41
KING
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Tossing and turning.
That’s all I’ve been doing for the last hour and a half since I settled into bed.
Leaving Erica’s apartment earlier was… hard for me to do. It didn’t feel good leaving her like that. She was upset.
The truth is, I am too.
Conflict floods my soul when conviction should.
This entire evening I’ve tried and fought so hard to keep my hands from touching myself.
Shame washes over me when I remember how we almost had sex. Had she not stopped me, I would have gone all the way. Because all I wanted in that moment was to be inside of her.
All I wanted was her.
All I want is her.
It’s just flesh.
Right, Lord?
I’m just being tested. You sent her here to test me. But why is this test so difficult?
Why her?
I want her when I should want You.
Reading my Bible was almost impossible. When I got home and tried, my mind kept wandering off the words on the page and back into Erica’s bedroom with me on top of her.
Growling, I roll over onto my left side, pick up my pillow, and press it over my head, trying to drown out my thoughts.
“Almighty Father, please help me. Free me from these sinful thoughts in the name of Jesus. Please help me. Restore my heart so that it beats only for You. I need Your help, Holy Spirit, please. In the name of Jesus, please,” I beg.
I must have fallen asleep, because the next time I open my eyes it’s Friday morning. There’s a ping on my phone. When I look, I see Sister Aaliyah’s name. I don’t answer it. There’s nothing in my heart that gets excited seeing her name. As a matter of fact, all I want to do is avoid her.
She left me a choice and I gave her my answer.
It was no.
But this time it wasn’t just because of God. I just didn’t… want to.
For me.
It’s very hard to explain. I don’t even think I thoroughly understand my decision, and there might come a time where I’ll regret it. But not right now. Especially when I'm battling with my spirit.
Getting up, I receive another call.
“Hello?” I answer groggily.
“Hey King. It’s Zosha. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
Now this surprises me. Zosha isn’t someone who calls me like this, so it must be important.
“It’s not a problem,” I answer as I walk around my apartment brushing my teeth, then relieve myself in the toilet, wash my hands, and continue walking around with the phone on speaker.
“Sorry for bothering you so early,” she says. “But do you have some time tomorrow to go look at something with me? It’s a property I’m thinking about.”
“Yeah, I can probably make time. What’s it for?”
“It might be a little shop,” she explains, “but it’s going to take some work.”
“I don’t know, maybe like what were you thinking of? Like selling baking goods or something?” I ask.
“Yeah, something like that,” she replies.
“I can’t do the Unicorn Cafe site anymore because the building doesn’t belong to me and my family anymore.
But I think I can start with this little one, hire some people to run it.
I’ll need to borrow some money, but maybe I can get it off the ground with something small. It’s very cheap.”
“What's cheap?” I ask.
“$50,000,” she answers.
That is cheap. Extremely cheap. Needless to say I'm a bit curious. More than just her plans for the building, but the state of it.
“What time would you want me to come look at it?” I ask.
“In the afternoon, maybe around 12:30 p.m.,” she says.
“Okay,” I agree.
The next day, on a light Saturday afternoon, Zosha and I stand in front of the building.
When she said it needed a little work, I didn’t think it looked like this .
Frankly, the building looks like it went through hell and back.
Part of it looks like it was set on fire. The brick and mortar exterior is covered in soot and scorch marks. What’s supposed to be white or beige underneath is hard to tell now, it’s all stained and discolored. The windows are boarded up on one side, and the roofline sags in places.
She looks at me with a seemingly apologetic smile. “You want to go inside?”
“The way this building looks, I’m not even sure it’s safe enough for that,” I admit.
Walking around to the back to check the structure as she trails me, I run my hand along the walls, test the foundation, and look for cracks or water damage.
I start pointing things out. “Foundation looks uneven here. These bricks are loose. There’s water staining along the base… probably from the fire hoses.”
We both take a step back assessing the roof of the single-story place. “Roof has missing shingles and possible rot. Electrical box out here is rusted shut,” I inform her as she grimaces at everything I say.
We finally go inside. The moment we step in, rats scatter from one side of the room to the other. Thick cobwebs hang from the ceiling, and several beams are cracked or broken. The floor is warped in spots, and the air smells like smoke and mold.
Putting my hands in my pockets, I ask her, “You want the honest truth?”
She smiles. “Yes.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I begin.
“The building itself is $50,000. And for good reason, because on top of that, fixing it up is going to run you another 70 to 90,000 if you hire a crew. That covers structural repairs, new electrical and plumbing, fire damage cleanup, and basic finishes. And that’s not counting permits, insurance, or any surprises once we open the walls.
It’s also going to take time . We’re probably looking at…
three to four months minimum before you could open anything in here. ”
“It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity,” Zosha shrugs her shoulders innocently.
“Yeah, well there’s a reason nobody was taking it,” I mutter.
“I feel like this could be it. But that’s why I also asked you here. Because I was wondering if… you would want to work on it with me. You and Angelo. And I would pay you.”
Letting out a nervous laugh, I wonder if she’s serious.
“It’s a small building. I’m not looking for any extensions, just to fix it up. You and Angelo did such a great job with the extension at the Unicorn Cafe.”
I take a breath.
Why is she asking me to do this?
It’s probably because Zosha knows me. She's probably afraid someone else is going to take advantage of her in this regard.
She continues, “You make people’s dreams come true and you help people. And I need your help.”
“What would it cost and how much time would you be willing to put in?” she asks.
“I’m not even sure if Angelo would do this because we’re between jobs right now. And since I’m not working for the Youth Camp anymore because I’m here, I was planning on going back to Dobbs anyway.” I tell her.
“Just work for me. We can make it work.” Zosha says.
Trying to be real with her, I explain, “This kind of job is a two-man job or more. There are certain things I would have to do that I would need someone of equal strength or more to help me with.”
She replies, “Yeah, that’s why I was talking about Angelo. And if they can’t spare him, maybe we can find someone local.”
Pausing, I ask her, “Can I pray about it?”
“Yes. Let me take you to lunch,” she offers.
We sit inside Shameese, a little pizza place with some vegetable dishes that don't even taste like vegetable dishes. It's pretty nice in here with its simple tables and decent lighting.
It's not a fancy place but it's nice and comfortable and the people are decent.
Zosha asks me, “Are you ever coming back to work up at Raven's Hollow?”
“I don't know, but honestly I'm glad to be back.”
My phone buzzes.
Yvonne: What time you coming over today.
I smile and text her back.
Me: Out with a friend. Probably 7:00 pm.
Zosha asks me, “Hey, that girl at church that you say you’re only friends with, do you still hang out?”
“We don’t really hang out like that.”
“But you’re friends, right?”
“Yeah. But that’s all we are,” I reply.
“So? You and I are friends. Erica and I are friends.”
“And you don't hang out with Erica all the time, do you?” I answer driving my point home.
“Fair. By the way, there’s no pressure about the construction project,” Zosha tells me. “I wouldn’t expect you to do all of the heavy lifting, of course. Just the fixing up, the interior, and the structural things that are easier to handle.”
I smile at her. “Don’t insult me. I’m not afraid of hard work, and I wouldn’t have you lifting either. You know that.”
She smiles back. “I know, but I know it’s very daunting for one person. I wasn’t asking you to do all of that. It’s just that I have no experience with this at all.”
“What’s going on with your mom?” I question. “Does your mom know you’re doing this?”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “My mom’s not on board with it. She’s happy just working at her friend’s restaurant.”
“Would you stop working at the Youth Camp if that were the case?” I ask. “Like, how are you going to balance between fixing up this place and the Youth Camp?”
“It would be on the weekends and then maybe in the evenings when I commute. I would still need to work the Youth Camp to get money and stuff. I’m not going to just leave them high and dry.”
Nodding, I hesitate for a moment.
“Have you asked Erica about it?”
“I haven't. I specifically asked you because you're into construction. No offense and I love Erica but Erica is a distraction.”
“Yes, she tends to be. A good one sometimes,” I tell her with a nervous smile.
Catching myself after saying that, I notice Zosha raise her eyebrows a bit.
“N-No, I mean like she can be a f-fun diver- never mind. You got what I'm trying to say.”
Zosha sips her iced tea. “Yes.” Then she says, “We'll work out everything if you choose to agree and if not no pressure. I can try to find someone else.”
Later on, after I leave Yvonne's house, I feel tired. While I'm driving my truck up Magnolia Avenue from her house and making a right onto Main Street, I pass by Erica's apartment building. I pull over to the right curb and look across the street at her building.
The building looks lonely. It symbolizes her.
I… really wish I could see her.
I shouldn't be here but… it would be nice… to… just see her.
Taking out my phone, I look at her contact. My thumb hovers over the button to call her. Looking at it for a good while, I feel that pull; knowing I shouldn't but wanting to anyway. Finally, flipping out of the app, I put down my phone and continue driving to my house.