Church Folk - Michele Andrea Bowen [63]
Otis put his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray and reached for the cup with the most liquor in it. "I was about to ask if there was anything, other than Miss Precious, worth having in this office."
"Now, Bishop, it is my duty to please you."
"And you think letting me face off with your secretary was pleasing to me, Marcel?"
Marcel didn't answer that but just asked, "Do you need anything else?"
"Precious Powers would be just what the doctor ordered after a few cups of this stuff."
Marcel swallowed hard and said, "Can't help you there. I'm afraid Precious draws the line at bishops."
Caruthers set his cup on a hand-carved wooden coaster on the desk and leaned back in his chair, letting Marcel sweat a few moments. He was talking about Precious as much to unsettle Marcel as anything else. He knew all about Precious, that disaster-waiting-to-happen with his pending marriage to Saphronia McComb, and those secret trysts with Jackie Giles. If Lawson ever found out that the son of his favorite pastor put his hands on his wife, there would be hell to pay, both for Marcel and his daddy.
"Knowledge is power" was the name of Bishop Otis Caruthers's tune.
"Did Cleotis Clayton contact you?" he asked Marcel.
Marcel poured himself a refill and downed it in three quick gulps. The liquor was strong and made him wince and bite his teeth together, hitting him so hard his eyes burned. "What does Cleotis Clayton have to do with you and me?" he asked. "He said he would endorse my daddy's campaign for bishop if we publicly endorsed the new Clayton funeral home he was opening in Richmond, Virginia, at the Triennial Conference, this year."
Otis sat up in his chair and fingered his cup for a second or two. He said, "Marcel, do you remember me telling you that I knew of someone who wanted to make some extra money as much as we do?"
"Umm, hmm," Marcel said, getting kind of worried. He had a sinking feeling that endorsement from Cleotis Clayton had some extra strings to it and that Bishop Caruthers was the one pulling them. It looked like Jackie Giles was turning into one overpriced good time, with the price of silence going up.
"Marcel, it's no secret that I am fed up with being on location. The money they throw my way is peanuts and I am constantly at the mercy of tight-fisted jive-timers like Percy Jennings."
Gospel United Church bishops earned a modest base salary from the denomination itself. It was perks that made so many of them fat in the pockets—birthday and anniversary gifts from pastors wanting favors, love offerings taken up at every church they visited, money earned from sitting on various boards in their communities, money earned as guest speakers at churches in and out of their districts, and so much more. Otis Caruthers, as a located bishop, or a bishop who had been suspended by the denomination for questionable behavior, couldn't cash in on any of these perks because they were all connected to presiding over a district.
"I get by on my little odds and ends," Caruthers was saying. He looked meaningfully at Marcel, who now opened his desk drawer. He took out a fat brown envelope stuffed with fives, tens, and twenties and pushed it across the desk to Bishop Caruthers, who let it sit there.
"But, Marcel," he went on, "at this year's Triennial Conference I am determined to get my district back. That's going to take some cash."
Marcel leaned on his elbows and looked straight at Caruthers. "People are afraid to support you," he said. "The daddy and mama of that little teenage girl you tried to pick up raised so much mess that every bishop had to vote to censure you. No one's going to break out of the pack. They're all afraid it will hurt their careers."
"That's where the cash comes in," Caruthers said.
"You mean for payoffs? To buy votes?" Marcel asked. "I cannot begin to imagine what you think will bring in enough money to buy you the votes you'd need to get reinstated to a district. Bishop, there simply isn't that much money floating around this denomination to get you