Preacher Man

                                                Preacher Man



    The one thing that Preacher William Hale loved more than his bible was pussy. Just like his Grand Dad always said, there’s no such thing as a bad piece. Of course, being a man of the cloth and having a nookie habit presents a moral dilemma. If you lead a woman to the Lord, is it okay to screw her in the process? The end result justifies the means. That’s what William decided after the first time.

    Shea was a high school senior and worked at a neighborhood market after class. William, a fresh faced graduate from seminary school, lived in an apartment nearby. They became acquainted from his frequent forays into the store. Eventually, he swallowed his nervousness and asked if she knew Jesus. Twenty minutes later, alone in a dusty storeroom, he led her in the sinner’s prayer. Shea cried and hugged him. He tried to ignore the perfect breasts, grounding into his chest. Shea leaned back to tip toe and kiss him on the lips. William was shocked and tried to push her away but found his hands on her ass. She moaned and William committed adultery.

    He was devastated afterward. The fires of hell illuminated his path home. He was repulsed by his weakness and betrayal of God and family. It was a small blessing that the wife was away, tending a sick mother. He wouldn’t have to face her for a few days. As for God, they were eyeball to eyeball and no place to hide. Hours of tear stained prayer brought little solace. The only recourse was to resign his newly appointed post as assistant Pastor. Then, forever and a day, he could wander the desert of life, dragging the weight of his sin.

    God had other plans. The Sunday morning of William’s intended resignation was glorious and sunny. The birds were singing and butterflies flittering about the flowers. William could hardly raise his eyes as he entered the sanctuary. When he did, a miracle unfolded before him. Shea was standing against a wall, laughing and talking with church members. Through the stained glass, a shaft of light illuminated her blond tresses. She was glowing and radiant and….saved!

    William was saved as well. It was an epiphany from God! The end result does justify the means. He was anointed and appointed to wield the sword of righteousness. And wield, he did. He never divulged the transgression to his wife and kept Shea at arm’s length. When the young girl left the church four months later, he was secretly glad but knew that he would always have fond memories of their relationship.

    Twenty years later and William was still fighting the good fight. God had blessed him beyond measure. His congregation was the largest in town and their church building, the newest and best. He had a morning radio show and weekly column in the paper. A published author, he presided over the regional council of the Southern Freewill Baptists. More photographed than the Pope, not that a small southern township would have a gnat’s interest in any thing Catholic, William cut an imposing figure. At six foot four, he towered over his believers with confidence and authority. Square jawed with piercing blue eyes, he possessed a longish white mane, reminiscent of a modern day Moses. Unlike Moses, he eschewed the staff for the sword. William never stopped for one minute to consider that he who lives by the sword, dies by the sword.

    Thursday night is visitation night at Walnut Creek Baptist Church. Deacons assemble to pray before fanning out across the town in search of the lost, maimed, sick and needy. William doesn’t have to beat the pavement anymore but makes an appearance to pray for and send the workers forth. Of course, sometimes there are special cases that merit his personal attention. Tonight is just such a night. William checks the address on a visitor’s card and slips it into the pocket of his tailored suit.

    Della Roberts is a middle aged divorcee and new in town. She visits Walnut Creek for three Sunday’s in a row, speaks to no one and leaves quickly at the end of service. What intrigues William is that Della has a frank and direct way of looking at him. Every time he finds her in the pew, she is watching. William prays and God leads him to her driveway.
Della answers the door in a flannel shirt, jeans and painter’s hat. A splash of white paint adorns one cheek and she’s startled.

      “Preacher Hale! This is a surprise. I was just…doing some painting.” 

    “Forgive the intrusion but when the Lord speaks, I have to obey.”

    “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

    William smiled, “Obedience, Della. We’re all servants. May I come in?”

    “Of course. You’ll have to excuse the house, it’s a mess.”

    William was assaulted by the pungent aroma of wet paint as he followed Della inside. The tiny living room was strewn with tarps and unpacked boxes. A glass of wine sat beside a  paint can.

    “Could I offer you some coffee or tea?”  She asked. “We can take it in the kitchen. The smell is terrible in here, I tried to raise the windows but they seem to be stuck.”

    “Perhaps I can help and coffee will be fine.”

    William pried open two windows and paused to check his reflection. When he stepped into the kitchen, Della had the phone cradled between ear and shoulder while pulling sweet rolls from the microwave. He admired the way she filled out her jeans. She turned and caught him looking. The coffee pot gurgled, filling the space between them. Even as she hung up the phone, she held his eyes.

    “Would you care for a sweet roll?”  She broke the silence.”

    “Ah, temptation, the eternal battle,” he smiled and pulled up a chair.

    Della poured coffee and sat across from him. They chatted easily about small town life and the church. William ate three rolls before asking if she knew Jesus and was saved.

    “I’m comfortable in my relationship with God.”

    “But are you saved? There is a difference and I’m ordered by the All Mighty to ask. I know that you’re hurting, troubled and alone. The Lord wants to help.”

    Della stared at him. “I’m fine.”

    “At least let me pray with you.”

    She accepted his outstretched hand and bowed her head. William prayed, his voice filling the room. When he finished, he stood, holding onto her hand. Murmuring that God loved her, he pulled Della into his embrace. He backed her against the table and ground the sword of righteousness against her thigh.

    “Preacher, please!” Della pushed against him with force. “This is improper. I think you better leave.”

    “It’s not what you think. I was only trying to minister and….”

    “I know what you were trying to do. Just leave.”

    William held her stare and snatched his bible from the table. “I’ll pray for you.”

    “Maybe you better pray for yourself.”

    He had no answer for that and stomped out of the house. Fuming and reaching for his keys, he was standing at the car before noticing the girls. There were two of them, sitting on the curb smoking cigarettes.

    “Hey mister!” One of them called and they scrambled to their feet.

    William turned to face them. The taller of the two had close cropped dark hair with a narrow and angular face. She wore a sleeveless blue jean vest over a simple white tee shirt. Baggy jeans and boots completed the look. Her companion was quite the contrast. Blond curls cascaded around a pretty face. Her lips were painted red and matched her sweat shirt. The gray shorts were brief and tight.

    “We were hoping we could cop a ride.”

    “Cop a ride?”  William blinked at them.

    Miss red lips laughed, “She means, bum a ride. I’m Julie and this is Samantha. Everyone calls her Sam. We’re trying to get to the Wacky Taco, everyone hangs out there on Thursday night.”

    William stared at them. “Shouldn’t you be home doing school work?”

    “School sucks,”  Sam said.

    “I’m sure it does but listen, you can’t be running at night by yourself. It’s not safe. And never, never get into the car with a stranger. You should know that.”

    “Fine, introduce yourself and you won’t be a stranger,” Sam countered.

    William looked at her. “I’m Pastor Hale from Walnut Creek Baptist.”

    “That is so cool!” Julie shrieked. “My Mom listens to you on the radio.”

    “Yeah, that’s bitchin. So how about that ride?” Sam asked.

    “All right but no smoking in the car.”

    The girls giggled and ran for the door. William paused and looked back at the house. Thinking of Della sitting there with her paint fumes, he marveled that the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Damn straight! He ducked into the car. Both girls were in front with Julie in the middle. William buckled up and backed out of the driveway. He was three blocks away when Julie broke the silence.

    “So, you’re a preacher, right? I was kind of wondering if I could ask you something.”

    “God, Julie. Don’t start that again,” Sam butted in. “You worry too much, you know that?”

    “Well excuse me! I’m talking and it’s not against the law. Take a chill pill, why don’t you.”

    “Go ahead, Julie,” William said.

    She brushed the curls out of her face and stared at her lap. “It’s just that…well, I’ve always heard that…homosexuality is a sin. Right?”

    “Yes it is. Remember, God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.”

    The humor was lost on the young girl. Her face was screwed up with worry. “Well, suppose two girls were…lovers. Would that be the same thing?”

    William glanced at her. “What are you trying to say?”

    Julie bit her lip.

    “We’re lesbians, Preacher,” Sam answered and reached for Julie’s hand. “That’s what she’s trying to say.”

    “I see,” William said. “Homosexuality is considered a sin, regardless of the gender involved. The bible’s perspective is generally from a male’s point of view. I don’t think I’ve ever counseled two, uh…lesbians. It’s hard to imagine.”

    “Maybe it would help if we could show you,” Sam suggested.

    William stared at her. She was serious. He considered the possibility as he drove. God does move in mysterious ways. He drove to the edge of town and turned in at a seedy Super Eight motel. The stale room had two twin beds and heavy green drapes across the window. By the time he had closed the curtains and hung up his jacket, the girls had already wriggled out of their clothes. William pulled up a chair to watch.

    The girls were good. They pranced naked on the carpet, cupping their breasts and twirling to present luscious bottoms. William’s heart quickened when they began tweaking each other’s nipples. Sam pulled Julie into her arms, kissing her red lips. Julie sank to her knees, pushing her lover’s legs apart. William was shocked and hard as a rock. Sam’s face contorted when she came. William couldn’t contain himself anymore. He jumped up and tore off his clothing. The sword of righteousness sprang free. Sam opened her eyes.

    “Whoa, Preacher! For an old guy, you’re hot!”

    Julie turned her head, smiled and bounced to her feet. Both girls rushed into his arms. William tried to fondle everything at once. The girls laughed and pushed him backward onto the bed. Their love making became a tangle of arms, legs and body parts. The musk of sex filled the room as pleasure was given and taken. William felt as strong as a lion and wanted to go on and on. When the last throes of orgasm rocked his body, he collapsed, spent and sweaty.

    No one seemed to want to move. Somewhere in another room, the faint strains of a television could be heard. When William opened his eyes, he was staring into the face of Sam, lying next to him. Julie was draped across their feet, her arms hanging off the bed. She was the first to move, groaning as she rolled off the bed and searched for clothes. After dressing, she grabbed the ice bucket and left to get some drinks out of the machine.

    “Preacher, you’ve got some stamina for an old dude. Have you had threesomes before?”

    “This is my first time.”

    “Well, I think you’ve discovered a special talent.”

    “Thank you.”

    Sam smiled and got up to go to the bathroom. William stared at the mottled ceiling and thought about it. How could he have gone a lifetime and never considered multiple partners at once? Now he knew how Solomon felt. All those wives and there he was, right in the middle and loving every minute. Maybe God was opening a new door in William’s life. The notion of a polygamist lifestyle didn’t seem so farfetched at the moment. He’d have to pray about that.

    Julie returned and fixed soda and ice in little plastic cups. William was parched and drained his first drink. Sipping the second, he rested and let the girls talk. Finally, he got up to grab a quick shower. He lingered under the hot water and thought about the girls. Still buzzing with sexual energy, he wanted to stay but shouldn’t. At least he would leave them with a cell number if they needed future counseling.

I    t wasn’t until he was toweling off that he began to feel funny. His knees went weak and pain began throbbing in his temples. He tried to calm himself with deep breaths. A sickening dizzy feeling overwhelmed him and he lurched for the door, trying to make it to the bed. The room turned upside down and he fell into a bottomless darkness.

    Bright light split the room into glaring fragments. William opened his eyes and squinted against the intrusion. Dull pain throbbed behind his eyeballs and his hand seemed stuck above his head. He pulled again and felt resistance. Craning his head upward, he saw handcuffs around his right wrist. What the hell? A dark shape moved from in front of the window, allowing more light into the room. His eyes felt fuzzy as the shape moved closer, dragging a chair and sitting by the bed where he lay.

    “Della? What are you doing here?”

    She ignored his question and extended a small plastic cup of water. William found that he was incredibly thirsty. As he gulped, the cup triggered a memory of iced soda, then the two girls and a seedy motel room. He almost choked as he jerked forward.

    “Two girls….kidnapped me! They had a gun and….robbed me!” He gasped and closed his eyes against the pain. His heart was racing and thumping inside his chest.

    “Take it easy, Pastor Hale. Here, have some more water.”

    “Dammit, woman!” He slapped the cup from her hand.

    He lurched forward but his left ankle was handcuffed as well. Fighting and jerking wouldn’t free the restraints. Finally, he collapsed on the bed, gasping for air. Della moved her chair back out of harm’s way. She sat motionless, clutching her purse.

    “At least call someone. They’ll be looking for me,” He panted.

    She remained silent.

    “For the love of God, do something!”

    “I already have.”

    William looked at her. “Well…what?”

    “Ruined you. Unmasked you for the hypocrite that you are. Julie and Samantha? I hired them. For two hundred bucks, they’ll fuck anything. I hope it was worth it.”

    “What are you talking about?”

    “I have photos,” she dug into her purse and offered the evidence.

    William strained forward. He was passed out on the bed with his mouth hanging open. Julie and Sam flanked him, smiling at the camera while holding his limp sword. He hated his glorious white mane, mussed and sticking out in every direction.

    “You want money? We can work something out, just get me loose.”

    “The cleaning lady will find you after checkout time. I’ve a plane to catch.”

    “Why are you doing this to me?”  William yelled.

    “For my sister, Shea. Remember her? You guys met twenty years ago when she was working at the market. That was the last summer we ever had together. When Dad found out she was pregnant, he shipped her off to an unwed mother’s home in Atlanta. She and the baby died in childbirth.”

    Della stood and tossed the photo on the bed. William snatched and crumpled it.

    “I have plenty more,” Della said. “They’re in mailboxes all over town as we speak. Do you know what’s really amazing? Shea would never divulge the father’s identity. Twenty years I sat with her diary packed away in my house. When I found it, the whole story was there, every last word. Do you know what I call that?”

    William stared.

    “A miracle, Pastor Hale. An absolute miracle.”

    Della turned and walked out the door.