The Retreat by Dijorn Moss Page B

revelation caused a disconnect with Jamal.
    The news had brought a change. Jamal now had the freedom to leave Chantel and Jamir, and put the past behind him. Maybe this was God trying to signal to him that it was time to move on, and that maybe there was something better in store for him. Jamal never realized how strong a family tie was when the same blood flows through two people’s veins, as opposed to just an emotional and psychological connection.
    Jamir started not to feel like Jamal’s own. He cringed at the thought that his separation was starting so soon. Jamal really needed answers. He did not know if he would get them during the Men’s Retreat. God needed to intervene.
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    They arrived just after three in the morning. While Chauncey was exhausted, fear had made an impact on his sleep. Since Chauncey served on the Men’s Retreat committee, he’d received his cabin key early, so he and Will were able to go straight to the room. But for most of the journey and since their arrival, Will had not said much. Even now, he just sat in the chair in the room, staring off into space, not even talking.
    â€œYou’re not tired?” Chauncey asked Will.
    â€œI don’t sleep much. I’m always on the grind, and in my neighborhood, you go to sleep hearing sirens and helicopters. It’s too quiet here. It makes me a little nervous.”
    â€œTrust in Jesus, He’ll give you rest.”
    â€œJesus never lived in the hood, so I doubt that!”
    Maybe it had been a mistake for Chauncey to bring Will. He seemed to be diametrically opposed to the things of God. One could only hope that tomorrow the Retreat would start to work on his heart.
    â€œYou have to get at least eight hours of sleep. Your heart is working overtime. You could have a heart attack by the time you’re thirty,” Chauncey said.
    â€œI might not even be around when I’m thirty. There’s a lot more stuff for me to worry about than a heart attack.”
    â€œI’m going to pray for you. I’m going to bind that spirit in the name of Jesus!”
    Will took out his gun and placed it in his lap. He gave Chauncey a smirk. “Just make sure you keep it down. Just because I don’t sleep doesn’t mean that I want to hear all of that praying stuff.”
    Chauncey figured he would exercise wisdom and pray silently. He’d never felt fear like he had felt today. God must have had something greater for him. That’s why the devil was attacking him so hard. If this young man was an example, well, Chauncey refused to live in fear. Chauncey believed that he could save Will’s life, and Chauncey needed to trust God in spite of his doubts.
    â€œWhy did you decide to come if you didn’t want to have anything to do with Jesus?” Chauncey asked.
    Chauncey’s question caused Will to put his head down, like his only solace came from the floor. Finally, Chauncey may have said something that resonated with Will’s conscience.
    â€œIt’s like every day I get in a corner and I start swinging. But I learned a long time ago that I’m not fighting to get out; I’m just trying to keep the walls from closing in. You gave me a chance to get out, and maybe for once in my life it won’t feel like a dogfight.”
    And like a gunslinger from a Western, Will stood up with his gun and walked over to his nightstand. Only he was not about to discharge his weapon, but laid it down on the shelf. Even Chauncey had to marvel at the display of a warrior surrendering his weapon, even if it was only for a weekend.

Chapter Eleven
    A beautiful metallic ’67 Chevy sat in a frail garage with the paint chipping away and the door off of its hinges. With the hood up, the car stood not in flawless shape, but anyone with a speck of knowledge about car history would know that this car was a classic. It took the smell of hazelnut to remind Jamal that his purpose was to drop off breakfast