Read Shattered Dreams - (Behind Closed Doors - Book 1) Page 12


  Izaiah was behind the wheel of the Jeep Wrangler, which Gregory had gotten for his use while he was on the island. He glanced at Asia in the passenger seat and smiled. He knew her question was just a stepping stone to get to the real thing that was on her mind. Nevertheless, he decided to indulge her.

  “Well, I don’t know – is there a ‘special’ way I’m supposed to feel?”

  “You see? That’s the problem I have with you,” Asia said. “You never answer a question without beating around the bush.”

  “Now, is that any way to speak to your superior?”

  Asia looked at Izaiah sideways. “You had better be joking with that, because it’s that kind of mindset that’s gonna get you tossed into the same boat with my father. I despise men who have an inferiority complex.”

  “Ouch!”

  “And no, that doesn’t mean that I despise my father.”

  “I wasn’t going to ask you that,” Izaiah said. “Relax, I was only teasing you.”

  To keep the air amicable between her and Izaiah, Asia decided that it was best to remain silent. So for the rest of the drive to St. Elmo’s Valley, she was careful not to allow Izaiah to engage her in any meaningful conversation. Her mind was somewhere else anyway. She needed to stay focused, and come up with a successful tactic to see Jorge. It would be difficult with a team of neophytes swooning around her, but Asia believed she could pull it off. If she had swayed Mother Daphine, who was one of the most suspicious women Asia had ever met, she could run circles around Izaiah.

  ****

  When Asia and Izaiah arrived in St. Elmo’s Valley, the remaining members of the youth team were already there. Izaiah was quick to organize their efforts, dividing everyone into three groups of fours. Asia didn’t think it was a coincidence that she had somehow ended up in Izaiah’s group.

  “Remember,” Izaiah advised. “We are not here to argue about what we believe. The gospel is the ‘good news’ of Jesus Christ, not a platform for us to condemn anyone. But with love and patience, let us present the message in a way that will appeal to the heart. Do your best to avoid contentions.”

  “I like that,” a young man said. “But I heard St. Elmo’s Valley is barren ground. It’s hard to get people to come to church.”

  Izaiah smiled as if he’d heard that line a thousand times. “Well, that’s why we are bringing the church to the people. Some folks have a preconceived notion of attending church. Our job is to break down those barriers with the love of Christ. It won’t be easy, but God’s grace will accompany us.”

  Izaiah studied the faces of the young men and women that were gathered around him. Some appeared eager to get on with the mission; some appeared to be nervous wrecks. Izaiah was quite experienced in evangelistic work, but he tried not to appear impervious to other people’s fears. Witnessing could be daunting, especially for first timers. However, with his tender supervision, he hoped to make the experience a smooth transition.

  “Now, do any of you need a brief summary on soul winning? I know we just went over quite a bit of it last evening, but I don’t mind if you still feel unsure about something.”

  “Well, why don’t we just walk around and give out the tracts? Do we have to engage the people in a conversation about salvation?”

  “No, it’s not mandatory that we strike up a conversation about salvation,” Izaiah said to the young man. “As a matter of fact, many times I simply introduce myself and say the church I attend. You would be surprised to know how effective that can be. People love meeting people. Other times, I feel led to just be myself. I talk about sports, music, cars, movies, but I try not to lose focus on the reason why I’m visiting with that person. But we should rely solely on the Holy Spirit for direction. And one of the ways the Spirit leads is through prayer. If there aren’t any more concerns, I would like for us to hold hands and offer a prayer for guidance.”

  Asia held the hand of the person next to her, but she couldn’t stop staring at Izaiah. He sounded so mature and in control. She admitted that that part of him was very appealing. She hadn’t attended any of the soul winning classes that Izaiah had held at the church, simply because she felt as if she was above such foundational knowledge. But now she suddenly felt out of place. She couldn’t remember the last time she had talked to anyone about her faith. Asia was convinced that Izaiah was somehow aware of that fact and was only summarizing last night’s lesson for her benefit.

  As the team concluded in prayer, Asia slipped back into her calculating mode. She had to find Jorge and talk to him before the mission was over. The problem was, how was she going to elude Izaiah when he was trotting so tightly on her heels? Asia breathed in deeply to calm her anxious soul. Maybe this was more than she’d bargained for. There was no way she could have the privacy that she and Jorge needed, except to break away from the group. Her mind scrambled for the best possible solution.

  Izaiah soon directed his team to a washed out, wooden structure, which seemed to be leaning to one side. He climbed up three rickety steps, which led to the front door. He knocked and waited to see what would be revealed behind door number one. A frail-looking woman, who appeared to be in her mid-seventies, pulled open the door and stuck out her grey-covered head.

  “How are you?” Izaiah greeted cordially. “We are from St. Donovan’s Chapel…we’re just in the area to get acquainted with our neighborhood friends –”

  “Well, good,” the old woman cut in. “It’s ‘bout time somebody visit us from the church. What you say your name is?”

  “Izaiah Cahoon…and this is Peter, Sonia, and Asia.”

  “I won’t remember any of ‘em,” the old woman laughed. She turned slowly, rocking from side to side. “Come, come…follow me, chillen. I’ll make you some bush tea…you like bananas and cod fish? I have plenty in the pot.”

  Asia immediately felt her stomach heave in response. She pulled on Izaiah’s hand to get his attention. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” she whispered. “I think I’m about to pass out from repulsion.”

  Izaiah grinned. “And here I’m thinking that you’re such a tough cookie.”

  “Well, I’m not! I can’t go in there…I don’t do bananas and cod fish.”

  “You don’t have to eat it,” Izaiah said, ditching the merriment in his voice. “I’ll do the talking. You just follow my lead.”

  “Why don’t you and the others go and I’ll stay outside?”

  “Won’t work, Asia.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you are the bishop’s daughter and everyone will think that I’m giving you special treatment. You know how young minds behave. It won’t be long before everyone says that you and I are involved in a relationship.”

  Izaiah had a point, but Asia believed that he was simply making a show out of nothing. They didn’t need her. She only agreed to come along on this mission trip because she wanted to see Jorge. She was the bishop’s daughter, alright. She did not need to fall in line with everyone else. However, despite her defiance, Izaiah’s piercing stare was enough to get Asia to pick up her steps. She sat next to him on a sofa that looked as if it had been baptized in mud. The floors were black with shoeprints and the air reeked of stale food.

  Asia could have handled that, because she was quite familiar with the conditions of the area, but when the old woman placed a bowl of mashed bananas, mixed heavily with minced cod fish in front of her, her stomach flipped to her throat. The presentation was a slimy version of overcooked oats. Asia looked at Izaiah in horror. The other team members were looking to Izaiah as well, conjecturing their next plan of action. Luckily, they did not have to wonder for long, because what came next would be their cue to leave. Asia suddenly keeled over, and vomited all over Izaiah’s black leather shoes.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “This is Hartlin Bodie with 91.2 FM and I want to extend gratitude to our listening audience who've been calling in with their questions and expressing their opinions over the weekly fifteen-minute segment with Rev
. Frank Dubbin. If you are joining us for the first time, please feel free to call in with your opinions and let me know what your views are on what Rev. Dubbin has dubbed, the 'mystical realm of secret societies'. I would certainly love to hear from you…”

  Gregory moved his eyes from his laptop and let them rest upon the radio that was on the desk in his office. The volume was turned low, but he contemplated turning it off completely. Frank Dubbin was quickly becoming a household name in Bliss Haven, but not for the reason Gregory deemed appropriate. He wondered how a conservative gospel radio station could stomach such sensationalism. But Gregory admitted that Frank Dubbin had a way of pulling his audience into his crazy little mind. He demanded to be listened to and Gregory hated that about Dubbin, because as much as he wanted to turn the radio off, instead, he found himself turning up the volume.

  Dubbin began by quoting 1 Timothy 4:1, “‘ Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils. Speaking lies in hypocrisy, having their conscience seared with a hot iron’. The Apostle Paul said that the last days will be marked by certain dangers, which are accurately foretold as the danger of apostasy, the danger of deception and the danger of false teaching. We should not be confused as to whom this scripture is speaking. The Christian church has been infiltrated by evil men, who are teaching doctrines of devils and trying to subvert the gospel of Jesus Christ.”

  “Wait a second, Rev. There are those who may think this all sounds like a conspiracy theory...I am not trying to bash your opinions, because we all are entitled to –”

  “Mr. Bodie, this is not an opinion,” Dubbin interrupted. “The book of Jude confirms the truth of our times. And I quote... ‘there are certain men crept in unawares…ungodly men, turning the grace of our God into lasciviousness, and denying the only Lord God, and our Lord Jesus Christ’. This tells me that many of our churches have been defiled through the deception of the enemy. And may I dare say that many pastors and bishops and people with prestigious titles in the ecclesiastical arena have departed from the faith, and have given heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of devils.

  “Preachers are committing adultery and other sexual sins at an alarming rate and they think this is okay. They say God’s grace is sufficient to cover their weaknesses and then do little to live free from such sins. But the Apostle Paul said, ‘Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound? God forbid. How shall we that are dead to sin, live any longer therein?’

  “Let me warn you, my Christian brothers and sisters,” Dubbin continued fervently. “Beware of such cults that teach errant doctrines. There is nothing godly about believers joining forces with these demonic secret societies or incorporating ‘another’ gospel apart from what Jesus and the apostles taught. As I have said before, it is impossible to be dedicated to two masters at the same time. If God be God, serve Him, but if Satan is your master, then serve him and stop straddling the fence. What shall a man give in exchange for his soul?”

  For the second time Gregory attempted to shut the radio down, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to do it – even though he was silently seething with anger. He just sat there as the words of Frank Dubbin began to break down the walls of resistance to his heart. He thought that side of him had been long buried, along with his pesky conscience. But it seemed as if all it took were the right words, with the right amount of power to uncover the little light of truth that had been left. But isn’t it too late for me? How can I change what I have done when I’ve helped to destroy dozens of lives? Furthermore, my wife would never forgive me for all the pain I’ve caused her. What’s the use anyway? I am in too deep to get out.

  Despite the battle that raged on within him, a strong sense of conviction began to descend upon Gregory – similar to what he had once felt in his earlier days as an up and coming preacher when he knew he had done wrong. He felt the first set of tears settle at the bottom of his eyelids. So comforting was the feeling that he leaned back in his swivel chair and allowed the tears to crawl down his jaw. He was spiritually, emotionally and physically drained – just plain tired of trying to keep up the appearances on all fronts. The radio rolled on and so did Gregory’s tears.

  “So, Reverend, let us talk about this mystical realm of secret societies,” Hartlin said, continuing with the last segment of the interview. “The last time you were in the studio you said that Christians need to become more educated about what is happening around them. You said Christians are too tolerant of sin.”

  “And I stand by that, Mr. Bodie. In relation to everything I’ve said, these secret societies are taking the sacred things of God and are making a mockery out of them. They use scripture, holy sacraments and biblical lingo to hook their recruits. I can see how a new convert could get confused. But I expect better out of a seasoned Christian.”

  “Reverend, what do you think would be the reason why some ‘seasoned’ Christians would fall prey to what you are describing?”

  “Simply put, Mr. Bodie, too many of God’s people are consumed by their lust for fame, wealth and power. It is from this platform the devil is able to set up shop and wreak havoc in the body of Christ.”

  Gregory suddenly stood to his feet, feeling as if he was being suffocated by an unexplained presence in his office. Fresh air was what he needed, just enough for him to breathe. He grabbed his car keys and made his way out to the driveway. The nearest beach was two miles away. There he would take a swim, hoping that when he returned home, his mind would be unclogged. Maybe he had allowed too much of Dubbin’s dogma to get the best of him.

  But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness: and all these things shall be added unto you.

  – Matthew 6:33

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Anwar hugged the sidewalk and tried to appear inconspicuous to the natives in this section of Bliss Haven. It was his fourth time in two weeks and he had to admit that the sensual atmosphere was becoming quite addicting. He’d been given basic-level entry and if he wanted to continue climbing the ranks to deeper ‘truths’, he was instructed to obey strict orders at all times. Be faithful and prove himself worthy of success. He was also advised that one slip up could cost him dearly. He would be immediately ex-communicated and possibly killed if any of the organization’s secrets were leaked. It was a bargain made with the devil, but Anwar was willing to do practically anything to get through the gates of prosperity.

  At a quarter to seven, he crossed the street to what appeared to be a gated community. He pulled out a small, black pamphlet from his pocket, which contained information he would need to gain access to the property. Even though the security guards had recognized his face from previous visits, he still wouldn’t be let in without the two-sentence password. It was what was required of him, especially because he was still considered a newbie. Newbies, as Anwar understood, were placed on a three-month probation and did not immediately inherit all of the perks that came with such a powerful secret organization. He had to be tested, proven beyond a shadow of doubt that he was worthy to be fully inducted.

  Nevertheless, Anwar’s name was quickly being promoted within the secretly held gatherings. His magnetic features, along with his gallant performances, had awakened a new stream of wicked attractions. And, even though Anwar wasn’t quite aware of his burgeoning fame, he knew he was well-liked by the clients. It hadn’t taken him long to adjust to his new surroundings, which was a plethora of lust, wealth and beauty. Getting his fingers properly wedged into its abundance would certainly bring about a change in his financial status.

  When Gregory introduced Anwar to this ‘business’, he did not flounder in his decision to take Gregory up on it. The money being offered was more than Anwar would see in a year if he continued working with Jorge. Suddenly, selling jewelry for a living had become a bitter offense to his soul. That day at the swim club when Gregory handed him his business card, Anwar wasted no time using it. He went home, at
e supper and then went out to find a pay phone. Somehow, Anwar sensed that Gregory held the answers to his life-long dream of becoming financially independent. Gregory answered the phone and was incredibly excited when he found out that Anwar had taken the initiative.

  “You are serious about changing your destiny, aren’t you?” he’d said to Anwar.

  “Yes, sir. I believe you can help me.”

  “Well, I can lead you to a very lucrative path. It’ll be your decision to work hard and remain loyal. Tell me a little more about yourself and what it is you want most out of life.”

  Anwar delved into a history of his life, making up a few stories as he went. He still maintained that he was from New Providence and not from St. Elmo’s Valley, fearing he may spoil his chances with Gregory. He then explained to Gregory his desire to become a successful businessman – all of the key points Gregory had been wanting to hear.

  “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?” he said to Anwar.

  “Ask me; I don’t mind.”

  Gregory cleared his throat, and repeated a line he always used to reel in any potential recruit. It gave him a quick look into the individual’s integrity and the values they supported. It also helped him make a decision about whether to proceed with additional information that may be too sensitive for someone with narrow-minded thinking. “Tell me the one thing you will never do for money.”

  Anwar chuckled nervously as he thought about his answer for a few seconds. “Well, that’s easy,” he said. “I will never murder my parents; I don’t care how much money is being offered.”

  “Good answer,” Gregory replied. Anwar valued family just as Gregory valued his. “Take note of this address and I will meet you there tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. We will discuss your future and the opportunity for you to make a lot of money. I promise you; your life will never be the same. Are you excited?”

  “Hell, yeah – excuse me – I mean, I am extremely happy. Thank you very much, sir! I really appreciate it.”