Try a Little Tenderness Page 12

  This date was off to a great start in her eyes.

  “I’ll have to come by and hear him speak. Usually when I visit, I hear Pastor Cummings,” Amirah confirmed.

  “You’re a member of Gospel United Christian Center with Pastors Slate and Hughes, right?” Mateo impressed her.

  And he knows of my pastor. God, you are moving incredibly fast, Amirah thought. Then she remembered that Mateo had visited her church a few times before. It wasn’t a huge secret that most of the teachers of Shiloh Christian Academy attended the church where Pastor Ingles preached. It wasn’t a prerequisite for their job, but it made praying together and working together and trying to live life as Christians together so much easier.

  “I’m supposed to be doing some work with them soon. I just became part of this ministry group called Street Disciples. It’s based in Winston-Salem, but the Asheville group is based at Guiding Light.”

  Yes, God! Amirah cheered to herself. Yes! “I didn’t know you were a member of the Street Disciples.”

  “The group was founded by a man named Rahliem Victor, and he got the vision for the group while serving the last few years of his prison sentence. It was designed for the ‘world’s misfits’ to come not only get the Word, but to in turn, Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, as we are commanded in Matthew 28:19.”

  The more Mateo talked, the less she saw him in the thug image he portrayed and saw the future in him as the man of God he was destined to be. She thought it would be interesting to date a guy who was at the beginning of his spiritual journey. Even if that date didn’t work out, she could see herself hanging with him long-term and studying the Word with him.

  “So where do you teach?”

  “I teach at Shiloh Christian Academy.”

  “I’m glad they did something positive with that place,” Mateo interjected. “When I went to that school, it was Shiloh High School, and we had a rap for being the bad school.”

  “Really, when did you graduate?”

  “I graduated with the Class of 2005, the best class.”

  Amirah chuckled and shook her head. She had started teaching during the 2011-2012 school year, only two years after Pastor and Mrs. Ingle applied for the charter and got grants from several churches to help take over the school.

  “You want to get something to eat?” Mateo offered again. “I was going to get a chocolate chip Frappuccino and a cantuccini.”

  “A cantuccini?” Amirah was confused. She’d never heard of that treat before.

  “It’s another word for biscotti.”

  “Yes, I would like one. I’ve never tried the Frappuccinos here before, and I do like biscotti. Can I get a chocolate one?” Amirah asked.

  “Coming right up.”

  As Amirah was getting ready to go into her purse and pull out a few dollars, Mateo was already making his way to the short line. She watched as he pulled his pants over his black boxer shorts. Amirah was willing to give him a pass on the pants today but trusted that Mateo would find a belt in time for their next date. Or she’d have to buy him one. She was willing to do that.

  “I lost some weight since I got these pants about a year ago,” Mateo offered as he returned and placed her biscotti and Frappuccino before her. “And I’m upset that I couldn’t find my belt. This is embarrassing.”

  “No worries,” Amirah assured him.

  “You don’t seem like the kind of a sister that would be into bad boys,” Mateo suggested. “I used to be a thug’s thug, but since giving my life to God, I still struggle with that. Changing twenty-seven years of attitudes and ways of life has been a huge adjustment for me, and sometimes I don’t get it right, but every time I fall short, I find a way to get back up again. And if that doesn’t work, I can always depend on Hammer to give me a swift kick on my bottom.”

  Amirah didn’t mean to, but she chuckled at that last line. She could picture the minister flinging Mateo around like he was disciplining a toddler.

  “I’m glad I get to see you laugh.” Mateo laughed with her.

  “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to—”

  “No,” Mateo interrupted. “I’m good. I think it’s sexy when a woman can smile and let her guard down. I may have been a player in my past life, but in this one, I don’t bite.”

  Amirah almost struggled to down her Frappuccino. She hadn’t expected him to reveal his experience. She wasn’t a prude, but she wasn’t used to men being frank without being vulgar in that regard.

  “Well, that is good to know.” It had taken a while for Amirah to respond. She looked Mateo over again and smiled. “So what books do you like to read?”

  “I’m not going to lie; I read magazines mostly. I’m into fitness, so Men’s Health, Muscle & Fitness. I also like Money, Entrepreneur and Black Enterprise. I read Sister 2 Sister and Essence too.”

  “I can respect that,” Amirah responded. “I like faith fiction and some suspense novels.”

  “I get into ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Victoria Christopher Murray, and E. N. JOY, but when I was locked up, I started by reading John Grisham and De’nesha Diamond and K’wan too. Big fan of his.”

  The crime novelist’s name was a shock, and interestingly, a guilty pleasure of hers as well. She was surprised they had favorite books in common. “Animal fan?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  Amirah and Mateo had an intense conversation about the series and found that they shared many common views. She was happy that she was able to talk to a man about books for once, not just asking him to buy one for Christmas, Valentine’s Day, anniversaries, and birthdays.

  After their conversation, they agreed to meet at David’s Table. Mateo had never been there, and she figured he could benefit from meeting some other Christians their age that were handling their business. Mateo got up and helped Amirah out of her seat and it confirmed what she was feeling.

  As they left the store, Amirah decided for herself that Mateo was a good man, and she’d be more than happy to give him another chance.

  Chapter Eighteen

  . . . of Terror

  Amirah was surprised at how her date at Barnes & Noble went. It was clear that Mateo’s primary objective wasn’t to get in her pants, and that he wanted what she wanted, which was to take it slow and to feel each other out.

  Amirah never had a man she could talk about Christ and books with before—check, check, and check. She was looking forward to conversations and revelations.

  So what if Mateo looked like he was in the latest rap video and he probably smoked weed in his spare time? At least she thought he did, judging from the way his fingernails were trimmed and kept at the perfect length to hold a blunt at the tip. He’d only been saved for less than a year, so Mateo was allowed some passes. After all, God gave them all passes and forgiveness on a regular basis.

  “Give me my computer, chump,” she heard a booming voice yell behind her.

  Amirah turned around and saw a six foot four, evenly stacked, French vanilla–colored man snatch the MacBook from Mateo’s arm.

  “Give me my laptop, Turner!” Mateo yelled as he got in his chest.

  They weren’t evenly matched, and Amirah noticed the height disparity between the two men. Mateo’s imperfections were showing. He’d resort to violence to settle an issue, and he could curse like a sailor. Her ears thought her mind was playing tricks on her, because just a few minutes ago, the man fighting for his laptop was quoting scripture and having an intelligent conversation about books.

  She walked toward the confrontation with intentions of pulling Mateo away. She was hoping that cooler minds would prevail.

  “Yo, dawg, why you always messing with me?” Amirah heard Mateo ask.

  She’d grabbed Mateo’s arm to pull him away from the confrontation, and he snatched it back. She didn’t like that.

  Both men dashed outside, and Amirah was right on Mateo’s heels.

  Mateo go
t back in Turner’s face and tried grabbing the MacBook from him. Turner used his height advantage and rotated the laptop between both of his hands while mean-mugging him. “’Cause you’re always in my way!” she heard Turner’s voice boom.

  Turner continued to taunt him, calling him several curse words and offensive slurs that attacked both his dark skin tone and Hispanic heritage.

  “Just give me my MacBook back.” Mateo stopped trying to get the computer back. He stood there waiting patiently.

  “I bought it!” Turner yelled as he got in Mateo’s face.

  Amirah could see Mateo clenching his fists at his side. She didn’t like that either. The last thing she wanted was for Mateo to backslide. She didn’t know what his deal was with Turner, and she didn’t care. She wanted the man she had a wonderful date with back.

  “Mateo!” Amirah yelled, hoping that calling his name might encourage him to give up the fight. The MacBook could be replaced; his life on this side could not.

  Mateo turned to say something to her. Before the words could escape his lips, Turner took advantage of the distraction and sucker-punched Mateo, sending him flying a few feet back and landing him on his back. Turner quickly passed the MacBook to one of his cronies, who’d come upon the fray. Like a lion capturing his prey, Turner pounced on Mateo’s frame and sent a few Floyd Mayweather–like blows to his head.

  Amirah watched in horror as the beautiful picture God created was being destroyed. Mateo’s head was bouncing like a basketball being dribbled. His blows were coming up too short and were no match for the much bigger and stronger nemesis.

  Amirah ran up to them in hopes that she could try to save Mateo or help him in some way. Before she could get close, Turner scooped Mateo up and body-slammed him on the pavement. She heard a crack and saw Mateo’s eyes roll to the back of his head. His body was shaking violently. The impact of his body hitting the pavement induced a seizure.

  Amirah screamed, and within a few seconds she saw black 1995 Toyota Camry pull up and the passenger side door opened. Turner flashed them both the bird and smirked when he hopped inside. The violent rap music drowned out what she was sure were profanities being hurled in their direction by Turner. She pulled out her smart phone, hoping to capture a picture of the license plate, but the car sped off before she could snap the picture.

  Several onlookers were rushing to Mateo, and she called 911.

  “9-1-1—” the operator tried to recite her introduction but was hastily interrupted.

  “We need an ambulance at the Asheville Mall right outside of the Barnes & Noble!” Amirah yelled, cutting off the dispatcher. “We just saw a man get brutally attacked, and it looks like he’s having a seizure.”

  Amirah continued to fill in as much detail about Mateo as she could. She decided to wait until the ambulance arrived. When Mateo’s body stopped shaking, she turned him to his side and looked for his wallet that she knew he put in his back pocket. When she didn’t find it, she checked his front pocket. The wallet was missing too. Amirah didn’t remember seeing Turner taking it, but she reasoned it could’ve fallen out of his pocket when Mateo paid for their order or when they started their conflict. Amirah had hoped that Turner hadn’t snatched the wallet from him, but she didn’t put it past him either.

  Amirah didn’t know what Mateo’s dealings with Turner were, but clearly the two men had a violent past, and she felt guilty for her role in Turner getting the best of Mateo. When the ambulance arrived, she gave them as much information as she could, and she asked them to let her follow them, because if nothing else, she knew who Hammer was, and that would be the man who would be able to sort out this mess.

  Mateo awakened to Bible verses and prayers being said simultaneously. At first, he was sure that he was in heaven; but he saw no sign of Jesus and had no flashback of how he’d lived his life. There were no voices praising God or heavenly sounds. And he knew he wasn’t in hell, because his spirit wasn’t on fire.

  Then he heard Hammer’s voice. He could also hear Pastor Cummings talking to his mother. Her sobs nearly broke his heart. Mateo hadn’t kept up with her or his siblings the way he should have, and the last place he wanted them to see him was in the hospital.

  Mateo cursed himself. He couldn’t believe he’d let Turner get the best of him again. He could barely open his eyes, but he could feel the needles in his arms, and he could tell the hospital had him on some form of anesthesia.

  Mateo struggled to open his eyes, and he couldn’t move his arms or his legs. He vaguely remembered how he got into the hospital, but due its distinctive disinfectant smell and the beeping of the monitor, he was sure he was hooked up to a slew of devices.

  Mateo was sure that the morphine he was injected with was sedating him. He felt higher than he did when he used to smoke weed. Mateo hadn’t felt like this since he and one of his old friends did some nasty things with a group of women in the back room of a strip club.

  He couldn’t identify any other voices. Mateo figured he wasn’t dead because he could feel himself struggling to breathe. He wondered if he had been connected to a machine that helped him to breathe. He hoped he wasn’t paralyzed, because he did not want to live the rest of his life like this.

  “Son,” Mateo heard his mother ask, “can you hear me?”

  Mateo nodded his head. He was happy that he could finally move a body part.

  “Doctor, he’s moving!” Hammer shouted.

  He could feel the excitement in the room as he continued to shake his head. Mateo didn’t feel strong enough to speak, and he couldn’t move his lips. At least he didn’t think he could.

  Mateo could hear a lot of things ruffling and moving, and he knew something was going on. All of a sudden, he couldn’t feel anything again. He couldn’t hear God, but he knew that something was going down. And he wasn’t ready to die.

  Chapter Nineteen

  We Are Not Ashamed

  Amirah sat in a daze in her classroom. She had considered calling out but didn’t have enough paid time off, and she couldn’t afford to have a substitute’s pay come out of her pocket.

  Thankfully, her class hadn’t started yet when Mrs. Ingle walked in. “Amirah,” she called out in concern.

  Amirah snapped out of it and turned her head to face Mrs. Ingle. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Are you sure you are okay?” Mrs. Ingle asked. “I heard about what happened over the weekend, and I’m sorry that you knew the young man involved in that incident.”

  “We had a good date, too,” Amirah answered. She couldn’t play off her feelings for him if she wanted to.

  Mrs. Ingle grabbed Amirah’s hand without warning, closed her eyes, and bowed her head. Amirah immediately did the same. “Father God, we come before you now, praying healing mercy and grace on that young man—what’s his name, dear?”

  “Mateo,” Amirah stuttered. “Mateo Valdez.”

  “We pray for healing mercy and grace for Mateo Valdez and his family as they go through this time of need. Lord, you are Jehovah Rapha, and we need you to heal Mateo’s mind, body, and spirit in the way you see fit. Bring about the spirit of comfort and forgiveness for this family, and we pray for mercy and healing for the family of the young man who inflicted pain on Mateo. Help them know your love if they should not know you, and encourage them to stay strong in you and your Word if they do. God, we praise you, honor you, and magnify you, and it is in your Son Jesus Christ’s name we pray. Amen,” Mrs. Ingle prayed.

  “It is well.” The utterance of these three words caused Amirah’s spirit to heal and to feel at peace. She smiled for the first time that day, and remembering what Mateo said about her smile made her want to smile even more. “I’m thankful you prayed with me.” Amirah reached out to Mrs. Ingle for a hug.

  “That is what we do, child,” Mrs. Ingle replied when she hugged her back. “That is what we do. This is Shiloh Christian Academy, and in this house and at this school, we will praise and serve the Lord.”

  Amirah knew Mrs. Ingle meant tha
t. She heard the bell ring, and she quickly grabbed some tissue to wipe away any tears. She did not want her students seeing her in distress.

  “We are teachers,” Mrs. Ingle said.

  “Our duty is to teach the youth,” Amirah replied when Xen walked in.

  Mrs. Ingle found her exit as more students walked in.

  “Ms. Dalton, I apologize for how my parents acted the other day,” Xen offered as other students were putting their bags at their desk and logging into the computers.

  “It’s all right.” Amirah accepted his apology.

  “I also have this to give you.” Xen pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. “I was saving this so I can get a car, but I feel responsible for my mother destroying the monitors.”

  Amirah could feel the weight of the money in the envelope and handed it back to him. “You keep this for now, and we’ll talk with Mrs. Ingle and decide what she wants to do.”

  “I need somewhere to stay—after school—so I can study for my math class. I know if I go into the library, I’m just going to get in trouble, and if I go home, I’ll be sneaking over to my girlfriend’s house.” Xen didn’t need to paint a picture for Amirah to get what he was saying. “But if I can stay after school in your class while you are tutoring other students or when you conduct your FBLA meetings, I will have a safe place to study and no one will bother me.”

  “What about How—I mean Mr. Amber? What about his room?” Amirah suggested.

  “It’s football season, and he hardly has time. And the other math teachers won’t help me.”

  Amirah found that hard to believe, but she’d deal with that another time. “I will say yes for now, but only temporarily. I’ll see about getting Mr. Amber to help you too. But for now, bring your math books and whatever other classwork you are struggling with, and I will provide a safe place for you to study. Now go to your seat so I can start class.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Xen walked to his computer and soon, everyone was logged in and she was ready to start class. She showed them the topic for the day, and she briefly explained how their lesson was going to meet the objective she had.