Dance Into Destiny Read online

  “I don’t know. You just know. There’s this scripture that says ‘my sheep know my voice.’ I guess it’s all a part of building a relationship. When I first met you, I couldn’t recognize your voice on the phone. You’d have to say, ‘this is Keeva.’ Now that we’re close friends, I could pick out your voice in a noisy room full of people. It’s the same way with God. As we familiarize ourselves with hearing His voice by spending time in His presence, it becomes easier and easier to hear Him. Of course, you have to check it with the Word. If it doesn’t line up, it’s not Him. It takes some time to learn how to hear God and even longer to trust that it’s Him speaking. I think the most important thing to realize is that He’s always talking and wants to communicate with us about even the smallest details in our lives.”

  Keeva shook her head. “There’s so much to learn about God, I feel like I’ll never understand Him.”

  “The day you fully understand Him is the day He ceases to be God. I’m sure we’ll spend all of eternity still searching out the mysteries of God. He’s too awesome for any human mind to understand.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s part of what makes Him God,” Keeva said.

  Shara looked at the clock on the dashboard. “You want me to drop you off at home?”

  “Nope. It’s still early. If you stop driving like I’m Miss Daisy, we can get to our church in time for praise and worship.”

  Shara smiled. “Our church, huh?”

  Keeva nodded. “Yeah. Our church.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Keeva found herself struggling to pay attention to her client. The fall semester was halfway over. She had started her counseling practicum and was working with real people.

  She looked at the frumpy woman sitting in front of her. She was a thirty-seven year-old mother of three and was worried about everything. She worried that her kids weren’t getting the best education in their private school and that she wasn’t spending enough time with them because they were starting to act out. She was worried that her husband was getting bored with her and that he may have an affair if she couldn’t keep him interested. She was concerned that the property values in her exclusive neighborhood weren’t rising as fast as in the neighborhood a few blocks over.

  Keeva had to work hard not to snap in disdain that the woman’s problems weren’t real. She pictured herself screaming, “You want to see problems? Go down to Bankhead Highway and see the kids there whose parents are on crack and would just as soon sell them for their next fix. Check out the sixteen-year-old selling her body so she can get high. All you need to do is get a new hairstyle, put on some makeup, and for God’s sake, get some decent clothes. Your kids need a good beatin’ or at least to be told ‘no’ for once in their life. Go home and do all this, and I promise your sad little life will get a lot better.”

  Keeva felt guilty for feeling that way. To this woman, her problems were as real as a crack addict’s. She imagined her on Oprah, crying into the tissue Oprah handed her. She saw Dr. Phil giving her the advice she needed to make her life better.

  “What do you think?” the woman asked.

  Keeva looked at her, startled, realizing she hadn’t been paying any attention. She recovered quickly. “What I think doesn’t really matter now does it, Mrs. Kennedy? What do you think? What decisions do you need to make for you? What choices will empower you?” She put on her best concerned face.

  “You’re right. I guess the answers are really deep down. I need to listen to my inner self. I saw that on Oprah the other day. She and Dr. Phil were discussing . . .” she trailed off into another flood of words.

  Keeva zoned out again, resisting the temptation to look at her watch. What would Shara do with this patient? She pictured her laying hands on the woman and casting out the spirit of worry and self-pity. She could see Mrs. Kennedy falling out on the floor, slain in the spirit. She must have giggled because Mrs. Kennedy stopped mid-sentence and looked at her in horror.

  Keeva froze. She wanted to smack herself. She could hear her mother’s voice in her ear chastising her that her daydreaming was going to get her in big trouble one day. Think girl, think! “I’m sorry, Mrs. Kennedy, I was imagining something. This is a new therapeutic technique we’re using. I want you to close your eyes with me and imagine your husband . . .”

  By the time she finished, Mrs. Kennedy was almost on the floor . . . in a fit of laughter.

  “We call this technique creative imagery.” Keeva coined a new term as it came to her. “I want you to use this every time you’re overwhelmed with your problems. Whether it be your husband, your children, the center where you volunteer, whatever it is, use creative imagery to bring the situation to a place where you can handle it.” She looked at her watch. “Oh dear, we were having such fun, I lost track of the time. I don’t want to be late for my next client.”

  Sorry for that lie, God. Thankfully, she didn’t have anyone else. She couldn’t take another person today.

  Mrs. Kennedy wiped the tears of laughter away. “Thank you so much, Ms. Banks. I haven’t had so much fun and laughed so much in years.”

  Then you definitely need to get a life.

  Keeva felt sorry for her. It was sad that that the most fun she’d had in years was a laugh on the couch with her therapist. Keeva was glad she had been able to help. It felt good to know she had been able to aid in alleviating another person’s suffering.

  This might not be so bad. Keeva had to shake herself to remember the only reason she had gotten Mrs. Kennedy to laugh was because she had been so bored and annoyed with her that she hadn’t paid attention to her meaningless rambling and had had to make up a “therapeutic technique” to save her grade.

  Shara had a fit of laughter as Keeva recounted the Mrs. Kennedy story to her later in the church office. Keeva had stopped by before going up to the dance studio.

  “Now what did you call it? ‘Creative imagery?’ What were you thinking about anyway that you weren’t paying attention?” Shara asked.

  Shara almost fell out of her chair laughing when Keeva recounted the scene of Mrs. Kennedy being slain in the spirit. “Your imagination is out of control, girl. You gotta rein that thing in, or better still, put it to some good use other than tricking your patients.”

  “Like what?”

  “Write stories or plays or choreograph some of those dances you see in your head when your favorite songs are playing. Do something with it, girl, otherwise it’s going to keep sneaking up on you at the most inopportune times.”

  Often, they’d be driving or studying and Keeva would slip into a daydream listening to music. She could actually see images in her head of her and the kids dancing. She smiled as she thought of a piece she and Shanique were working on together. Ever since that day at New Life Christian Center, she had been flooded with creative ideas for choreography.

  “See, there you go again. Earth to Keeva. Seriously though Keev, what are you going to do when you’ve got one Mrs. Housewife right after another one, all day long, every day, five days a week?”

  Keeva shuddered. She had been thinking about that a lot since she started her practicum. She couldn’t even make it through one patient without taking a trip to her dream world. What would she do when she had to see them all day to pay the bills? She had never actually thought about what it would really be like being a therapist. She did like helping people. It just seemed more meaningful when she was helping her kids.

  The door flew open and Danae ran in screaming. “Miss Keeva, Miss Shara! There’s a fight on the basketball court. This time it’s serious.”

  Chapter Forty

  Keeva and Shara got out to the basketball court in time to see Quinton wrestling T-bone to the ground. Jamil’s nose was bleeding and he was yelling obscenities while Anthony held him back from trying to jump on T-bone.

  “Quinton?”

  “I got it, Shara. You guys go back inside.”

  She and Keeva stood frozen. Most of the fights never got bad enough for an adult to h
ave to intervene. Usually at the first sign of an authority figure, the kids would settle down. T-bone, however, had been a problem since he’d gotten involved with the basketball program. He hadn’t met the grade requirement, often started fights, and didn’t respect any of the adults. Shara had been telling Quinton he needed to be kicked out of the program, but Quinton seemed to think if he kept working with him, he would get better.

  Quinton and his boys were becoming a sore spot between him and Shara. Initially, she admired his dedication and commitment to them, but lately, she had become concerned about it. He spent far too much money on them, and in her opinion, far too much time.

  If it wasn’t taking Jamil to get sneakers, it was taking Deshawn for a doctor’s appointment or Tyreek to the mall, or Tiquan for school clothes. Each of them had his home phone, cell phone and pager number and used him as their personal taxi and Santa Claus. Shara initially joked about him having a savior complex, but anytime she mentioned it, he got agitated and changed the subject.

  Quinton stood T-bone up, still holding on to him.

  T-bone was seething, trying to escape Quinton’s relentless hold. “You done it now. You think you so great just ’cause you was a basketball star? Your blood will flow red, just like anybody else’s,” T-bone spat at Quinton. “Jamil, you a dead man. Nobody crosses me and—”

  “That’s enough!” Quinton’s voice bellowed across the court. He looked up at Shara and Keeva.

  “Shara, I said go inside.”

  “Do you want me to call the police?”

  “No honey, just do what I told you. Danae, you go with them.”

  Shara felt chills running up her spine from T-bone’s words. She understood Quinton’s desire to help him, but this time, he needed to let go. As far as she was concerned, they should have gotten rid of T-bone and his equally belligerent friend, Jermaine, a long time ago.

  “You okay?” Keeva asked as they walked back into the office.

  “Yeah. I don’t like that boy.” Shara looked at her watch. “You better go on up. The girls have been waiting and you don’t want to have to break up a fight of your own.”

  “My girls fight? Never.”

  Keeva hadn’t had a fight out of Shanique or Lakita since they’d started taking dance classes. In fact, most of the time, they were inseparable, giggling in some corner about a boy. Shara noticed since they started dancing, a lot of the girls carried themselves with more grace and esteem. They acted prissy and ladylike, as if they were imitating Keeva.

  Shara snapped her fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot. Mother Hobbs said Pastor Kendrick wanted to take a few of us out to dinner tonight after we finish up. We’re supposed to meet at Justin’s at 7:00. You can ride with me and Quinton if you want.”

  “Wow, nice—what for?”

  “I don’t know. Mother Hobbs said he had some great news to share with us.”

  “Cool. I’ll meet you in the parking lot after class.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  When Keeva got to the parking lot, Quinton and Shara were already waiting in the truck. As they were pulling off, Anthony came running up. “Hey, can I catch a ride with you guys?”

  Anthony and Quinton had become friends and he had started hanging out with the three of them. He hopped in the back seat with Keeva. “Yo, Quint-man, what was up with your boy, T? He’s usually bad, but I’ve never seen him that bad. What’s his beef with Jamil?

  “I don’t know. Kid stuff I guess.”

  “It seemed like more than that. Talking ’bout your blood flowing red and Jamil’s a dead man and stuff. That boy scares me.”

  “Naw, he’s just all mouth.”

  Keeva watched Shara looking at Quinton. It was obvious he was downplaying things to keep her from being afraid.

  “What’s the name of this restaurant?” Quinton asked.

  “Quinton, you don’t think he has a gun or something, do you?” Shara asked.

  He looked over at her and rubbed her cheek. “Stop worrying, baby. T-bone is all talk. He’s been making threats since he started coming around. He gets mad about any little thing and mouths off. It’s nothing.” He squeezed Shara’s knee.

  “Hey! Stop that. You know I’m ticklish.” Shara giggled.

  Keeva made a face. “Oh boy, here we go. We should have taken your car, Anthony. I don’t know how much of ‘the Sickenings’ I’m going to be able to take.”

  “Shut up, Keeva.” Shara giggled again.

  Keeva smiled at how happy her friend was. She wondered when Quinton was going to pop the question. The way they acted, it was just a matter of time.

  Her thoughts drifted to Mark. After she first broke off their engagement, he called her relentlessly every day. He stopped by unannounced at odd hours when he knew she’d be home. The first few times she let him in to talk, but after hearing him yell and scream about getting her deprogrammed, she took her key back and stopped answering the door. He even had her mother and father calling. He had obviously convinced them she had lost her mind and joined a cult. The calls eventually trickled off. She hadn’t heard from him in about a month.

  “Earth to Keeva. Where’d you go this time?” Shara turned around in her seat.

  “Just thinking about a dance. You know me.” Keeva sighed heavily.

  Anthony put a hand on her arm. “Must not have been a happy dance. You okay?”

  She nodded at him.

  At first it had been difficult and she had missed Mark. Over the past few months though, she had gotten so caught up in dancing and her girls, church, hanging out with the other youth leaders and school, she hardly thought about him. She smiled to herself as she realized she was happy getting to know herself and getting to know God. She hadn’t missed a church service or Bible study since she and Mark broke up. She had even been going to intercessory prayer on Friday mornings. She was really developing a relationship with God, just like Shara had described. She really felt like she was going somewhere with her life now. She wasn’t sure where exactly, but since she had started working with the youths, she had that sense of purpose Shara always talked about.

  She had asked God to give her some definite direction about what to do next in terms of her career. She asked Him everyday to direct her toward what jobs to interview for. She hadn’t heard Him answer her and had been meaning to ask Shara more about how to hear His voice. She had to do something soon. Everybody else was interviewing and some had found jobs.

  She wasn’t nervous though. She had a strange peace that God had it all under control.

  “Now you must be thinking about a happy dance. Wish I could unlock that mind of yours. Must be some serious stuff that goes on in there.” Anthony watched Keeva grinning to herself.

  Shara looked back. “Yeah, Keeva’s always dreaming up a masterpiece. I can’t wait until the Christmas program.”

  Keeva wouldn’t allow anyone to come near the dance rooms while they were practicing. She kept saying everybody had to wait until the performance at the end of the year. They were planning a combined dance recital, awards ceremony, and dedication for the new track and basketball courts. The kids were very excited about bringing their families and friends.

  “Here we go.” Quinton parked the truck.

  When they walked into the restaurant, Pastor Kendrick, Jenell, and Mother Hobbs were already sitting at a large table. Quinton pulled back Shara’s chair and Anthony held Keeva’s for her.

  “We’re still waiting for Nia and Malcolm,” Pastor Kendrick said. “Why don’t you guys go ahead and order. They should be here any minute.”

  After Nia and Malcolm arrived and everyone put their orders in, Pastor Kendrick cleared his throat. “First of all, I want to thank everyone for their hard work and dedication this year. God couldn’t have sent me a better team. I think God has decided to reward our efforts.”

  He looked like he was about to burst. “I received official notification today that . . .” he paused for effect, “. . . we got the grant.”

  Everyone ch
eered at once. The other people in the restaurant looked over to see what all the noise was about.

  After everyone calmed down, Pastor Kendrick continued, “I wanted you all to be the first to know, because well, let me slow down some. We’re going to be doing some revamping of the allocation of some funds.”

  He slapped Quinton on the back. “Because Quinton here was so gracious in funding the resurfacing of the track and basketball courts and renovating the dance and martial arts studios, and because he’s refused his salary, we have a lot more money than we thought we’d have.”

  Quinton would have blushed if his skin wasn’t so dark. “Man, I told you I didn’t want anyone to know about all that. That was supposed to be between me and you.”

  “Sorry, Quint-man. I’m excited. Cut me some slack.”

  Pastor Kendrick continued, “Because of the surplus and grant, we have funds for full-time salaries for a few individuals and part-time for others. So here we go. Shara and Keeva will be graduating next year just as the grant starts paying out. Shara, if you’re interested and you feel it’s God’s desire, we’d like you to come on full time as director of our education and tutoring programs. We’ll continue the after-school programs and then run a summer enrichment program. After a while, we want to start planning a charter school.”

  Shara’s mouth hung open.

  “Keeva, I don’t know if we can persuade you to forego your career plans, but we’d like you to head up our dance program. We’ll continue the after-school programs and then have a full-time dance academy during the summer. Nia has also told me about the plays you’ve written for her theatre program. We’d like to have you continue that also. Take your time and really think and pray about it. I know we’re asking you to give up a lot, especially since there’s no promise of funding beyond the initial five-year period. Let me know what you feel like God is saying.”

  “Yes!” Keeva bounced in her seat. “Yes! He’s saying yes and I’m saying yes.”