“Your dad gave a def sermon this morning,” Charlie Kenton said
He stood next to Sharleen Sparks at the sink in the basement of the New Apostles Church. After the morning service he’d come down here with her and a few other volunteers to pitch in on the church’s weekly Sunday dinner for the poor and homeless. The sink was old and rusted, the big gas oven battered and scarred, but both did their jobs. The linoleum floor curled up in the corners, the old tin ceiling flaked here and there, but a spirit of love and giving that Charlie sensed around him made it all feel new. He’d just peeled his way through the first half of a bushel bag of potatoes; his fingers ached but he didn’t mind at all. It was for a good cause.
“Yes, praise God,” she said. “He was in rare form today.”
Charlie glanced up from the potato he was peeling to steal a peek at her, wondering what to say next. Had to say something. He’d been waiting for a chance to talk to her alone, now he had it and his mind was flatlined. Maybe it was her beauty, inside and out, or the fact that she didn’t seem to know she was beautiful.
She had corn-rowed hair, huge brown eyes, and a smile
that made his knees go gumby. She was wearing a white T-shirt under her loose denim overalls, the bib front doing a poor job of hiding her full breasts. He tried not to look at them.
He’d never been this tongue-tied before his conversion. Back in those days he’d been some kinda playa, ragged out in chains and silk, always stocking a little powder and some boo-yaa weed. The women he called bitches and bizzos back then painted on their clothes and faces, wore wigs and big jingly zirconium earrings. Not one thing real about them, but they was easy. He’d sidle up to one, offer a taste of this or that to get her loose, mack her up and down with a few sweet lines, and soon they’d be heading to his place or hers.
He shook his head. A life of sin. But he had the rest of his life to make up for it.
“Sharleen,” said a deep voice, “do you mind if Charles and I have a few private words?”
Charlie Kenton looked up to see Reverend Josiah Sparks, a big man whose black face was made all the blacker by the mane of white hair and beard that wreathed it. He’d just arrived after trading the clerical suit and collar he’d worn at the service for a work shirt and bib-front overalls like his daughter’s.
Sharleen gave Charlie a concerned look. “Oh, um, sure Daddy.”
After she’d moved away to one of the stoves, the rev peered at him through the thick lenses of his rimless glasses. “Have you given more thought to the matter we’ve been discussing?”
“Yes, Rev. Every day.”
The Reverend Sparks took up a knife and began quartering the peeled potatoes, then throwing the pieces into a pot. Eventually they’d be boiled and mashed.
“And what have you decided?”
Charlie hesitated. “Nothing definite yet.”
“It’s your soul that’s at stake, son. Your immortal soul. How can there be even an instant of indecision?”
“There wouldn’t be … if Lyle weren’t my brother, know’m sayin’?”
“It matters not that he’s your brother. He’s leading you into sin, making you an accomplice in his evil. You must break off from him. Remember, ‘If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, for it is better to enter into the kingdom of God with one eye, than have two eyes and be cast into hell fire.’”
“Word,” Charlie replied.
“Yes, it is. The Word of God, spoken through Matthew and Mark.”
Charlie glanced around. Sharleen was out of earshot and no one else was nearby at the moment. The rev was keeping his voice low. Good. Charlie didn’t want the whole congregation to know his problems. Especially Sharleen.
Sometimes he wondered if he’d made a mistake in opening up to the rev about Lyle’s spiritualist act. The man now saw Charlie as a member of his flock in danger of losing his salvation, and he was determined to save him.
“But what about Lyle’s soul, Reverend? I don’t want him in the everlasting fire.”
“You told me you’ve witnessed to him, is that correct?”
“Yes, many times. Many, many times. But he just ain’t hearin’.”
The reverend nodded. “Your words are seed falling on rocky ground. Well, you must not give up on him—never give up on a soul in need—but you must not neglect your own salvation. You must make sure your own soul is safe before you try to save your brother’s. And to do that you must renounce his evil activities.”
Charlie looked away, bristling. Reverend or not, no one should talk about his brother like that.
“Lyle’s not evil.”
“He may not appear so, but he’s doing the devil’s work. Jesus warned us against his sort: ‘Beware of the false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves.’”
Charlie felt a hot stab of anger. “He’s not a wolf, Rev.”
“Son, you must face the fact that he’s leading souls along a path away from Jesus, he is doing Satan’s work. And as long as you’re with him, you are an accomplice. You must first remove yourself from his influence, then you must strive to counter his evildoing. The best way to do that is to lead him to salvation.”
Charlie stifled a laugh. Lead Lyle? Ain’t nobody never led Lyle nowhere.
“That last part won’t be easy.”
“Do you want me to go speak to him? Perhaps I—”
“No!” The knife jumped and Charlie almost cut himself. “I mean, it’s better if he don’t know I been jawin’ ’bout him. He won’t like no outsider mixin’ in, know’m sayin’?”
So far Charlie had kept Lyle’s location from the rev. Didn’t want anyone in the church connecting him to Ifasen the spirit medium. That was why he’d joined a church in Brooklyn instead of Queens. The weekly ride on the subway was long, but worth it.
“Then it’s up to you, son. I’ll be praying for you.”
“Thank you, Rev. I’ll need those prayers, because leaving’s gonna be so hard. First off, he’s blood, my only brother. I’ll be breaking up all that’s left of the family.”
What Charlie couldn’t explain, because he was sure Reverend Sparks wouldn’t understand, was that he and Lyle were a team. They’d been a team since Momma died. Lyle had scammed the Man to keep them from being split up, got them onto the government cheese to keep them from starving, and they’d been scammin’ the world ever since. After Lyle had gone to such lengths to see that they stayed together, how could Charlie look him in the eye and say he was splitting?
And something else Charlie couldn’t tell the rev, something dark and guilty: he liked running the game. Loved it, in fact. He loved piecing together new gags to wow the marks. When a sitting went according to script, when all the bells and whistles were working, it was so def. Lyle would have those people in the palm of his hand, and Charlie would know he had a big part in putting them there.
Times like that he felt stoned, better than stoned, better than he’d ever felt back in the days when he was doing coke and weed.
But for the sake of his soul he was going to have to put all that behind him.
And do what?
That was the question. What else was he good for? Maybe work in the theater doing special effects? He couldn’t list any experience so he’d have to start off as an apprentice at the bottom of the pay scale and work his way up … to what?
Nothing he could do in the straight world would ever touch the high he got from working with Lyle.
With Lyle … that was the real kicker, that was what made it real. The rev said he and Lyle had to part. And they’d never been apart.
But Reverend Sparks was right. For the sake of his soul, and to deserve Sharleen, he was going to have to make the break. And soon.