The Choir Director Read Online Free Page A

the front door. I was greeted by Reverend Alfred Jenkins, a short, heavyset, light-skinned man in his early forties. He was the newly appointed pastor of our church, and technically, he was my boss. Reverend Jenkins was accompanied by a tall, stately looking, brown-skinned man with salt-and-pepper hair and a well-maintained beard. I still wasn’t sure where, but I was now positive we’d met before.
    I halfway blocked the door, because Reverend Jenkins had a way of just entering your house without an invitation. “Hey,Rev, sorry it took so long for me to answer the door, but I was half dressed. I was just about to jump in the shower and head up to Richmond.”
    “No, no, Mackie. You don’t have to apologize. I tried to give you a heads-up, but you didn’t answer the phone, so I just came over. I wanted to introduce you to a good friend of mine from New York. He’s got a proposition he wants to run by you. You don’t mind if we come in for a moment, do you?”
    I should add that Reverend Jenkins wasn’t one to take a hint, either, because most people would figure if you don’t answer the phone, you’re busy.
    “Ah, well, sure, come on in. The place is a mess, but you’re always welcome in my house, Reverend. I hope you understand we’re gonna have to make it quick, though. I really have to get up to Richmond.”
    “No problem. This should only take about ten, fifteen minutes tops.”
    “Okay.” I gestured for them to come in and have a seat.
    Reverend Jenkins’s friend sat down in the armchair, while the pastor and I sat across from him on the sofa.
    “Aaron Mackie, I’d like you to meet my good friend Bishop T. K. Wilson of Queens, New York.”
    When he said the name, it all clicked. “Bishop Wilson, I think we met a few years ago when Pastor Simmons was alive.” I offered him my hand and he took it. “You got a pretty big church up there in New York, don’t you? First Jamaica Ministries?”
    The bishop smiled, nodding as we shook hands. “I’m impressed you remember my church.”
    “Well, I’ve seen you on TV a few times, and I’m a choir director. Everyone in my field knows First Jamaica Ministries won the national choir championship three years in a row a few years back. It’s hard enough to win that championship one time, but three years in a row, that’s one heck of an achievement.”
    “Well, thank you,” the bishop said.
    “Y’all had Savannah singing for you back then, didn’t you?”
    “We sure did.” He gave me a proud smile. “That young lady really could sing.”
    “She sure could. You guys would have been unstoppable if she had stuck around. I saw her on TMZ last summer. It’s a shame what happened to her career.”
    “It truly is, but that’s what drugs will do to you. I don’t know if we’ll ever see the old Savannah again. She blew a great opportunity … which is kind of why I’m here to see you.”
    I raised my eyebrows. If this was going where I thought it was …
    “We have a vacancy at First Jamaica Ministries, and I’d like you to fill it. I’d like you to be my choir director.”
    I turned toward Reverend Jenkins. “Is he serious?”
    He wrapped his large arm around my shoulder. “Yes, Mackie, he’s serious. But I’ve already told Bishop Wilson that you weren’t going anywhere, that you and I made a promise to Pastor Simmons before he died that we were going to take our church to the next level together. However, with the kind of money Bishop Wilson put on the table, I had to let you hear the offer for yourself, make your own decision. But I know you’re going to do the right thing.”
    “Offer? What kind of offer are we talking about?” I turned back to the bishop.
    “Aaron. Can I call you Aaron?” he asked.
    “Call me Mackie. That’s what everyone around here does.”
    “Okay, Mackie it is.” The bishop nodded. “Now, I heard your choir today. You guys were fantastic for your size. And, brother, let me tell you, you have one phenomenal