Mt. Vernon Baptist Church sat between the library where I bought the drugs and Daniel's house. The small parking lot on the corner of Joyce and 23rd Street could hold fifteen cars. I parked next to a blue Hyundai. The building looked prehistoric, a perfect place for ancient ideas. Walls of layered stones and mortar make me want to crush everything they represent. I don't hesitate at the tall wooden doors because I know Daniel deserves my revenge. I take the ten steps into a foyer toward an entrance of stained-glass only hesitating because of my Nanny. She'd love this place. She'd love these people.
But I didn't.
Couldn't.
I shook off the sentimentality and marched up the blood red carpet that divided the small room in half. Everything in the place screamed for me to reveal every pompous secret these pretentious jerks had. A dozen wooden pews faced the podium. More than a handful of crosses―torture devices from centuries ago―were embroidered on cloth, others were made of shiny gold. A perfect place to crucify Daniel.
Nanny Bella had invited me to church hundreds of times, but I refused to go. Why should I? My parents made it clear religion wasn't important. As far as I was concerned, it all sounded very boring. Sundays shouldn't be wasted listening to one more unwanted lecture. Plenty of that in school.
A thirty-something guy looked up from the piano, "Can I help you?"
"Sure, I'd like to talk to the priest."
The man smiled at me, the way a dozen men I knew in San Diego smiled at me. "You mean the pastor?"
"Sure." Whatever. Did this jerk really think there was a difference to me? I didn't say it and based on his continued smile, the thoughts didn't fall from my mouth.
"Through there." He pointed at a set of double doors while focusing on my cleavage. "Third door on the right."
"Thank you," I smiled and winked. Let the games begin.
"Anytime." His grin widened. Men were so easy to read. But I wasn't here for him. I had other Christian fish to fry.
Straightening my clothes I enter the modern hall. Doors lined the white walls. My heart pounded. My palms were wet with sweat. The sound of my own steps tried to intimidate me. But I was here and I would do this. The third door on the right had a sign "Pastor's study."
I held a mouthful of air then tapped on the door.
"Come in," a voice shouted from the other side. I twisted the unlocked knob and went inside. A gust of warm air swept over me. Churches in my imagination were cold and sterile, like a hospital. And I thought the office of the head person would be sanitary. But this wasn't. It was cluttered and comfortable.
"Hello, I'm Pastor Gomez."
"Courtney." I shook his outstretched hand.
"What can I do for you?" The man had to be over six foot tall. By his name, I figured he was probably Mexican, but his skin wasn't brown but black and he lacked Nanny Bella's accent.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?"
"Sure." He waved his arm toward a chair across from him. I sank into the thick fabric as the pastor sat behind his cluttered desk.
"It's about someone in your church."
"Really, who?" He steepled his fingers together, but seemed genuinely interested in helping.
"Daniel Orbach."
"Oh, Daniel." The man smiled and nodded. This was good.
"So you know him?" I leaned forward. The cops will definitely investigate Daniel. It might even lead to an arrest and prison time. But that wouldn't be enough. It wouldn't be fair. Not if I had to go to jail too. No, I needed this nice, black, Mexican-named man to hate Daniel too. I needed this one last thing to balance things out. To make life fair.
"His family has been coming here for a few years. Very dedicated."
"He's not the clean-cut guy he pretends to be."
"None of us are."
Very funny. This wasn't a game, but I didn't say that. Instead I pressed on with my plan. "A few months ago Daniel asked me to help him do something illegal."
"Really?" This time the man leaned forward.
"Yes. He bought prescription drugs over the Internet. And then asked me to give them to his girlfriend. I shouldn't have done it, but . . ." I didn't want to tell this guy any more than I'd planned. Daniel's name was already linked to the drugs, but I really wanted him thrown out of his church.
"Why would he do that?" The preacher studied my face.
"We felt guilty."
"For what?"
"We were dating, Daniel and I─," I raised my eyebrow, "─intimate, if you know what I mean."
"You were having sex," he said matter-of-factly.
Whoa. I didn't think that would happen. Silence settled between us. The man rocked back and forth in his office chair for a minute. I tucked my hands under my thighs, trying to relax. The small space heater couldn't generate enough heat to cause me to sweat this much.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you're his priest."
"I'm not a priest, I'm a pastor."
"Whatever." Forget about titles, this jerk needed to be taking notes and making phone calls. A criminal attended his church.
"Shouldn't you give this information to the police instead of me?"
"Don't you want to confront him?"
"No. I'm not a detective or a licensed psychologist. If Daniel is actually doing what you suggest, then he needs one of those professionals. My job as a pastor is to pray for him and direct him on a better path."
Seriously? I shook my head. "So you're not going to kick him out of church?"
"No." The pastor looked stunned. "Why would I do that?"
"Because he's a drug dealer. He uses women for sex. He lies and cheats."
"Okay," he paused.
I fidgeted.
He leaned forward and put his hands on the desk. "Your confession brings two things to my mind."
"I'm not confessing."
"Sorry, I mean your revelation."
I crossed my arms. This wasn't going the way I thought it would.
"My first reaction is that, we still live in America. People are innocent until proven guilty."
I bit the inside of my cheek.
"Second, this church is open to everyone. If Daniel is guilty of all of those things, the justice system will address that and I highly recommend you tell them."
"That's it?" I exhaled a deep sigh.
"Third, this congregation will pray for both healing and mercy for anyone in such a bad situation."
"Look, I've done my civic duty." I stood up. This was pointless. "If you want to sit on this go right ahead." I left without waiting for his answer. What an ostrich. No wonder the world was so messed up.
I stomped out of the office and through the double doors.
"You okay?" The piano man hurried across the room to meet me.
"Not really." I was ready for everything to end. I didn't want to stick around here any longer. I was ready to confess to that stupid lawyer and make a plea deal. But I'd make sure I had one last hurrah! If I couldn't get the pastor to believe me. I'd make sure this musician did.
"Can we talk somewhere?" I placed my hand on the arm he put over my shoulder.
The man nodded. He followed me in his Hyundai to a local hotel bar. I didn't mean to sleep with him. That wasn't my goal. I only wanted to spread the rumor about Daniel. Instead, I committed one last bit of impulsive revenge which would forever connect me to the creepy piano man.
YOU ARE READING
The Center
Teen FictionHidden high in the Rocky Mountains, The Center houses inmates ages twelve to twenty-two. The experiment in reform isn’t without controversy. Blogs report students being tasered or tortured in a dungeon. Eighteen-year-old, Courtney Manchester doesn’t...