20
KING
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Sunday service worship is alive with people praising God, hands raised, voices loud. Tearing up the drums, I keep the beat steady, hitting the snares and toms in rhythm with the songs.
Aaliyah smiles back at me from her spot in front of the stage while I play. My brain goes on autopilot as my hands move across the kit.
Erica is beautiful when she climaxes. I made her do that.
My four fingers rubbing her hot, sweet, soft vagina.
My three fingers diving inside her. So wet.
Why can’t I stop thinking about her?
Her arms around me.
How she feels when she hugs me.
Her smile.
Her eyes.
Her moaning… music to my ears.
Usually I’d be in the spirit right now, crying and giving every ounce of my soul to God with everyone else… but not today.
Erica’s at home resting because I told her not to come to church. She can’t because she’s sick.
Is her neighbor over there?
Is he over there taking advantage of her?
He was there when I came over before. What if he’s there right now?
I’m not stupid. She implied that something might have happened between them.
So she would let it happen again.
She did that with me. Who’s to say she didn’t do it with him?
What if he’s doing the same things to her that I did?
After worship ends, the sermon feels so long.
It’s agony.
The pastor finally gives the farewell prayer, sending us off to tackle the week ahead. Before anyone can stop me, I tuck my Bible under my arm and quickly try to squeeze through one of the side exits.
“Brother King,” Sister Paula’s voice calls me back.
Oh no.
Not now.
The antsy feeling racing through my body gets compounded.
While Sister Paula talks to me about some things concerning Bible study, a text comes in on my phone.
Yvonne.
“Hold on, Sister Paula,” I tell her respectfully as I start typing back to Yvonne, letting her know I’ll stop by after church.
Now that I’m standing here talking to Sister Paula, I’m thinking maybe this is the time to come clean. Not about everything, but… I have to get out of the Bible study thing.
Erica might not come to Bible study. She might be better by then, but what if she chooses not to go and stays home, and then her neighbor goes back over there?
I sit back in the chair on the other side of Sister Paula’s desk and take a deep breath. “Sister Paula, to be honest, I’m glad that we’re speaking because… I don’t think I’m prepared enough to teach Bible study.”
“Whatever it is you have, it would be appreciated. You always sell yourself short, Brother King. It’s admirable being humble, but it’s also admirable knowing your strengths and being proud of them and knowing that God gave them to you,” she replies with a smile.
She stands from her seat, pats me on the shoulder as we start walking out of her office. “Just take Monday off. You’ll be fine. You can just leave for the Youth Camp on Wednesday,” she tells me with that warm smile, the one I know means she’s depending on me.
I can’t leave her high and dry.
I head to Yvonne’s. After I spend some time over there, I make haste to go back to Erica’s apartment building.
As I’m driving, I have this strong urge to slow down because someone is following me. In the rearview mirror, I see a light blue car. I pull my truck over to let it pass, which it does… slowly.
Taking another road to loop back around to Erica’s apartment so I can check on her, I bound up the stairs and knock on her door. My heart soars when I hear her coming to open it.
When she opens the door, the first thing I do is look around her apartment with my eyes, studying the space to see if anyone else is there.
“King,” she says, almost in surprise.
It feels so good when she says my name.
“Oh King. You feel… so good.” The memory of her moaning my name flashes across my brain. My penis starts waking up.
I can’t let this happen again.
“Come here,” I tell her as I take both of her hands. We go over near the couch. I pull her into a kneeling position, put my hand on her forehead, and pray over her, asking God’s mercy over her, asking God to forgive both of us.
After I’m done, I fix her something to eat.
“King, you don’t have to,” she says, sounding sweet and innocent.
“Just go relax,” I instruct her.
After I make sure she eats and has taken her medication, she smiles at me as I tell her goodbye. My arms ache to hold her. I know that’s just my flesh trying to deceive me.
“Seriously, go get some sleep,” I tell her pointedly as I step outside her apartment door.
“I will.”
“Like right now,” I tell her.
“But… I don’t think I’m that tired,” she says.
“Yes you are. Your body is tired and you need rest. You didn’t take a nap today, did you?” I ask.
“No,” she replies, and I can see it in her face that she’s still a little weak.
“Okay then, go get some rest. You don’t have to sleep, but at least lie down, relax. Try at least to take a nap,” I encourage her. My heart does its little dance when she smiles softly and nods.
I feel better now that I know she’s eaten something and that she’s alone in the apartment. I hope it stays that way. That’s part of the reason why I told her to go to sleep. She shouldn’t be wasting her energy entertaining people she shouldn’t be having over at her place.
Feeling the joy in my spirit, I hold my head high. I didn’t realize I was smiling until I noticed something to my left, just standing at the curb.
I freeze and flinch for a second.
Sister Madysen is standing there, practically in front of Erica’s building.
Why is she here?!
“Brother King. I thought that was you,” she says with a big smile.
That’s why I felt uneasy. That light blue car that was following me, that’s hers. The other car that she and Shawn have, the one she hardly ever drives because they usually take the van.
My heart is pounding for an all-new reason. “Why are you following me?” I ask her, aware of how accusatory it sounds.
“You seem antsy. I thought you were in some kind of trouble,” she replies.
Then she looks behind me, seemingly scrutinizing the front of the building.
“Did you visit a friend?” she questions before looking at me again with that…
weird smile. The one I’m beginning to notice has many different facets to it.
Just because someone is smiling doesn’t mean they’re happy or they mean well.
Hyenas smile.
Chimpanzees smile before they bite your face off.
The way she asks tells me that she probably already knows.
“Sister Erica lives in that building,” I admit, trying to display confidence. Sister Madysen just stares at me. “She wasn’t feeling well, so I was dropping her off some stuff,” I elaborate.
“Oh. Well…” she starts, looking at the curb, then at my shoes, then slowly back up at me. She takes one step forward, hands behind her back. “I actually was waiting for you to come down after you went up there. You were up there a long time.”
I don’t like her tone.
So what if I was? I really want to tell her that. What business is it of hers?
“She’s very sick,” I tell her flatly, hoping she’ll get the picture that she should probably stop being so nosy.
Even as I think this, I know she has every right to be.
That’s what kingdom living is all about, holding each other accountable.
But this just doesn’t sit right with me.
Following me all the way here. She could have addressed me with this at any other time.
And just about every other instance involving Erica and Sister Madysen rubs me the wrong way.
“Brother King, you shouldn’t be there with an unmarried woman while you’re also not married,” she lectures.
My anger is simmering, and it’s partly because I feel cornered. I’m scared. If I get all defensive, it’s going to look weird.
So I go with the safest route.
“You’re right, Sister Madysen. But she has no one looking out for her.”
“The sisters of the church can,” she answers.
“It’s fine. Her other friend will be back soon anyway,” I tell her.
Sister Madysen looks at me with a strange expression, one that almost seems like concern. “Brother King.”
“Hmm?”
“If you’re in some kind of trouble, just let me know,” she offers.
“There’s no trouble. I assure you. But I really do appreciate you looking out for me. It feels good knowing that people care about me and that you’re holding me accountable,” I lie.
Yes, it’s a lie.
At some point not that long ago, I would have appreciated this scrutiny. But now… it just feels very invasive.
Sister Madysen smiles at me and nods.
“Okay, Brother King. It’s good to see you. I hope Erica feels better,” she says. Then she walks to the other side of the street to her car.
It doesn’t escape my notice that she doesn’t take off until she sees me pulling out of the parking lot with my truck.