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Fiction Short Story

by  Marsh Pickett

Behold

“My God, Terry! Do you have any idea what this will do to my ministry? Do you have any idea? How could you do this to me after all these years? After all we’ve been through. I thought I knew you, Terry. But now…”

The hospital covers gave little indication a man’s body lay beneath them. Disease left a shell of a human. Each breath labored as if it would be the last. Lungs functioned solely due to oxygen which flowed through a plastic mouthpiece.

“Ed. Ed, listen to me. This goes no further. My partner is dead. He and I swore never to tell.” Terry paused and inhaled through the mouthpiece. “My doctor has the greatest respect for you. My cause of death will be listed as cancer. You are in no danger.”

“I don’t understand why you did this, Terry. My best friend, a homosexual. How did you hide it from me? How could I not have known? God, Terry! This is just too much.”

A pale white right hand removed the tube. “Do you remember when we were in college? You would see me with a woman now and then but it was just for show. Back then you couldn’t announce you were gay. You were on your way to the top even then. You were always so insistent that I be on your team. I loved you, Ed, since we were kids. I couldn’t bring myself to break your heart.”

"What do you think you’re doing right now? When the press and public find out that my right-hand man was a fruit; God, they’ll have a field day with it. You really dropped the big one this time, Terry.”

“I’m about to die, my friend, and the secret dies with me. I wanted you to know the truth. The last thing I do in my life has to be right. I brought this virus on myself by my promiscuous lifestyle. Now, I am about to pay. No one will ever know, Ed. No one.” Terry closed his eyes and replaced the mouthpiece.

The long, tanned index finger of Ed's right hand jabbed at the floor.” You have brought the wrath of God down on you, Terry. I can only hope it does not descend on us all.”

The mouthpiece lifted a little. “They have pulled all my IV’s, Ed. I’ll be gone soon. Please quit looking out the window and come sit with me. Remember that Jesus hated the sin but loved the sinner. Be my friend again, Ed.”

“I have to get on top of this right away. Right now! Goodbye, Terry.”

“Ed! Ed!”

The calls faded as the room door closed behind the tall man dressed in a dark gray chalk-striped suit and bright red necktie. A matching handkerchief peeked from the top pocket of the suit coat. The VIP elevator provided quick access to the waiting stretch limo. Ed slipped into the back seat and headed for the cities poshest, five-star hotel.

Concern for a dying friend did not surface in his thoughts. His entrepreneur mind focused on the measures he needed to take to save his business empire. "If I just don’t say anything. He could have been telling the truth. If anything did get out, Craddock will put a spin on it. It's time he earned his money. Yeah. Just don’t say anything.” Ed sighed and leaned his head back against the soft leather headrest and enjoyed the quiet ride through the city’s busy streets.

One hour prior to showtime, the make-up artist put the finishing touches on Ed's forehead as the choir director knocked on the door and entered the dressing room. “Ed, I have some news I thought you might want to know right away.”

“What is it, Wilson?”

“Terry has died, Ed. I’m so sorry. I know how close you were. I am so sorry. Do you want me to handle the arrangements?"

“Yes. Yes, if you would, Wilson. Thank you very much for helping me at this time.” Wilson left the room and the make-up artist held a mirror in front of Ed’s face.

The largest stadium in America filled to capacity with loyal followers anticipating Brother Ed Morgan's spiritual address. Simultaneous broadcasts throughout the world insured the charismatic preacher’s message reached eager believers across the planet.

Joyous music praise opened the ceremony, followed by a bountiful offering. Brother Ed Morgan, founder of Ed Morgan World Evangelistic Association ascended the stage and waved to the crowd. All eyes focused on the man wearing the red tie with matching pocket-handkerchief. Gold cufflinks shone and shiny shoes glistened in the glare of the stadium lights. His tailored suit accented his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Each strand of salt and pepper hair held in place by expensive hairspray.

Brother Ed tucked his Bible under his left arm, strode to the pulpit, and rested his hands on each side of the lectern. He breathed deeply, paused and looked down at his prepared text. His head rose slowly, he gazed past the crowd and looked into the sky. He felt his lips tighten and his eyes squinted to see his adoring supporters. His mouth drooped as a tear trickled down his tanned cheek and smeared the smooth foundation. Another tear dripped over the right eyelid and another until he wept openly in front of the congregation. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He mumbled while his lips quivered. The attendants had no idea what to do. This was not in the book. Brother Ed Morgan, one of the world’s most powerful evangelists and admired speakers of the Word, crumbled to the floor on his hands and knees and cried his heart out. He screamed over and over, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” The older attendants moved to his aid while the younger ones closed ranks behind them on the stage.

One whispered to another, ”Geez, the old man really lost it. What happened?”

“Hey, you got me. Never seen anything like this before. He was just looking down at his Bible when he started.”

“What was he going to preach on?”

“Don’t know. Let’s ease up and look.”

The two came forward and looked at the Bible of Brother Ed Morgan. The pages were opened to the Eleventh Chapter of John’s Gospel. The passage was clearly marked, “Then said the Jews, Behold how he loved him!”


About the Author
Marsh Pickett Jr. was born and raised in the Mississippi Delta which has given birth to such writers as Willie Morris, Shelby Foote and Walker Percy. He now resides in Tupelo, MS with his wife, Deidre, and his daughters, Kathryn and Haley.