Kitty

Kitty always sits in the first row since she enjoys Pastor Michael's sermons.

Jerome sits beside her and snores almost all the way through the sermon, but he can talk about it better than most people who keep their eyes open.

Tyrone and Ethel sit together, but they think nobody knows they've been shagging since Ethel's husband died. Shame some people just pretend all the time like that, even when they're in their seventies.

Then there's Jamal and Cue, who neither finished school nor attended church regularly because they wanted to please their mommas.

"That pastor makes me sick. He's probably diddling little kids," Cue said.

"Cue, what the hell? Of course, he ain't. Man, why do you have to say that shit?"

"Not everyone has the same childhood, you know!" Cue said.

"Dope, let's get to business. What have you got for me?" Jamal said.

"Over 15 grand. That's what I got for you." Cue smiled and put his hand out for Jamal to slap.

Jamal grabbed his hand and said, "And how'd you do that with the amount of product I gave you?"

Cue pushed his hand away and said, "Chill, now you're out of line on this one. I stole a lot of products from Otis, but nobody knows. So I've been mixing it with what you give me so nobody can tell."

"Well, now. That product is mine. Bring it all to me. Now. Let's go."

"Jamal, are you crazy? We can't be seen together outside the walls of this church. You know that."

"I said, Go get it and bring it to me now. Or tell me where it is, and I'll go get it myself," Jamal said.

"Fine, I'll get it and deliver it to this address." He handed Jamal a paper, knowing that Jamal would probably not be able to read it and would have to bring another person into the mix. Cue was betting on that person being his mother.

"What's this shit? Tell me where now, or I'll shoot your toes off individually." Jamal didn't smile, nor did he stutter. The lines on his face remained deep and locked in place.

"352 Antigua, Condominium, #20 at 4:00 p.m."

The two men parted ways and awaited their next meeting.

#

Before they met this time, Cue knew better than to go in without an exit plan and a guarantee that someone would kill Jamal if need be.

Jamal entered the house politely with his gun drawn, his language easy to understand, "Yo bitches, come out with the goods! I got somebody here who wants a word with y'all."

Jamal stepped aside, and someone said. "Yo, this is Otis. Whoot the fuck's got my product? I warn you. I know your name and where you live. Diggin' it? So show yourself, little Cue."

"I only did it because Jamal told me to, Otis," Cue cried, straining his lips into a frown.

"That so!" He turned to look at Jamal. Jamal shook his head with his eyes closed, which is probably why he didn't see what was down next.

He heard two gunshots. He dropped to the ground. Someone grabbed him and dragged him out with them. There was a lot of smoke since someone tossed a smoke bomb or two into the place.

Cue grabbed Jamal's stash and the money Otis had on him. "Here, take this," he said, handing a gun to Jamal, who was running to the car. Once they got into the car, they stripped their clothing and shoes and placed them inside the bags. They drove to the country, and deep inside the wilderness, they had a fire to destroy the evidence.

Once they knew the only evidence left was the gun, they took it and threw it into a cave where they used to swim. Nobody would find it there. If they did, it would be wiped clean, and there would be no connection between them, only to Otis.

At the scene, Otis was bleeding out. Gasping for help while he held his throat. The other men left him to die except for one. Shortie G. He tied a tourniquet to the bleeding area, swept Otis up and headed to the hospital.

"Don't worry, Otis, baby. I have a story for this one. Just relax and let Shortie G. take care of you."

Otis knew that he would've been dead without Shortie G.'s quick thinking. Shortie G. visited daily until Otis could talk and move around for himself. Then, Shortie G. stopped coming.

Neither Jamal nor Cue could walk freely around town anymore, and Otis' men had the church covered for any sign of the two. The only issue now was the death of Jamal's mother. Jamal would definitely come to the funeral.

Otis sat in the front row of the church at the celebration of life. When it was time to pay respects, a line formed. Behind the little old ladies was Otis. He had never seen Jamal's mother before, so he had no idea that the woman he saw was a Playboy Bunny who had been put there to distract him.

Indeed, he was. He looked at her. And stared around the church. Then he looked at her again. Then he looked at her face. Watching for signs of breathing. That was around the same time the pastor came around, stinking of gin and bumped into him. Otis hit the casket and knocked it over.

Shortly after that, Otis tripped and lay atop the woman in the casket. She grabbed him and gave him a bear hug. He screamed.

"Help. This bitch ain't dead yet. Help!" As he tried to scramble to his feet.

When he got to his feet, he froze. Jamal and Cue had him cornered along with the police. They had finally got Otis "Bad Boy" Baylis. He put his hands together so the police could cuff him.

After the police cuffed him, they took him to the station. The chief himself commended the officers, Jamal and Cue.

Otis hadn't only been the biggest drug dealer in the area, he was also the worst smuggler on the planet. He remained hidden, posing as a pastor of a church. Having seen him before, the visiting pastor dressed as a pastor and headed to him directly.

Well, you know the rest now...

"Even when you think you're hiding from others. Someone somewhere knows your secret, Otis, and it always comes out at the most inopportune time," Jamal said.

"Because you can't run from the truth," Cue said.

Otis remained in jail for so long that he almost thought he was born there. And then he died.

Kitty, interviewed in lieu of the 7:00 p.m. mass, realized it had all been a ruse, a complex web of lies, an indecency that the church allowed to happen for money. She said, "Pastor Michael is the nicest pastor the diocese has sent in years."