Curtis raised the volume on his big-screen TV, slouched farther into the sofa, and sighed with much frustration.
He hadn’t slept peacefully in weeks. But he knew it was all because he’d been tossing and turning, night after night, trying desperately to dismiss the voice he kept hearing. It was a voice that demanded his return to the ministry.
For four long years he’d been trying to appreciate the fifty-thousand-dollar salary he earned as director of a delinquent teens facility, but it just wasn’t working. It wasn’t working because during his pastoral reign at Faith Missionary Baptist Church, he’d become completely accustomed to earning three times more than that—not to mention the thousands of dollars he received in love offerings. He could still remember how most of the members had worshipped the ground he walked on and how loads of women in the church had openly thrown themselves at his mercy. He’d tried to fight them off as best he could, but it wasn’t long before he’d given in to Adrienne Jackson, the wife of one of the deacons. Then there was Charlotte, who was all of seventeen when he’d first begun seeing her and only eighteen when she gave birth to his illegitimate son. But he regretted nothing the way he regretted being caught on videotape having sex with two women he didn’t know. He’d met them at a convenience store and taken them straight to a hotel, but what he hadn’t counted on was their setting him up to be blackmailed. Monique, his disgruntled church secretary, had masterminded the entire scheme, and Curtis had lost everything: his tax-free six-figure income, three-thousand-plus congregation, custom-built dream house, and, most important, his wife and daughter to another man.
Curtis cringed at his latest thought, and then returned his attention to BET’s morning inspiration segment. A world-renowned TV evangelist danced across the pulpit. Curtis had watched four others do the same thing every hour on the hour, and wished he could trade places with any one of them. He watched one massive audience after another rising to their feet, clapping, screaming, and giving high praises to God and the minister who was speaking before them. He watched so instensely that he was now drunk from all the excitement. These people on television reminded him of his own flock, the one he used to have, and he missed having them praise him in the same fashion. He missed the emotional high he always felt whenever he stood before his loyal congregation.
He continued watching the program and envied the evangelist, who wore the same type of suit he’d once worn himself. It had been a long while since he was able to buy anything that cost a thousand dollars, but that was finally about to change. He’d recently been approached by the deacon board of Truth Missionary Baptist Church. Truth was a church that had been founded by approximately one thousand of his former members, right after he was ousted. They were members who either hadn’t believed the rumors they’d heard about him or who merely felt that he deserved to be forgiven the same as anyone else. They’d approached him about being their leader back then, too, but he’d declined when he decided that he no longer wanted to preach. Now, though, their charter pastor had left and taken a position at a church in D.C., and they needed to replace him.
For two weeks Curtis had debated whether he should accept their more than appealing offer, but in all honesty, he really didn’t know how he could pass on it. They were offering him five thousand per week, his choice of any luxury vehicle, and a very respectable housing allowance—something he hadn’t been able to negotiate at his previous church because they’d wanted him to live in some modest church parsonage. They were even willing to overlook the fact that he wasn’t married as long as he found a wife within the first two years of his contract. But Curtis didn’t see a reason to wait that long and was sure that Mariah Johnson, the woman he’d been seeing for the past six months, would jump at the chance to marry him. As a matter of fact, she’d be perfect, because, unlike his ex-wife, Tanya, she knew her place. She was meek, mild, a bit naïve, and completely submissive. She was beautiful but didn’t know it, and the fact that she honored God and always tried to do the right thing wasn’t going to hurt.
Curtis thought about all the rewards he was going to reap and wondered why he was still somewhat hesitant. But deep down he knew what it was. It was his mother and the scripture she had quoted him over and over, whenever he spoke about his desire to be filthy rich. She quoted Mark 8:36: “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”
But the more Curtis thought about it, the more he realized that Mark 8:36 really didn’t apply to him. It didn’t apply because he had no desire to gain the whole world.
He only wanted a very small part of it.
The part that rightfully belonged to him.