The Retreat (18 page)

Chauncey did not stay for service on Sunday. He dropped Will off at the church and made his way toward the hospital. His sister had left frantic messages for him to call or come to the hospital. Chauncey did not bother returning the messages. He knew why she was calling, and he preferred to see what's going on rather than hear.

He arrived at the hospital with grayish-purple clouds hovering above. While standing outside of the hospital, Chauncey came to the revelation that he was, in fact, a coward. None of the events of this weekend had developed his ability to face difficult circumstances. He cowered at the thought that as long as he did not enter the hospital, he did not have to face the truth.

Chauncey began to walk toward the hospital tower, and it seemed that his shoes were made of concrete the way that they dragged along. Through the double sliding doors and past the doctors, RNs, and patients, Chauncey entered the elevator. As the elevator went up, his stomach went down. His arrival to the tenth floor brought him face-to-face with his brother lying as still as death on his hospital bed.

“Henry,” Chauncey said, as if his words could bring his brother back.

Henry did not look dead, merely asleep. Chauncey touched Henry's forehead. It was cold, but that could have been a result of the room temperature. But Chauncey knew better. All the arguments in the world seemed miniscule compared to this moment. His baby brother was no longer alive.

Henry had died Saturday night, but his deepest fear was not fulfilled. He did not die alone. His sister had been there for him, but his brother was hours away. Pastor Dawkins had been right: this was not a feeling he would want. All of his resentment toward his brother was shallow. Chauncey wanted nothing more than to see his brother alive again.

The tears his sister must have cried had dried, and rage took its rightful place on her face. “You selfish son of a…” Her words trailed off, engulfed by emotions.

“Nicole, please.” Chauncey put his hand up in submission.

Nicole stood up from the corner of the room, walked toward Chauncey, and stopped to size him up. “I spent all Saturday watching our brother slowly pass away and watching the door. I was hoping that my big brother would walk in with his large Bible and spend the evening praying for his brother.” Nicole fought back the tears. “But I see now that you can't even be counted on with something as crucial as this.”

Chauncey's mental bank was empty of any words. There was not a word in his lexicon that could justify his actions. If he did not know any better, Chauncey would have sworn that God had blocked him from producing any explanation.

“I'm sorry. I had to do God's—”

Nicole completed Chauncey's statement with a slap, and walked out while wiping her eyes.

Chauncey sat in the waiting room and cried like a baby until the nurse came in and brought Henry's belongings. He searched through the St. Mary's hospital bag and found pictures of when he and Henry were in Little League together. He also saw pictures of him and his family during Christmas time. Christmas had not been the same without the entire family being there; and it would never be the same again.

To his astonishment, Chauncey found a burgundy leather-bound Bible in Henry's bag. He thumbed through the Bible only to find certain passages highlighted. Some of them were passages that Chauncey used to quote. In the middle of the Bible was a letter, and ironically it was found right where Jesus talks about setting things right with your brother.

Chauncey placed the letter to his face. What little that remained of his brother's legacy lay in this letter.

 

The measure of a man is in the lives that he touched. Despite the friction between Chauncey and his baby brother, not even Chauncey would have wanted his brother to have such a poor send-off. There was not even a police escort for the drive to the cemetery. Chauncey and Nicole were the only ones who attended Henry's funeral.

Henry had betrayed so many people in his life, that, in the end, no one could honestly stand to even be in the same room as his corpse. Tears overwhelmed Chauncey as he saw the wooden casket lowered into the ground. Neither he nor Nicole could sing, so he imagined someone singing “Amazing Grace.”

“We're all that we have, big brother,” Nicole said.

“I wasted time,” Chauncey replied.

“You're only human, and I know that, deep down, you just wanted the family to stay together.”

“Why doesn't it feel that way?” Chauncey asked.

“It'll take time. But one thing I know for sure is that no matter what, we are going to stick together.” Nicole hugged Chauncey.

Nicole was right: they were all they had. Chauncey embraced her and knew that his convictions did not have to stand in his way of loving his family.

“I didn't get into the minister's class,” Chauncey replied.

“Bighead, have you ever thought that maybe you weren't meant to be a minister?”

That thought had never crossed Chauncey's mind. He had known that he was meant to be a preacher from the moment he got saved. He'd had so many people prophesy and speak into him, that he knew it was only a matter of time before he became a minister.

“Just because you're saved don't mean you have to be a preacher. The man that sits in the pew can be just as effective as the man who stands in the pulpit.”

All of Chauncey's efforts had been in vain. He'd strived to obtain something that only God could give, and missed one thing that mattered most in his life: being there for his family.

“This is going to hurt me more than it's going to hurt you,” Quincy said as he slammed down the domino, causing the table to shake as a result of his voracity.

Will shook his head. Quincy had been scoring points on the regular thanks to Chauncey.

“Lock him up, C!” Will said.

“I don't know how to read the board,” Chauncey snapped back.

“That's a darn shame,” Jamal said as he slammed down his domino.

Will took a moment to survey the condominium. Will dreamed of having an apartment like this: eggshell white carpet; Baltic ceiling with a winding staircase. Quincy's condo even had a piano in it. More importantly, Quincy had a balcony with a view of downtown Long Beach.

“This is a nice little spot you have here,” Will said as he played his domino.

“Yeah, I've been staying here for the last four months until I find a more permanent place. I might have to re-sign for another six-month lease since it's hard to find a place in this recession.”

“You haven't talked to Karen?” Jamal asked.

“Nope!” Quincy slammed down another domino and disrupted the T-pattern of dominoes.

“I still can't believe you went through with the divorce. God is not for divorce,” Chauncey said.

“It's time I started being more concerned with what I want and less with what God wants. If God didn't want me to divorce my wife, He shouldn't have let one of his ministers sleep with her,” Quincy said.

Quincy's entire situation reinforced why Will was cool on marriage and females all together. Quincy had everything a female could possibly want: money, homes, cars, and a flair for the finer things. Why would his wife cheat?

In the hood, Will always heard how men were dogs and how they thought with the wrong head. Will knew that was a lie. Today's female was just as capable of treachery as a man was. Will blamed this on a warped sense of women's empowerment. These women saw Michelle Obama, Oprah, and Tyra Banks, and thought that if they could thrive in a man's world, then why couldn't they themselves? Of course, Will's train of thought was disrupted by the fact that Chauncey still had not played another domino.

“C, you need to focus on what you're doing. You're the slowest domino player in the world.” Will turned his attention back to the game. “I feel you though, Q, you don't need a girl like that!”

“Do you really think that Karen was out to hurt you?” Chauncey asked as he played a domino.

“No, I know she made a mistake. I just don't think I can get over it,” Quincy replied.

“You can do all things through Christ Jesus,” Will said, and when he looked up, he had everyone's attention. “What? I do read my Bible. I'm trying to better myself; it's just that when I get home, it's a war zone. I mean, the devil really be on me and my family.”

“How's barber college working out?” Quincy asked.

“Great. I got an interview with Platinum Cuts this week. It's hard, because since my father's been locked up, I've always been the one to go out and get money. Now that I'm saved, I haven't been hustling and my family has been struggling.”

Will knew that he had come to both love and admire these men. Four months ago, he would not have disclosed with men so much of his deep, personal turmoil. Of course, four months ago he was a high school dropout. Now he had just gotten a GED and was ready to conquer his dream. But for four months he had been ducking and dogging D-Loc and his gang. He spent most of his nights with Jamal. That made it even harder for D-Loc to catch up with him.

“Will, you got to stay the course. Your blessing is on the other side, just hold on,” Jamal said.

“I know, that's why I'm nervous about this interview,” Will said.

“Just remember, God does not give you the spirit of fear or timidity, but of love and of power and a sound mind,” Chauncey added.

“What are you wearing to the interview?” Quincy asked.

Will found Quincy's question to be peculiar; this entire time Will had been thinking about what he was going to say and not about what he was going to wear.

“I don't know. I got a polo shirt and some khakis. I guess I'll wear that.” Will shrugged. He continued to play, but he noticed that Quincy started to stare at him in a way that made Will uncomfortable.

“What size are you?” Quincy asked Will.

“I'm about an extra large in T-shirts and about a thirty-two to thirty-four in pants.”

“Come with me.” Quincy put down his dominoes, got up, and walked toward the back of the condo.

Will followed him, not sure where they were going. He walked along the condo and observed unique African paintings of tribesmen and women. They entered Quincy's massive walk-in closet, and that's when Quincy officially became Will's hero. This closet looked more like the men's suits section at Macy's. He had suits of every different color, from navy blue to buttercream to jet-black with pinstripes. He had an entire section of shoes still in their boxes. Quincy even had a leather seat in front of a display table filled with ties.

“Wow, you got yourself some clean suits, fam,” Will said.

“Monday through Friday, my dad used to be covered in dirt from his job in construction. But when Sunday came, he would step out in the finest suits. I vowed that when I got older, I would dress this good every day.” Quincy pulled a silver-gray suit from the rack and walked over to Will. “Try this on.” Quincy took the jacket off the hanger and handed it over to Will, who walked over to the mirror in the back of the closet and put the jacket on.

The material was as smooth as silk. Will felt like and looked like a new man.

“You look good, we can have it tailored.” Quincy said with a smile.

“Thanks.” Will was not used to receiving compliments from another man.

“It's all about dressing for where you're going and not for where you've been. You've been through the gutter, but now you're heading for higher ground and you have to be ready for where God takes you.”

Will knew his friend was hurt and upset with God, but the fact that he could still acknowledge God gave Will hope. He wished he knew enough about the Bible to help his friend, but if Jamal and Chauncey could not offer any comforting words and they were Bible scholars, then maybe Quincy's situation was beyond everybody's understanding.

Quincy went around to the tie rack in front of the suit rack and pulled off a tie that matched the suit. He held the tie up to Will's jacket. “You know how to tie a tie?”

“No,” Will said. He felt sort of ashamed, because he'd always looked at ties as a sign that a man was soft, but since meeting Quincy, he knew he was wrong.

“Every man has to learn how to tie a tie. That's part of his passage from boyhood to manhood,” Quincy said.

“I never saw it as important. I mean, there are no occasions other than funerals that call for me to wear a tie. And I stopped going to funerals a long time ago because I saw them as bad luck. One minute you attend a funeral, next minute, folks are attending yours.”

“Well, now you're preparing for your career. Here, let me show you.” Quincy tossed the tie over Will's neck. He lined the tie up and started to overlap one end with the other until he formed a knot that resembled a tie.

“Now, when you're in the interview tomorrow, try to make it more of a conversation than an interview. Get the person to talk about why he's with the company. The entire point is to get him to see you as an employee already. Tell him what you bring to the company. It may be a barbershop, but it's still a business.”

Will was overwhelmed by all the kindness Quincy was showing him. Even though his life wasn't turning out the way he'd expected it to, the man was still taking his time to make sure that Will's did.

“Q, I can't thank you enough for all you're doing. I'm not used to people showing me love like this.”

“I want you to succeed, and I believe you have what it takes. You just have to be in an environment that can help you.”

Will knew that what Quincy was saying was true. He was closing in on leaving his past behind him. He had become a Christian, he had gone to school, and yet everything he had worked hard for over the last four months was still in danger of being lost on account of his environment. Will did not know if it was God or the pull his father had, but Will was glad to be free. Will stopped hanging around his old spots and only went home when his instincts told him to. He focused on getting his GED. He focused on going to church and he focused on getting his barber's license. That plan had worked for a while, but you can't hide in Long Beach for too long without someone spotting you.

“Listen, Will, I know that you got a tough situation at home, and if you want, I got an extra bedroom. You can stay with me until you get your feet squared.”

“Man, I can't stay here,” Will said, declining the offer.

“I'm barely here, I'm usually working. You can stay until you get a place of your own.”

“I can't thank you enough,” Will said.

“Don't thank me. I see you as an investment, but the deal is for you only,” Quincy said.

Will knew not to expect Quincy to extend the offer to the entire family, but if Will could at least get his brother out of the house, then Will would have peace of mind.

“I appreciate that, man. I mean, seeing you and everything that you're doing is inspiring.”

“It takes hard work to have success and to maintain the success.”

“Yeah, it's like what Billy Dee said in that movie
Mahogany
; success is nothing without someone you love to share it with.” Will let out a smirk, thinking that Quincy would appreciate him being able to quote a Black classic like Mahogany. Instead, Will found a stunned look on his friend's face. It was like he was mulling over what Will had just said, and a light switch had gone on.

“You're absolutely right, Will,” Quincy finally said.

God evidently had a plan for Will in spite of his mistakes, and if Will accomplished nothing else with his life, he was determined to try to understand why God loved him so much.

 

Broken glass crushed underneath Will's black-and-white tennis shoes. He pulled up his black jeans as he walked along Atlantic Avenue. He walked the route home that took him past a storefront church called Zion Temple. He also passed by a Nubian Beauty Salon.

Will entered a beige apartment complex that faced the end of the street and sat next to a liquor store. Upon entering the apartment, Will was greeted by a putrid smell of spoiled milk. Dirty clothes covered the maroon carpet as SpongeBob SquarePants played on the TV.

His mother sat in a green recliner, motionless, with her eyes open, barely alert. His little sister crawled around as she reached for her pacifier on the floor. Will removed it from her hands before she could put it in her mouth. He picked her up and put her in the crib next to the TV.

Will looked in the refrigerator to find only a box of cereal, baking soda, and a little bit of fruit punch.

“Can you cut my hair?” his brother, Joshua, asked as he turned around to show the condition of his head.

Will closed the refrigerator door and pointed toward the chair next to the dining room table.

“What happened to the money I gave you yesterday?” Will called out to his mother. He was concerned that he had given her sixty dollars and did not see any evidence of his money today. It had been foolish of him to think that a dopefiend would miss an opportunity to get high.

“Where you been?” his mother asked.

“I've been out with friends from church. I got a nice little spot in downtown Long Beach.”

“You ain't got no spot in Long Beach. I don't know why you even lying.”

Little Elisha started crying, and Will knew that it had to do with her probably needing to be changed or needing some food or just needing some love. Her screams were interrupting his mother from watching her court shows.

“Stop crying, stupid!” His mother reached to smack his sister, and Will rushed over to grab her hand.

“You don't have to hit her every time she cries. She's a baby! She don't know how to ask for something, so she cries when she don't get what she needs.”

“Don't tell me how to raise my child. I've been doing this long before you were even thought of. Who you think raised you? She's just spoiled, that's all.”

“How can she be spoiled when we're broke? We don't have nothing because you're always smoking it up.”

Will was sick of the abuse and the manipulation. Both entities had run rampant in his life, and now he no longer wanted to tolerate it.

“I want to take my brother with me,” Will said, to the delight of his brother.

“He ain't going nowhere,” his mother snarled.

“All he's going to do is get himself killed. Let me give him a chance to have a normal life,” Will pleaded.

“You can go wherever you want. You've already abandoned your family when you started hanging around those church folks. But your brother is going to stay right here.”

Will knew he was fighting a useless battle, but he was determined to not give up.

“I'll come for you when I get situated. Just stay strong until then,” Will whispered in his brother's ear.

A knock on the screen door sank Will's heart. D-Loc was known for his three knocks. That was his way of making his presence known. Will was amazed at how well he'd dodged his gang for the last several months, but now he was caught.

“What up, playboy,” Will said as he opened the door.

“What's up with you?” D-Loc did not wait for permission. He opened the screen door and walked in. D-Loc gave Will a fist pound. He then turned to Will's mother. “How you doing, Mrs. Tate?”

Will's mom responded with a slight nod. This was the first time Will had seen D-Loc since the Retreat. Will had been up front with his decision to give his life over to the Lord, and while everyone disagreed, they had decided to back off of Will, figuring it would be a matter of time before he returned to the streets. But Will knew that too much time had passed and D-Loc's visit was prompted by his need for Will to put in work.