Suave looked around the church and saw that everyone’s eyes were closed. He peered intently at Bishop Hudson and remembered how Pastor Ralph used to pray like that. Suave took a deep breath, willing the memories away as the bishop prayed.
“... As we gather here tonight in Men’s Fellowship, Lord, I pray that you will touch each and every brother in this church,” Bishop continued. “Heal, deliver, and set free, dear Lord. Let your words penetrate their hearts and change their lives. Hallelujah! Make them law-abiding men of God who will serve you and give you the honor and the glory. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.”
The men responded, “Amen.” Alwayne lowered himself to his seat, and Suave followed. Light perspiration was now gathered on Suave’s face. He shifted uncomfortably, his breathing labored, his chest rising and falling as he ignored Alwayne who was staring at him with concern.
“You okay, man?” Alwayne asked softly.
Suave nodded, coughed into his hands, and looked up at Bishop Hudson, who was saying, “Our sins separate us from God, our creator. This verse is contrasting the spiritual death with eternal life. If your work is sin, you will receive a payment of spiritual death. This is ultimately eternal separation from God in hell.”
“Death,” “Hell,” these words began hammering into Suave’s head. He had to kill Pastor Ralph—death. Danny murdered Cobra—death. Someone killed Danny—death. Does that mean he was going to hell? Was Pastor Ralph in hell? Was there even a hell? Suave lowered his head until it was almost touching his lap. He felt Alwayne’s hand on his shoulder, but it was like Suave was underwater struggling to breathe. “Death,” “Hell,” “Death.” He covered his ears with his hands as he rocked from side to side. “No!” Suave screamed, jumping to his feet, his wild eyes scanning the church as if he were looking for the devil.
Bishop Hudson and all the other men turned to look at Suave. The room was arrested in silence.
Suave peered at Bishop Hudson but only saw Pastor Ralph looking at him. “You’re a fraud!” Suave yelled, pointing at the bishop. Alwayne and the men gasped loudly, but Bishop Hudson stared at Suave with compassion. “You’re nothing but a child molester and deserve to die and go to hell!”
“Suave, stop it!” Alwayne hissed, tugging on Suave’s T-shirt. “Sit down.”
Suave flicked off Alwayne’s hand and ran out of the church, astonished eyes following him. Once outside, he ran to where his car was parked. With his two hands resting on the hood, he hyperventilated, tears running down his face. “I hate pastors. I hate church. I hate God,” he muttered over and over.
“Suave, you okay?” Alwayne asked from behind him, lingering a few feet away.
“Are you okay, my son?” Bishop Hudson inquired as well. He had followed Suave and Alwayne out of the church, after instructing the men inside to start praying and interceding on behalf of the “troubled young man.”
Suave took his handkerchief out of his pants pocket, blew his nose, and wiped his face, his back still turned to Alwayne and Bishop Hudson.
“Son?” Bishop Hudson stepped closer to Suave. “May I pray for you?”
Suave spun around and glared at the bishop. “You better stay away from me.”
“I’m not your enemy,” Bishop Hudson replied in a meek voice. “It’s the devil that has been tormenting you. But the Lord can set you free. Please, let me help you.”
“Help me, huh?” Suave began to laugh crazily. “See why I don’t do church?” He looked over at Alwayne after the laughter tapered off. “These no-good, low-life pastors are always trying to mess with me. You kill one, another just pops right back up. Why can’t they all just die, man?”
Bishop Hudson took another step closer to Suave, but Alwayne put his hand on the bishop’s arm to stop him. “I’ll take it from here, Bishop,” Alwayne informed him. “Please go back inside, and I’ll contact you later or tomorrow.”
Bishop Hudson stared at Suave for a moment before he lightly slapped Alwayne on the back and walked back up the steps into the church.
“Suave, you need some help.” Alwayne moved closer to him until they were standing face-to-face.
“More help, right?” Suave sucked his teeth. “You are really the Good Samaritan.”
“Hey, I thought you said you didn’t do church or the Bible,” Alwayne joked. “Look at you talk about the Good Samaritan and all.”
Suave rolled his eyes. “My mother used to take me to church before she died.”
“Listen, Suave, my wife is a psychiatrist and works with Kingston Public Hospital. I think it’s a good idea for you to meet with her.”
“Do I look like I’m crazy to you?” Suave nostrils opened and closed in anger.
Alwayne held his hands up. “You don’t have to have a mental illness to see her. She also does psychotherapy and counseling. No, don’t say anything yet. I can tell you have some stuff going on inside here.” He pointed to his head. “You just called my pastor a child molester, Suave. It’s obvious he wasn’t really the one you were talking to. Am I right?”
Suave lowered his head in shame.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of,” Alwayne told him. “If you were a victim, you can get help. As your doctor, my wife is required to be confidential. She won’t even speak to me about your sessions.”
“Really? No one will know?”
“No, it will be between you and her.” Alwayne almost held his breath as he looked at Suave anxiously. “I’ll speak to her when I get home and have her call you.”
Suave took a deep breath and locked eyes with Alwayne. He saw the care in Alwayne’s eyes and almost teared up again. Boy, he was really getting soft. “I guess I can meet with her, especially if she’s fine.” Suave’s dimples twinkled in his handsome face.
“Man, I’m trying to get you off a murder rap, and
