Chapter 35

Saturday evening arrived and the guests began to come in and fellowship with those that had lived in George and Juanita’s household.  There was Judy Chandler, a cute 35 year old widow who had two rambunctious boys.  (George had a teenager to babysit so Judy wouldn’t be disturbed during the meeting).  Then there was Tabitha, who was from Africa, Kenya to be exact.  Aaron, the former pastor and his wife Cheryl, were the first to show, and Charles Okinyi, the Kenyan with two wives back in his home country.  It was almost 7:00 and time to start when the doorbell rang again.

            Juanita answered the door.  “Hello, Juanita,” Shawanda said.

            “Well . . . hello . . . Shawanda?”  She said almost not believing her eyes.  This playful tomboyish girl had cleaned up well and now was speaking so formally.

            Shawanda wore a beautiful patterned A line dress that came down just below the knees.  She was wearing hose and 3 inch heels, which of course gave her the appearance of being taller and more slender than she was.  Her hair, which had previously been worn in a ponytail, now was well groomed and stood out full and lovely draping over her shoulders.  Her cosmetics were light and almost imperceptible but she glowed with a radiant beauty.  This was all topped off by a very pleasant smile, which was quite different than smirks she usually gave off while wise cracking with George, Juanita’s husband.

            Beside her stood a tall, dark brown skinned man.  Shawanda introduced him.

            “This is my friend Jesse King.  Jesse, this is Juanita Meadows.”

            Jesse nodded slightly and didn’t bother to take off the sunglasses he wore even as he entered the house.

            The rest of the group were already downstairs in the den as Shawanda and her friend made their way down. 

            George looked up and noticed the beautiful tan hosed legs that appeared first and wondered who was this stranger that Juantita had invited.  As she descended the room quieted and the rustle of her silky slip as it brushed against her nylon covered thighs beneath the dress could be heard as Shawanda came into full view and George rocked back for a moment and dropped his mouth open involuntarily.  He was stunned by her beauty.

            Of course close behind her came Jesse King, wearing gray slacks, a tan turtle neck shirt, and a navy blue blazer.  And he was still wearing his sunglasses, giving a very ominous appearance.

            Now it was George’s turn to feel a tinge of jealousy although he had no right to.  As they were all making introductions, Jesse stood silently, nodding occasionally, and offering not much more than grunts of sound.  He never smiled and that unnerved George.  Who is this character, he thought, and why is he with Shawanda.  What are his intentions.

            “Unfortunately, we’ll have to leave early tonight,” Shawanda announced.  “We’re having a late dinner at the Lucky Lady.”  George had heard of the Lucky Lady.  It was more of a bar than a restaurant, that also had dancing and had troubling reports of violent events in the newspaper on occasion.

            George was concerned for Shawanda’s safety and her physical and spiritual well being, but he knew he couldn’t say anything.

            After everyone was seated with cups of coffee, tea and hot chocolate they sat around in a circle and occasionally grabbing doughnuts or sweet rolls from the platter on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

            “This fellowship is going to be different than what most people know as an ordinary church service,” Aaron began.  “We want to fellowship and eat together, pray together and study God’s word.  Those of us who have a little more background in spiritual things will do our best to help make sure we are all progressing spiritually.  I’ll be assisted by George, who has been to Bible college and Charles, who, well . . . let’s just say he is a real student of the word.”

            He paused for a moment as he looked around the room to see if everyone was taking in what he was saying.  Everyone seemed pleased except for Jesse, who sat with his legs crossed, his arms folded over his chest, and his shades still covering his eyes.

            “Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself, Jesse,” Aaron suggested, trying to draw him out a little.

            “Mmph -” Jesse started with a guttural grunt.  “First of all, I don’t believe much in this God stuff and second, I want to know what you really want from my girl Shawanda.  So if you want the truth, I just came to check you out and make sure you weren’t some type of cult group trying to take advantage of her.”

            Aaron cringed at the word ‘cult’ and looked to Charles for help.

            “I can assure you” Charles began “that we are not, nor will we ever be, a cult . . .”

            Jesse broke in before he could finish: “Right!  And you, my man, are being duped by these white folks.  What are you, fresh off the boat from Haiti or Jamaica?”

            “Actually I’m from the Western part of Kenya . . .” Charles began.

            “Whatever,” Jesse interjected, “You haven’t been here long enough to know that the white man in America is only going to be your friend as long as he can use you in one way or another.”

            “Jesse!”  Shawanda called his name as she put a hand on his arm, indicating that he had said enough.

            He turned his head toward her direction and then back again as he pointed toward Charles.  “Now I think the brother is being used, unknowingly, to bring in African Americans like you.  There’s no telling what kind of no good intentions they have!” Jesse shouted.

            Shawanda stood up “I’m sorry, Juanita,” she said as she grabbed Jesse’s hand.  “I think we need to leave.”  She marched up the stairs and Jesse followed without another word and without looking back.

            Aaron took a deep breath and blew it out his mouth.  “Don’t be discouraged, Pastor.” Judy Chandler offered.  “There will be others that will come.

            Aaron leaned back in the chair and said “Whew!  Where did all that come from?”

            George furrowed his brow and thought about Shawanda’s friend Jesse and whether she’d be safe with him.  He kept thinking about the Lucky Lady.  Being more of a tavern than a restaurant and with its reputation of bad things happening there, he was concerned.  When he came out of his private musings, he heard Aaron teaching about cults and showing why they weren’t one.

            “A cult,” Aaron began, “is a pseudo religious group that brainwashes innocent people to the detriment of themselves and sometimes society.  This is possible because of their lack of understanding of Scripture.”

            “Why don’t you show some of the characteristics of cults,” Charles suggested.

            “Well,” Aaron started as he followed Charles’ suggestion, “they often times have a strong, charismatic type of leader that everyone looks up to.  He presents himself as a messiah or the prophet of God or the only spokesman for God.  A cult leader would not have two strong men of God working along side him as I have in Charles and George.”

            Charles began to interpret.  “It is also true that cults use

1. Love bombing;
2. Isolation;
3. Constant reinforcement of the idea they are the only right ones;
4. Peer group pressure to make sure everyone comes into conformity with the group;
5. Material dependence;
6. Psychic dependence to the point that no one can make any decisions without checking with the leader;
7. And finally, number seven is fear.  People are told that if they leave the group they may die or something bad will happen to them.” Charles concluded.

            “We certainly won’t be using those type of tactics” Aaron stated flatly.  “So just because we’re not meeting in a building with a steeple and a cross on it does not mean we’re a cult,” Cheryl said.

            “Right!” Aaron responded.

            George had remained quiet during the session because his thoughts were elsewhere.  He didn’t like the idea of Shawanda being with this Jesse King fellow.  He wondered if he would see him again.  He would, but the next confrontation would prove to be far worse than the first.

            They finished the evening in discussions of the hopes they had for the group and how they would each help it grow, but George’s mind was more on Shawanda.  And Juanita knew it.