!” snapped back Elijah (Deacon). “She died after we left. Yes, I steal. Yes, I sell. But I’m not a murderer! I wanted..!” Deacon yelled at first, but then calmed his voice. “I wanted to steal from her, because she stole from me any hope of a normal childhood. But these weeks in jail had me thinking. I was wrong in what I believed. I was wrong in what I done. You have to forgive me, Jeremiah.”

Jeremiah rolled his eyes and shook his head. Was the toughest man in the streets really showing a softer side? It was hard for Jeremiah to swallow all of this. But then he finally answered. “You know what? I can forgive you. But honestly, it will be hard to forget what happened.”

“That’s fine. I know I need to change. But I need help,” said Elijah looking down towards the table.

“Change ain’t easy, Elijah. It doesn’t come overnight. But I’ll be praying for you.”

Elijah gave Jeremiah a nod. No words, no smile. Just a nod.

The two detectives walked back in the room, along with the police escort. “Ok, Mr. Harrison, time to go. You know now we are going to add the charge of second degree burglary to your sheet, right?” asked Detective Gray.

Elijah was handcuffed and taken out of the room. But as he walked by Jeremiah, he took a five second glance, then dropped his head. Jeremiah looked back at him square in the eye and lipped “Jesus” to him. Elijah dropped his head again and stepped where the officer lead.

“Jeremiah, you done fine son,” said Detective Gray. “But this is not over. You may be asked to testify in court when his trial comes up.”

“I can do that. No fear, right detective?”

“Right. Go on home kid. We’ll see you another time.”

Jeremiah gave a slight smile, gathered his things, walked past the detectives and slipped out the room into obscurity. He had accomplished what he wanted to accomplish and he felt satisfied in that.

Cemetery

After Jeremiah left the station, he decided to pay Mrs. Emma a visit. Flowers in his hand, he parked the car and made his way to his grandmother’s tombstone. He took off his sunglasses and looked down at the gravesite. He wished he could kneel, but due to his bum leg, that was out of the question.

“Hi Granny,” Jeremiah started out as he placed the flowers on the tombstone. The wind was blowing slightly, just enough for a breeze. It was as though Mrs. Emma was coming through embracing Jeremiah ever so gently. “I miss you so much, but I know you’re smiling on me. Just wish you could have been here a little longer, but I guess God need you more.” Jeremiah took a breath. “Guess what? They got who broke into your house, Granny. They got him! Deacon is his nickname. Elijah Harrison. But why didn’t you tell me about him Granny? It doesn’t matter now though. I’m just glad they got him and his gang off the streets.”

Jeremiah focused on the absence of his grandmother’s voice. It hurt him to know she wouldn’t be able to talk back to him. He continued, “You wouldn’t be so proud of me in other ways. I fell off and got into some bad things, Granny. I put God on the back burner and when I done that, trouble came to the forefront, knocked on my door. But I did get away from that. I’m no longer doing that bad stuff, although it came with a price. Change for the good always costs. You taught me that, Granny.” Jeremiah smiled, but also felt tears come on.

The one-sided conversation continued to flow. “Oh and you won’t believe this. Michelle and I are a couple now! Yeah, funny, right? You said it would happen one of these days. And I surely didn’t believe you! But here we are!”

At that time, Michelle walked up and hugged Jeremiah from behind. It startled Jeremiah at first, but he turned around and hugged Michelle in return.

“I thought I would find you here,” said Michelle. “Went to your house and you wasn’t there. So I came here.”

“Yeah. Just talking to Granny. I miss her so much, Michelle,” Jeremiah said.

“I know you do, sweetheart. But always rest assure that she is in a place we envy to be. She’s well, but are you going to be ok?” The couple moved to a bench nearby.

“See you later Granny,” Jeremiah said as he moved away from the tombstone. “It’s going to take some time. But I will be ok. I’m sure of the fact that God will take care of me. At least one chapter has been closed.”

“What do you mean?” Michelle asked.

“I was asked by Detective Gray to get Deacon to confess to robbing Granny.”

“Did he confess?”

“Yeah, he did. I was glad he did, too. So he is going to have an extra charge on him now. Check this out: The crazy thing is Granny had taken Deacon in when he was five years old. Well, I found out his name is actually Elijah.”

“So he was living with Mrs. Emma at one time?”

“Yes. His rage was an act of retaliation. He felt that Granny abandoned him.”

“Oh, wow. What did you think about that?”

“It just didn’t make sense to me. Twenty-something years to retaliate? Plus I know Granny would never just abandon someone. Something was very wrong with that whole picture.”

“Well, at least he’s behind bars now.”

“Yeah. But he’s reaching his hand out for someone to take it and help him.”

“Goes to show you there’s always hope for people, regardless of their past.”

“You’re so right about that.” Jeremiah paused, then resumed his talking. “Oh, by the way, come to Harmony Friday night.”

“What’s going on Friday night?”

Jeremiah turned to Michelle and just smiled. This excited Michelle to no ends and was so happy Jeremiah was getting back on stage. “I love it! You know I will be there for you, Jeremiah!”

Jeremiah and Michelle locked in a hug and continued to talk while soaking up the beautiful day. Jeremiah was so engrossed in the conversation, he nearly lost track of time.

“Well, I need to get back home so I can be there when Jerrel gets home,” Jeremiah said.

“Ok. Call me tonight,” said Michelle.

“I will. See you later, sweetie.”

“See you later, Jeremiah.”

One final hug and Jeremiah went to his car and headed home. It had overall been a great day. Life had seemed to smile on Jeremiah once more. It had definitely shown signs of getting better.

Chapter 10: A New Destiny

Tuesday, August 24th, 2010

Jeremiah’s House

Jeremiah had awoken to a sunny Tuesday morning and stretched before he got up from the bed. His feet touched the ground and he excitedly said “Thank you Lord!”

Jerrel was still asleep in his room. So Jeremiah moved around as quietly as possible to get ready for his interview at Motions Intellect without disturbing Jerrel. With is can giving him assistance, he moved from the shower, to the closet, to the kitchen. Jeremiah got dressed in a tan suit, blue shirt, and tie that accented both colors. He cooked breakfast with enough for Jerrel to have something to eat. Pancakes and bacon. Jeremiah had his daily devotional and a little more prayer time.

On this same day that Jeremiah had his interview, Jerrel was to go out looking for a job. Since Jerrel didn’t have a car to drive, yet along couldn’t drive in the first place, he had to catch public transportation to get from place to place.

Jeremiah slowly walked in Jerrel’s room. “Jerrel, time to get up buddy.” It was then seven-thirty a.m. “Time to get ready and get going. I’ve got to get to my interview. There’s breakfast in the microwave and I left some money on the counter for you.”

Jerrel turned over, still sleepy eyed. “Ok. Thank you Mr. Washington.”

Jeremiah smiled and said, “You’re welcome. Oh, and blessings on your search today. I’m proud of you Jerrel.”

“Thank you Mr. Washington. And blessing s to you on your interview.”

“Thank you, Jerrel. Oh and you don’t have to call me Mr. Washington anymore. Call me Jeremiah.”

“I just wouldn’t feel right doing that. One thing my mom did teach me was manners.”

“Ok, kid. Have it your way,” Jeremiah said smiling. “I’m outta here. Have a good one!”

“You too, Mr. Washington.” Jerrel got up from the bed and headed to the shower.

Motions Intellect, Inc.

Jeremiah walked into Motions Intellect ten minutes before his eight o’clock appointment. The receptionist up front assisted him and in no time he was sitting across from James Borwood, director of administration and accounting.

“Hello Mr. Borwood. I’m Jeremiah Washington. Nice to meet you,” greeted Jeremiah with a grin.

“Hello Mr. Washington. It is a pleasure meeting you as well. Have a seat,” invited Mr. Borwood as he held out his hand towards the chair opposite of him. “I have definitely heard great things about you from Darius Jackson, one of our best employees here.”

“Oh, yes. I appreciate the things he has said. He surely is a great friend of mine.”

“Great! Do you have your resume handy?”

“Yes sir, I do. Here you go,” said Jeremiah as he handed over about three sheets worth of information on himself.

“Thank you.” Mr. Borwood looked over Jeremiah’s resume with a fine toothed comb and then commented. “Everything on here looks fantastic, Mr. Washington. But why did you leave IBA?”

“Sir, I was actually laid off. I loved the job, but they had to cut back and I was low in seniority.”

“I see. Now let me go over some things with you. In this accountant position, you will work from eight-thirty to four-thirty each day, with occasional opportunities for overtime. Overtime is actually logged into your comp time or hours earned towards vacation time. We are responsible for hundreds of clients, so we expect diligence and around only a two to five percent error rate.”

“Ok. That is surely doable.”

“Good. You will be a salary employee, which I see you was at IBA. Pay is right at $80,000 a year according to your experience, with chances of advancement, paid bi-weekly and paid lunch.”

“Wow! That’s a little more than I was making at IBA. That’s great!”

“We pride ourselves on promptness, integrity, and an all-around good work ethic. Let me ask you, if you come in late, take lunches beyond your allotted time, do you believe it is stealing?”

“Yes sir, I do. To have a job like this is a privilege and should be treated as such.”

“I like that answer, Mr. Washington. Would you like the job?”

“Yes sir, I would!”

“Great! I will check your references and give you a call back very soon.”

“Thank you sir. I really appreciate it!” Jeremiah gratefully said as he got up from the chair. “You’re welcome. Look forward to talking with you more. Have a wonderful day, Mr. Washington!” Mr. Borwood said, shaking Jeremiah’s hand.

“You too, Mr. Borwood!”

Jeremiah exited the office, then the building beaming with excitement about his new job opportunity. Soon after he wanted to make a stop that he felt was important to make. He drove until he came to a brick building . The name on the bricked sign spelled out, “I-B-A”.

Jeremiah walked inside and was greeted by nearly every one of his former co-workers. One guy, named David Wilson, came up to Jeremiah.

“Jeremiah!” David said with excitement. David worked in the accounting department with Jeremiah. “What are you doing here? You got your job back?”

“Hey David, how are you?” asked Jeremiah. “No, I just came to take care of something important.”

“Oh, too bad. We really miss you around here. What happened to your leg?”

“Long story, man. Too long to tell right now. Maybe we can catch up at a later date. But hey, it was good seeing you!”

“Cool. Yeah, same here, man. You take care of yourself,” David encouraged.

“You too , David.” Jeremiah and David parted ways.

Jeremiah got on the elevator to the fifth floor and limped to the second office at the right of the hallway. He knocked on the door.

“Come in,” prompted the voice on the other side of the door. Jeremiah done as he was told and walked inside. “Mr. Washington! How are you?” asked the man behind the desk as he scooted his chair away.

“Hello Mr. Graff. How are you?”

“I’m good,” answered Mr. David Graff. “What brings you here? That last thing I know, we didn’t leave each other on the best of terms.”

“No sir, we didn’t. That’s why I came by. I was going through a rough time with my grandmother’s death. And me getting fired just compounded everything. But that is no excuse for the way I acted that day. I apologize for my attitude and the way I dismissed myself. That was unprofessional of me. And even more, not the way I should conduct myself as a man of God. It wasn’t how I was raised. You all gave me great opportunities here and I appreciate it. So, yeah, basically I’m saying to you that I’m sorry.”

“Mr. Washington, I thank you for coming to me personally to let me know this. I do accept your apology. And to let you know, I really hated losing you. You knew how to handle the accounts given to you in a profound way. Wish we could hire you back.”

“Not to be rude, Mr. Graff, but leaving here actually was the best thing to happen to me. Other doors opened up for me. I thank you for the time here, but my time was up. God had a plan all along and I’m just now understanding that.”

“Mr. Washington, I totally understand. I pray the best for you and your future,” Mr. Graff said as he shook Jeremiah’s hand.

“Thank you, sir. You have a good day.”

“You too, Mr. Washington,” smiled Mr. Graff.

Jeremiah walked out of IBA with his head held up high. What he previously deemed as a cures was now viewed as a blessing. Jeremiah felt as though he was beginning to walk into his new destiny.

Wednesday, August 25th, 2010

Jeremiah woke up to his usual routine Wednesday morning and sat down on the couch. It was about nine-seventeen when he received a call.

“May I speak with Jeremiah Washington, please?” asked the caller.

“This is him speaking,” said Jeremiah.

“Hi Mr. Washington. This is James Borwood from Motions Intellect. I interviewed you yesterday.”

“Yes, yes. How are you doing, Mr. Borwood?”

“I’m doing well. I was calling you with some good news. I looked at your references and contacted your former employers. We would like to officially offer you the job as an accountant with our company.”

“That’s great news! I accept the offer and excited to be on board!”

“We’re excited to have you on board. Please come by tomorrow at eight o’clock a.m. to fill out some paper work. If all is well, you will start Monday with training. We look forward to working with you.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Borwood. I will see you in the morning.”

“Have a good day, Mr. Washington.”

“You too.”

Jeremiah hung up and had his own praise party. He felt refreshed, renewed, and rebirthed. A new man had emerged from the ashes of despair!

At around eleven o’clock, Jerrel came in the house. He had been out for a second day looking for a job.

“Mr. Washington, guess what!?” said Jerrel.

“What’s that Jerrel?” asked Jeremiah.

“I got a job! I was so afraid no one would hire me because I didn’t graduate high school. But the manager at Go Burgers is willing to give me a chance.”

“I’m proud of you, Jerrel. Congratulations!”

“Thank you. But Mr. Washington, I’ve been thinking about something else.”

“Yes?”

“I’ve been thinking about going to get my GED.”

“Really?”

“Yes sir. It’s been on my mind for a while now.”

“Well, go for it. I will help you all I can. I will help you study for the test. But I’m confident that you can pass the test, Jerrel.”

“Thank you. I will give it my best, but I am a little scared.”

“No need to be scared. Trust in God, Jerrel. So when do you start your new job?”

“Tomorrow at noon. I’ll be working around five hours a day. When do you start your new job?” wondered Jerrel.

“How do you know I even got the job?” asked Jeremiah.

“I just know you did. So?”

“I fill out paper work tomorrow and start Monday!”

“That’s great, Mr. Washington! Congratulations to you!”

“Thank you Jerrel. So we need to celebrate, right?”

“Right!”

“How about we go grab some lunch. My treat!”

“Ok, Mr. Washington. Let’s go!”

Serenity Baptist Church

That night, Jeremiah and Jerrel attended Bible study at six o’clock. They took their seat and Pastor H.M. Graves began his lesson. He was teaching the adults on the subject of the fruit of the spirit. He was on the love portion of it for the night.

“Love is to be the foundation of everything that we exhibit,” started Pastor Graves. “Joy, patience, peace, everything. If love is not at the base of what we do, then there is no need of doing it. We must understand that there should not be an ulterior motive to our actions. Let’s look at John 15:10.”

Jeremiah took notes while Jerrel sat and listened. The study lasted for about an hour and was ended. As Jeremiah and Jerrel were about to leave the church, Pastor Graves beckoned for Jeremiah to come over and talk to him. Jeremiah stepped over in his direction, while Jerrel sat down away from the conversation.

“Brother Jeremiah, it’s good to have you back at church. How have you been?” asked Pastor Graves.

“Pastor, I’ve been real good,” Jeremiah responded. “Just rehabilitating this leg. I have a long way to go, but I’ll make it.”

“That’s good. I just wanted to say I know it has been rough for you over the past few months. But what we must always have confidence in is that God is going to bring us out of the fire. Always carry with you in your heart the story of the three Hebrew boys. They had God in the furnace with them the whole time. God was with you through your mess and your fall apart.”

“You’re right, Pastor. And thank God for faithful friends.”

“Yes, Brother Jeremiah. Thank God for them. Never take for granted the friendships you have.”

“I understand completely, Pastor. And I surely won’t. I made mistakes in the past with friendships that I won’t make again.”

“I’m proud of you, Brother Jeremiah. Thank you for being the man you are. And even of greater importance, the man you have become. We’re going to get you back into the swing of things with the youth soon. But for now, just know that you have done my heart good in many ways and I love you, son.”

“Thank you and God bless you for your kind words, Pastor. I love you too. And I’m so blessed to have you in my life.”

“I will continue to pray for you and Brother Jerrel both. Please, don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

“I won’t hesitate.”

“Have a good night, Brother Jeremiah.”

“You too, Pastor.”

Pastor Graves hugged Jeremiah and embraced him for a few seconds. Jeremiah and Jerrel exited the church to head home. This week had been tremendous to Jeremiah. Just by the body language of Jeremiah, he had a renewed life and confidence. Head held up high and walking upright. Yes, he felt like a new man.

Chapter 11: More Than a Conqueror

Friday, August 27th, 2010

Harmony Café

A great crowd stuffed Harmony almost to the point of standing room only on this beautiful Friday night. Among the faces were Darius, Michelle, and Erica. Darius and Erica were on their second ‘date’ and had immensely enjoyed each other. Michelle definitely gave her approval through one of her huge, pretty smiles. She was happy for her two friends.

A little later, Khrystal joined the group on this special open mic night. She was greeted with hugs from the other three as she took her place at the round table. There sat the four friends awaiting the performances of the poets.

Then walked in Jeremiah, with Mrs. Emma’s cane in tow. But he was not alone. He had a guest with him. It was Jerrel, all cleaned up and looking like a brand new young man. They walked over to where the rest of the group was, Jeremiah with a limp since he was still in rehab. The group didn’t notice Jeremiah and Jerrel at first. Jeremiah walked up behind them and cleared his throat loud enough for them to hear. All of them turned around to get Jeremiah and Jerrel in their vision.

Darius was the first to remove himself from the table and gave Jeremiah a big hug. He then moved over to Jerrel and shook his hand, along with a headshake of amazement. He was taken aback by Jerrel’s new look of a clean shave, fresh jeans, button down shirt and brown blazer.

Darius’ greeting was followed by Erica, Khrystal, and finally, Michelle. Yet, Michelle’s was a little different. She went up to Jeremiah and not only gave him a hug, but a small kiss as well. She flashed a bright smile and whispered, “Good to have you back.”

The MC, Big Bryan, came over the sound system. “Let’s welcome back to the stage, a favorite of ours, Mr. Jeremiah Washington!”

The roar of the people was near deafening. Jeremiah gave a smile and walked up on the familiar stage with a slight limp. He had been gone for months, but he had returned home.

Jeremiah gave Big Bryan a hug and stepped up to the mic. “God bless you.” Jeremiah teared up a bit, but continued to speak as he sat on the stool provided. “It’s good to be back home! I’m not one for long introductions, so I want to start this off with something I wrote a while back. This is for you, Jerrel.”

Jeremiah grabbed the tip of his trademark newsboy cap to adjust it. Then he recited the poem “Re|Deemed.”

“Beautiful spirit buried deeply in sin

Tortured by this disease that has overtaken man.

Separation from God has befell him

Only God’s love could redeem him.

See, redeemed is to be revived

Relived through the eyes of Christ.

Reborn to be renewed

Black skies transform to blue.

Trade in the old life for a new mind

Submit to intervention so divine

Much given, much required is true

New man in as the old man flew.

I give myself three-fold

A renewed, living story is told.

Mind, body, spirit to the Lord

Living strictly in His Word.

Redeemed, now I reflect Jesus

Through Him, more power than Greek Zeus.

I walk differently, don’t talk the same

So fresh off the press that I have a new name.

Jesus died that I may have new breath

Picking me up when I had nothing left.

Now I owe Him everything I have

Releasing the iniquity that had me trapped.

Redeemed, deemed to be unfixable

Re, rewind to the future attainable.

Float to newness by God’s grace

Use to see darkness, but now I see His face.

No longer even recognized

By the mere human eyes.

Must look through me with spiritual sense

See the man I’ve become, a better me

Not the man I left behind, the use to be.

Redeemed, it’s a change that feels so good

New growth after the negative flood.

I praise God for who I am now

Redeemed to the point of a new vow.

Rehabed, Renewed, Re|Deemed

Thank God for Him being in me.”

As Jeremiah finished, Jerrel was the first to stand up and give applause. Everyone else subsequently stood up to show approval to Jeremiah’s work.

After it had quieted down, Jeremiah spoke yet again. “God bless you. I would like to do one more. This one means a lot, because it’s the second poem I have written since my incident. But it gives me hope for my future. This one is “More Than a Conqueror.” “ Jeremiah got up from the stool, leaned on the cane, and recited the poem.:

“See,

God told me

In his unfailing Word

That I was more than a conqueror.

He said that in me

Was the sound of victory

Because victory is one of His many names

So in me was the same.

I have the confidence

Undeniable assurance

Of the label “winner”

The imposed mantra of victor.

The overcomer of all

That was created for my fall

When they said die

God said, “I give you life.”

More than a conqueror

Through my Heavenly Father

The spiritual battle already won

The future fight already done.

My hands raised in the sky

All negative around decided to die

Now I stand up tall

The enemy

Momentarily

Has taken a fall.

I give my God praise

While my fist is raised

Because I can do all things

Through Christ, in His name.

He gives me strength and might

To fight the good fight

I shall rise above the faults

And know this battle wasn’t for naught.

So now erect

I scream in my determined dialect

The line each should rehearse to one’s self

Even through hard rain and a flood of mess.

More than a conqueror!

More than a conqueror!

I am…

More than a conqueror!

With each new stanza, the tone of Jeremiah’s voice become more boisterous and convincing. There was excitement that voyaged from the depths of Jeremiah’s belly to the creases of his lips.

At the ceasing of the poetic words, the crowd gave one more applause as Jeremiah exited the stage. It was the group of Jeremiah’s close friends who were the most supportive and clapped the loudest. It was one that seemed to last an eternity.

They were exuberant to have Jeremiah back where he belonged. On the stage, rhyming with reason, using the talent God had given him.

Chapter 12: Happily Ever After

Saturday, June 22nd, 2013

Serenity Baptist Church

Serenity Baptist Church was packed with friends and family. Some were dressed up, while others settled on the casual look of jeans. It was a Saturday at five o’clock in the evening. Soft music resonated throughout the large sanctuary as a convoy of people came down the center aisle. They were in male-female pairings. Even the little boy and girl walked down the aisle together, side by side.

They all took their place at the altar, men on one side and women on the other. They faced the congregation of people and stood in two perfect lines. Then out came the groom awaiting his bride to show herself. All the guys were dapper in their black tuxedos, while the women were beautiful in their bridesmaid dresses the color of Victorian lilac. The little boy and little girl had on a miniature tuxedo and a flower girl dress, respectfully.

A contemporary song played in place of the traditional bridal march. The double doors to the sanctuary opened up and in walked the bride, escorted by her mother. The bride, stunning in her pure white wedding dress, walked down the aisle, with everyone standing and captivated by her. Her dress was form fitting at the top, loose at the bottom, with princess like layers and accented with embroidered, decorative diamonds.

She made her way to the altar and stepped up on the elevated platform that constituted the pulpit with help from her husband to be. There they stood. Michelle to the right of Pastor H.M. Graves and Jeremiah to the left. There was the absence of a cane with Jeremiah. His leg had healed up within months of it being injured and he had the freedom to walk without any aid.

After an introduction to the occasion, Pastor Graves gave the green light to say their personal, written vows.

Michelle went first. “Jeremiah, from the first day I laid eyes on you in elementary school, you stole my heart. Now here we are much, much later to become husband and wife, and I did not take my heart back from you. I wanted you to keep it hoping this day would come for us. You make me smile, you make me laugh. You make me feel good about me and you love me like no one else has. I thank God for a man like you and I know within myself that you are going to be the Godly husband I need you to be. My vow to you is to love you unconditionally, pray with you, encourage you, and be the wife you need according to God’s way. I love you, Jeremiah.”

Michelle finished her vows to Jeremiah, which caused her to be in tears of joy.

Jeremiah whispered back to her that he loved her, then prepared to say his vows. He had written a poem for the occasion, because that was how he knew best to express his feelings. The title of this poem was “The Wedding Vow.” Jeremiah began allowing the words to flow from his mouth.

“Here we stand on this day

For this, I have fervently prayed.

Now I speak what my heart wants to say

Words of love I want you to take.

I’m blessed to have you stationed in my life

I’m blessed to have you become my wife.

Even through the hurt and the strife

You decided to stick by my side.

My vow to you is that I do the same

No matter what comes, I will remain.

Whatever arises, I will not stray

Sickness and health, I promise to stay.

My vow to you is to lead you as God leads me

To fulfill every bit of this love decree.

Lift you up to God when I fall to my knees

Cover you like the shade from a tree

My vow to you is to emotionally tend to your needs

To share the very spiritual air you breathe.

Speak to your mind words of encouragement and peace

No longer you and I, but “us” and “we”.

My vow to you is to love through better and worse

Exemplifying a marriage of God first.

Who you are inside I want to nurture

Beautiful woman you are, my now and my future.

My vow to you is to make this complete

As we entangle with strands of three.

With God in the center, it’s you and me

Unbreakable, we will not see defeat.

My vow to you is to be married to everything you are

From the Holy Spirit to your Southern charm

You are a living work of art

That one loves to admire up close and afar.

So let’s walk in this life hand and hand

A life adored with my lady, my best friend.

I love you Michelle,” Jeremiah tenderly said.

At the conclusion of Jeremiah’s vows, Pastor Graves directed the couple to braid the three strands together to symbolize God, husband, and wife. This was one of the most powerful moments of the ceremony.

When that was finished, there was a song that was sung by a man and a woman, both members of Serenity. They sung “Spend My Life With You” by Eric Benet and Tamia. Afterwards, Jeremiah commemorated Mrs. Emma by lighting a special candle. He looked up to the sky as though he was looking for Mrs. Emma’s face and whispered, “Thank you”. The wedding party looked as every one of them gave a smile. There was flanked to Jeremiah’s left Darius, Jeremiah’s best man for the wedding and in life. Darius had been promoted from head of research at Motions Intellect to vice president of operations. He and Erica were still going strong as a couple, but no wedding bells were in their future just yet.

Next to Darius was Jerrel, a groomsman, the young man who had come a long way. He had received his GED and was now enrolled in Nashville State Community College. Jerrel was still at Go Burgers, but this time as a manager. He moved out of Jeremiah’s house into his own apartment and even had his own car. But the most wonderful story about Jerrel was that he had been baptized in October of 2010.

Khrystal was Michelle’s maid of honor in the wedding and was standing to her right. She had taken a high school teacher’s position and was preparing for a move to Atlanta. Khrystal had promised Jeremiah and Michelle visits here and there, as long as they would return the favor. Unlike her best friend Michelle, Khrystal was single and happy about it!

The ceremony was wrapped up by the pronunciation of them now being husband and wife, a kiss shared between the loving couple, and the announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Jeremiah Washington. The two stepped down from the platform and strolled down the middle isle out the doors. The wedding party soon followed the path of the married couple.

Everyone traveled to the reception site, located in the life center attached to the church. A mixture of music was arranged by the DJ and there was no break from the crowd dancing as they enjoyed everything they could groove to! There was food galore, including a four tier wedding cake that was absolutely gorgeous.

Jeremiah and Michelle were greeted with congratulations and best wishes. One of the people to come and greet the newlyweds was Xavier, Darius’ brother, who had made the trip from D.C. to see Jeremiah get married. Even Detective Gray had attended the wedding and supported two of the people he helped find closure in their separate situations.

The Finale

Jeremiah and Michelle, husband and wife. Mrs. Emma called it and it came true.

They were about to embark upon a journey together that was well worth the wait. Two lives entangled in one and they complimented each other so well. Both had great hearts and wanted to share that with others.

Michelle had completed her degree at TSU and had taken a permanent position as marketing executive at Dexter and Bross. She had volunteered one weekend out of the month to counsel women who were victims of sexual and physical abuse. She used the ’Word of God as a tool to help these women find hope in a dim situation. Michelle had decided to write a book.

Jeremiah had moved up from accountant to head accountant at Motions Intellect. He was back working with the youth at church and enjoyed every minute of it. There were several new programs implemented and the youth ministry increased in both numbers and learning.

In February of 2011, Jeremiah testified at Elijah’s (Deacon) trial. The others were awaiting their separate trials to happen soon after. Elijah was found guilty on ‘all counts’, but was given a breath of fresh air when Jeremiah had extended himself to help Elijah get to Christ and change for the better. Elijah did just that and was now encouraging fellow inmates to do the same.

But Jeremiah decided to take things a step further in his life. He chose to volunteer his time at the local community house for an after school program teaching kids how to pen different genres of writing. What did Jeremiah teach the students the most out of any kind of writing there was? Poetry of course! But there was none better than a little spoken word!

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The LORD restored the fortunes of Job when he prayed for his friends, and the LORD increased all that Job had twofold.

–Job 42:10

Chapter 13: The Hereafter

Tuesday, March 8th, 2011

Davidson County Correctional Facility

A voice from the near distance called out. “Mr. Harrison, you have a visitor.”

The cell that housed Elijah Harrison was opened by the correctional officer. The handcuffed man formerly known as Deacon was escorted to the visitors area. Unsure of who this visitor could be, Elijah pondered in his mind the possibilities. He thought maybe it was Jeremiah there to pay him another visit.

When Elijah had finally arrived at the specified area, he took a seat across the table from the visitor with an astonished look on his face. The officer removed his handcuffs and Elijah placed his hands on the table.

“I’m very disappointed in you, Mr. Harrison.” The intimidating, brash, southern voice came from an imposing figure in the opposite seat. “You made a bad mistake trying to rob my home. Never bite the hand that feeds you.”

The imposing figure was Mr. Ronald C. Burgess, president of IBA. He was clad in a dark navy suit and light blue tie. Designer glasses covered his eyes and expensive jewelry decorated his fingers and wrist.

“Why are you here?” asked Elijah.

“Elijah, the first thing you should know is that I ask the questions. You just listen and answer when I tell you to answer,” said Mr. Burgess in a stern, matter of fact voice. He continued, “Again, the first mistake you made was you trying to take from my home. But I’m going to forgive you on that. The second mistake was you letting that no good Jeremiah get away. I told you that if he ever stabbed you in the back that you take him out. He has been nothing but a headache to me.”

“And just how is that?” asked Elijah. “He has actually been a help to me over the past couple of months.”

“A help?? Your sworn enemy a help? You are crazier than I thought,” laughed Mr. Burgess. “See, I allowed you to have that no good Jeremiah in your clique. He was desperate and you needed the extra help. So I gave in and gave you permission to accept him.”

“And I should have never invited him in. There are just a lot of things I should have never done. But I done them and I don’t need any more trouble in my life. So you can dismiss yourself Mr. Burgess.”

“No, you’re going to let me finish. The set up was for Jeremiah to deal the drugs to me so I could see if he was worthy enough to even be a part of my team. You know, to see just how much bad he had in him, being Mr. Clean and everything. And I was going to give the drugs right back to you to deal to the regular customers. But guess where the plan failed?”

“Worthy enough? You fired the dude from his job at IBA. But then you talk about worth enough? What did he do so wrong to get him fired anyway?”

“Really, Elijah, that’s none of your business. You failed the plan, plain and simple. So guess what? I’m going to get you out of here. Give me a few days to work it out and then you will be a free man. Well, sort of… You are going to go back to work for me. And the first thing you will do is take out Jeremiah.”

“See, I can’t do that and I won’t do it. Jeremiah has helped me to see that I don’t need you or this life no more. I got something better now. I got God and with Him, my life is turning around.”

“Please don’t tell me you just said ‘God.’ Please don’t tell me that. Are you serious?” Mr. Burgess raised his voice enough that everyone else gazed at him and he slammed his hand on the table. “I AM your God!! I created you to be who you are!! I supplied everything that you needed and wanted. I was good to you Elijah!”

“I told you, I don’t want to do it.” Elijah wondered why no one would come and escort Mr. Burgess out for being loud and threatening.

“See, Elijah, I could hurt you right here and right now. And there would be nothing that nobody can do about it in here. You forgot, I got all power. I run this city. No….I own this city.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, that I got God now! Nothing you say or nothing you do is going to scare me. You just don’t intimidate me anymore, Mr. Burgess. I don’t need you or your filth. Now will you please get out of my face and go!”

“Not so fast!” retorted Mr. Burgess. “I still have five minutes. Let me ask you: What happened to the same mean person that done Jeremiah’s grandmother dirty? Huh? Where is he at? Where is Deacon? You have gotten very soft on me and I don’t like it.”

“He left,” Elijah responded. “You might think you own the city, but you sure don’t own me. I make my own decisions. And whether or not you like who I am becoming, that’s your problem.”

“Well, get him back. Because you’re going to be back on the streets in a week. I guarantee it. And if you know what’s best, you’ll do as I say. Because from the day you stepped in my presence, I owned you.”

At that time, Mr. Burgess had thrown an old picture on the table. It was of Elijah and his twin, Elson. He continued his pressuring towards Elijah. “See Deacon, if you decide to turn your back on me, I will find this brother of yours that you haven’t seen in years and I will hurt him first. Then I’m coming after you. But for right now, Jeremiah is on the top of my list. And I think I know just how to get to him.”

“Where did you get that picture?”

“Never mind where I got the picture. Why do you keep insisting on asking me questions, when you know good and well, I won’t answer them. Remember, you answer to me, not the other way around.”

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on my brother or Jeremiah or anybody else, or I will…,” said Elijah in a bold and angry way.

“Or you will what? You can’t do anything about it. Need I remind you of what I just told you? So just know that it is done. I will depart from you for now, but you will see me again.”

Mr. Burgess excused himself from the table and made his way to do the door for the guard to allow him to exit. He snatched the picture back up and had a devilish grin on his face as he looked back at Elijah. He then ripped the photo into two pieces and threw it in the trash can.

The correctional officer handcuffed Elijah, helped him up from his seat and escorted him back to his cell. Elijah was clearly angry at what had just transpired between him and his former street boss.

Confused about what to do, Elijah tried to think on a remedy to the problem that was Mr. Burgess. As he lied on the hard bed in his cell, Elijah thought about what he could possibly do from the inside in order to save his brother. And at the same time, he gave thought to a solution to spare Jeremiah’s life, his new found friend.

“What do I do now?” Elijah wondered to himself. Who could he turn to? It seemed as though Mr. Burgess had the city of Nashville under his thumb.

At that time, he clinched his two hands together tightly to the point of his fingers turning red. He decided that this was a good time to pray for direction.

He then pulled down a book from the shelf above his bed. It was entitled “Sunrise” and it was a collection of inspirational poems from various writers. Some famous and some not as famous. But Elijah turned to one of his favorites in the book. It was “Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou:

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling down like teardrops.

Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?

Don’t you take it awful hard

’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines

Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?

Does it come as a surprise

That I dance like I’ve got diamonds

At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame

I rise

Up from a past that’s rooted in pain

I rise

I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear

I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise.

Elijah held that poem close to him as it gave him inspiration from day to day. He made a note in his heart that his former decisions would not hinder him from who he could become. Elijah had hoped for that same inspiration this time around.

Elijah closed the book and put it up as he was stretched across the bed wide eyed. There was no way that he could sleep with all of this on his mind. His mind so cluttered, that any dreams that came to him would be that of Elson, Jeremiah, and Mr. Burgess.

Elijah was at a loss. But when the decisiveness of who Elijah could turn to would finally come into play, it will be speak now or forever hold your peace…

Chapter 14: And what-ifs that hang in the spaces of our minds.

There are always thoughts that linger in suspended time

And what-ifs that hang in the spaces of our minds.

Silence can leave some broken,

That is, until words that give life are (spō’kən).

Will time speak positive or negative, wrong or right?

Now we must question what happens next as we fade to black…