Selling My Soul Page 11

  “Is the God of heaven still reigning on the throne with our Savior at His right hand, ruling in dominion over all principalities, powers and might in this world and the world to come?”

  I took in a deep breath and felt myself being strengthened by Gabe’s words. “Yes.”

  “And are we still reigning and ruling with Him in heavenly places, with that same authority and dominion over all the works of the enemy? Do we still have full access to the throne room where we can bring all our petitions and trust that He hears them? Do we still have His creative power in our mouths that whatever we declare in His name must be manifest in the earth?”

  “Yes, Gabe.” I wiped the tears from my face and stopped crying.

  “So none of that’s changed since you’ve flown back home to Maryland? His sovereignty over all is still intact, even in America?”

  “Yes.” I smiled and remembered why it had been impossible for me to keep up the walls I had built around my heart to protect myself from falling in love with him or any other man.

  “Okay, so now with these things in mind, tell me what’s going on.”

  So I did. I told him about my mother’s illness and how bad she looked. I told him about the prognosis she had been given. I told him about my mother’s bills and how she was in danger of losing her health insurance. I told him about my mortgage and how behind I was. I told him about my savings being gone. I told him about Tiffany and her smoking and drinking. And then I told him about having to take my job back. He listened quietly the whole time while I laid it all out for him. I could feel his peace, the same peace we had lived under in Mieze where nothing could move us from our faith in God.

  When I got to the part about Bishop Walker, I shut down. I was ashamed to tell him what I had agreed to do. Without telling him the worst part of everything that was going on, I knew it would make my tears seem trivial and overly emotional, but I was willing to take that risk.

  “Is that all?” he finally said calmly when I had finished.

  I sniffed. “Pretty much. I guess you’re right. Maybe I’m just culture shocking and jet-lagging. I guess being tired is making me emotional.”

  “I can understand, Trina. It must be difficult seeing your mother so sick.” I knew he could understand that part. His own mother had died of colon cancer about ten years ago. One night when we were sitting in front of the fire lighting the village after dark, he had told me how difficult it was to watch her suffer and die. “But my dear, have you so quickly forgotten the miracles?”

  “No, I haven’t forgotten. But she won’t even let me pray for her. She doesn’t want anything to do with my Jesus as she says it. If I can’t pray for her, how can she be healed?”

  “So you begin to pray for her heart. That God will soften it until she’s willing to accept prayer. The king’s heart is in His hands, yes?”

  “Yes.” I pulled the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around me. “Thank you, Gabriel. I’m so glad you called. I can’t believe you went all the way into Pemba for me.”

  “You know I would go to the ends of the earth for you.”

  I sighed into the phone. “I miss you, Gabe. I wish you were here.” I tried to catch the words, but they slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. The man had just told me he would go to the ends of the earth for me and I knew he meant it. Silver Spring, Maryland was far short of the end of the earth, and I knew it would be nothing for Gabe to get on a plane if he thought I needed him to. “I mean, I wish I was there.”

  “I wish you were here too. In fact, that’s part of the reason I called. To see if you had changed your mind and to find out if you were ready to come back.”

  “Gabe, we talked about this. I—”

  “I know, Trina. And you can’t come back now anyway with your mother in the state that she’s in. As soon as she’s healed, I trust you’ll find your way back to me?”

  I let out a deep, pained breath. “You know how badly I want to come back to Mozambique.”

  “I didn’t say Mozambique. I said to me.”

  Silence hung in the air between us.

  “Okay, Trina. I will be praying for your mother. Please, leave messages for me with Zembala here at the mission base. If you need me, I’ll be there.”

  “I know. And I will.”

  “I will be leaving to return to Mieze in the morning. Remember God is on the throne. I love you, Trina. I trust that you know that.”

  “I know. And I love you too, Gabriel Woods.” It had taken me six months, but I learned to say those words that I felt in the depths of my heart. I thought he would cry the first time I said them, about three months before I left. Even now, I could hear him smiling.

  “Well, then all is well with the world.”

  I laughed with him. “Peace be with you.”

  “And peace be with you, my angel.”

  I laid back on the floor and pretended Gabe’s arms were around me. I remembered the first time he held me. It was while we were standing over the grave of my little baby, Numpoto. They had placed her small body wrapped in cotton strips into the small hole in the ground, and I was overcome with tears. Gabe held my shoulders tightly until they covered her over with dirt. When they had finished, he turned me to him and took me in his arms. He explained that my little adopted child was now in heaven in the arms of God. A more blessed place than we could find anywhere in the world. Even in my sadness, I was strengthened. I felt the same calm, strong peace I felt now.

  I would have to draw on that strength to get through the press conference the next day.

  Fifteen

  The number of boys was up to twenty-three. That was the last count when morning broke. Twenty-three innocent lives now tainted. By so called men of God. Two of them in the last nine months. And here I stood in the back of the multipurpose room at Love and Faith Christian Center waiting to walk Bishop Walker through his latest, greatest performance.

  I had refused to eat breakfast and even dinner the night before. I didn’t think I’d be able to hold it down once he got started. Tiffany was wrong. If I kept working with Bishop Walker, I wouldn’t be gaining my weight back any time soon.

  All the major television stations were there, as well as the newspapers. The story was getting national coverage. If Bishop was a decent client, and if I were trying to make a career in public relations, this would be a dream come true for me. If I handled it well, Blanche’s firm, and me in particular would be sought out. Which was why she was here as well. She knew how this coverage could catapult her firm to the next level. She kept glancing over at me, almost as if she were afraid I had something up my sleeve to sabotage things. She had nothing to worry about. Monica’s peace and happiness were dependent on me doing my job right, so my best work was guaranteed.

  A flurry of activity erupted when Ms. Turner opened the door to let Bishop Walker into the room. He walked, head bowed, over to the press podium we had set up.

  He took a deep breath and put on his concerned face. “I want to thank all of you for coming here today. With everything that’s been unfolding this past week, I thought it was expedient for me to make a statement, then take a few questions about what’s been going on in my congregation.”

  He gripped the sides of the podium, as if he needed to hold on for strength. “First and foremost, I am overwhelmed and dismayed at the allegations that have come forth from so many past and present members of my church. It’s difficult for me to know what to say. As we all saw at the arraignment, both men have pleaded innocent. Therefore, as is the foundation of our justice system, they are innocent until proven guilty. I have worked closely with these men for the last twenty years and nothing in their character would ever lead me to believe they could commit the heinous crimes they’ve been accused of.”

  Loud murmurs filled the room. Bishop held up a hand to quiet everyone so he could continue. “That being said, for this many individuals to come forward with the same allegations, I have to consider the possibility that it may be true. And
that simply breaks my heart.” Bishop’s voice cracked and he stepped away from the microphone for a second.

  Everyone was completely silent. If I didn’t know the truth, I might actually halfway believe him.

  He took a deep breath and came back to the microphone. “I think this is the most difficult thing that can happen to any pastor or shepherd of any congregation. We give our lives to protect and develop our sheep. To think that . . .” His voice cracked again, and he hung his head. He coughed and cleared his throat. “To think that young boys under my watch could have . . .” he hung his head and stepped away from the podium again. Ms. Turner brought him a bottle of water and a handkerchief.

  God, he was good. It was scary how easily he could lie. The only thing he was sorry about was the possibility of losing his mega church. Or should I say mega church tithes . . .

  “I am completely committed to getting to the bottom of all this. I will do anything I can to aid in the investigation because it is of the utmost importance that the truth is discovered. That is my only interest here. Truth and justice. If these men are innocent as they say they are, then I am committed to helping them clear their names and be fully restored to their lives. If, however, they are found guilty, then they should be punished to the fullest extent of the law.”

  He cleared his throat again. “And finally, for this many young men to come forward, something must have happened. Whether it was a misperception or misinterpretation of things or actual abuse, an event occurred that has hurt and forever changed the lives of alleged victims. And this is my utmost concern. The well-being of those who have in some way been affected by whatever has occurred. For whatever might have happened to these individuals while they were under my pastorate, I deeply apologize.”

  Bishop Walker looked down and shook his head like the pain he was experiencing at the thought of their pain was unbearable. “In whatever way you were hurt and in whatever way it has affected your lives, all I can say is that I am so sorry.” His voice was thick with emotion. “More sorry than I can ever express.”

  He stopped again and took a deep breath. “Therefore, Love and Faith Christian Center will be providing professional counseling services for any of the alleged victims and their families who are interested in receiving it.”

  Murmurs arose again. I knew the press was buying it.

  Blanche looked over at me and winked. I knew she appreciated that as my brainchild. I gave her a fake smile, but as soon as she looked away, I rolled my eyes.

  Bishop continued, “As I said, this is all very shocking, overwhelming and disappointing for me. I assure you, I had no knowledge until the arrests were made that there was any possibility of any such activities going on in my congregation. I am committed to doing whatever is necessary to discover the truth. And finally and most importantly, to help the alleged victims get whatever help is needed to restore their emotional and mental health.”

  Bishop Walker gave one last dramatic pause, and then said, “I’m willing to answer any questions you may have.”

  The crowd erupted, each fighting for their chance to ask a question. The noise finally calmed down and clear questions came through. “Bishop Walker, you’re telling us that your first knowledge of these men’s alleged actions was when they were arrested?”

  “Yes.” Bishop Walker nodded calmly. “Well, to be exact, the Bishop’s council that oversees our church called me the evening before the arrests occurred. I was made aware of the allegations and the pending arrests then. I was instructed not to have any contact with them or their families, and I have adhered to that instruction. I haven’t spoken with any of them since this whole nightmare started.”

  Another reporter raised his pen. “Bishop Walker, you must understand how difficult it is to believe you knew nothing of this. No victims have ever come forward in the past making similar allegations? Nothing has ever occurred that made you suspicious of any wrongdoing? It’s hard to believe this has gone on for twenty years and no one ever told.”

  For a split second, Bishop glared at me as if he feared I had ratted him out. He kept his composure. “I’ve asked myself that same question since all this started. I even did some research to make some sense of all this. What I discovered is this. The most unfortunate thing about sexual abuse, especially when the victims are males, is that there is such a high degree of shame involved, that the victims often do not tell anyone of their abuse, including their parents. Not only are they ashamed, there is also often guilt associated, and the victims think there is something they’ve done to invite the abuse. And so the secret is kept for years.”

  Blanche looked over at me and nodded her appreciation of my brilliance again. Made me feel sicker.

  “Bishop Walker, why do you think the ministry council didn’t notify you as soon as they received the letters? From what you’re saying, they carried out the entire investigation without your knowledge. Do you think they feared that you might interfere in some way?”

  I hadn’t anticipated that question and therefore didn’t get a chance to prepare Bishop for it. I froze, afraid of what he might say.

  He didn’t seem the least bit phased by the question. “I can’t speak to the motivation for the ministry council’s actions. I would think that they felt it necessary to carry out an independent investigation so that the families would be satisfied that they did their best to discover the truth without any possible interference or bias.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. I didn’t know why I had worried. Bishop Walker was in the lying zone, and it looked like nothing could get to him.

  “Bishop Walker, how is it that this type of activity could go on right under your nose without you suspecting anything? As a church leader, aren’t you supposed to be able to judge the character of those that you work with?”

  Bishop Walker nodded as if he had been waiting for that question. “As I said before, that’s the most difficult thing about all of this. Because if it is discovered that the alleged activities of these men did occur, then . . .” Bishop’s voice cracked. He wiped his hand across his face. “. . . then I have to accept full responsibility. I put them in places of leadership and therefore would be for all intents and purposes, guilty of every act of abuse. And that is a fact that I would have to live with for the rest of my life.” Bishop Walker bent over the podium, as if overcome with grief. His assistant pastor hurried over to the podium and led him away, holding up a hand to indicate that the Q&A session was over.

  Blanche gave me one last nod of approval. Bishop must have gotten nervous with that last question. He was only supposed to use the emotional breakdown/unable to answer further questions technique if it looked like things were going south.

  Blanche came over to stand with me. “Very nice work, Trina. Well prepped, great answers, great emotion. Very nice work.”

  I gave her a wry smile. “I can only take partial credit. Bishop Walker is a natural born liar and only needed minimal coaching from me,” I said under my breath for her ears only.

  Sandra Jensen, one of the field reporters from Fox 5 News that I was pretty friendly with, came over to where we were standing. “Thanks for the call, Trina. I have to say until I heard from you, I was convinced that this Bishop Walker character had been covering for the men. But I knew that if you were representing him, he couldn’t be dirty. I know your integrity and that you wouldn’t be involved if you weren’t certain he was telling the truth.”

  I couldn’t say anything. Blanche interrupted before my hesitation gave away the obvious truth. “Thank you so much for coming. Ms. Michaels will continue to keep you abreast of information regarding this case as it unfolds. I have another press conference you’ll be interested in that should be scheduled for early next week.” She led Sandra away. She turned back over her shoulder and glared at me to get myself together.

  I left immediately and walked to the bathroom. I went into a stall to take a few deep breaths. I knew I had to get back in there soon to make nice with my other media contacts, bu
t I couldn’t stomach anymore. I knew Sandy wasn’t the only reporter who would believe Bishop Walker was innocent because of my representing him. Monica was right. I was about to make him come through this looking like a perfect angel.

  I finally felt like my stomach had settled enough for me to go talk to some people and left the bathroom. I went around fake smiling and shaking hands, promising to call everyone when the next bit of info on the story came out. After most everyone left, Blanche included, I forced myself to go speak to Bishop Walker.

  Ms. Turner indicated for me to go right in. Apparently I had reached the highest status and had open access to him whenever I wanted.

  He smiled and rose when I entered, holding out a hand, inviting me to take a seat. “Ms. Michaels, I think that went rather well. I’m anxious to hear your thoughts.”

  “That went better than I could have imagined. It scares me how easily and brilliantly you lie.” I sat in the chair across from him.

  He didn’t even seem phased by my comment. We were far beyond me feigning any undeserved respect for him. “I don’t expect you to understand, Ms. Michaels.”

  “Understand? You mean you actually have some sort of explanation for your actions? Or inaction? I was there the day Monica caught Kevin with Trey. Do you know how devastated she was by that? That day would have never happened if you had bothered to tell her what you knew about Kevin before you married them. She told me about Kevin’s lifelong struggle with homosexuality. Are you aware of how miserable he was for most of his life? Multiply their pain by twenty-three and counting, Bishop Walker. So, no. I don’t understand how you can live with yourself or how you even consider yourself God’s representative. Do you really think anything about your character represents God? You’re a disgrace to everything He is.”

  “Everything God is? And what is that exactly, Ms. Michaels? You act as if He’s real. God is simply a good idea. A code of ethics people choose to live by. You act as if He’s truly a living being.”

  My mouth fell open. “What? You don’t even believe . . .” I shook my head, staring at him. “You’re not even a Christian.”