Michael Lister - Power in the Blood

“Your dad called in the middle of the night, and she answered the phone?” she asked in disbelief.

“She tried to wake me, but couldn’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. It was the first good night’s sleep I’ve gotten in over a year. That was until I was awakened to go to the scene of a murder.”

“If you slept like that, then this is serious, and I should have known about it.”

“It was just one of those things that happened. It almost all took place this weekend.”

“Your weekend was a hell of a lot better than mine,” Merrill said.

I shrugged. “It was a grace.”

“She really loves you,” Anna said.

“You don’t even know her,” I said.

“I wasn’t referring to Laura, but to God,” she said with a warm smile. Her eyes twinkled.

“I really love her.”

“And Laura knows that?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“You said that you saw Johnson on the tape. Was there anybody else on it?” Merrill said, changing the subject.

“Actually that is the only one I saw, and it was very short. Russ is what you might call a minute man. I thought maybe you would be willing to come over tonight and watch the others.”

“If it’s all men, I couldn’t do it. You know that,” Merrill said with an exaggerated shiver.

“I have no idea what’s on the other tapes.”

“Just the same, you better count me out,” he said still shaking his head as if to rid it of the mental pictures his mind was developing.

“Sounds like you may have some repressed or latent homosexual desires,” Anna said to him.

Merrill did not respond. He looked as if he had heard nothing.

“Are you saying this is a cultural thing, Merrill?” Anna continued. “Like, for example, heterosexual black men can’t tolerate even the thought of homosexuality, black men are more well-endowed, and they won’t perform oral sex on a woman.”

“Generally, I’d have to say those things are true,” he said.

“Well, I’ll help you review the tapes if you want me to, John,” she said.

“I hate to ask you to watch those things, but I’d really enjoy your company.”

“Okay, it’s a date. I’m a married woman going to a minister’s house to watch homemade porno tapes. Sounds like fun.”

“People gonna start calling you Jimmy Swaggart,” Merrill said to me.

I let that one go. “Let’s not call it a date,” I said to Anna. “And I definitely think that Merrill should have to join us.”

“Yeah, Merrill, you can’t break up the three musketeers,” Anna said to him.

“The three stooges,” he mumbled.

“Hey, Moe, so you’ll join us?” I said.

“I’ll come, but I’m not watching.”

Anna started to say something, and from her expression I knew what it was going to be. I held my hand up to stop her and said, “We better break up this little meeting before it degenerates any further. I’ll see you both tonight at six o’clock at my house.”

“Let’s make it seven. I need to eat first,” Merrill said, and with that we were walking out the door.

I went back to my office and ordered flowers for Laura. I had them write on the card, “The scent of peaches still lingers.” I also ordered flowers for her uncle’s funeral.

Next, I called her to see how she and the family were doing. Last night, or rather early this morning, she took the news exceptionally well. I first considered that she might be in shock, but later determined that she was genuinely okay.

“Hello,” she said.

“Laura?” I asked.

“No, this is Kim. Who’s this?”

“This is John Jordan. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. How are you?” she said.

“I’m good,” I said.

“Listen, let me grab Laura,” she said. “I know she’s dying to talk to you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I can just tell. She’s like spazzing out over you.”

“Thank you, Kim. That’s good to know.”

In a moment, Laura picked up another extension and, after Kim noisily hung up her extension, said, “Hey, you.”

“Good morning. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” she said. “Actually, I’m having contradictory feelings. Coming off the high of a wonderful weekend with you and then the shock of Uncle Russ’s death.

“How’s your mom handling the loss of her brother?”

“She’s okay. They weren’t real close. He was so weird. He was not really close to anyone that I know of. Still it’s a shock.”

Scenes from the video shown on the screen of my mind. He was very close with some people , I thought, but had the good sense not to say it. Instead, I said, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes. Could you come by after work?”

“I certainly will,” I said, and, though I never made it, I meant it when I said it.

I said good-bye and hung up just as there was a knock at my door, followed by Mr. Smith bringing an inmate pass in and laying it on the desk before me.

“Brother Chaplain, I think you better talk with this inmate. You need to hear what he need to say.”

“Okay, send him in.”

“Chaplain, I need to talk with you right away,” Jefferson Hunter said when he entered my office. Mr. Smith closed the door, and I motioned for Hunter to have a seat.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked.

“Chaplain, you know I ain’t down with the religion thing, and I really don’t like white people none much, but I got the four-one-one you need.”

“No matter what the information is, I cannot pay you for it in any way.”

“No, I know you wouldn’t. That’s why I’m here. You okay. They’s lots of mean sons a bitches around here, but you different. When my mother passed, you really helped me a lot and I remember that.”

“Thank you,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“Chaplain, you in trouble, in danger, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“See, they’s this dude what handles things for people on the ’pound. Now I ain’t gonna say his name, but I want you to know he come up to a small group of inmates. Some real badasses, you know. He say he got lotsa money for a hit. He say it’s protection on the ’pound and about three hundred in canteen. I never heard anyone offer that much for anything. Then he say who he want hit. It you.”

I was silent. I couldn’t believe it.

“It really surprise me, you know, because you the most popular chaplain we ever had. Everybody on the ’pound say you really care and shit. So when he say he want a hit on you, I just really couldn’t believe it. I thought you should know. But I mean, I ain’t no squealer or nothin’. I just doin’ you a solid like you done me when my moms was dying. So we straight, and you didn’t hear it from me.”

“We’re straight. And thank you. I know you didn’t have to do it. I appreciate it.”

“Just stay off the ’pound awhile, and watch your back,” he said, rising from his seat. And then he left.

No sooner had he gone than Mr. Smith knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

“Brother Chaplain, are you okay?”

“Yes, thank you. How much weight should I give to what he says?”

“About most things, an ounce to nothin’. But about this thing, a ton. He know what he talkin’ ’bout. He a bad dude. I still can’t believe he come up here and told you. You really liked on the ’pound. That’s why I can’t believe this is happenin’.”

I had made a deal with the devil, and I knew it would come back to haunt me. I knew better than to deal with the devil of course, but I didn’t feel as though I had a choice. I also didn’t realize that it would come back to haunt me quite so soon. But even as we sat down, I could hear the slithering serpent hissing my name.