Live And Learn. Niobia Bryant

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СКАЧАТЬ to an end. The sound of the organist backing up his ever-increasing words followed me down into the basement level apartment that served as both his office space and parsonage.

      Using the spare key he gave me, I shivered in anticipation as I entered his domain. The door opened directly into the converted living room that served as an office for both him and the part-time secretary. A locked door—for which I had no key—led to the rooms farther into the apartment that were for his private use.

      I moved freely about the spacious and elaborately decorated room as the shouts, stomps, and organ music filtered down through the floor. Everything in his place spoke of wealth—a testament to the money he made from shitting innocent people.

      His wealth. His people. His flock.

      They paid for it all. The sprawling house in Maplewood. The Lexus. The tailored suits. The jewelry. The trips to the Caribbean. The cash he so generously gave me. All of it.

      Not that the Rev’s money was all that drew me. At first there was a lure associated with his position that I couldn’t resist. I enjoyed his heated hands and cold hard cash.

      I walked over to the mahogany Italian leather sectional in the corner. I remembered the day I lost my virginity and my faith on this couch.

      When Reverend DeMark mentioned to my parents that he wanted to hire some additional help to clean his offices, my parents readily volunteered my services; another testament to their devotion to God, their church, and their minister.

      They made the task seem like such an honor that I was actually nervous about doing it. I wanted his praise. I considered it the start of my paying tithes to my church. It wasn’t money, but it was my time, and at seventeen time was all I had to give.

      That first afternoon, I used the key my mother had proudly pressed into my palm and unlocked the heavy door leading into the office. I was shocked and surprised to find the Reverend sitting at his desk, his reading glasses in place on his long aquiline nose as he read from the leather-bound Bible open before him.

      “I’m sorry, Reverend DeMark. I didn’t know…I mean your car wasn’t out—” I stammered, edgy in his presence because I thought I made a mistake.

      “No, no, Latoya. Come in, come in,” he said, removing his glasses with a serene look on his face. “My car’s at the detail shop. It’ll be delivered when they’re done. I hope I didn’t scare you?”

      “I can come back another time—”

      “No, Latoya. You’re okay. Did you walk over from school?” he asked, leaning back in his chair slowly as he tented his fingers beneath his chin.

      “Yes, my daddy’s going to pick me up on his way home from work.”

      “Good, good,” he said, resting those deep eyes on me as I nervously stood there. “I was waiting on you.”

      “Yes, Reverend?” I asked, shy and nervous, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

      He had a way of looking at me that made me feel that way…shy and nervous.

      “God is good, isn’t he, Latoya?”

      I nodded, still standing in the doorway with one hand holding the knob and the other tightly grasping my book bag.

      “Come in,” he demanded, beckoning me with a bend of his fingers.

      Still clutching my book bag, I closed the door, my black pumps clicking against the ceramic tile as I walked over and stood before his desk.

      “Are you a good Christian, Latoya?”

      I nodded, my eyes locked with his, and said, “Yes, sir.”

      “Pure?”

      Flushing with embarrassment, I answered quickly. “Yes, Reverend DeMark.”

      He turned in his maroon leather swivel chair and stood suddenly, coming around his desk to stand beside me. He was so close that I could see the tiny flat mole near his mouth and feel his cool breath against my forehead.

      Anxious, I took an automatic step back and looked up at him.

      “Are you afraid of me, Latoya?”

      “No, sir,” I stammered, hypnotized by his eyes.

      Slowly he raised his hands and grasped my face. “You’ve grown to be a very beautiful young lady. Very innocent and…tempting.”

      I was a virgin, only pretending to be as cool and hip as my friends so that I would fit in. I didn’t know much about men, or even boys for that matter. Yet, I knew at that moment, as the Reverend continued to stroke me with his eyes, that he wanted to kiss me.

      I gasped slightly as my nipples hardened at the very thought of his lips on mine. Remorse and shame quickly filled me.

      “Do you believe that He is a forgiving God?” he asked, his voice strained as one hand moved down to my buttocks to press the lower half of my body close to his.

      I nodded, completely under his spell.

      As his head lowered and his warm lips met mine, he guided my shaking hand to his erection; I could only pray that He was indeed forgiving.

      The sound of the doorknob rattling brought me from the past with a jolt. I knew Reverend DeMark had a key, so either it wasn’t him or he wasn’t alone. With a quick look over my shoulder, I dashed into an oversized armoire.

      “Reverend DeMark, your words were truly inspirational.”

      My eyes widened into mini saucers at the breathy sound of Sister Rebbie Labelle’s voice. Curious, I eased open the door of the armoire just a crack and watched as the voluptuous woman, clad in a lilac suit with matching fur stole, sashayed past the Rev into the office.

      “I’m glad that you enjoyed the sermon,” he said, still standing with the door ajar.

      Her wide-brimmed hat was tilted to the side and covering part of her face, but nothing could hide the slick smile that spread across her face like butter. “This sure is a nice conversion of the basement into an apartment, but it needs…a woman’s touch.”

      I saw his eyes darting around the office, probably wondering where I hid. “I’m quite comfortable the way that it is actually. Uhm, I want to look over my notes before the next sermon, Sister Labelle. Is there anything else?” he asked politely, while pulling the door open wider.

      Sister Labelle pouted as she pranced back over to him, lightly swinging the gloves she carried. “If there’s anything I can help you with—and I do mean anything—just call on me, Luke.”

      I tensed at her use of his first name.

      With one last stroke of her hand against his cheek and a long, meaningful stare into his eyes, Sister Labelle finally took her leave.

      I waited until he closed the door and locked it before I left my hiding place. “It’s good to see you have so many willing servants.”

      He turned. Slowly he nodded as he removed his elaborate gold-trimmed robe.

      “Sister СКАЧАТЬ