Is the Bitch Dead, Or What? (15 page)

Ritz hadn't thought of the potential danger she was in until now. And that was only a fleeting thought as she headed into the elevator to see her aunt. She thought about the things her mother had said to her, and how truly sorry she was to allow her ego to stop her from apologizing to her aunt. Aunt Maddie was right. Ritz had gone too far. She just didn't want to hear it. Whatever was wrong with Aunt Maddie, Ritz vowed to herself to be there for her.

Ritz was wheeled off the elevator, entourage in tow, and was led into a room two doors away from the elevator. It was a quiet floor; Ritz noticed that immediately. When she came, her aunt was sleeping. Uncle Cecil was in a chair next to the bed. He appeared to be nodding, too. The first thing Ritz
noticed was that her aunt was bald. She hadn't put on her wig. She was too weak for vanity.

“Hey, Unc,” Ritz whispered, not wanting to wake her aunt. “How's she doing?”

Uncle Cecil was a little startled. But he popped right up.

“She's resting, and that's good,” he said. “The coughing fits keep her from sleeping. But the doctors gave her something that pretty much knocks her out.”

“So what's the prognosis?”

Cecil hesitated. Should he tell her, or should Maddie tell her?

“It's not good, Ritzy,” Cecil said. “I'm going to let your aunt tell you.”

“Why won't anybody tell me anything?” Ritz whispered, but it was an angry, screaming whisper. “Uncle Cecil, please tell me what's the matter with Aunt Maddie! Please!”

Madalyn stirred from her sleep. She opened her eyes and saw Ritz at her bedside in a wheelchair.

“Hey, baby girl,” Aunt Maddie croaked.

Cecil saw this as an opportunity to leave the two alone together.

“I'm going to the cafeteria to get a snack,” he said, kissing Madalyn on the forehead and then bending over to kiss Ritz on the cheek. “I need some air. You two behave.”

Madalyn smiled and Ritz playfully rolled her eyes.

“Auntie, what's up?” Ritz asked when they were alone. “What's going on?”

“I'm sick,” Madalyn said.

“I can see that,” Ritz said. “But before you tell me, I want to say something to you.”

She got closer to the bed. She could smell the hospital smell, the disinfectant, the medicinal odors that somehow Ritz couldn't smell in her own room. She hated hospitals. She had avoided them her whole life. Now she was a patient and a visitor.

“I love you, Aunt Maddie. And I am sorry for hanging up on you and saying those mean things. I didn't mean it.”

“Oh yes, you did,” Maddie said, managing a smile.

“Okay, I did mean it. But I never meant to hurt you,” Ritz said.

“Yes, you did, too.”

“Okay, okay. You know me too well, don't you? But you know I never wanted us to go more than a year without talking. That was my fault. But you're pretty stubborn, too. You could have picked up the phone.”

“I could have. And I probably should have, because I am more mature than you are.”

Maddie smiled, then continued. “You'll be just as ‘mature' when you're my age, child. I assumed you would call when you were ready to talk. I wasn't going to push you. You needed that time to feel your way.”

Ritz stared at her.

“Yeah, I felt my way, all right. Right into a hospital room, shot full of holes. That's my excuse. Now, what brings you here?” she asked, reaching up and rubbing the smoothness of her aunt's head. “What happened to all of your beautiful hair?”

Maddie had had beautiful hair. It was her pride and joy. “Good hair,” black folks liked to say about any hair that a comb could run through without getting stuck.

“I have cancer, Ritzy. They ran some tests yesterday and found that it has spread to my lymph nodes.”

“What?!” Ritz screamed. “What does that mean? You're going to be all right, aren't you? There is something they can do, right? I've got the money, Auntie M. Do what you have to do. Buy whatever you need to get better! I'll pay! I'll pay cash!!”

“Ritzy, it doesn't look good, but I'm okay with it all. I didn't take care of myself the way I should have. I was stubborn. I guess that runs in the family. I thought my strength could just whip this thing. I was wrong.”

Ritz winced. Did all of the worrying about Ritz contribute to her aunt's deterioration? Maddie looked terrible. Ritz needed to feel empowered, in control. She had money. She could make sure that her aunt got the best care money could buy. She would make it all better.

“Where is your doctor? I need to talk to someone about this!”

“My doctors in Virginia have been in constant contact with the doctors here,” Madalyn said. “Everybody's doing the best they can.”

“We're going to beat this, Auntie. I know we will. Look at me. I was supposed to be dead. Now they are talking about releasing me this week. When I get out, I'm going to throw a party or something, and I want you there.”

“Forget all of the partying,” Madalyn said. “Focus on a full recovery and don't worry about me. I'm in good hands. I have Cecil. The doctors have been wonderful. Tracee has been here for me.”

“Tracee knows?!”

“She figured it out. And when I ended up here, it confirmed what she already thought. She's been great.”

Ritz didn't say anything. She was jealous that her friend knew more than she did about her own family. Ritz was insanely jealous that Tracee in the last year had developed a better relationship with Ritz's aunt and uncle than Ritz herself.

“There is so much going on, so much to talk about,” Madalyn said, then stopped. She wanted to tell Ritz about Randolph Jordan and her father, but one thing at a time.

Madalyn hoped there would be time.

Edwin was less nervous, less apprehensive than he had been last week. But the feeling of uncertainty still weighed in his soul. This Sunday would be the real litmus test of his forgiveness. The reporters and curiosity seekers would be gone, leaving Faith Baptist with its real congregation. There were already some who had walked out, saying they would never return. Deacon Templeton left for good, saying he couldn't be part of a church with a “fudge packer” for a pastor. He said he wasn't one of those “faggy Episcopals.”

“Anyone who stays is going straight to hell with him,” Deacon Templeton said before he stormed off.

Edwin understood the confusion. He just couldn't understand the anger and the venom. There were a few others who left, more out of embarrassment than hatred. Those folks had been coming to church for appearances. They loved being a
part of Faith Baptist when their pastor was featured in newspaper articles and was on the cover of Ebony. They loved being part of something that everyone was talking about. They tolerated Edwin's come-as-you-are policy, which let people show up for church in jeans or a T-shirt. They even tolerated his outreach to the prisons and the halfway house he built, which brought “another element” into the church. But this latest scandal was the last straw.

Their leaving was addition by subtraction, the way Edwin saw it. He was glad to see them go. His philosophy was that the only folks he wanted in his church were folks who wanted to go to Heaven— and if he was left with only two congregants, he would build from there. That was God's will, as he said last Sunday:

“The Lord Jesus left us with two commandments. Those two commandments cover all of the rest. And they are to love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, all thy soul, all thy mind, and all thy strength. The second is to love one another as Jesus has loved you. Now, with all you have heard this morning and over the last few days, if you can't love me and love this church, then you should not be here.”

Edwin had purposely thrown down the gauntlet. What was revealed about his previous life on Ritz Harper's radio show was not just a test for Edwin. It was a test for his growing church and everyone in it. It was a test to see who was really there for show and who was there “sho 'nuff” for God.

“This experience will separate the wheat from the chaff,” Edwin said.

He prayed in his sanctuary as he did every Sunday. When he was done, he buttoned his shirt, tightened his tie. He left his robe hanging. He had decided the previous week that he was going to shake off the covering and come to the church without the pomp and circumstance, the royal garb, and all of that. He was but a sinner who wanted to become a saint.

But he was just like his flock, and he was going to show that a simple man can overcome anything and do the Lord's work.

Edwin walked out of the sanctuary and took his seat near the podium as the choir, the deacon, and the prayer leader performed their Sunday duties. He looked out at the crowd to survey what was left of his congregation. There were a few more empty seats than normal. His mother sat in the front row— her head held high, as always.

Mother Lakes, who had helped found the church with her husband, had been Edwin's rock. She and Edwin hadn't spoken much since “the event.” But they didn't have to. Mother Lakes was a prayer warrior. She was a spirtual battler. She was vanquishing Edwin's enemies behind the scenes. And she was there for him. She was always there for him. Seeing his mother gave him comfort.

As Edwin scanned the other faces in the congregation, one was still absent— his wife, Patricia. He had called her every single day since Ivan Richardson had exposed him to the world. He called her every evening. She was staying with her mother and spending a lot of time at Kim's, too. Kim was one of the few women in the church to befriend Patricia, who
was ostracized by the jealous single women because Edwin had chosen her to be his wife.

Patricia wouldn't speak to him, but she was big enough to let him speak to his kids. His boy only wanted to know, “Daddy, when are we coming home?”

“I don't know, son,” Edwin said.

“Can you stay here with us, then?”

“No, son. But I love you. I'll see you soon. I promise.” That was all Edwin could say.

It was a promise that wasn't up to him to keep. But he would keep it, indeed. His God would see to that. He understood Patricia's pain, her feelings of betrayal, but she couldn't keep him away from his babies.

Kim would take the phone and tell Edwin that Patricia wasn't ready to talk. Kim had been with her in the car, listening to the radio, when that man told the world everything about Edwin's secret past. They were having a “girls' day out,” complete with spa treatment, lunch, and shopping. It was a rare time of fun for Patricia, who had a hard time making friends as the pastor's wife— especially when just about every single woman in the church had had their dibs on the very handsome, very elegant Edwin Lakes.

But Edwin chose Patricia, which made the women who wanted him— which was just about every one of them, single and married— green with envy. Patricia had poured her energies into being the perfect wife, the perfect church matron, the perfect mother. Kim befriended her and convinced her to start taking some time for herself. Ironically, on the day
she finally did so— on her girls' day out— the whole day turned dark. Patricia felt more than betrayed. She felt like her entire life with Edwin had been a lie. She couldn't talk to him until that feeling subsided. She wondered if it ever would.

For Edwin, being without Patricia felt worse than being dead. She was his best friend, his confidante, the only person with whom he shared everything— well, almost everything. He was not just lonely, he was lost. The only place where he felt remotely like himself was in the pulpit.

He stood, ready to give his sermon.

He began his sermon with a parable about a fish:

“In nature there is a fish called the Pardachirus marmoratus,” he started. “Don't worry, there will not be a test on this later. It took me two days to practice pronouncing it. It is called the Moses Sole— s-o-l-e— as in the sole fish, not your soul from heaven. It is a small fish found in the Red Sea, the same Red Sea that Moses parted when he led his people out of Egypt. Now, what's so special about this little fish? Well, it swims in some dangerous waters, among sharks, who would just love to gobble him up.

“Now, God is a genius. He created perfect balance and perfect harmony in his universe. He armed this fish, the Moses Sole, with protection. When in danger, the Moses Sole can secrete a milky, poisonous substance that can render a shark temporarily paralyzed. This tiny fish can take out a big, murderous shark.

“We, too, have been armed with a paralyzing poison— but it is poison only to those living outside of the will of God.

It's called God's Word. See, we have Jesus's Soul— s-o-u-l— inside of us. And we can render Satan and his minions paralyzed. We have been given the power of prayer, which can stop the devil in his tracks. We have been blessed with the truth, which will set us free.

“Now, last week, I stood in this pulpit and spoke the truth to you. I see there are quite a few who found that truth to taste like poison, and so they aren't here today. I'm sure that to them the poison from the truth tastes real nasty, too.

“I want to thank those of you who stood by me during these rough times. I love those who are not with us. But I really admire the strength and the courage of those who are here, to build this church and grow God's kingdom. I love you. Let's stay prayed up, let's stay in the Word, and let's keep in touch with Jesus' soul that is within all of us. We have to swim together and protect each other. Never forget: The sharks are always hungry. The sharks are never satisfied.”

Then Edwin made a call for the altar. He asked anyone who was struggling with a problem, or who needed comfort, or who had a heavy heart, to come to the altar for prayer.

Tracee Remington got up. She needed to pray for Aunt Maddie, for her health and for God's will to be done. She also prayed for Ritz. She wanted to pray for Ritz's spiritual healing so Ritz could find her way to God.

Randolph Jordan went up, too. Tracee had called him the night before, inviting him to the service. He had gladly accepted her offer because he had so much on his heart.

He needed to confront his father about his father's thirty-
plus-year-old lie without hurting his mother. He also had to meet his sister… again. He needed prayer for the fantasies he had about having sex with his sister. Granted, when it happened, he didn't know she was his sister. But now that he did, he was disgusted with himself. He was disgusted with the whole situation. He cried on his way to the altar. Randolph wasn't the only man crying at the altar.