The Retreat. Dijorn Moss
“Oh, so you’re trying to shoot?” Jamal asked.
“No, I’m not trying to clown you. I’m just saying that I hardly see you leave when the sun is still out.”
“Have a good evening.” Jamal turned away from Christal and headed toward the door.
From the elevator, Jamal made his way to the parking lot. Jamal opened his car door and tossed his messenger bag in the passenger seat. He put the key in the ignition and tried to start the car. The engine sounded like a record being scratched.
“Come on, don’t do this now. Please, God!” Jamal pleaded.
Jamal tried to turn his car on several more times, but he could not get the engine to start. He assumed that the battery had died and he would need a jump. For now, the most important results in his life were on hold.
Chauncey knew he was not supposed to find pleasure in his brother Henry’s death. Well, technically, his brother was not dead yet.
But the air was thick with the putrid smell of Henry’s frail body as Chauncey pushed open the hospital room door. Chauncey had forewarned his brother that the path he chose in life would eventually lead to destruction. Henry did not heed his older brother’s advice, and indulged in sex and drugs until he alienated everything and everyone around him; all except for sin.
Now Chauncey stood over his brother a proud champion of the faith, with no trace of the fear he’d displayed in the park. Whenever Chauncey would visit his brother, he would bring his blue leather-bound King James Version Bible. This was the Bible out of which he had prophesized to Henry numerous times that the wage of sin was death. With only a thin layer of auburn skin over Henry’s bones, it was clear that sin would complete its work.
Chauncey finally acknowledged his baby sister, Nicole, sitting across the hospital bed from him. The darkest one of the siblings, Nicole’s mocha complexion made her the desire of all the boys in Chauncey’s neighborhood. She did, however, have the signature McClendon lips, which seemed to be permanently in pout mode. At this moment, the pout almost seemed like a grimace. Chauncey turned his back to his brother. The Bible was so thick that it required him to hold it with both hands. He held the Bible midway toward his chest.
“I’m having trouble keeping food down. All I feel is pain all the time,” Henry said before he swallowed hard.
“That’s because you don’t know that by His stripes you are healed,” Chauncey said.
“Chauncey,” Nicole pleaded from the other side of the bed. She shook her head as a sign for Chauncey not to get on his soapbox. Chauncey did not know how long he could stay in this room without being able to speak his mind.
“The doctors ain’t saying nothing either, and when that happens that’s not good. I’m having visions that in the end I’m alone in this hospital bed with the cancer and my demons,” Henry said, trying to hold back tears.
Nicole got up and rubbed her frail brother’s bald head, bending to give him some water in a beige cup with a straw. Chauncey could see Henry’s throat take in the water.
“They aren’t the ones who have the final say. God is the author and finisher of your faith,” Nicole said with a forced smile that highlighted her full ruby lips.
“Nicole, don’t give him no half-truths. God is the author and the finisher of his faith. But you have to have faith first.” Chauncey’s eyebrows arched.
Nicole used her dark brown eyes to cut into Chauncey’s chest. His little sister had a mean side, but this was about souls. For the sake of the Gospel, he could not be moved on what was the truth.
“Chauncey, could I talk to you outside for a moment?” Nicole stood up and headed toward the door.
Chauncey extended his hand like an usher and followed her outside.
“Would it kill you to come down from your mountaintop and show your brother a little compassion?” Nicole asked.
“What do you want me to do, lie to him? You and I both know that if he ain’t saved, then none of the Bible’s promises apply to him.”
“You’re not God, so you can’t judge him. God sees his heart and Henry knows better,” Nicole said.
“You Baptists are nuttier than fruitcakes. I don’t know what they teach at your church, but at my church we teach that unless you are born again, you will not see the kingdom of heaven.”
Nicole put both of her hands up in a choking motion and grunted in disgust. “You act so high and mighty!”
“High? He stole from both of us to get high! You act like he didn’t steal from you or mess up your credit. I can’t get a Macy’s credit card because my brother got high. All I ever wanted from him was for him to get his life straight with the Lord. Even now, in the midst of his sin and illness, he lies up there unrepentant and wanting someone to pity him,” Chauncey said with frustration.
“Those things we can get back. We have one brother and right now he’s scared, and we’re the only family he’s got.” Nicole pointed toward Henry’s room.
“I’ve sat in AA meetings and therapy sessions just to hear my brother use me as a scapegoat for why he couldn’t get clean. I’m tired of it and I don’t have time.” Chauncey looked at his watch.
“Where you got to go now?” Nicole asked.
“The Men’s Retreat is Thursday; I got a couple of things before then to take care of.”
Nicole let out a sarcastic laugh, and with her hands on her hips, she started to tap her black leather flats on the hospital’s mint checkered floor.
“Are you serious? It’s Monday, bighead! You have all week. What’s more important? Being a good deacon or being there for your brother when he needs you the most?” Nicole asked.
Chauncey did not even bother to dignify Nicole’s question with an answer. He brushed by her and went back into the room. Henry’s eyes were full with tears, and Chauncey was certain that he had caught most of the conversation.
Chauncey placed his hands over his brother’s head. His brother closed his eyes as a sign of pleasure. “Father, we ask that you touch my brother’s body. In the name of Jesus that you heal him. I ask in the matchless name of Jesus, Amen.” Chauncey turned and headed toward the door.
“Don’t leave,” Henry pleaded.
“I’ve got to go. I’ve got some important matters to attend to, but you don’t need me; you need the Lord.”
“Please,” Henry said with his eyes full of tears.
Chauncey should have been moved by this pathetic display, but he wasn’t. All he could think of was how Henry was the most stubborn person on the planet. Instead of making it right with the Lord, he preferred to call on his brother to save him. But even Chauncey could not save his brother. Chauncey walked past Nicole, who was still at the door, and did not bother to say a word.
“Bye, bighead,” Nicole shouted.
The nickname Nicole used to call Chauncey when they were kids still conveyed a sense of love and affection.
Chauncey did not break his stride as he continued to walk, and held up his hand as a sign that he had heard his younger sibling. He was always treated as the enemy. All Chauncey ever tried to do for his brother and sister was equip them with a spiritual foundation. As far as he was concerned, both his sister and his brother might end up in hell.
Chapter Four
In school, Chantel had been fascinated with Japanese culture. She welcomed the rumors that she was half black, half Asian. Her tight lids gave weight to the rumors. So the fact that the living room of her two-bedroom apartment was decked out in Japanese decor was not a shock to Jamal.
The answer to a two-year mystery lay