Nothing was going to happen. Octavia knew it; Landon didn’t. Smiling, she left him to his musings as she drove off the parking lot. A chime on her phone alerted her to Terri’s text.
Rolling her eyes, Octavia ignored it. She had already given her friend/mentor/play big sister/mother hen/crook in the neck an edited version of what happened while she was in the ladies’ room.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Landon’s head bob and then she heard a light snore. Poor thing. No doubt, he would appreciate a warm bed. In no time, Octavia turned into Jesus the Great Shepherd Church’s parking lot. It was bare, except for the janitor and members of the praise team’s cars.
She cut the engine and stared at Landon before nudging his shoulder. “We’re here. Ready?”
He snapped awake and grumbled, “No. Thanks for asking.” He got out first, and with a proud stride came around to her door and assisted her.
His persona was that of an heir to a fortune. Despite the present condition of his clothes, they appeared to be good quality fabrics. The question nagged her again. If God’s grace was tangible like clothes and shoes, when and where did Landon fall from it?
“So when was the last time you were in church?”
“A while.” Landon shrugged. “I haven’t kept track.”
That sense of humor again—Octavia was starting to expect it. Landon was easy to be around. She was comfortable. On a first date, she was usually guarded around a man, but this wasn’t a date. Still, she liked Landon—as a person, not boyfriend.
In the foyer, the pictures and plaques on the wall seemed to draw in Landon. “Those are from community outreach events,” she said, pointing at photographs of children at summer camp, vacation Bible school and an elderly health fair. She steered him inside the sanctuary where the other two praise dancers were talking in front of the pulpit. Landon went no farther than the back row, and he immediately took a seat.
Octavia waved as she approached Kai Kelly and Deb Beavers. The trio rehearsed once a month and danced every other Sunday.
“Who is that?” Kai whispered when she was within hearing distance, peeping over Octavia’s shoulder. Men didn’t go unnoticed at any church, including hers.
Although their church had an evangelistic and community outreach team that ministered to shelters and families, Octavia wasn’t sure how receptive they would be to Landon’s plight. She did a speed dial through her mind for an acceptable excuse. “That’s Landon. I saw him at one of my properties—” versus found him, she thought. “—and we chatted. He’s tagging along because we grabbed a bite to eat.” She exhaled. “Now, come on, Sister Nosey, let’s change so we can practice.” She looped her arm through Kai’s.
Kai wouldn’t budge. “Is he married? Children? Job? What kind of car? And yeah…saved? He looks like a hunk from here.”
Octavia shook her head. The two had had conversations in the past about men in the dating pool. Unfortunately, Kai was of the mindset that if the man didn’t make more, possess more goods and had a better paying career with a higher education level than her, then he was disqualified from the pool. Octavia always argued, “What about love?” but she never won with her.
Deb squinted at the back of the sanctuary. “He looks kind of suspect to me. Maybe he’ll look better in the light.”
I wouldn’t count on it. “Come on, let’s dance.” Octavia playfully nudged her. Landon Thomas definitely wouldn’t make the cut. In the back dressing room, Kai was like a mouse with a piece of cheese—she wouldn’t stop asking about Landon. “Listen, I’ll introduce you after practice.”
They changed, re-entered the sanctuary and poised at the altar as they waited for the engineer in the sound room to play the first of two of gospel songs by artist LaRue Howard for them to interpret in dance.
Shutting out everything around her, Octavia worked through the routine. If Landon didn’t feel the presence of the Lord through this song, then his bones were truly dry. “Lord, let him live again,” she whispered, referring to Ezekiel 37.
***
The sound of congas filtering through the overhead speakers reminded Landon of home. Reared in a musical family, everyone could either sing or play an instrument, many of them both. Only two people in his family played the congas, one being Jamal—Garrett’s nephew. The boy could put any adult to shame with his artistic ability. As the music crescendoed, Landon zoomed in on the expression of Octavia’s smiling face. It glowed as if God had dusted His anointing on it.
The ladies’ movements were as soft and effortless as ballerinas, and hypnotic. It didn’t matter that the preacher wasn’t on the premises. Landon’s spirit was fighting against the praise dancers’ overpowering message. He shivered when the artist repeated, “The Majesty is here…”
Without trying, his mind painted the picture of a faceless person sounding a warning alarm to announce the presence of royalty. As the music faded, Landon stopped squirming in his seat. Wiping his self-trimmed mustache, he didn’t realize he had broken into a cold sweat. He should get up and wait in the hall for her, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.
What am I doing here? He knew better than most that everyone that cried, “Lord, Lord, didn’t we do such and such in Your name,” wasn’t going to heaven. His family made sure every offspring of Moses Miller knew the consequences of Matthew 7:21-23. Although Landon didn’t want to go to the first death in hell, he couldn’t bring himself to live in a straitjacket, denying himself of the pleasures of the world. Why couldn’t he forget all those scriptures?
My yoke is easy! God’s voice seemed to walk through the pews toward him.
Landon shivered. “It wasn’t for me, Jesus.” He bowed his head. Who was more disappointed—him or God? Landon had exercised his free will, and God was wreaking havoc into Landon’s life for it.
I’ve given you relief from the heat while you are living. In hell, there is no relief. God’s words were forceful.
Looking up, Landon scanned around the sanctuary. Besides Octavia and her two friends, who weren’t paying him any attention, there was no one else in the sanctuary. The skin on Landon’s back seemed to sting as if he were shirtless outside in the heat of the day instead of inside the cool air of the church. Then the agonizing sensation lessened.
O taste and see that I am good and My mercy endures forever. Yet, hell exists for sinners who won’t repent. God’s whisper faded as if He were a breeze passing through.
And there lay his problem. He didn’t have it within him to repent—no desire, no conviction and no guilt. Landon was a third-generation Apostolic believer, yet he enjoyed playing the rebellious one against his cousin Garrett whom he had betrayed. Their parents often muttered that their relationship was like Esau and Jacob in Genesis 25. He often wondered if a backslider could truly be redeemed.
Landon needed a distraction from the whole praise dancing that was messing with his head. Sitting back, he stretched his arms across the back of cushioned seats that formed pews. He scrutinized the sanctuary that could easily accommodate a congregation of a couple thousand. A series of track lights were positioned overhead. The podium was of a clear material, simple and functional. A row of chairs for minsters was behind it. Greenery adorned the elevated baptismal pool waiting for converts. Clearly it was the centerpiece of the sanctuary.
When the music stopped and the lights dimmed, Landon thought the show was over. He exhaled.
“Landon,” Octavia’s voice breathlessly echoed from the stage, “how did we look?”
“Ah.” He struggled to his feet and leaned on the back of the chair in front of him. “Perfect.” He was ready to get out of there.
Folding her arms, her stance said she didn’t believe him.
“I think I was off,” the dancer with long braids said matter-of-factly. “Let’s go through it one more time.”
Of course, Octavia agreed, so Landon gritted his teeth and slid back into his seat. He endured two more practices without them asking his opinion. How long had they been at it? Wasn’t the sun setting soon? If his things hadn’t been locked in her car, Landon would get out of there and keep walking until he found a hidden cubicle to lay his head for the night.
Suddenly the music stopped. Leaning forward, Landon crossed his fingers and held his breath. Was it over? When the women disappeared from the stage, he exhaled. Countless minutes later, they reemerged. Octavia seemed refreshed from her gospel workout. The other two in the group followed her. He stood.
“Landon, this is Kai,” Octavia said, pointing to the woman with the braids, “and this is Deb.”
While Deb was the tallest and a looker, her smile was forced. Kai, on the other hand, had a pretty smile, and that was where the attraction stopped. “That’s nice of you to sit through our rehearsal. My husband doesn’t have the same patience.” Deb paused. “So Landon, what do you do for a living?” She scanned his wrinkled shirt.
“He’s in between jobs,” Octavia intervened. “If you and Cedric hear of any vacancies, pass it on to me.”
“Well, ladies, it’s getting late. I’ll be happy to escort you to your cars.” Landon released his killer smile, but if he didn’t get to a free dental clinic soon, he may lose a tooth to a loosened filling.
Kai beamed. “Thank you, Landon.” She dragged out his name. “One should never turn down security.”
“Or an iron,” Deb murmured, but Landon heard it.
An elderly man in work clothes met them as they were leaving the sanctuary. Clearly, Landon’s presence had surprised him. “Hello.” He frowned, then turned to the ladies. “You sisters truly have the gift of dancing. Let God keep using you. I didn’t want to stop the music.”
The unseen conductor, Landon surmised.
Thank you, Brother Jeffries,” Octavia said, then turned to him. “Ready?” she asked as if inviting a man to stay at her home was a normal occurrence. How could she leave the anointing behind? She was making it easy for him to seduce her, but something about Octavia made Landon want to be a gentleman, protect her and see her smile—all this in less than a day of knowing she existed.
Landon didn’t understand it as he escorted Kai and Deb to their vehicles before accompanying Octavia to hers. Once she was behind the wheel and strapped in, Octavia paused before starting the ignition. Landon wondered if she was having second thoughts about inviting him into her home.
He braced for Octavia to rescind her offer as he glanced out the window. It was probably for the best. She didn’t. Instead of playing the radio, she opted to hum the song she’d danced to numerous times. No doubt, he would hear music in his sleep, but who cared. He would be in a soft bed.
About thirty minutes later, Octavia drove into a neighborhood with overbearing trees. The bright street lights cast shadows against them. The block was a mixture of strategically placed apartment buildings between every couple houses. It worked in the overall landscape.
Parking in a driveway, she turned off the ignition and faced him. “Okay, we’re here. Get your things.”
This woman was too easy, too trusting and too beautiful. The temptation was too ripe. “I appreciate this, Octavia, but I hope you don’t pick up strays—” he didn’t like the sound of that—“I mean, don’t do this all the time,” Landon felt obligated to mildly scold her as if she was one of his two sisters, although he might be talking himself out of a soft mattress.
“I’ll never tell. Besides, what you consider as strays, in Luke 15, God calls lost sheep.”
Right, being led away for the slaughter. Can we forget the Scriptures? Landon clenched his teeth to keep from asking. After getting his suitcase, he turned around and scrutinized the building. As a real estate agent, he would have expected her to live in a classy house or pricey condo. Landon cleared his throat. Beggars couldn’t be choosy. “Hey, nice place.”
“Glad you like it.” Together, they walked the short path. Stopping at the door, she pressed the bell.
He frowned. Where were her door keys? Landon didn’t consider she might have a roommate. An older gentleman opened the door. She had said her father and step-mother relocated to Florida, so who was this guy? Landon squinted. The man didn’t look that old, even with his receding hairline and round stomach.
“Octavia, you’re later than you said—had me a little worried.” He scratched his head.
“Sorry, Brother McCoy. You know how I get carried away with rehearsal.”
Landon snickered.
Octavia cut her eyes at him before making the introductions. “This is Landon. He’s the one who needs a place to stay and the works.”
Why was he relieved and disappointed at the same time with her sleeping arrangements? “The works?” Landon repeated.
Brother McCoy smiled and extended his hand to Landon. “Yes. An assessment of your job skills and toiletries, underwear…” he continued talking as he led them inside.
Landon was well aware of the routine shelter evaluation upon entry. Landon had gone through the motions before at other places to update his résumé, but what was the sense of printing them out? He needed clean professional clothes, preferably dry cleaned, a rental car with a GPS and a list of companies hiring upper management. If he couldn’t earn the six-figure salary he once enjoyed, he could manage with seventy thousand minimum. Who was he kidding? At the present, he would be happy with a map and a bicycle.
With the last one hundred dollars in his pocket, he was running out of options. Half of it had come from a stranger who reminded him of his grandfather. Along with the money, the man gave him a business-size card with no name, no number, just a prayer printed on it. Landon had actually prayed that day with tears in his eyes, thanking God for the handout.
Although Landon needed steady income, he would probably be working for free. Of all the things he learned from his family, financial responsibility stuck. If he created a debt, he believed in paying it. Shamefully, he had filed bankruptcy, but some judgements the court wouldn’t dismiss and honestly, Landon wanted to be held accountable. What a mess he had made of his life. No doubt, garnishments would attack his first paycheck like locusts in a wheat field. With the way his luck was going, he might remain in poverty for decades to come.
“Thank you, Brother McCoy, for finding space with short notice,” Octavia said and turned to Landon.
She took his hand and squeezed it. Hers was soft. Octavia’s lips parted as if she was about to say something, then changed her mind. Instead, she nodded, then headed for the door.
Landon frowned at Brother McCoy. “Give me a sec.” Still holding onto his suitcase, he hurried out the door and caught up with Octavia before she got in. “You know, I thought you were taking me to your house.”
Her smirk turned into a harmonious laugh. She winked. “I bet you did. You’re welcome.” She got in and drove away.
Staring at her fading taillights, Landon shook his head. “She played me.”