Soon After

by Sherryle Kiser Jackson

Genres: African American; African American Christian; Christian Fiction

Synopsis

When Pastors Willie Green and Vanessa Morton got married and moved to merge their churches, they never expected so much resistance. Now it seems someone is sending a strong message by setting fire to the Harvest Baptist Church building. The newly unified Pleasant Harvest Baptist Church is no more than four months into business as usual before Co-Pastor Willie Green is drawn into the middle of an arson investigation. Alexis Montgomery, an overzealous reporter, sees the experienced pastor as a great source to latch onto as she tries to unearth the stories that might solve the crime. Instead of being bothered by the presence of this woman, Co-Pastor Vanessa uses it as a distraction to help conceal her own secrets. Orchestrating the unification rift makes Deacon Charley Thompson a prime suspect. His unexpected silence only fuels the accusations of guilt, and his meek wife becomes his unlikely spokesperson. Meanwhile, his nephew, Abe Townsend, couldn't care less about family allegiances. Led by an anonymous publicist, Abe and the remaining displaced members of Harvest Baptist Church gain notoriety when news reports garner an outcry of sympathy and support. What should have been a simple unification of two churches has turned into something much more complicated, and it will take plenty of faith to hold it all together.

Release date: September 1, 2010

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 304

Sample

Willie Green strolled leisurely from the front entrance of the Pleasant Harvest Baptist Church to the office suite. He was keenly aware that his feet were confined to his dress shoes and his neck was noosed by his tie. As busy as his year had been combining churches with his wife, the couple decided to take an early vacation, a free frolicking Spring Break, like college students take. It started Easter Monday and lasted one blissful, congregation-free week. After seven days and six nights of sleeping in, walking along the Jersey shoreline, and dinning out at the quaint restaurants of Cape May, it was official. He had to go back to work.

He spotted Luella, their administrative assistant, on the telephone as he cleared the corner. He could tell by the tilt of her head and the coil of telephone cord around her finger that she had been conversing for a while and that the call was a personal one. Their absence had not offered her time off, but rather had offered a more relaxed work schedule. He cleared his throat to announce his arrival.

“Goodness, Pastor. You scared me,” Luella said, pausing to say goodbye to someone who had enough sense to quickly relinquish the call. She stood up. “Sorry.”

With a wave of his hand, Willie assured her that she hadn’t committed any cardinal sin. “Next time I’ll announce myself with a chorus of ‘Sign me up for the Christian Jubilee’.”

The joke was lost on her. She was a young woman with an old name. She couldn’t be any older than thirty. Good home and business school training, but a bit too staunch for his taste. Give him personable over professional any day, like his old church clerk and mother-figure, Mae Richardson, who had passed away right before their churches combined. Willie and Luella hadn’t quite bonded, but Willie could understand why she and Vanessa meshed so well. His wife was all business, all the time. She would give Luella an itemized list of things to do with a timeline, then lock herself away for hours working on a project. Willie was always stir crazy locked in his office too long and craved social interaction by noon.

“I figured since it was after eleven that you and Sister Pastor were taking another day off. Where is Sister Pastor, by the way?”

“She’s taking another day. Like you said, sometimes you need a vacation after your vacation.” He covered his mouth with his hand as if to let her in on a secret. “I think she just wanted a Willie-free day.”

Willie had thought certain that Vanessa would be ready to return to the church operations as well. He had always known her to quickly move on to the next thing. She had outlined at least four sermons while they were away that he knew she wanted to cross reference with the catalog of sermons she kept on her office computer. Plus she was involved in the planning of both the upcoming Trinity Conference and the Church’s 50th Anniversary.

He gave her a lecture about being present, enjoying the moment, and not taking too much work with them on their vacation. Once she got the idea, he figured it was taking her awhile to switch back out of relax mode. Willie nudged her at 8 A.M. and then again at nine thirty when he finally got up to eat and get dressed. She rattled off some excuse from their four poster bed as if he were her employee and she was calling in sick.

“Well, I certainly have missed you two, and so have the fifty or so people who’ve called or left messages for you all,” Luella said in her chipper cadence.

As if on cue, her desk telephone rang at that moment. Willie listened as she acknowledged the caller with a perky and polite Pleasant Harvest greeting. “As a matter of fact, he’s right here,” Luella said, banking the call before he could object.

“So much for getting situated,” Willie murmured as he looked for a place to rest his briefcase.

“She’s on line two.”

“She?” Willie asked. His finger was poised on the receiver.

“Alexis Montgomery, a reporter for Channel 7.” She referenced a pad on her desk. “Called twice while you were away and once this morning. That would put her at the top of your call back list.”

Willie put up a finger to halt further explanation as he tried to figure out for a moment the possible nature of the call. “Hello, this is Pastor Willie Green.”

“Pastor Green, this is Alexis Montgomery. I am the assignment reporter that did the remote interview with you at the site of the Harvest Baptist Church on Easter Sunday.”

“Yes, I remember,” Willie said.

“I was wondering if I can set up an appointment to sit down with you to discuss a story idea I’m working on that would go into your affiliation with that church,” Alexis said.

Willie shook his head as he thought of the four months it had taken him to let go of his affiliation to Harvest Baptist Church, where he had served as a pastor for the past ten years. His mini vacation had helped to further remove himself from the recent calamity at his former church and its ramifications on the now homeless members.

Willie let out a puff of air. He felt a headache coming on. “Ms. Montgomery, I literally just got in the office. Let me get situated and get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Please, Pastor Green, this meeting, like everything in journalism, is time sensitive,” she pleaded.

“Ms. Montgomery,” Willie said, cutting off her hard sale with a diplomatic voice. “I am passing the phone to our secretary to get your call back information. Talk to you soon. Be blessed.”

Willie heard Luella ask the reporter to hold before banking the call again.

“I’m an administrative assistant,” Luella said.

“Huh?”

“You called me a secretary. ‘I am handing the phone off to my secretary.’ My title is administrative assistant.”

Her tone was serious, but not sassy, so Willie looked at the young woman standing on the other side of the desk briefly to see if he had hurt her feelings, “Sorry.”

She reached across the desk and handed him a stack of mail and papers secured in folders and bound with a rubber band. “I guess I should debrief you. Wanna go in Sister Pastor’s office or the study?”

Willie thought about it. “No, I’m going down the hall to my office. Give me a minute, you know, let me get acclimated to being at work again before coming down.”

Willie approached the door of the office that he used to seclude himself. The door was freshly stained after removing the lettering that read: FIRST LADY’S LOUNGE. This had been the space where his mother-in-law kept his now wife and her sister out of their dad’s hair when they were little and where they entertained the companions of traveling ministers. It was down the hall from Daddy Morton’s personal study and the adjoining office that was now Vanessa’s spacious headquarters.

His wife was rooted here, and being in a space that was once her father’s had to have special meaning for her, Willie thought.

Although he had pondered remodeling the office suites to suit them both, he didn’t want to have that debate with Vanessa. It would be like negotiating more closet space at home. It wasn’t worth the breath. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much. Maybe because he was the co-pastor to a congregation of nearly 500 whose office was in a lounge. It was a modest size office minus the gingham covered couches and doily-covered coffee table. In fact, with the addition of his old office furniture and desk set, it was eerily like his office at Harvest Baptist Church. Maybe he was being a stereotypical man, but size did matter.

The pile Luella gave him got tossed in the center of his desk along with his keys. From his briefcase, he extracted a souvenir photo of him and Vanessa on a dinner cruise. The empty case got placed by the door for the return trip home after placing the photo in a prominent position. He took great satisfaction in booting up his office computer. According to technicians, his computer rendered the only stable connection to the outside world when they had come to work on the church’s system. They had no immediate solution to getting Vanessa’s computer online or maintaining Luella’s connection. He welcomed Vanessa and Luella who had no choice but to come-a-knockin’ every so often on Willie’s door when they needed to reach out to resources beyond the Pleasant Harvest network.

Willie was trying to figure out the password to the guestbook feature that allowed people to reach out to their ministry online for prayer requests when Luella buzzed to say she would be coming down. He unraveled the bundle he was given earlier so he could be prepared. Contracts for conference space and spreadsheets of allocated funds for the Trinity Conference followed by a few preacher profiles cluttered his desk. There were checks made out with a financial secretary report that needed Vanessa’s authorizing signature. Underneath all that was a call back list of people he didn’t know and drafts of ministry lessons he didn’t create.

Luella entered after a short rap on the door. She extended more papers for him to grasp. “I accidentally gave you Sister Pastor’s pile.”

Although he was still gathering Vanessa’s bundle back together, he noticed Vanessa’s pile was considerably thicker.

“So what do you have for me?” Willie asked.

“Membership roles, invitations, a couple of messages, and a few commercial Bible study aides to review.”

“Is that it?“ Willie said.

“Yep,” she assured.

Willie looked up at her from her tailor-made suit to her tailor-made smile. He wondered if she could be stashing his work in File 13. He looked through Vanessa’s pile again. Although he and Vanessa had informally designated the membership needs to him and the business end of the ministry to her, who was to say he couldn’t handle both in her absence?

“Why don’t you sit down, Luella?” Willie said, noticing how she anxiously stomped the heel of her right shoe into the carpet. “How did things really go while we were away? Tell me about Sunday.”

He watched her sit down hesitantly in the small leather upright chair across from his desk and tilt her legs to the side before crossing them at the ankles. She used Vanessa’s inbox pile that he had given back to her to cover her lap. Willie pushed back in his chair as if he were about to unload his burdens to a therapist.

“Well, Sunday was interesting. Minister Morton preached. No, it was more like she taught a lesson on Faithfulness. Although she kind of lost people, trying to relate the text to her personal stories about her engagement and wedding planning. It was like Star Jones on The View before her wedding to Al Reynolds.” Luella chuckled, allowing herself to fall back into the pad of the chair. She caught herself and brought back the professional polish with a fake cough. She stood. “It was good though.”

Keisha Morton was Vanessa’s sister and the current minister to the singles at Pleasant Harvest. She surprised everyone when she informally announced her engagement to Willie’s mentee, Paul Grant, on Easter Sunday.

“Oh, and tell Sister Pastor that I’d like to personally thank you both for not informing her sister and your sister-in-law that you were going out of town when you asked her to preach.” Her perturbed expression revealed the sarcasm.

This time Willie chuckled. “She worried you to death, didn’t she?”

“She called for a moratorium on scheduling things on the church calendars until she decided on a date for the wedding. How dare you go out of town before she officially declared the date for the wedding of the century? Dra-ma,” Luella sang.

They both shared a good laugh before Willie said, “All I can say is pray for Paul.”

“Pray for us all,” Luella responded, doing an about face for the door.

“Wait a minute,” Willie said, halting her retreat. “What about my members?”

“We had to use the Ministry Tree you came up with. I know Sister Pastor thought it wouldn’t work for a congregation this size, but the chain of command really worked well. We alerted all ministry heads that you were out of town. Plus put a note on our website. Then Theodora Marshall was rushed to the hospital on Wednesday.”

“And?” Willie said, cutting her off. This is what he had been waiting for. This was the kind of stuff that got his blood pumping.

“We started at the bottom and worked up. She is a part of the Prayer Partners Ministry. We called the ministry leader, who in turn kept her watchcare deacon and ministry members updated. I even went to see her myself on Thursday after work. Another member was about to be evicted, but that got resolved. I made you a report that I will email you later.”

Willie didn’t want a report. He wanted Luella to sit down and describe for him how Sister Marshall looked. Was she rail-thin or did she look about ready for a chicken dinner, as Mae would have categorized it? He wanted to know details about the sacrifices people made to help her and others in need. He wanted to hear how the saints rallied around her and prayed for her strength.

“Like I said, the Ministry Tree worked well and should alleviate some of the personal responsibility that falls on you and Sister Pastor,” Luella said, practically from the doorway.

Work so well they won’t need me, Willie thought. “Wait, why do you keeping rushing off?”

Luella’s voice was anxious. “I forgot that I have to complete some important business for Sister Pastor.”

“What about the people I asked you about for the Young People’s initiative?”

“That’s what the membership roles are for, Brother Pastor.” Luella backtracked to his desk. She flipped back the cover and pointed, “See here, I printed a spreadsheet of all our members with children ages eleven to eighteen for the Young Missionaries Program and those who have boys ages six and up for the Scouts. This was based on the combined church census we conducted right after Unification. It should adequately represent our membership. I need to show you how you can sort the database for whatever category you want. Then you can play around with it while you are at work.”

Vanessa had important business; he had time to play, Willie thought. This church had more children than he had members at Harvest Baptist, with not many church structured activities to promote growth and fellowship. The Young Missionaries program could offer the right young people from their congregation the opportunity to train locally and travel across the nation helping others. Far be it for their administrative assistant, who was also a member, to help recommend some people for the program. A perfectly formatted document did not tell Willie who to approach to help start a scouting program at church.

What am I complaining for, he thought, she had done her job.

Luella stood at his desk as if she awaited a hall pass. He motioned for her to sit down again. Vanessa was at home, and her assistant would just have to help him with his pressing business.

“So, what do we know about this reporter who called?” Willie said, once again pushing back in his chair, this time to cross his legs.

“She called a couple of times—sounded real anxious to get in touch with you. Then on Thursday people started calling the church after the noon broadcast because they were talking about the fire at your old church again on the news.”

“I wonder what she wants to talk to me about,” Willie said more to himself than to her.

“I don’t know,” Luella replied.

“I guess if I don’t call her back in a timely fashion, she will have to find someone else for her interview.” He began clicking his ink pen to a rhythm to help him think. “What do you think?”

“I think you should call Sister Pastor. She always knows what to do.”

“Thanks, Luella,” he said abruptly. She stood for a third time and headed for the door. He didn’t know what he was hesitant for, or why he needed anyone to justify his actions. It was time for him to take charge. “Get me that reporter’s number.”

“I gave it to you with your other messages, Brother Pastor. It’s number one on your call back list,” she called to him from the hallway.

He consulted his watch before picking up the phone to dial. It was only one o’clock. It felt as if he had worked a whole day already and it was barely lunch time. He was determined to plow through his membership roles and make some decisions on the Young People’s initiative, then get out to see Sister Marshall at the hospital before heading home.

There were two numbers listed for Alexis Montgomery. He chose the latter that appeared to be a cell phone number in hopes of connecting the call directly. She picked up on the third ring.

“This is Alexis.”

“Ms. Montgomery, this is Pastor Willie Green returning your call.”

“Great, I’m glad you got back with me so fast. Like I said I want to move on this story quickly. I’m looking to do a series of angles on this story to propose at the next production meeting in hopes of stretching the story to its fullest potential.”

“I guess you need to help me understand. There was a fire. It made the news. I guess I don’t see what is left to report.” He used his first two fingers of his right hand to gesture.

“I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Inside 7 segment, but it is our weekly News Magazine where we bring a more in depth coverage on local stories of interest. We get so bogged down with D.C. area politics that this show is devoted to the people of the D.C. Metro area. When I broke the story I knew it had potential, but recent reports and support from our viewers makes us here at Channel 7 believe that this is a story that’s worth investigating further.”

“I see,” Willie said although he did not completely see his role in the whole thing.

“I interviewed several people, but you’re the only one I could get in contact with again because I had written down the name of your new church. The initial report sparked quite a bit of mail bag response. Many want to reach out to the members of your former church. I’m sure you’ve been thinking about that to.”

“My wife and I pastor another church,” Willie responded absentmindedly as a surge of guilt took over him. He had not thought about the people, many of which he used to pastor. He had not thought about the community he loved to service. He had not thought about Charley Thompson, the deacon that was so adamant about staying at Harvest that he rallied members behind his back to sign a petition to stop the move to no avail.

“Do you think we can get together this afternoon so we can discuss this further?” Alexis asked.

“I don’t know,” Willie said. Indecisiveness once again was taking hold.

“Please, Pastor, you are my only solid lead. I went back to the neighborhood today and everyone talked so highly of the church when it was under your pastorate.”

Willie thought about it. “My afternoon is booked. I have to visit a member in the hospital before heading home this afternoon.”

“I could meet you at your home. The initial interview won’t take long. I could even bring something to eat.” Willie could hear the desperation in her voice.

“No,” Willie said, thinking about Vanessa’s reaction if a strange woman brought food into their house. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Maybe you need to call your wife first and get back to me.”

It was an innocent statement that was said by someone he was sure didn’t mean anything by it. “That won’t be necessary either. You can meet me at my home around 6:30 this evening. I live at 442 Barney Lane in Temple Hills.”

She thanked him as if she had been waiting all day for that answer. He emptied his lungs out in a puff of air as he replaced the receiver.

After nearly forty-five minutes of staring down at the membership document Luella had prepared for him, he folded the cover back over. He would be taking work home tonight. He prepared himself to leave for the hospital. He looked at their dinner cruise picture and said, ‘Honey, guess who’s coming to dinner?”

Vanessa found herself temporarily caught up in the lives of those appearing in front of the judge on The People’s Court. One episode in particular pit a mother against her own daughter. It was the case of the college refund. The mother was suing the daughter for the amount of her college tuition after the daughter went off to school in her third year and eloped with someone of a different race. The mother, who was obviously hurt and seeking revenge, claimed she didn’t send her daughter to school for marriage, therefore their agreement was broken. So much for forgiveness, Vanessa thought. She found herself calling out to the television, “You need to get your butt out of court and heal your family before the Lord comes back and passes down real judgment for your tail.”

When she looked at her bedside clock, she realized it was 1:00 P.M. She expected Willie to call her when he reached the office to let her know what tasks lay in store for her upon her return, but she was glad he didn’t. She hadn’t bothered to call him either or check in with Luella. She hadn’t realized how hard she had been working until she woke up this morning immobilized.

Vanessa had a gift of discernment. Sometimes it wasn’t always a privilege to perceive things beyond what the natural eye could see. Something felt wrong or out of place. Since she could not put her finger on the likely source or severity of the problem, she did nothing. She. . .