The Choir Director (3 page)

I felt badly for Jackie’s wife, and part of me could understand why she reacted the way she did. You can imagine how devastating the discovery must have been for her, and, well, misery does love company. Unfortunately, her coping method left me with a huge problem on my hands. Word spread quickly, and within two weeks, the entire choir disbanded, even though Jackie had already been fired and was no longer attending the church. My wife and I had been trying to put it back together to no avail. I never knew how hard a choir director’s job was until then.

“Now we’ve got no choir,” I said as I finished summing up the turmoil we’d been struggling with. “Now, I’m a heck of a preacher if I do say so myself, James, but nothing goes better with the Word than music. Our choir has always been a cornerstone of our church. Putting my ego aside, wasn’t it you who once told me that half the people in the pews on Sunday were there to hear the choir and not me?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Well, from where I’m sitting, you’re sounding more and more like a prophet.”

“Man, I can’t believe something like this could take down the church,” Maxwell added.

“Neither can I. Plus, when you add that to the financial troubles we’re having, it’s like the perfect storm. To be honest, I don’t know what we’re gonna do. We’ve got a huge balloon payment on one of the church’s mortgages next year.”

“You’re right. Only thing that’s gonna save us is getting people back in the church. What about Savannah Dickens? Maybe we can get her to help,” he suggested. At one time, Savannah Dickens’s voice could light a fire in the soul of even the greatest
heathen. But like so many other things, that had changed too. She left the church to start a career singing pop music. It looked like she was going to make it, too, until she got hooked on drugs. She fell hard and she fell fast, and no one in the church had seen or heard from her since.

“Already thought of that, James, but it looks like Sister Savannah has lost her way to drugs. She’s not even a member of our church anymore.”

“I know what we have to do, honey,” Monique interrupted. “We have to hire a choir director. But not just any old choir director. We need someone young, someone so talented and so charismatic that he can put together a choir that will blow the roof off the church. This choir has to be so good that everyone in the borough of Queens will be fighting for a good seat in the pews just to hear them sing.”

“I understand what you’re saying, baby, but do you have anyone in mind? ’Cause I don’t know anybody like that.”

James snapped his fingers. “I do!” His sunken features suddenly looked a little brighter. “T. K., do you remember last year before I got locked up when we went to visit Reverend Sim-mons’s church in Jarratt, Virginia?”

“Mmm-hmm. What about it?”

“Do you remember his choir? There was only about ten of them, but they were some kind of good.”

“Yeah,” I said with excitement. “I remember. They had that young kid leading them with all the Kirk Franklin moves and the BeBe Winans voice. What was his name?”

We sat quietly for a moment, both of us trying to remember. James finally recalled it. “Aaron,” he announced with a smile. “His name was Aaron Mackie. And he’s exactly what we need.” He folded his arms. “He’s the total package, T. K. He’s got looks, charisma, and sex appeal in a church kind of way. There’s no doubt in my mind the boy could save our church.”

“Well, then, I guess I’m gonna have to go down to Virginia and have a talk with Mr. Aaron Mackie.”

“Yes! Yes! That’s it, Aaron! Make me sing, baby! Make me sing!” Sandra pleaded, but I paid her no mind. I didn’t even understand why she’d brought up singing at a time like this. This wasn’t choir practice, and even if it was, singing wasn’t her strong suit at all. So, no, I wasn’t trying to make her sing. I was trying to make her come, which is why I had her bent over my kitchen table, pumping my Johnson into her like I was drilling for oil. Nope, I didn’t want her to sing, but a few loud moans and groans would have been nice, and after a few more healthy thrusts, that’s exactly what I got.

“Oooohhhhh, Lord have mercy!” she finally screamed, making my own excitement that much more intense. A few strokes later, I did a little moaning of my own as I exploded and then collapsed on top of her, drained but satisfied. I had to give her credit—she might not have been able to sing, but Sandra sure knew how to please a man. I’d never been with a woman who made me feel that good on the very first time. Then again, she was full of surprises today, the first one being that she broke into my house after church, and the second one being that she was waiting for me on my sofa wearing nothing but her Sunday hat.

I have no idea how long I lay on top of her, but I could have stayed there all afternoon if it weren’t for a loud knock on my front door. I reluctantly lifted myself off of her and the table.

Sandra reached back, trying to stop me from exiting her. “You’re not going to answer that, are you?” She sounded offended.

“Nah, I’m just gonna peek out the window to see who it is.
Then we can continue our activities in the bedroom. I know I must have been getting a little heavy lying on you like that, and that hard table’s got to be uncomfortable.”

She gave me a smile as she slid off the table. “No, you and it were just fine. I’ve never done it on a table before, and I like doing new things. I love how spontaneous you are.” She stood up, and I admired her body. Those women in the rap videos didn’t have a thing on her.

“You were pretty spontaneous yourself. But if you think that was something, let me see who’s at the door and then I’ll be back to show you just how spontaneous I can really get.”

“I don’t know how you’re gonna top the kitchen table.”

“Oh, really? Have you ever done it on top of a washing machine on the spin cycle?”

Sandra shook her head, blushing. “No, but I’m willing to try anything. Tie me up and spank me if you want to. Baby, it’s been a long time since I had lovin’ this good, and I’m ready for everything you got.”

“My girl. Now, that’s what I’m talking about.” I grinned, chuckling to myself. It never failed. Most of these churchwomen were nothing but a bunch of undercover freaks. The more sanctified they claimed to be, the freakier they were when you finally got them in the bedroom.

Whoever was at the door knocked again, so I put on my clothes and excused myself. I walked into the living room of my two-bedroom house. My first guess was that the visitor was one of my other lady friends in search of some Sunday afternoon loving. I wasn’t married and made it very clear that I didn’t have a steady woman, so I wasn’t worried about any drama. But what I wasn’t prepared for when I peeked out the window were the two men standing outside my front door. One of the men I knew very well; the other seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on where I knew him from.

“Crap,” I said out loud.

“Don’t tell me it’s one of your women, ’cause I don’t do threesomes, and there’s only enough whipped cream for two.”

I turned to see Sandra standing in the doorway to the kitchen, as naked as the day she was born, with whipped cream smiley
faces on each of her breasts. And she had the nerve to call me spontaneous. I don’t think she would have been so damn spontaneous if she knew who was standing on the other side of my front door.

“No, but you might want to get rid of the whipped cream and put your clothes back on. Reverend Jenkins is outside, and he’s got someone with him.”

The color drained from Sandra’s honey-brown face as she went into panic mode. “Oh Lord! What’s he doing here?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, but they saw me when I looked out the window, so I gotta open the door.”

“Don’t you open that door,” she threatened as she ran frantically back into the kitchen. I could hear her scrambling to gather up her clothes, and a few seconds later, she was standing in front of me wearing only her bra and panties. As awkward as the situation was, I had to giggle, because her panties were on backward and she looked stupid as hell.

“I don’t see a damn thing funny,” she said with a pout.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her about her panties. I just pointed down the hall. “Maybe you should go hide in the bedroom.”

I didn’t have to tell her twice. She hightailed it down the hall in a flash. Although I was amused by the panties, the last thing either of us wanted was for her to get caught in my house, mainly because there wasn’t an excuse in the world we could come up with for why she was there, other than the truth that we were getting our groove on.

When I was sure that Sandra was securely hidden in my bedroom, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves, then opened the front door. I was greeted by Reverend Alfred Jenkins, a short, heavyset, light-skinned man in his early forties. He was the newly appointed pastor of our church, and technically, he was my boss. Reverend Jenkins was accompanied by a tall, stately looking, brown-skinned man with salt-and-pepper hair and a well-maintained beard. I still wasn’t sure where, but I was now positive we’d met before.

I halfway blocked the door, because Reverend Jenkins had a way of just entering your house without an invitation. “Hey,
Rev, sorry it took so long for me to answer the door, but I was half dressed. I was just about to jump in the shower and head up to Richmond.”

“No, no, Mackie. You don’t have to apologize. I tried to give you a heads-up, but you didn’t answer the phone, so I just came over. I wanted to introduce you to a good friend of mine from New York. He’s got a proposition he wants to run by you. You don’t mind if we come in for a moment, do you?”

I should add that Reverend Jenkins wasn’t one to take a hint, either, because most people would figure if you don’t answer the phone, you’re busy.

“Ah, well, sure, come on in. The place is a mess, but you’re always welcome in my house, Reverend. I hope you understand we’re gonna have to make it quick, though. I really have to get up to Richmond.”

“No problem. This should only take about ten, fifteen minutes tops.”

“Okay.” I gestured for them to come in and have a seat.

Reverend Jenkins’s friend sat down in the armchair, while the pastor and I sat across from him on the sofa.

“Aaron Mackie, I’d like you to meet my good friend Bishop T. K. Wilson of Queens, New York.”

When he said the name, it all clicked. “Bishop Wilson, I think we met a few years ago when Pastor Simmons was alive.” I offered him my hand and he took it. “You got a pretty big church up there in New York, don’t you? First Jamaica Ministries?”

The bishop smiled, nodding as we shook hands. “I’m impressed you remember my church.”

“Well, I’ve seen you on TV a few times, and I’m a choir director. Everyone in my field knows First Jamaica Ministries won the national choir championship three years in a row a few years back. It’s hard enough to win that championship one time, but three years in a row, that’s one heck of an achievement.”

“Well, thank you,” the bishop said.

“Y’all had Savannah singing for you back then, didn’t you?”

“We sure did.” He gave me a proud smile. “That young lady really could sing.”

“She sure could. You guys would have been unstoppable if she had stuck around. I saw her on TMZ last summer. It’s a shame what happened to her career.”

“It truly is, but that’s what drugs will do to you. I don’t know if we’ll ever see the old Savannah again. She blew a great opportunity … which is kind of why I’m here to see you.”

I raised my eyebrows. If this was going where I thought it was …

“We have a vacancy at First Jamaica Ministries, and I’d like you to fill it. I’d like you to be my choir director.”

I turned toward Reverend Jenkins. “Is he serious?”

He wrapped his large arm around my shoulder. “Yes, Mackie, he’s serious. But I’ve already told Bishop Wilson that you weren’t going anywhere, that you and I made a promise to Pastor Simmons before he died that we were going to take our church to the next level together. However, with the kind of money Bishop Wilson put on the table, I had to let you hear the offer for yourself, make your own decision. But I know you’re going to do the right thing.”

“Offer? What kind of offer are we talking about?” I turned back to the bishop.

“Aaron. Can I call you Aaron?” he asked.

“Call me Mackie. That’s what everyone around here does.”

“Okay, Mackie it is.” The bishop nodded. “Now, I heard your choir today. You guys were fantastic for your size. And, brother, let me tell you, you have one phenomenal voice.” The bishop gave me a huge smile of approval that made me proud.

“Thank you. Coming from someone like yourself, that’s a real honor.”

“How many people do you have in your choir?”

“About twenty today, but it varies. Five of them aren’t worth a dime.”

The bishop nodded his understanding. “What do you think you could do if you had fifty to a hundred members?”

I sat there for a second, imagining the possibilities as a grin spread across my face. “Man, I’d blow the roof off the church.”

He gave me a confident look. “I’m sure you would.”

“Bishop, I appreciate your confidence, but I’ve already got a job. I’m the choir director at Mount Olive.”

Pastor Jenkins tightened his grip on my shoulder. “That’s what I told him, Mackie.”

“I know that, but don’t you think it’s time you moved up from the minor leagues to the majors?” Bishop Wilson turned to Reverend Jenkins. “No offense, Pastor.”

The pastor gave him a sideways look but said nothing. I’m sure he was pissed off.

“I think it would be quite an opportunity for you. Here you only have about twenty choir members. If you come to New York, you would have your pick of two or three hundred voices. A young man like you could become a big star in New York, Mackie. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a national championship of your own next summer.”

“I’m just a country boy from Emporia, Bishop. What would I know about being a star in the big city?”

Of course, I was displaying false modesty. I’d always wanted to be a big star. I didn’t know a choir director who didn’t. I’d studied every choir I could. Heck, Kirk Franklin didn’t have nothing on me. To a huge extent, the bishop was right; I was stuck with a bunch of no-talent hicks, and look what I’d done with them. Man, if I had a real choir that I could handpick, there’d be no stopping me.