“You never have to say ‘sorry’ to me because I go out of my way to make sure that you are.” Unknown
Stiles called Fancy to tell her that he was leaving out later that morning. The phone rung until it went to her voicemail. He left her a message telling her of his plans. “She’s probably gone to see Hezekiah,” he mumbled as he gathered the last few things he needed out of his office and prepared to go give a final goodbye to Kareena. He texted Fancy as he walked to Kareena’s office. “Left u a msg. leaving Houston in a couple of hours. Should arrive in Memphis around six.”
Khalil had decided rather than return Stiles’ phone call, he would wait to talk to the dude when he came to Memphis. His mother had told him about Stiles’ call to her a couple of nights before. He had his suspicions about why Stiles wanted to suddenly reach out and touch them. Things had been going rather well these past couple of months in his new role and Khalil didn’t want Stiles or anyone else interfering with his road to success.
He had plans to make several changes with the ministerial staff, deacons, and trustees. He had several younger men in mind, including Omar, the building engineer. He would share his plan at the weekly staff meeting the following week. Khalil wanted people surrounding him whom he felt like he could fully trust and who would work with him. Unlike his father, he didn’t want to take the chance of getting someone like that snake, George Reeves, on his team.
As for George, Khalil had recently learned that George was waiting to be indicted on charges of possessing child pornography. The man was definitely a sick, filthy pedophile. One of Khalil’s soon to be appointed young deacons worked for the prosecutor’s office. He told Khalil that George had been questioned many years ago by Chicago Police Department for sexual misconduct, but no charges were ever officially filed against him.
Khalil was just glad that he’d gotten rid of George. The only thing left for him to do was to make sure no matter how much his father’s health improved that Hezekiah McCoy never graced the pulpit of Holy Rock again. Whatever it would take, Khalil was ready to do to destroy his father’s life and legacy just like Hezekiah had destroyed Fancy’s trust. His mother deserved better. Khalil could only hope and pray that soon she would come to the same realization.
He went over his sermon notes, counselled a young couple who wanted to get married, had lunch in the church cafeteria, and then prepared to leave to go pay his father a visit. He hadn’t seen him since the man entered rehab, and he wasn’t looking forward to seeing him today either, but he had to do what needed to be done. As senior pastor, it was his responsibility to visit the sick and shut in as much as he possibly could. There were several other ministers who did the bulk of the visitations, but being that Hezekiah was his father, he owed it to the man to at least check in on him personally.
“Sista Mavis,” I’m leaving. I’ll return later this afternoon for Bible Study.”
“Yes, Pastor Khalil. Be safe out there. You know this city isn’t what it used to be.”
“Yes, ma’am. Have a good evening. I hope to see you tonight at Bible Study.”
“I won’t be back tonight. It’s my baby sister’s birthday; me and my other two sisters are going to take her out to dinner.”
“Okay, well enjoy yourselves. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Gnite.”
Khalil exited the church, walked to his car, got in, and drove off the parking lot and onto the street. He had driven less than a mile when he saw the flashing lights of the “Boys in Blue” as many people referred to the Memphis Police Department. This sight unfortunately was not uncommon but what made him take a second look was the car they had pulled over. As he slowed down with the traffic he took a concentrated look at the vehicle. He saw a young man, spread-eagled and leaning against the car that looked identical, including make and model to one of his father’s three cars. The doors and trunk of the car were opened, which immediately signaled to Khalil that the police were doing or had carried out a search.
“Man, I hate to see that kinda bullcrap. Been there done that,” Khalil said with empathy in his voice as he drove slowly pass. He looked back one last time and his eyes met the face of the young man they had against the car. He almost caused a collision as he quickly maneuvered to the far right lane and turned into the parking lot of a strip mall. He pulled his car halfway into a parking space, turned it off, and jumped out. He could see the young man’s face even clearer now. He ran the few yards that separated him from where the police had pulled Xavier over.
“What the…” Why would the cops be searching the car? Xavier was not one to do drugs. He didn’t know him to drink or do anything like that. He raced over to where they were.
“Hold up!” one of the big, white, burly cops said. Another police car pulled up around the same time Khalil ran up.
“That’s my brother,” Khalil yelled.
“I don’t give a….” the police said with an uncalled for expletive pouring from his thin red lips. “I said get back.”
Khalil knew that if he was going to get anywhere with this cop, he had to settle down and not show how pissed off he was.
“Officer, I’m sorry. I mean seeing my brother as I passed by, shocked me. I’m the senior pastor of Holy Rock, that large church about a mile up the street. I was passing by and noticed this is my father’s car. Can you tell me what happened?”
The police officer eyed Khalil up and down and then arrogantly said, “Drugs. Maybe you should have been preaching to him cause he’s about to take a ride downtown.”
“Drugs?” Khalil looked over at Xavier.
“I didn’t have anything, bro. I don’t know what they talking about.”
“That’s what they all say,” another officer said as he walked over to where Khalil and the first police officer were standing.
“You say this is your brother?”
“Yes, sir. My baby brother. That’s my father’s car. He was on his way to the church.”
“Guess he made a little detour ‘cause we found his stash, pulled him over for running the light. We detected a suspicious odor when we pulled him over.”
“I didn’t run that light,” Xavier said, turning his head and looking over his shoulder at the officer while still being pinned down against the car spread-eagled. “And I don’t know what kinda suspicious odor they’re talking about.”
“Shut up,” the officer holding him ordered loudly, followed by a couple of expletives.
“Hey, let the preacher boy see what his little brother is riding around with,” the first officer yelled to a third officer who was sitting in his police cruiser with his door open and one leg out of the car.
The officer raised up a mini-sized clear plastic bag filled almost to the brim with a white substance that looked like sugar. Khalil knew better than to think that it was sugar or salt; it was cocaine. What was going on? Had his father been doing coke and left it in his car? No one had driven that car since Hezekiah had the stroke. Fancy told Xavier he could drive it until he got a new car, being that his was totaled when he had the accident.
Khalil rubbed the top of his head back and forth and paced nervously as if trying to think how he was going to get his brother out of this bad situation.
“Hold tight, Xavier. Be cool. We’re going to handle this,” he tried reassuring him.
“Well, right now, we’re going to handle it,” the initial officer barked. “Get him in the car,” he said and the officers jerked Xavier and proceeded to all but drag him to the police car.
Xavier stumbled and they ordered him to get up. His arm was still partially bandaged, but the officers didn’t seem to care, they yanked and pulled on him without mercy. Xavier struggled to get up.
“Hey, there’s no need for all of that. He was in a recent accident. That’s why his arm is bandaged. Go easy.”
“You wanna take a ride wit ‘em?” one of the officers said, looking at Khalil with angry, black eyes that said he would do exactly what he wanted to. “Shut the….up!”
Khalil was furious but he maintained his composure. He knew far too well how police could go from zero to a hundred and things could turn real ugly.
“I said, get up,” the officer yelled as Xavier continued to struggle. It was difficult for him to stand up with two officers crowding his space. He had barely stood up when he went down again. One of the officers pulled out his club and hit Xavier on the thigh.
Xavier yelled out in tears. This was not looking good at all.
”You don’t have to beat him,” Khalil yelled.
“I said, you’d better shut up,” the officer yelled again and walked up on Khalil, poking a club in his chest. “Preacher boy or no preacher boy, you’re going to take a ride with him. I swear. As a matter of fact, get in your car and get outta here,” the officer ordered.
Khalil’s eyes grew bloodshot red but he turned and walked away. He looked back at Xavier once more. They were pushing him inside the police car. His brother looked like a frightened little boy as tears flowed heavily down his face. He was not meant for this; he wasn’t meant for it at all.
As Khalil approached his car, he opened the door and flopped down inside. Putting his head in his hands, he shook his head and then looked out toward the two police cars, one with his brother inside. He started his car and then drove a short distance to a parking space in front of one of the stores on the strip where he still had a view of the scene. His mind went into overdrive. Something wasn’t right. How could this have happened? Khalil waited in his car for the next half hour until he finally saw the police cars pull off. He revisited the thought about the drugs they said they found in the car. Like a lightbulb turning on, Khalil suddenly thought about the last person who had driven his father’s car. It was all beginning to make sense…George.
Khalil started the ignition and sped off the parking lot and headed straight in the direction of Dee’s house.