Church Boy Love: Book 3: Gold Dust

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

CHAPTER 1: The Reunion

CHAPTER 2: Homeless

CHAPTER 3: Missing Person

CHAPTER 4: The Snitch

CHAPTER 5: The Interview

CHAPTER 6: Gold Dust

CHAPTER 7: What the What!

CHAPTER 8: The Last Supper!

CHAPTER 9: A New Beginning

CHAPTER 10: Eight Years Later

CHAPTER 11: Déjà Vu

CHAPTER 12: The Proposal

CHAPTER 13: Know Your History

CHAPTER 14: The History of Jewelry

CHAPTER 15: The Unthinkable!

CHAPTER 16: The Eye of the Storm

CHAPTER 17: The Tragic End

About the Author

Church Boy Love

Book 3: Gold Dust

Adrian D. Nelson

Copyright © 2024 Adrian D. Nelson

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2024

ISBN 979-8-89427-325-9 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89427-326-6 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

In loving memory of my brother, Gary Robert Nelson

CHAPTER 1

The Reunion

So here are the jaw-dropping memories of my being a church boy, which I was mostly not, back in the eighties when I was a teenager, because based on my toxic journey growing up, the devil singled me out for a life of torment. But just as with Job in the Bible, when I was down and out for the count, God stepped in and said, Enough!

Have you ever been in that chapter of your life where you do your best to do right, stay out of trouble, and just simply try to live a good life, yet no matter how hard you persevere, over and over, everything goes wrong? My life was like growing up and enduring a constant hurricane now. I endured, but not without consequences.

What should have been a routine day for me was nothing but, as I had the shock of my life.

Hello, Street, a familiar voice said as I answered the knock at the door.

I had goose bumps, as it was Michelle. Yes, Michelle! What the what! She did a poor job of holding back her tears as we held trembling hands. Her father walked away a bit so we could have a moment to speak.

My God. Michelle! I said.

I couldn't hold back my tears out of elation at seeing her. There was a moment of silence as we just gazed at each other. She tried to raise herself from the wheelchair to hug me but couldn't. I knelt, and we exchanged a long, tearful hug and kiss.

I missed you, she said.

I missed you more, I said. I thought I would never see you again, I replied. How are you? I asked since she was in a wheelchair and couldn't stand.

She cried before she finally spoke.

Doctors say it's spinal injuries, so I have several months of therapy remaining before I will be able to stand and eventually walk again. God is good. They can't explain my ongoing, miraculous recovery during surgeries, as they all said most people who sustained my type of spinal injury are stuck in a wheelchair for life. I heard about Assad.

Sad silence.

Jeez. It's so good to see you, Street. There wasn't a day that you didn't cross my mind, she said as we hugged again.

May his soul rest in peace. There wasn't a day that you didn't cross mine either, I sighed. But so much has changed, babe. So much has happened since the night of that accident that I don't even know where to start in telling you.

I know. You probably have quite a story to tell. But as for me, I was bedridden for months in a hospital, fighting and praying to be back on my feet again.

Silence as we just stared at each other's teary eyes. But she had a look that made me hold my breath.

I return to the US to commence stage 3 therapy next week, she explained. Only God knows how long that will take, she sighed. Street, I just came back to pack my stuff, get some other business taken care of, and see you for one last time.

What the what!

What do you mean…one last time? I asked.

She cried some more.

I'm migrating to the US, Street. Dad said all my paperwork came through. He has already booked my return flight. I leave on Thursday. I will visit from time to time, but it's best for me based on my condition plus my calling as a missionary. I have become lost in transition, in a positive way. But I will visit. You will see me again.

I was in shock. I looked at her father, who was standing some distance away so we could talk alone. He was beside himself and just gave me a nod to confirm what I just heard.

There was a moment of sad silence, until it was interrupted by Green Hair.

Street, I have to go, Papi. Don't want to miss my flight, she said as she exited my room, hauling her Pullman behind her.

But then she stopped dead in her tracks.

Wait! What the! What is this? Who are you? she asked Michelle, confused, as she saw us holding hands.

I'm Michelle, his girlfriend, Michelle simply replied.

This didn't go down well with Green Hair. She just stood there in shock, trying to process everything in seconds.

His girlfriend? Street! What is this? Who is this bitch? Is she the Michelle you have been telling me about? Green Hair asked. She was getting worked up and angrily dropped her Pullman. I am his girlfriend!

I was lost for words for a few seconds. Have you ever been in that moment when you are caught between two lovers cussing and screaming at each other, which leaves you feeling like a fool?

Sigh

Calm down, babe. This is Michelle, I finally spoke.

Wait. Did you just call her babe? Michelle snapped, also confused. Street, who is this?

I'm his woman! Green Hair snapped, not giving me a chance to answer. He oído hablar de ti, pero ahora él es mi hombre así que piérdete!

She had taught me some Spanish, so I knew a little about what she was saying.

And then lo and behold, as much as I tried to calm them both, they continued their back-and-forth screaming and arguing. Michelle's frustrated dad finally intervened, which also caused Officer Sawyers, after hearing the commotion, to come out and intervene to calm the situation, as Green Hair continued to curse in Spanish.

Michelle wept as her dad consoled her and slowly pulled the wheelchair from the front porch to the driveway.

Street, what is this? What's going on? he asked out of confusion.

I just gave him a confused, sad look. He looked at the still fuming Green Hair and connected the dots that she was my new girlfriend.

You told me you would wait for me always. So who are all these women you invited to your house while I was in the hospital in a coma, waiting to revive and come be with you again? Michelle cried.

Green Hair cursed something in Spanish, and she and Michelle got into a shouting bout again, which her dad and the detective finally squashed.

Let's go! Michelle's dad finally said out of frustration and disappointment at our reunion as he gave me a dissatisfied, unforgettable stare. Stay away from my daughter! he warned as he wheeled her to his pickup parked by the gate.

He helped her in. Put the wheelchair in the back and hopped in. I felt terrible, as she was crying uncontrollably as her dad got in and hugged her to console her. He gave me one last look as I stood midway the driveway. He then buckled in, and they drove off.

Michelle. Wait. Michelle! I shouted to halt them.

That was the last time I ever saw or heard from Michelle again. Yes, just like that. Wow.

Green Hair was still fuming and cursing in Spanish at me. She grabbed her Pullman, gave me a slap in the face, and stormed off down the driveway, still cursing in Spanish as she angrily walked to her car. She was crying uncontrollably as I briskly followed behind her.

Please. Stop. I can explain, I begged. Please! Let's talk. Please. Babe!

No luck. She tossed her Pullman in the back seat, hopped in, slammed the door, started the engine, put her windows up, locked her doors, gave me one last look, and then sped off.

I just stood there in shock as she took a left and was out of sight. I didn't know how long I stood at the side of the street, gazing into nowhere, as my mind was overheating, trying to process what on earth just happened in the last sixty seconds.

That was the last time I also ever saw or heard from Green Hair. Just like that. Wow.

Sigh

I simply thought that I would never see Michelle again, so I moved on. Then she turned up out of the blue. And now this.

What did I do wrong? What the hell just happened? I kept on asking myself in my mind.

Silence.

So I clearly just witnessed that you have some issues going on with your love life. I have been down this road before, and I don't want to relive it, Street. No cursing and screaming and slap in the face from me. Fix your life, son, Officer Sawyers said with a heavy exhale as she slowly walked down the driveway and met up with me. I can't believe what I just saw, and I don't want to be a part of it. I don't do drama anymore, and your life is consumed with drama, it seems. Fix it. Find yourself.

She hugged me and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

I just got the call a few minutes ago. I'm being promoted. I'm being transferred to Ocho Rios, so I guess this is goodbye, she said with a sad smile. Fix your life, Street. You have the potential. Very smart kid. Make me proud so that I will never be assigned to be on the hunt for you again.

We exchanged a soft kiss, and she left.

Yep, just like that, I was standing alone, still trying to process what the heck just happened and why one minute I had three ladies at my house, and all should have been well with cordial introductions. Yet within minutes, they had all left, cussing and screaming or simply disappointed with me.

What did I do wrong? I kept asking myself.

I slowly headed back to the front porch, sat down for a bit, still processing everything, and then went to take a long shower and just stood there, processing everything again as the water sprayed down on me. I felt lost. I prayed for forgiveness for any hurt I caused and for any wrong that I had done. I had a lot of decisions to make, tough ones. I was officially walking alone…again.

I decided to become celibate for now, as I had no happy ending with past relationships. I hurt too. I tried to remain positive, but then the worst thing happened that changed my life forever.

CHAPTER 2

Homeless

Days passed. I was consumed by numerous moments of reflection. My life was good but kept switching to the right track. I tried to figure life out. My prayers went unanswered. Have you ever begged God in a prayer for something, but it goes unanswered?

Sigh

Jesus went on a little farther and bowed with his face to the ground, praying, ‘My Father! If it is possible, let this cup of suffering be taken away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine' (Matthew 26:29).

Jesus knew he was about to be crucified. It was like a prisoner on death row knowing that his day had come to die. Wow.

God ignored Jesus's prayer for a reason. Jesus was a sacrificial lamb to give us choices in our journey in life and faith for eternal life in heaven. But it begs the question, how would you handle it if you knew the exact year, day, and time, even how, that you were going to pass away? How would you prepare for that last day when it finally comes?

Just as man is appointed to die once, and after that to face judgment. So also, Christ was offered once to bear the sins of many; and He will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who eagerly await Him. (Hebrews 9:27–28)

I accepted my fate and trusted in God by simply constantly praying, Thy will be done for my life, Lord. Order my steps. Keep me on your leash. I constantly reminded myself that God said, Your ways are not my ways.

I started going back to church. I sat either in the back bench or alone in the quiet on the staircase just outside the hallway, where I could still hear everything as the church service went on. Sometimes, I just wanted to be at church, but I didn't want to see anyone or talk to anyone. I just wanted to recharge my faith.

Have you ever been there when you just wanted to be alone and take a time-out for a moment of reflection, meditation, planning, and prayer?

I was home alone when G and Sis turned up.

Hey, bro. What's up with that face? he said as I was in the sofa, having a smoke and beer and listening to some breakdance music.

Just in chill mode, bro, I said as I rose, and we hugged, and Sis and I exchanged a hug and a smooch.

I noticed the look on his face also as he was reading letters from the mail he just picked up and was going through. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence based on his facial expression.

G, what's going on? I know that look, I said.

No response as he read a couple of letters again, frustrated.

G! Talk to me, I said.

He let out a heavy exhale and went to get a beer, had a heavy gulp, and then sat down beside me. Sis gave us our space as she sat in the other sofa. He passed me a couple of letters for review, then finally spoke.

So there's good news and bad news. Which do you wanna hear first?

Silence.

What's going on? The good news, I said.

There was more uncomfortable silence until he spoke again.

Okay. So although mom said she both filed for us on the same day and everything was processed and confirmed for us to migrate to the US, look, he said as he handed me a letter. I am approved to migrate. I leave in a couple weeks. Mom already booked the ticket to go stay with some uncle of ours and start my new life in America, he continued sadly. I checked over and over, but I see nothing for you.

I was confused and silent as I hugged him, as it was always our dream to migrate to the USA.

Maybe mine will come tomorrow or by the weekend, I said and smiled in hope. So what's the bad news? I asked, trying to change the subject and the emotional atmosphere.

There was more uncomfortable silence. He then sifted through and showed me another letter. I read it.

Yes, G sighed heavily. The owner gave mom the option to buy this house, which we have lived in forever, but she declined, he said. So we have a month's notice to pack and move out, or we will be evicted.

What the what! Have you ever been evicted from the place you've called home for years? I was at a loss for words.

I know this is a shocker, bro, but we will help you find a place to rent, even a single room, and share everything, or just crash with a friend until you find a job and be Mr. Independent, G said as he gave me a tight hug.

Sis joined us, and we all hugged.

I will help you find somewhere, Sis said.

Mom has arranged to have whoever come and move everything out and do whatever with all this, G said, scanning the room and all the furniture and other stuff. Start packing what you dare not part with, G continued. I didn't see this day coming, bro. But I will get a job immediately to help you with your finances.

They both just gave me an empathic stare. My life as I knew it was about to change forever. It did.

The Sleepover

Long story short, weeks passed, and G finally migrated to New York, USA. So did Sis to Connecticut. I had no source of income, so I was homeless. But I had some saved-up cash, so I ventured out to rent accommodation from anywhere. It was easier said than done, though, because although I could afford to with breakdance winning earnings, with background checks from landlords and all and as a teenager, I never got approved. So I reached out to my friend on The Main. He didn't hesitate to have me dwell with him.

As crazy as it sounds, I erected and opted to sleep in my tent in the backyard of his house by choice to give them their space and privacy. He and I argued many times about my decision, as he insisted that I take the sofa in his living room. I politely refused. Yes, I showered, ate, hung out, and all in his house. But come bedtime, I would go to my tent. So yes, I slept in my tent for many weeks in a friend's backyard because I had nowhere to call home, as all my applications for somewhere to rent kept on being rejected, and so did my job applications. I fell in despair.

But during the looming hurricane season, with daily rainstorms, he insisted that I sleep indoors. I finally agreed once when my tent got flooded. But I slept on the floor in the living room, in my sleeping bag, as his daughter, with whom I played a lot with, preferred to sleep in the couch most nights.

Have you ever slept on the floor at someone's home or even in your car or the woods, a park bench, or wherever because you were homeless? Back in those days, I had no knowledge of any such thing as a homeless shelter.

Sigh

More weeks passed. And don't be disappointed with me for saying this, but I quit college for a year and could have resumed a year later, but I didn't. Yes, I became a college dropout to find myself and stand alone, as there was no more mom, G, Sis, or Street Boys. I walked alone and needed an income to survive.

Have you ever had that feeling where with all your family members, friends, and all, you felt alone and walked alone because you received help from no one?

My Last Hike Ever

So even though I was loved and welcomed, sometimes, I could sense that I was like the elephant in the room at my friend's place, so I wanted to give them a break from constantly having me in their space and decided to go on a long Easter weekend hike. There was an old saying: Never wear out your welcome.

Have you ever felt like, with their subtle attitude and actions, your guests are saying, The excitement of having you over was great. Now can you just leave?

There was no word from G, Sis, or mom, obviously, in several weeks, as they had no way to contact me or even know my whereabouts. I chatted with some hiking buddies I ran into at the corner deli one evening about planning a trip.

Okay, fine, Cinchona! one of my buddies said.

The next day, we planned our destination. About twelve of them met up with me on The Main for smokes and drinks. I didn't fill them in on my situation, as in life, there were some things that were too embarrassing that you shouldn't fill anyone in on.

One of my friends assumed being the group leader and eventually told us the plan. Out of respect, I will not mention his name, and you will understand why later.

The Blue Mountain Peak has always been our favorite destination for Easter hikes, Street. And yeah, yeah, yeah, you keep telling everyone about your ghost story experience with that ghost bitch always sitting on the rock.

He laughed, as he choked on the long puff he took from his cigarette.

It's not a ghost story, I snapped, itching to get angry at him for mocking me.

Hey, hey! Chill, he said knowing I was about to snap to another level. It has always been an urban legend, yet you claim you saw her face-to-face, and not just once but twice! The legend says that everyone who has seen her has become a missing person, so what is this? You are not a missing person, Street! You're right here! he said as he gripped my shoulder to calm me. You're not missing, bro.

I had no comment, as it was true what he said. I couldn't explain any further.

Silence

Okay, okay, okay. So that so-called rock that you told everyone you saw her sitting on? Guess what? A few weeks ago, on our trip to the Blue Mountains, I was the tour guide for the group. Everyone got scared when they hit the Trail of Death, because a lot of them heard about your story and believed you. So you know what I did?

He laughed as he took a chug from his beer and a long puff from his cigarette.

We took a long break. It was daylight. I took my sledgehammer out, which I deliberately brought to end this nonsense because I don't believe in ghosts. Street, I hammered that rock you claim she sat on until it crumbled. Where is she going to sit now? Urban legend over!

He chuckled. I gave him a look of shock, as the urban legend also said her restless soul would always find a new location to haunt hikers.

Why did you do that? I asked, uncertain of what would happen next.

To put an end once and for all to this stupid urban legend. Listen, we go to Cinchona for the weekend, and we'll do what we do best: have a great time, he replied. No more stupid ghost stories, okay?

The conversation eventually changed as we spent a long, chill time together. We finalized our trip. It was, as he said, for us to simply have a great time. But it became our most horrific hiking trip as a group ever.

CHAPTER 3

Missing Person

I remember Fowl and how he became a missing person with an unsolved, ongoing case to find him. I see their faces all the time, advertised on certain grocery items or at convenience stores with their pictures posted everywhere as a missing person. It breaks my heart and leaves me confused. Did they run away forever, or did they meet their brutal fate and would remain missing forever?

Have you ever had anyone in your loving inner circle be listed as a missing person? How did it all end? Happy, sad, or an ongoing cold case? I pray that neither you nor I will ever be listed as such. But my prayers didn't help our team