CHAPTER 5

DESTINY

The week after my twenty-eighth birthday was probably the best week of my life. The beautiful thing was the simplicity of it. I hung out with my aunt, studied the Bible, prayed, went for long walks, and learned all about Belle’s ministry. I was feeling more direction in my life than I ever had.

The odd thing was feeling this awesome sense of direction when I had no direct plans. I just knew that I wanted to be a part of my Aunt Belle’s ministry. Financially, I had no money worries. I had a few years salary saved if you calculated it by the average working person’s income.

I also knew for certain that I wanted no part of my old life, except a tiny desire for Sophie to return to me. I also tried to put to rest my fantasy of something developing with Brock. Belle had informed me that he had a long-term girlfriend that was a police detective. For the first time in my life I was feeling somewhat asexual. I say somewhat because although I blocked my fantasies of Brock, I couldn’t stop the reality of seeing him.

When I lost my virginity at the age of sixteen, I felt a sense of emptiness afterward. At the time, I figured a lot of it had to do with youth and inexperience. The encounter was physically painful, and my boyfriend seemed to be enraptured in his own pleasure. It wasn’t a fond memory at all. Someone’s first time should be in a committed relationship with love anchoring the promise of a future together.

 Regardless of being disappointed with fornication, I continued to accommodate my boyfriend.  My second and third boyfriends weren’t any better. As a matter of fact they were worse. My second boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend. She quickly became my former friend, and I got revenge by doing a video with his friend. It was my first step toward adult entertainment.

I was still a senior in high school and terrified that my father would find out. It ended up on the internet, and he did. But not because he came across it. One of my step siblings told him. The contention between my dad and me was so bad, I moved in with a friend’s older sister. To this day, I’m not sure if he kicked me out or if I ran away.

It wasn’t long before my twenty two year old roommate began seducing me. She seemed so mature and worldly wise. I was in awe of her and wanted to please her. So not long after I moved in with her, when we were sharing a couple cocktails, she tried to kiss me. I enthusiastically kissed her back, and she became my first female lover.

She was pretty and petite. But her breast implants were so disproportionate with her small frame that I promised myself I would never get cosmetic surgery, and I never did. She was a former gymnast who had transferred her talents to a stripper’s pole. Men certainly didn’t seem to mind her unnatural chest, not by a long shot.

It was her influence that led me to exotic dancing. However, she actually tried to dissuade me from taking to the stage myself. I thought she was looking out for my best interests at the time, especially after I did my first private lap dance. But I found out later that she viewed me as competition. Regardless of her intentions, if I had heeded her advice, maybe I could have avoided a decade in the pit of sin.

But what ifs are usually an endless train. What if I hadn’t looked up my aunt? What if I had followed through with my suicidal desires? What if Brock and I had gotten together after he saved me that awful night nine years previous? Instead we lived over a thousand miles apart. What if he had been my first boyfriend? What if he didn’t have that girlfriend who reminded me of my ex, Sophie? Now I’m getting ahead of myself.

It was strange seeing the subject of my most persistent fantasy every week at church. Yet there were a couple of things that created an odd oxymoron. For one thing, I knew that he had a serious girlfriend. And for another thing, I was rapidly becoming spiritually minded rather than carnally minded. Over the next few weeks, I literally had traded Bible text over sex.

For the first time in my adult life, I didn’t desire sexual contact with another human being. I became conscious of spiritual realities. My aunt had given me many things to study in the Bible, but I kept returning to certain verses that seemed to be speaking directly to me. Romans 1:24-26 was a prime example. Having been in the sex industry, worshipping the creature more than the creator was crystal clear to me.

About a month after I had first looked Aunt Belle up, I decided that I wanted to be baptized and officially join Cotton Creek Cove Fellowship. I talked to Pastor Samson before the church service and told him my desire.

He was delighted, and suggested that my aunt do the honors of burying me in baptism. I got choked up thinking of the significance of my Aunt Belle performing the ceremony. The woman who very well may have saved my life. She would be the one helping me rise from the watery grave that represented being reborn to newness of life in Christ. Pastor invited the congregation to join us the following Sabbath at Cotton Creek as I publicly proclaimed my acceptance of Jesus as my Lord and Savior.

As the pastor was making this announcement regarding my impending baptism, Brock showed up with his significant other. I stared at first because I thought he was with my ex, Sophie. But then I immediately noticed that unlike my ex, she had no visible tattoos. However, my ex and Brock’s lady friend could easily pass for sisters.

 Brock’s companion wore a tan skirt with a white blouse. The skirt was several inches above the knee and seemed a bit racy for this conservative church. It hiked up even further when she sat. She crossed one shapely leg over the other. I looked away before multiple wrong thoughts tormented my brain.

“Belle,” I whispered to my aunt. “Is that Brock’s girlfriend?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Does she come often?”

“It seems she comes to church with him once or twice a month.”

“She’s beautiful,” I acknowledged.

Belle gazed at her coolly. “On the outside, she is.”

I wondered what she meant by that, but now wasn’t the time or place to have that discussion.

About halfway through the service, Brock’s girlfriend got up and abruptly walked to the foyer. A couple of minutes later, she returned and whispered something to Brock. He nodded and she left the church. I recalled Belle telling me that she was a police detective, and I guessed that was why she suddenly left.

After the service, we were preparing for the fellowship potluck meal when I felt a gentle hand at the small of my back and a voice with a hint of warm, cinnamon breath inches from my ear. I felt a tingling sensation race up my spine and down my legs.

“Are you free this afternoon?” Brock’s deep, fluid voice asked me. The  warm, pleasant tingle coursed through me again. Was feeling desire for him wrong?

“Yeah, sure,” I replied, a little unsettled. My pulse quickened. “What’s up?”

“I just want to talk, okay?” Brock asked, removing his hand from my back.

“Sure,” I tried not to stammer. “Anything in particular?”

“Mainly your upcoming baptism.”

“Okay,” I said, frowning a little. Did he think I was unworthy? Belle assured me that all have sinned and come short of the glory of God. “Is your lady friend going to join us?”

“No,” Brock said a little too abruptly. “She’s a cop in Des Moines. She got called away. There was a break in a case she and her partner have been working on.”

“She’s very pretty,” I told him.

Brock nodded as he seemed to search my eyes. Did he think that I found her desirable? Since he had kept tabs on me, surely he realized my ex bore a remarkable resemblance to his girlfriend. The thought flickered through my mind that it wasn’t me that his lady friend resembled.

“Look, I’ll let you get back to your task,” he told me.

“Okay.”

“So we’re on then?” Brock asked. “Maybe we could take a walk to Cotton Creek after the fellowship meal?”

“Sounds good,” I said, trying to give a cheerful, carefree smile.

Brock and I returned to the same spot as our last chat. Once again, I marveled at how lovely it was with the trees and babbling brook. What a perfect place to get baptized!

“So,” I said with a coy smile. “Do you want to tell me I’m not fit to be baptized?”

“No, not at all,” Brock replied as his eyes widened. “But I don’t really know how to put into words what I do want to discuss. I mean, I’ve thought about getting baptized myself, but I never feel ready. Do you know what I mean?”

“Not really,” I admitted.

“You see, you take Nora…,” he said.

“Nora is your lady friend, right?” I interrupted.

“Yes,” he replied. “She’s probably my biggest stumbling block. For one thing, she doesn’t believe like I do. Shoot, I don’t even know what I believe most of the time.”

“Do you believe Jesus died for your sins?” I asked.

“Most definitely,” he replied without hesitation. “I looked into the historical facts about Jesus. It’s undeniable. It’s the other stuff, like the details of obedience and what’s required of us. Plus the fact that I’ve never met Him or talked to Him.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“Well, once again, my situation with Nora,” he said. “She and I are, um, intimate. By the letter of the law we’re fornicating, but on the other hand we’re two consenting adults.”

I felt a pang of jealousy over Nora getting to be intimate with Brock. I even had a little pang over Brock getting to be intimate with Nora… I immediately shook off the thought.

“Why are you shaking your head?” Brock asked me.

“Oh nothing,” I said, hoping that I wasn’t blushing. “I’m just trying to process what you’re saying. So do you feel comfortable, then? I mean, like, a clear conscious with your relationship with Nora?”

“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I guess I’m not convicted enough to stop being with her either. Or I’m simply just a weak, sin-loving reprobate.”

I couldn’t help chuckling a little. “How long have you two been together?”

“Six years, for the most part.”

“What do mean, ‘for the most part’?”

“We broke up for a couple of months when I moved here from Miami,” Brock said.

“So then you patched things up and she moved here?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “She got a job in Des Moines and then we got back together.”

I frowned. “So she moved to Iowa without knowing that you two would be getting back together?”

“She was going to, anyway,” he replied. “She said that she wanted a change in her own life and the job in Des Moines, regardless of whether she and I worked out as a couple.”

“After six years, have you two considered marriage?” I asked.

“I asked her, but she keeps putting it off. I guess you could say that she’s married to her career. Plus, her given name is Dayanara. It’s Puerto Rican. Do you know what Dayanara means?”

“Not a clue.”

“Husband slayer,” he said with wide, serious eyes.

I couldn’t help it – I started laughing. What made it so funny was this big, absolutely muscle-ripped martial artist seeming to be somewhat fearful of a girl. Albeit a tough one.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding emphatically, his eyes getting even wider. “And she’s not beyond it, believe me.”

I started laughing so hard my eyes began to tear up. Brock looked at me patiently, and then he smirked.

“I’m sorry,” I told Brock as I wiped the corners of my eyes.

“No need,” he replied, chuckling. “It is kind of funny… So, did I hear Captain Kirk say your Aunt Belle is the one baptizing you next week?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” I replied. “I’m so glad he suggested it. She’s helped me so much.”

“That’s cool,” Brock said. “I’ve only seen two baptisms since I’ve been coming here, and Captain Kirk did them both.”

“Apparently when Belle brings somebody into the fold, so to speak,” I said. “Captain Kirk encourages her to perform the rite.”

Brock nodded. “So how have you resolved your sexual preference? My oldest brother was gay. From talking to him, it seems to me like you can’t just turn it off.”

“You said he was gay so he must have found a way to turn it off.”

“He did,” Brock said sounding contrite. “He died.”

“Oh, Brock, I’m so sorry,” I said putting my hand on his forearm, feeling like an absolute idiot. “How long ago?”

 “Ten years,” he said.

“How?”

“Complications from AIDS.”

“How sad.”

“It was tragic.”

We were silent for a minute as we stared at the rippling water of the creek. I realized that my hand still rested on his hard, muscular forearm. I eased it away.

“So tell me now, how have you resolved your sexual preference?” Brock persisted. “To be honest, sexual matters are the biggest reason I’m not baptized yet.”

“So, are you bisexual then?”

“What? No, I’m talking about my nontraditional relationship with Nora, as well as my gay brother. I know enough about what the Bible teaches, and how Cotton Creek Cove adheres to Bible truth. I know that you were in a long term relationship with a woman. If it’s not too personal, I’d like to know where you stand on sexual matters.”

“Brock, I don’t know if I’m qualified to answer that,” I replied. “I’m just a babe in Christ.”

“Yes, you are,” Brock responded huskily as he looked at me lustily.

I felt my eyes widen as we looked at each other. I bit my lower lip as my brain froze for a few seconds. “I mean, I’m brand new to the Bible and Christianity.”

“Oh, right, yeah, I know what you meant,” Brock stammered. “Sorry if that came across wrong.”

“It’s okay,” I said quickly. I turned away from him as I tugged my skirt down, even though it was already below my knees. Then I clasped my hands together and pushed them between my thighs as my brain raced out of control.

Brock had a girlfriend! But they weren’t married. Was all still fair in love and war? What a dumb saying. Brock was off limits, period.

“I just think you’re beautiful, Dee,” Brock told me, using my nickname for the first time. Then he chuckled. “I’m actually glad your preference is women.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s always kept my desires for you at bay. I mean, not that you’d want a guy like me if you weren’t, you know…”

“You have to realize that I’m actually bisexual,” I replied a little too quickly. “True, my intimate history has been mostly with women. However, my deepest desire ever since I was a little girl was to be with a man. To get married and have kids, the white picket fence and all. I guess that I am just picky when it comes to guys. In my former profession I was around too many undesirable guys. I do know this much. If I’m ever in an intimate relationship again, it will be with a man and we will be married first before being, um, intimate.”

“So what type of guy are you attracted to, the androgynous type?”

“No, silly,” I said, giving his upper arm a push. Man, he was rock hard! Why did I keep touching him? Was I coming off as flirtatious? “My dream guy is rather manly.”

“Oh, yeah?” Brock said with a big, mischievous grin. “Is this a real guy or a creation of your imagination?”

“I guess you could say both,” I told him. “My point is, I don’t think I’m qualified to answer a spiritual question about being gay.”

“You were in a gay relationship, right?”

“You know I was.”

“That qualifies you in my eyes. So I want to know your opinion. Is the Bible intolerant of gay people?”

“I believe the Bible is intolerant of sin in general, and it’s sinners that are intolerant of the Bible. Like I said, I’m new to this. But I’ve already have gotten a taste of people who say the Bible teaches hate, just because it proclaims a different opinion than theirs. It seems pretty narcissistic to be offended because someone has a different opinion than your own. Like my Aunt Belle says God hates the sin but He loves the sinner.

“Those people who believe the Bible teaches hate obviously haven’t studied the gospel very thoroughly. Look at what Jesus did for us in dying a cruel death for our sins. How can you possibly call that hate? Yet I’m not offended, or think you don’t have the right to feel that way.”

“What about the God of the Old Testament?” Brock inquired. “It seems He was pretty violent and vengeful.”

“I’d say we can’t relate from one generation to another now. How can we possibly relate to a culture thousands of years ago? I mean in Sodom and Gomorrah, men were demanding that Lot send angels disguised as men out so they could have sex with them (Genesis 19:1-5) That’s pretty wicked. Before the flood, God was sorry that He made man (Genesis 6:6).

“I know this much though. Jesus said, if you’ve seen Me, you’ve seen the Father (John 14:9). And there’s been no life more impressive in human history, in my mind, than the life of Jesus. God became a man! Tempted as we are, yet without sin!

“I agree,” he replied, nodding. “But you can’t deny that religionists have persecuted gay people.”

“Religionists murdered Jesus! Religion doesn’t make you right with God. I mean, millions of people have been murdered in the name of God. These people were controlled by Satan, not the Savior. People have not only forgotten, but are unaware of the history of the dark ages. It should be a no brainer that if you are killing someone, especially in the name of God, you couldn’t be more deluded if you think your actions are virtuous.”

Brock was staring at me. Unlike moments ago, it wasn’t adoring. Now it was cold and  hard, and my skin crawled a little under his gaze. He said in low voice. “I’ve killed people.”