12. Jaxson
12
Jaxson
F or what feels like the millionth time since Saturday, I find myself fiddling with the period cup I kept as a souvenir from my encounter with Lauressa. It smells like her cunt and makes me wish I had whisked her away so I could taste and smell her cunt more up close and personal. But that’s only wistful thinking. I’ve already been too hasty with her as it is.
Saturday was just supposed to be me showing up. It was supposed to be just me establishing that I knew who she was. To get an up-close and personal look at who she was connected to. I definitely did that, but I wasn’t supposed to touch her yet. Not the way I did. Just… somehow, years of consistent and strict disciplinary training, mental conditioning, and self-fortitude suddenly meant nothing in the face of her hostility and rebellion.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise. I accounted for it in my plans when I went after her. Every time you go after a particularly stubborn potential convert, there’s hostility. There’s resistance. There’s rebellion. The idea is to wear them down until they get to the point where they’re grateful for the harassment because they’re better off for it, whether that’s tangibly true or not.
Lauressa will be better off after I’m done with her. She’ll thank me for everything I’m doing and will do to her in the end. But I was too overzealous and underestimated how frustrating I’d find her resistance, futile as it will be in the end.
Now, any ground in gaining her curiosity that I might have accomplished Saturday has probably been eroded because I showed my colors too soon.
I take in the scent of the period cup once again.
There’s no use dwelling in regret about it now. The only thing to do is move forward and adjust. I did make some accomplishments Saturday, after all. So my overzealousness didn’t prevent all progress.
I sigh and put the period cup away. As much as I could sit here and enjoy what remains of the smell of Lauressa on it, other things need my attention. Things like meeting with the Bishop and Deacon Board of Loving Eden Church under the pretense of wanting to make a trans-religious alliance for the benefit of the community and people we’re all supposedly trying to “save.” The real reason that I want to talk to them is that it’s the church that Lauressa grew up in and, for reasons unknown for now, she left at seventeen.
Whatever the reason is, it was big enough to start her secret obsession with and crusade against cults and high-demand religions. Understanding what and why that was is key to getting her to join the Sovereignty with me. And the only way to understand what and why is to go to the source.
“Pastor Devine,” Bishop Mavis says, grabbing my hand.
“Minister,” I correct. Priest, actually. But that’s a Sovereignty term and only used when we control the turf. When trying to make friends and integrate with other religious communities, we use more familiar terms.
“Minister,” Bishop Mavis corrects. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Come on. Let’s get out of this cold weather.”
I chuckle. “I’m from Chicago, Bishop. This is a warm sunny day, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Well, do it for the sake of this old Southerner,” the Bishop says as he guides us into the old church.
Technically, it’s a megachurch, having an average weekly attendance of two thousand people with many more members who don’t come out regularly. But the building is nowhere near as ostentatious and opulent as most modern megachurches or the Sovereignty headquarters altar in Chicago. It’s just a very large, very old brick church on a somewhat secluded and large expanse of land. Though, it’s clearly gone through renovations over the years to modernize it some if the new windows and newly paved parking lot are anything to go by.
Bishop Mavis leads me to the conference hall where the deacon board awaits. Then he takes me around the room to introduce me to everyone. Of course, I already know who they all are. I did extensive research on everyone on this board days ago, and the only ones I’m interested in are Youth Deacon David and Vice Bishop Jacob. Lauressa’s older brother and father respectively.
We sit down, and they begin to discuss the city and the ills plaguing it. Or, at least, what they think are the ills plaguing it. It’s just as bad as sitting with my father and his priests during one of their long and usually unproductive weekly priests meetings. But it’s unfortunately necessary. So I sit and nod my head along like I’m listening when really my thoughts are anywhere but here. Every now and then, Lauressa’s brother and father speak, but I glean nothing from it.
Finally, Bishop Mavis looks directly at me and says, “So, what do you think, son?”
“I’ve only been in the city for a few weeks,” I admit. “But based on what you’ve said, this area needs all the help that it can get. I’m sure with the resources the Sovereignty can offer, we’ll finally be able to turn this city around and return people to good, wholesome morals for living.”
Just saying that last sentence makes me feel like I need to wash my mouth out with soap.
“Well, it looks like you’re just the kind of young man this city needs. So many of those young ones come through here, and they’re all about that new age stuff that goes directly against what God says,” Bishop Mavis says with a long-suffering sigh.
The sex club the Bishop frequently visits “goes directly against what God says” too, but he’s not talking about that. He probably thinks he’s ascended to a higher level of law and discipline because he mastered the lower levels like my father says he has. And to think they wonder why they can’t get “new blood” in the doors, as they were lamenting earlier.
“Well, before we agree to anything, I’ve got one more question about the Sovereignty,” Lauressa’s father, Vice Bishop Jacob, says.
“And what’s that?” I ask .
“Do you all believe that Jesus Christ is our lord, savior, and messiah?”
“Of course, I do,” I say without hesitation. The Sovereignty believes it anyway. And not the way most Christians do. The Sovereignty says he wasn’t a prophet of Christianity but the first Oracle of the Sovereignty. But I’m not supposed to tell outsiders that for optical purposes.
“Then that’s all the resources any of us need, and the rest will fall into place,” Jacob says with a laugh. “I look forward to working with you.”
Finally, the meeting is adjourned with the promise to send the meeting notes and any plans over to my administrative staff. I waste no time walking right up to Jacob and David.
“It was good to meet you,” Jacob says, seeing me approach.
“Likewise, Vice Bishop,” I say.
Jacob laughs. “None of that formal stuff. You’re amongst friends, son.”
“Of course, Jacob. I’m sorry if I’m being too forward, but do you know a Lauressa? Because she looks just like you. It was like seeing a female version of you.”
“Black hair with purple streaks?” Jacob asks, and then looks at David. “It’s still purple, ain’t it? She didn’t go back to red?”
David sighs and says with a roll of his eyes, “Still purple.”
“That’s exactly her,” I say.
“Yes. That’s our Res,” Jacob says. “I assure you, whatever foolishness she’s gotten herself involved in now is not a reflection of how her mother and I raised her. I raised a good Christian girl, not whatever alphabet mafia she’s associating herself with nowadays.”
I make a noncommittal noise toward his statement, though really this is exactly the kind of information I was looking for. It’s not much. But the derisive tone concerning things Lauressa cares about confirms what I already knew about her relationship with them.
“I assure you, I would never make that mistake,” I respond dryly. Jacob takes it as the insult to Lauressa that it’s actually meant to be for him.
“How do you know her?” David asks.
“The Sovereignty helped with the outreach event Saturday. I helped pass out coats with her.”
“I didn’t see you there,” David says. “My sister stayed far away from me as usual.”
“Now why would she do that?”
David laughs. “Because she’s a little rebellious loudmouthed bitch. Good luck if you plan to keep working with her and One Humanity. She’s a nightmare.”
“Really? Our interactions have only been pleasant and cooperative so far,” I say. They haven’t. They’ve been pleasant. But they’ve been far from cooperative.
“Huh,” Jacob says with an appraising look. “Perhaps my daughter has met her match. You know what they say. All it takes is a woman meeting the right man.”
I don’t laugh with Jacob or David, but neither seem to notice. I can see exactly why Lauressa keeps her distance from them .
Still, there’s more to this story. But there will be time enough to find out over the next few months. Like all religious communities, they’re gluttons for gossip and spreading the word of people’s misfortune and misdeeds. Someone who isn’t her family will eventually find out I know Lauressa and tell me what I want to know under the pretense of making sure I know what I’m getting into. But until then it’s a waiting game unless I can get something out of Lauressa, which I doubt after Saturday.
Still, it’s Thursday evening. Lauressa should be home from work now. Since she knows I’m in the city, there’s no sense in leaving my observations solely to monitors in my house. We could have dinner together.
I walk to the parking lot from the back entrance with David and Jacob, taking a shortcut along the side of the property on the grass instead of going down the stairs and taking the concrete path around. That’s unfortunate for the person tampering with the air conditioning unit.
“Hey!” David shouts.
The person, clearly a child, makes the mistake of looking back with wide eyes before trying to run off, which gives David time to catch them before they can take a step.
“Let me go!” the kid says. A familiar kid with short curly dark hair, tapered on the side, and wearing a familiar coat.
“You’re not going anywhere, young lady!”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not a lady!” J shouts, glaring up at David. I’m sure J means to look threatening, but even with cheeks thinned from not getting consistent meals, it looks more adorably amusing than anything.
“Is that Janet Wright?” Jacob asks. “Darryl’s girl?”
“It’s J,” J grumbles under his breath.
“Your father’s been looking for you,” Jacob says.
“I’m sure,” J says with a roll of his eyes.
“You’re coming with me,” David says. “I’m sure your father would love to hear the explanation for where you’ve been as much as I do.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you, you creep,” J says, stomping on David’s foot.
David’s grip loosens as he curses, but not enough for J to get away.
J isn’t my problem. So I have every reason to keep walking and let him figure out how to get out David's grasp. He was smart enough to get away once. He can do it again. Lucky for him, he knows Lauressa, and she clearly looks out for him on a regular enough basis. So it’ll be worth making him my problem to the end of learning more about Lauressa and invading her life.
“I’m sure you have better things to do. I’ll take them to their father. I pass right by his house and job on the way home,” I interrupt.
“You know Darryl Wright?” Jacob asks. He scoffs at himself. “Of course. You would have contacted anyone who was anyone trying to get a foothold in the city.”
“I’m not going with him either,” J snaps, glaring at me.
I fight a smile.
“It’s either me or David,” I say sternly.
J thinks about that all of a second before snapping, “Fine! ”
David lets J go, and he jerks his arm away. If he had thoughts of running off, my security forces him to reconsider as they flank him and lead him to my car.
J is forced to slide in first, and then I slide in behind him. As soon as the car starts to move, J tries to open the door but is stopped by the child lock.
“Fuck you!” J snaps.
“What did I tell you about cursing?” I ask.
“I might have cared before you kidnapped me.”
“You would have rather gone back with David and waited on your dad?”
“Hell no!” J says, sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms. “Dad’s an asshole. David is a creep. All those church fuckers are.”
“Good thing I’m not a church fucker.”
“And yet you were hanging around them. You know what they say about birds of a feather.”
I find myself resisting a laugh again. Instead I ask, “How old are you, J?”
J just glares at me, but I let him take his time.
Finally, he answers, “Twelve. Almost thirteen.”
“Tell you what, I’ll take you wherever you want for dinner, and I can explain to you why I’m hanging around those church fuckers.”
“And what do you want in return?”
“Nothing,” I assure.
“Nobody gives something for nothing,” J points out.
J is right. I’m not giving him something for nothing. But he clearly knows Lauressa, has had interactions with David, and has valuable information about them both. Valuable information he’ll give away so long as he thinks it’s not valuable to me.
“Maybe. But you don’t have a lot of choices here, do you?” I ask.
“I’ll scream as soon as you take me out the car,” he threatens.
“To attract attention and risk someone calling the authorities, who will put you back with your father?”
J weighs the consequences of going back with his father against cooperating with me.
“Fine,” he finally grumbles. “But I want steak and fries.”
“Done.”
“And ice cream.”
“Also, done.”