The Preacher's Son

With the few customers taken care of, I picked up a rag and proceeded to wipe down the empty tables. I stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of the book store's coffee shop and wiped off the outside tables. Someone had left a newspaper on one of the tables. As I picked it up, the small headline at the bottom of the first page caught my eye: Local Reverend Investigated for Tax Fraud

My mouth fell open in surprise as I skimmed through the article. After all, it's not every day that you see the name you share with your estranged father in print. "Reverend Walter Rockdale is being investigated by the IRS for alleged tax violations.... Allegations of channeling charitable funds into his failing real estate business...."

I folded up the paper and tucked it under my arm while I looked out across the street. A tall muscular man with perfect brown skin and a smooth shaved head walked out of the instant oil change shop. The mechanic raised his beefy arms over his head and stretched. He looked up and down the street, waiting for business I imagine. He turned to the coffee shop and spotted me. I smiled broadly and lifted my hand and waved my fingers.

He grinned at me, and held up his two fingers. His hand slid down to his crotch and he cupped it suggestively for a brief second.

Oh, yeah. I was going to get some tonight.

I nodded my head towards the coffee shop and he tipped up his chin in acknowledgment. I watched him poke his head into his shop and I turned and went back inside. I moved behind the counter and made three large coffees, plus one hot chocolate.

The bell over the door jingled and I looked up to see my handsome man walk in. I put the drinks into a carrier and set it on the counter.

"Hi, Jacks," I said quietly.

"Hey, Wally," he said low and deep, nearly a growl.

"This one's yours," I said pointing to the hot chocolate.

"You so good to me, baby boy." He glanced around and leaned over the counter and whispered seductively, "You got time to go into the back room for a bit?"

He licked his bottom lip as he reached over and ran a large, thick finger over my smaller hand. For a split second I was mesmerized by the contrast of his dark skin touching my pale hand. Remembering where we were, I blushed wildly and my eyes darted around hoping that no one had seen or heard him. "Jacks," I hissed as I pulled my hand away.

"I'm just playin' wit' ya," he said with grin. "I can wait 'til we get home."

He wiggled his eyebrows at me. He dropped a five into the tip jar and leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead, and then picked up the drinks. As he pushed through the front door, he turned back and flashed me one of his charming smiles.

I had a big grin on my face as I watched him cross the street, thinking back on the day that I first met that big hunk of man...

***

The loud pounding on my bedroom door had me nearly falling out of my bed.

"JUNIOR!" Dad yelled through the door. "Get up now! You're wasting the day."

I scrambled out of bed, glancing at the clock. 6:42 AM.

It should be a crime to have to get up this early on a Saturday, especially the one a week after graduating from high school. But I would expect no different from my father. It was my responsibility to make sure the church grounds were taken care of every weekend.

I pulled on a pair of cargo shorts and a t-shirt. I hurried across the hall to the bathroom. After going pee, I washed my face and brushed my teeth.

When I got downstairs, Dad was waiting impatiently in the kitchen. Reverend Walter Rockdale was a formidable man. He was slightly taller than me, and was a bit overweight, but he had a commanding presence. Even though it was a Saturday, he was still dressed in a suit, but he dressed it down by not wearing a tie.

My mother was in the kitchen washing the dishes. She was wearing a knee-length yellow dress with a frilly apron over it. Even at seven in the morning, her hair and makeup were done flawlessly. She looked very much like a Stepford wife. She looked over her shoulder at me and frowned. "You missed breakfast. You'll have to make do with a banana or apple."

I grabbed a banana from the bowl on the kitchen table and ate it quickly.

Dad looked at his watch. "Let's go, Junior. The day is wasting. You'll have some help this weekend. The church has voted to participate in a community outreach program. This man is performing community service. I want you to be careful around him. He just got released from jail."

"Jail!" Mother exclaimed as she clutched her chest. "Is it safe for Junior?"

"Junior will be fine," Dad said with a dismissive wave. He turned to me and motioned with his head. "Let's go."

I followed Dad out the back door. The parsonage we lived in was connected to the church next door by a sidewalk that ran along the back of the church. When Dad saw the young black man in front of the church, he bristled visibly.

The young man was standing in front of the church. The first thing I noticed about him was how big he was. He was taller than me, probably about 6'2" or 6'3". He was also built wide and muscular. His hair was cut extremely short, with the sides and back shaved bald. He wore a small goatee on the end of his chin. He had smooth mocha skin. He wore a white Polo shirt, baggy black jeans and tan Timberland boots.

I figured that he was close to my age, maybe older, but I didn't know him. He must have gone to a different high school.

Up close, I could see that he had dark, chocolate brown eyes and was extremely good looking. His eyes looked me up and down, but his face was expressionless.

Dad looked at the man and introduced me, "This is my son, Walt. Uh, what's your name then?"

"Jackson Carter."

"Right. He'll get you started." Dad looked down at his watch. "I have to run downtown, and then I have a board meeting."

Dad walked off, leaving me with the young man. I swallowed nervously. "I'm Walt Rockdale," I said quietly.

I shook his hand. His big hand practically swallowed mine up. He had a very firm grip and squeezed my hand to the point that it started to hurt.

"Jackson," I said with a nod as I pulled my hand from his. "Okay. I usually mow first. So maybe you can mow and I'll do the weeder?"

Jackson shrugged. He followed me next door to the tool shed located in the back yard behind the parsonage. I opened it up and propped the door open with a rock. He grabbed the mower and I grabbed the weed whacker and we got to work.

I finished with the weeder at around 11:30. My stomach was rumbling and I decided it would be a good time to break for lunch. I walked around the church and found Jackson mowing his last stretch.

He had taken off his polo shirt and shoved it into the back of his jeans, letting it hang behind him. The white wife-beater he wore was soaked with sweat and showed off his muscular chest and big arms. His stomach was nearly flat, and it looked hard. He had a gold chain around his neck and it sparkled and glinted in the sunlight.

Once he finished, he let go of the handle and the mower shut off. He wiped his brow with his forearm and nodded his head towards me.

"Hi," I said. "I was going to take a lunch break. Um... Did you bring anything for lunch? You're welcome to eat with me. We have plenty... If you want... I guess."

Jeez, I felt like a babbling moron. But the big, handsome man made me nervous.

He looked like he was debating back and forth over my offer for a few seconds. Then his stomach rumbled. Loudly. I pretended not to notice and after a few seconds, he finally nodded. "Sure."

He followed me around the back of the church and we walked up the walkway to our house. When we stepped into the back door, Mother looked up and gasped.

"You scared me, Junior," she said as her eyes darted between me and Jackson. I knew that it wasn't me who scared her and it wasn't because I startled her. Jackson ducked his head down and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"We were going to have our lunch break," I said, looking at her with a slight frown.

"Oh, well, you can't come in here looking like that. Go out back. I'll bring it out."

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I didn't. I ate lunch at the kitchen table all the time 'looking like that' and she never cared before. No, she didn't want Jackson in the house. I thought it incredibly insensitive.

I went to the fridge and grabbed two cans of Sprite and two bottles of water and nodded for Jackson to follow me. Our patio was made up of stone pavers and we had a little table and chair set complete with a patio umbrella to provide shade over the table. Jackson and I sat down and I gave him the soda and a water. We popped the sodas open and took a big drink.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

"You're welcome."

I watched a bead of sweat drip down his temple onto his thick, corded neck. My eyes followed the curve of his neck down his shoulder to his big bicep.

"Your mama is scared of me," he said with a half smile.

"Oh. I'm sure she was just..." I was going to try to make an excuse for her, but I couldn't think of a good one, so I just apologized for her instead. "I'm sorry."

Jackson shrugged. "Whatever."

He leaned back in his chair and stared at me while he sipped his soda.

"Junior?" Mother called out from the doorway.

I got up and took the tray from her. She quickly shut the door as I stepped back. I rolled my eyes and carried the tray of sandwiches and chips to the table. "Dig in."

We both grabbed a paper plate and a sandwich. I poured some of the chips onto my plate and handed the bag to Jackson.

"Thanks," Jackson said.

"You're welcome."

We sat there for a while in silence until Jackson finally spoke. "So, how old are you?"

"I'm eighteen. I just graduated. How old are you?"

"I'm twenty."

"So what did you do?" As soon as the question slipped out of my mouth, I gasped and covered it in shock. "Sorry. That's not any of my business."

Jackson shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal for me to ask. "Joyriding."

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. "You stole a car?"

"Well, technically, my cousin stole it, but he picked me up and I went along for the ride. Did three months in county. I'm on probation now. Got community service."

"Oh. Wow. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I fucked up. But I'm getting my life back together."

"That's good. Good for you, Jackson."

Jackson grabbed another sandwich and I noticed him staring at my left hand. "You married?" he asked in surprise.

I looked down at the gold band on my left ring finger. "Oh, jeez," I muttered and pushed my hands under the table. The temperature felt like it shot up ten degrees.

"It's a purity ring," I said quietly as I squirmed in embarrassment. I really didn't want Jackson to think that I was some kind of Jesus freak prude.

He looked at me confused.

"My parents make me wear it," I added.

He didn't respond, but kind of shrugged. We ate the rest of our lunch in silence and then we went back to work. He pulled weeds while I trimmed the bushes. By mid-afternoon everything was done. We brought everything back to the shed and got it all put away quickly.

"Man, I gotta take a piss," Jackson said impatiently.

"Oh. Okay," I said, surprised at his frankness. I could feel warmth creeping onto my cheeks. "I gotta go, too. Come on."

"Your mama won't let me in the house. I'll just go back here."

Jackson walked behind the shed and I stood around the corner waiting for him.

"Don't you gotta go?" he asked.

"Yeah."

I stepped around the corner and faced the back of the shed. I was standing about a yard away from the other man. My face felt like it was on fire. My body was literally shaking as I begged and prayed for the strength to not look over at him. But then, maybe he wanted me to look. He was the one that called me back there.

Don't look. Don't look. Don't look.

Jackson let loose with a loud, heavy stream. It sounded like he was pouring a pitcher of water into the grass. The sound made my bladder throb. I quickly unzipped my pants and pulled out my dick and started to pee.

I had never in my life done something like this. A smile spread across my face. Mother and Dad would have a cow if they saw what I was doing. What I was doing next to another boy.

I finished peeing and I shook off. Jackson was still standing next to me and I could hear his stream finally dying. I quickly zipped up and stepped around the corner. I let out a deep breath, glad that I was able to control myself for once and not sneak a peek at his penis.

Jackson appeared next to me and he smacked me on the back. I looked up at his grinning face and smiled back. We walked side by side towards the church parking lot. I was very close to him. I could feel the body heat radiating off him and I could smell the sharp odors coming from his sweaty body. My breathing hitched and I swallowed nervously as my penis decided to start pushing against the front of my shorts. I casually brought my hands in front of my groin and clasped them together.

"So what do you do?" he asked me. "For a job?"

"Oh, well, I just got out of school. Monday I start working at the family business full time... real estate."

Jackson nodded. "Sounds like a good job."

"No, it doesn't. I hate it," I confessed quietly.

"Then why do you do it?" he asked.

I looked at him like he was insane. "Because it's what my parents want."

"Hm."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a mechanic. Well, right now I'm working doing oil changes at one of those instant change deals. It's just a'ight. I had a killer job at the best shop in town before I got locked up. That's how I got my bike running. I got it real cheap and the boss let me fix it up on my off hours."

Jackson spoke with pride as he motioned towards the parking lot. A red sport motorcycle was parked in one of the front parking spots.

"Wow, that's awesome."

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'll see you next Saturday. And thanks. You know, for everything."

"Okay. Thanks for your help."

Jackson nodded. He looked me up and down once more. He settled his eyes on me as he looked back at me with a predatory gleam in his eyes. My eyes drifted down towards his mouth as the tip of his pink tongue slipped out and wet his full bottom lip. I looked down at his feet and balled my fists, hoping that it would stop the trembling that was wracking my body. He then pulled his shirt out of his back pocket and pulled it on.

"A'ight then, Wally."

Wally?

I watched him strut to his bike, confident and self-assured. He pulled on the red helmet and started the bike. He held up his two fingers in kind of a sideways peace sign to me, then he leaned forward, gunned the bike's engine and shot out of the parking lot like a rocket.

I just stood there in awe -- eyes wide, lips parted, penis erect -- as I watched him race down the street.

***

Mother passed me the mashed potatoes and I scooped a spoonful onto my plate before handing the bowl to Dad.

She put a piece of roast beef on her plate and held out the platter to me. "Junior, I'd appreciate it if you told that man to bring his own lunch."

I frowned in annoyance. "Why?" I asked.

Dad pointed his fork at me. "Don't backtalk your mother."

"I'm not backtalking, sir. It's just... We have plenty of food. He was hungry."

"Well, I don't feel safe with him here." She turned to Dad and let out a breath. "The way he looked at me!"

I pursed my lips together and thought about what I wanted to say. It wouldn't do to just blurt out what I was thinking: she'd be perfectly safe; I was the one who should be 'worried'. Instead, I said, "Mother, I think you may be over-dramatic."

A sharp burst of pain boxed my ear and I flinched away from Dad. I grabbed my ear and focused my eyes on Dad's raised fist.

"You watch your tone, boy."

"I won't have him in my home," Mother said as she shook her head.

"Walt, you're young and naïve," Dad said. "You need to be careful around those people. He's an ex-con. You let him in this house and he'll steal everything we've got, make you watch while he rapes your mother, then kill the both of you. Is that what you want?"

Mother clutched the neck of her blouse and cried out in shock.

I looked between the two of them, flabbergasted. "Both of you sound unbelievably racist."

Dad slammed his fist on the table, rattling the plates and silverware. "This has nothing to do with the fact that he's black!" he sputtered.

I bit my tongue for a moment, and then calmly and quietly said, "Maybe not, but I know that Jesus would want me to treat him with respect. And denying him food and water after he's worked hard outside in the hot sun all day seems very un-Christ-like." I took a bite of my potatoes. "These are very good, Mother."

His words tossed back in his face seemed to render Dad speechless. I smiled to myself and continued to eat my supper.

***

The next Saturday, I was pleased to find Jackson waiting for me outside the church. He was wearing a tight black tank top, denim shorts and his tan boots. His clothing really showed off his muscular arms and legs.

"Hi, Jackson. Here's some water. We should try to stay hydrated. It's supposed to be hot today."

I gave him a bottle of water and kept one for myself. "If you need more, we have it."

"Thanks, Wally."

He followed me back around to the shed and I opened the door. He pulled out the mower and we got to work. As we started to work, I glanced his way when I thought he wasn't looking. His brown skin was damp with sweat, which reflected the bright sunlight, giving him a glistening aura. He looked like a god. He looked back at me and smiled a crooked smirk and tipped up his chin in a short nod. He had a smile that seemed to battle the sun with all that shine. I blushed and quickly turned away, but then cut my eyes back to him. He was still smiling at me.

At lunch time, I brought him inside. Mother looked at me and then turned on her heel and left the kitchen and went upstairs. I knew when Dad came home later that I would hear about it.

I pulled out the sandwich fixings and made myself a hearty sandwich, plus two for Jackson. I grabbed the bag of chips and handed him his plate.

"Can we eat outside?" he asked.

"We don't have to."

"I want to."

I could see how uncomfortable he was and I didn't want him to feel that way, so I nodded in agreement. I followed Jackson outside and we sat down at the patio table.

"Thanks for lunch," he said.

"You're welcome."

While we ate, my eyes traveled over his body and settled on his huge arm. He lifted his arm and flexed it into a bodybuilder pose, causing his bicep to bulge and ripple. Having been caught blatantly staring, I ducked my head to my plate and took another bite. Jackson just chuckled.

"Do you work out a lot?" I asked. As soon as I said it, I wished I could take it back. I closed my eyes as I felt the blush creeping up my neck.

"Yeah. Pretty regular since ninth grade. And I found myself with a lot of free time the last three months, so I got in a lot of extra workouts."

"Oh," I said, feeling embarrassed at having brought up his stint in jail. "That's good, I guess."

"I played football when I was in school. Was pretty good, too."

He spoke with such pride in his voice and I finally looked up at his face. He was smiling and I couldn't help but smile back. "I wish I was a big guy like you. I'm not good at sports."

The tip of his tongue darted out between his lips as he stared at me. "You fine the way you are."

My cheeks burned bright red and I wondered if what he said had more meaning. "My parents never let me play sports. Mother said it was 'too dangerous for a little guy like me'."

"What'd you do for fun then?"

"I did a lot of reading at home."

"You don't got no brothers or sisters?"

"No," I shook my head. "Just me. You?"