Read The Bride Experiment Online
Authors: Mimi Jefferson
The Bride Experiment (13 page)
“Young man, I don't know what God has planned for you, but it must be something big.” He had tears in his eyes. His entire body was shaking and big drops of sweat were on his forehead. “I can't explain how I was able to stop. It was like somebody else started driving. I just knew you were dead! I knew you were dead! I just knew it!”
Dozens of people were outside their cars, shaking their heads and talking hysterically into their cell phones. None of the crowd could believe what they had just seen. James knew it was only a matter of time before the police showed up. The truck driver was still in the middle of the street, pacing back and forth. James pushed on his gas pedal and drove off. Joan and the answers he needed were only a few blocks away.
Chapter 22
Joan opened the door and immediately gasped. She expected him to look bad, but not dead. He stepped through the door, and past her. Each step seemed more painful than the last.
She had a flashback of the last time she had seen him in her condo. He was lively and confident. This man before her now was heavy with pain; it seemed like it was consuming him more and more each minute. He put his hands on his face. Joan quietly walked closer to him. She hadn't seen him cry before. If he was crying now, she wanted to see it up close.
During the time she had been with James, he hardly showed any emotion. The angrier she got, the quieter he became. She shouted and cursed, and he calmly spoke. Even in the midst of unexpected circumstances, James never seemed to sweat. She hated him for it. She felt so misunderstood. James thought she was an overworked drama queen that needed to chill, and she thought he was a zombie that needed to react.
She sat on the sofa next to him. Those were tears falling from his face. James was quiet as he wept. Joan's first reaction was to reach out to him. But then in a voice filled with torment, James said, “It was all my fault, Joan. Everything was all my fault.”
Joan's eyes got wider and she reached in closer to James. He began to weep bitterly and his breathing became strained. Joan rushed to the bathroom and retrieved a box of tissues. When she came back, James was on the floor in a fetal position, rocking himself back and forth.
Joan rushed and knelt before him. She handed him a tissue. He took it, but he didn't wipe his face. He was trying to say something, but he was too overcome to speak. Joan rubbed his back as he continued to cry and rock.
“Momma, I'm sorry. Momma, I'm sorry,” James began to whisper over and over again. James turned his body and was now on his back. He stopped rocking and closed his eyes tightly. Joan watched as his chest went up and down as he breathed.
He pulled Joan's face to his. “I might as well have shot them both. I might as well have pulled the trigger. I might as well be the one in jail.” Joan didn't move, even though the grip James had on her was tight and uncomfortable.
James took a deep breath and let her go. “Joan, I'm sick. I have been sick for a long time. I'm not right, Joan.”
Joan tried to hide her shock. James's words matched his description.
“I got fired from my job because I was running after somebody's wife.” James Sr. stared at the ceiling. “Maybe that's why this all made sense to me.”
“What all made sense?” Joan asked.
“I had the kids tested. Miles had the kids tested for me. Alexis and Morrisâthey belong to another man.”
Joan's mouth dropped open.
“I just found out a couple of weeks ago. I wanted Raquel to pay for what she did to me. That's why I planned to leave her at the altar. But then all of this happened.”
James wept bitterly. Joan went to the bathroom and wet several towels with warm water. She returned and began to compress them on James's face and neck. James looked like he was going to start hyperventilating at any moment. After several minutes, his breathing returned to normal.
He took off the towel Joan had on his eyes. “I know this is going to sound funny coming from me, but I need to know what you think about something.” James hesitated for a moment. “What happens when you die?”
Joan's eyes gravitated toward the clock. Church was over. It was just time for the after-service fellowship to begin. Joan always brought the cookies. She wondered who was bringing the cookies today.
James voiced the question he had asked Joan in his head. “Joan, am I making you uncomfortable?”
“Oh no, James, of course not.”
“I mean, you do have a lot of Bibles and other things around this place. I thought religion was important to you.”
Joan shifted back and forth. “What was the question again?”
“What happens when you die? You know, heaven and hell. Who gets to go where, and why?”
Still, Joan said nothing.
“Okay, forget it.” James's voice dropped. “I guess there's just not any hope for me, huh?”
“No, James. It's just that . . . Why do you want to know?”
“I'm thinking of killing myself later on today.”
Joan laughed; then she realized James was dead serious. “Why?”
“Joan, don't you understand? Don't you see? I'm not fit to live, and I'm too scared to die. I need some answers, and I need them now.”
“But why do you want to die, James?”
“Let's see. My mother and brother are dead because of me. Raquel is in jail, probably for a long time, because of me. Alexis and Morris belong to another man. I still can't get my head around that. A few days after I found out, I started having panic attacks. Now I'm popping pills. I lost my constable job. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells and everything is caving in on me. I'm a sorry excuse for a man. I don't want James Jr. to be anything like me. So that's why I want to die. Everything, Joan, everything. I just don't want to be here anymore!” James shouted.
“I just want my life to be over. I don't want to be in this pain anymore.” James dropped to the floor again and started writhing like he was in pain. He was on all fours, rocking and crying.
Joan wanted to be somewhere else, talking to somebody else. She had never seen James like this. She had never seen anyone like this. She needed some help, but the only person she knew to call was her pastor. She was too embarrassed to call him, after the last conversation she had with his wife, Minister Makita.
James took a break from grimacing and pulled a large bottle of pills from his pocket. “I need you to tell me why I shouldn't take these pills and kill myself right now.”
With that, Joan picked up her cell phone to dial her pastor's personal cell phone number. She was one of the few church members to have it. Pastor Benjy gave it to her when she was working on a speaking project with him. She was careful not to pass it around or abuse it. When she needed to speak to him about most matters, she went through the church secretary, just like everybody else.
“Hello, Pastor, it's me, Joan.”
Chapter 23
Joan sat on the bench outside her condo, twirling her house keys and reading the news on her cell phone. She was doing everything possible to look like everything was fine in her world. Pastor Benjy left church and came directly to her condo to talk to James. He was up there now. Joan wanted to be sure she was outside to meet James Jr. when the church bus dropped him off. There was no way she could risk letting her son see his father this way.
Pastor Benjy didn't say anything the first few moments after he arrived to meet James. He simply sat on the sofa next to him, closed his eyes and bowed his head. If another man had sat this close to James, he would have been offended.
James couldn't help but smell Pastor Benjy's cologne, see his gold watch, his expensive glasses, and his freshly pressed suit. James still had on his tuxedo jacket, pants and shirt; each was badly stained. His feet were covered with flip-flops. He couldn't remember taking off the leather loafers he had purchased especially for the wedding.
All of a sudden, James wanted to bathe, shave, change his clothes, and put a few eyedrops in each eye. That's what his mother always said: “Look your best and nobody will suspect the hell you got buried up inside.” His mom was always good like that. She made sure she never looked like she was trapped in a loveless marriage and that Saturday nights were spent ironing her Sunday dress, rolling her hair, prepping for Sunday dinner, and wondering which woman her husband was with this time.
Pastor Benjy bolted off the sofa urgently. He looked around like he had forgotten something important. He had that protruding stomach over his belt that was common for men his age. The idea of walking around with a spare tire around his waist was what kept James in the gym five days out of the week. The chiseled six-pack of his teenage years was gone, but not by much.
“Do you want something to eat?” Pastor Benjy asked.
James started to laugh low at first, and then it hit a midway point. Before he knew it, he was chuckling and howling uncontrollably, like he was at a comedy show.
Pastor Benjy looked surprised initially, but then he reared back, grabbed his stomach, and burst out laughing too. He laughed until his stomach hurt and tears were running down his face.
After an unspecified timeâJames couldn't tell how much time went byâhis laughing dwindled down to silence. Pastor Benjy got the cue late and stopped laughing a few awkward moments after James.
James's eyes aimlessly wandered around the room, trying to remember what had brought on the outburst. He was waiting for something magical or profound to come out of Pastor Benjy's mouth, not “Do you want something to eat?” Here he was thinking Pastor Benjy was somehow going to make it okay, but nothing was ever going to be okay again. He was laughing instead of crying. He heard the pills rattling in his pocket.
“I hear your stomach growling. Let me find you something to eat.” At once, Pastor Benjy walked to Joan's refrigerator, looked around, then started pulling out items, one by one. James watched Pastor Benjy place bread in the toaster, wait for it to brown, then layer it with mayonnaise, cheese, and smoked turkey.
Then Pastor Benjy cut the crust off the bread and sliced the sandwich in two equal parts. He handed it to James, who had left the sofa and was now seated on a bar stool in the kitchen.
James saw that he would be eating alone, since Pastor Benjy started to clean up after making only one sandwich. James still hadn't bit into the sandwich after Pastor Benjy had put everything away. He couldn't take his eyes off him.
“Aren't you going to eat?” Pastor Benjy asked.
James bit into the sandwich.
Pastor Benjy looked at his watch, then said, “James, there's a story in the Bible about a crippled man who has been sitting, waiting for healing, on the side of a pool for thirty-eight long years. Jesus asked him a question: âDo you want to be made well?' The man didn't answer him at first. He offered a lot of excuses about why he had been beside the pool for so long. The excuses may have been very valid, but Jesus didn't want to hear any of that. He wanted an answer to his question.”
Pastor Benjy's cell phone rang. He looked down at the screen. “Oh, I'm sorry I got to take this. It's my son.”
He began to talk into the phone with a much softer voice. “Hey, I hate I missed your call. I called back but got your voice mail. I see. Well . . . you know how I feel about that house. I'll support you whatever you decide. Okay, do that. Think about it for a few days. Don't be in a rush to sign. I'll be in prayer for you. All right, son. We'll talk about it then. Love you. Kiss the girls and Nicole for me.”
Pastor Benjy hung up the phone. “I'm sorry. My boy is about to buy his first house. You've got to be careful.”
James nodded blankly and his mind wandered to the gentle way Pastor Benjy dealt with his obviously grown son. He bit into his lunch again and tried to remember if his father had ever made him a sandwich.
“I only talked to Joan a few moments, but I learned a lot about you. I know you despise Christians. I know that you believe that you know me and what I represent. I know that you are suicidal. I know that your brother and mother were just killed and you have a part in it. I know that you love women and sex, and both have gotten you into trouble many times. I know that you are in pain and you desperately want it to end. I know that this is the defining moment in your life. I know that the God of this universe sent me to you to ask this question.
“James, this is a âyes or no' question.” Pastor Benjy paused, then continued. “It is the same question Jesus asked the man who had been sitting by that pool and waiting for healing for thirty-eight long years. It was a âyes or no' question then, it is a âyes or no' question now.
“Today, a team of men and I are going on a three-week-long mission trip. I have been planning this trip for months. This morning, one of my men canceled, due to a family emergency. When I realized that God was opening the door for somebody to come instead of him, I began to pray. All morning and all afternoon long, I've been looking for God to show me who to take. After I talked to Joan about you, hours before we are set to leave, I knew it was you.
“I'm not going to promise you that Jesus is going to come into your heart and you are going to feel all fuzzy and warm inside. I've been in ministry too long to lie to you like that. All I ask is that you come on this trip with me. But only if you can answer yes to this question: James, do you want to be made well?”
James hesitated a moment, trying to find words to describe what he was feeling. “I respect and appreciate that you came here to see me today. I want to be honest with you. I don't know what I want to do next. A few days ago, the last person I wanted to talk to was somebody with âPastor' in front of his name.”
“And now?” asked Pastor Benjy.
“Now I feel like I've been hijacked from my life. I don't know if I want to be made well, or if I want to just sit by the pool and die a slow, cruel death. One minute, I'm glad that I'm alive, and the next minute, I wish I were dead. I just need somebody to talk to, somebody that knows about these things.”
“Most men I meet aren't very good at talking and expressing what they are really feeling,” Pastor Benjy said. “They are good at talking about cars, sports, work, and women, but not their feelings.”
“Most men didn't just find out that two of their three children belong to another man, that the woman they were about to get married to is the biggest liar ever, and that their mother and brother are dead. Most men aren't looking for reasons not to kill themselves.”
“This is true,” Pastor Benjy said. “What you said is good enough for me. Get your stuff and let's go.”
The thought of getting out of town sounded like a miracle to James. His aunt made it clear she didn't want him at the funerals. James didn't mind not going; he did not want to cause his family more pain. With all that had happened, he couldn't dream of going on what would have been his honeymoon.
He wasn't sure how he felt about Pastor Benjy or this mission trip. However, James was positive he needed to get away, clear his head, and escape into something different. Who knew? Maybe he could find a whole new life and never come back to Houston again.
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