with him. Besides, I’ve never seen a man who could perform like he did this past Sunday. He puts Jackie Moss to shame. He was a hair shy of being magnificent. If I ask him to take less money, I might as well tell him to stay home.”
Smitty glanced over at the other men in the room. “Maybe that’s for the best. None of us feels this is a good idea, Bishop.”
“Speak for yourself.” Maxwell finally interjected himself into the conversation. “I stand with the bishop on this. The only way we’re going to increase revenue is to bring people back into the church. A good choir can do that.”
“We don’t see it that way, Deacon Frye. What we see is the bishop recklessly spending money we don’t have. Now, as I tried to explain to you earlier in the conference room, we’ve already got the votes needed to reject hiring this Aaron Mackie.”Smitty’s eyes never left mine. “You fight us on this, Bishop, and you might be the one looking for a job.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, Bishop, I’m not threatening you. I’m making you a promise.” He sat back in his chair with a smug expression.
“Well, then, I guess we don’t have anything else to talk about, do we?” I stood up and gestured toward the door, letting them know I was ending our impromptu meeting.
Tia
6
“Please, listen to me very carefully. I need you to get out of the house. It’s not safe. Get out now.” Although the words I was saying were very serious, I tried my best to say them calmly. After all, I needed to make sure that I kept the woman on the other end of the phone calm.
Every time the phone rang to the church’s rape hotline, my stomach always did flips. I never knew what to expect. Every call was different, but every woman on the line was the same. I knew that no matter what the circumstance or the situation, ultimately, that woman was me. That woman was who I was and where I had once been in my life: a victim.
Not only had I been a victim, but I walked around with a degree of guilt as well. A part of me always felt that what happened to me, my own rape, had somehow been my fault. After all, how many times had my brother warned me about my lifestyle?
No, I wasn’t some country girl who went off to college and lost her mind, engaging in drinking, drugs, and sex with any-and everybody. As a matter of fact, I had had a steady boyfriend. Unfortunately, he was the one who did all the drinking and drugging.
Don’t get me wrong. He wasn’t all out there like that. He drank at the frat parties and smoked a little weed every now and then, but only when he had a major test coming up or something. He said it relaxed him, and he did his best work when he had a buzz. Now, I’m not advocating the use of marijuana on college campuses—or anywhere else, for that matter—but I kidyou not, that fool got an A every time. Any other time, he was an average C+ student at best. So there had to be something to it.
My college boyfriend was a sweetheart. I loved him so much. I would have done anything for him. And I did. I lost my virginity to him. And as far as I know, the drinking and the drugging he did with other people, but the sexing, now, that he only did with me.
It didn’t matter to my brother, though, that I thought the world of my boyfriend. My brother couldn’t stand him. He would always warn me that he wasn’t my type, that he wasn’t the kind of man I needed. He hated that my boyfriend indulged in college nightlife the way he did. My brother—who never even finished college and worked at Pep Boys—felt that my boyfriend wasn’t good enough for his little sister.
“Tia, that ain’t even you, going to parties and hanging out and stuff,” my brother would complain. “Girl, you didn’t even go to homecoming or prom, but now I hear you at parties, backing that thang up. That fool is trying to turn you out. With that clown, you gon’ end up someplace you don’t want to be.”
My brother’s words always went in
Smitty glanced over at the other men in the room. “Maybe that’s for the best. None of us feels this is a good idea, Bishop.”
“Speak for yourself.” Maxwell finally interjected himself into the conversation. “I stand with the bishop on this. The only way we’re going to increase revenue is to bring people back into the church. A good choir can do that.”
“We don’t see it that way, Deacon Frye. What we see is the bishop recklessly spending money we don’t have. Now, as I tried to explain to you earlier in the conference room, we’ve already got the votes needed to reject hiring this Aaron Mackie.”Smitty’s eyes never left mine. “You fight us on this, Bishop, and you might be the one looking for a job.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, Bishop, I’m not threatening you. I’m making you a promise.” He sat back in his chair with a smug expression.
“Well, then, I guess we don’t have anything else to talk about, do we?” I stood up and gestured toward the door, letting them know I was ending our impromptu meeting.
Tia
6
“Please, listen to me very carefully. I need you to get out of the house. It’s not safe. Get out now.” Although the words I was saying were very serious, I tried my best to say them calmly. After all, I needed to make sure that I kept the woman on the other end of the phone calm.
Every time the phone rang to the church’s rape hotline, my stomach always did flips. I never knew what to expect. Every call was different, but every woman on the line was the same. I knew that no matter what the circumstance or the situation, ultimately, that woman was me. That woman was who I was and where I had once been in my life: a victim.
Not only had I been a victim, but I walked around with a degree of guilt as well. A part of me always felt that what happened to me, my own rape, had somehow been my fault. After all, how many times had my brother warned me about my lifestyle?
No, I wasn’t some country girl who went off to college and lost her mind, engaging in drinking, drugs, and sex with any-and everybody. As a matter of fact, I had had a steady boyfriend. Unfortunately, he was the one who did all the drinking and drugging.
Don’t get me wrong. He wasn’t all out there like that. He drank at the frat parties and smoked a little weed every now and then, but only when he had a major test coming up or something. He said it relaxed him, and he did his best work when he had a buzz. Now, I’m not advocating the use of marijuana on college campuses—or anywhere else, for that matter—but I kidyou not, that fool got an A every time. Any other time, he was an average C+ student at best. So there had to be something to it.
My college boyfriend was a sweetheart. I loved him so much. I would have done anything for him. And I did. I lost my virginity to him. And as far as I know, the drinking and the drugging he did with other people, but the sexing, now, that he only did with me.
It didn’t matter to my brother, though, that I thought the world of my boyfriend. My brother couldn’t stand him. He would always warn me that he wasn’t my type, that he wasn’t the kind of man I needed. He hated that my boyfriend indulged in college nightlife the way he did. My brother—who never even finished college and worked at Pep Boys—felt that my boyfriend wasn’t good enough for his little sister.
“Tia, that ain’t even you, going to parties and hanging out and stuff,” my brother would complain. “Girl, you didn’t even go to homecoming or prom, but now I hear you at parties, backing that thang up. That fool is trying to turn you out. With that clown, you gon’ end up someplace you don’t want to be.”
My brother’s words always went in
Similar Books
