Come Sunday Morning by Terry E. Hill Page A

menu.
    â€œGood afternoon, Pastor Cleaveland,” he said jovially in a thick Italian accent. “Will you be having your usual or would you like to try something different today?”
    Hezekiah placed his order and the waiter left the table.
    â€œAll right, Phillip,” Hezekiah said. “Who’s trying to screw me over now? Come on, spill it.”
    Phillip drank the last of his red wine.
    â€œIt’s not about who’s screwing you, Hezekiah,” he said. “It’s more about who it is you’re screwing.”
    Hezekiah sat silent. There was a hush at the table when the waiter returned with a basket of steaming bread.
    â€œI’ll have another drink, Luigi,” Phillip said as the waiter walked away.
    â€œI don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hezekiah said.
    â€œCome on, Hezekiah,” Hector said. “You know what this is about. Don’t try to bullshit us. We’ve known each other too long for that. We all get our share of pussy in this town.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “But a man? That’s just sick. This country will never tolerate a faggot as the pastor of one of its largest churches.”
    Hezekiah looked to the source of the information. “Phillip, this is all a lie. It’s Lance Savage at your newspaper. He’s been trying to dig something up on me ever since I broke ground on the new cathedral.”
    â€œYou say it’s a lie,” said Phillip. “But, Lance says he has proof and can back up the entire story. Hezekiah, he’s going to bury you with this one and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
    Hezekiah grew agitated. “What do you mean, nothing? It’s your newspaper, Phillip. Stop the story. Fire him. Transfer him to Idaho. You could get him off my back if you wanted.”
    â€œYou know I don’t have any editorial control, and besides, he’s not the only one at the paper who knows about it. Lance has already briefed the managing editor and I understand he’s just about finished with the final copy.”
    There was a long pause and then Phillip continued. “How’d you let it get this far, Hezekiah? I thought your people were supposed to be out there making sure things like this never leaked out. You’ve dug your own grave this time and I can’t pull you out.”
    â€œYou can do something about it,” Hezekiah said, throwing his napkin on the table. “You just won’t. Your bottom line is selling that paper, and if it’s at my expense, then so be it.”
    â€œHezekiah, wait a minute. That’s not fair,” Jonathon Copperfield interjected. “This isn’t Phillip’s fault. You’ve only got yourself to blame for this one. If you just had to get your cock sucked by a man, you could have gone anywhere in the world. Instead, you chose to do it in your own backyard.” Jonathon stood from the table. “I can’t take this anymore. This is just sick. Sick and stupid. I’m out of here.”
    Jonathon wove through the neighboring tables and disappeared out the door. The remaining men sat in silence for what seemed like hours. Hezekiah, with his right hand over his mouth, stared blankly at the untouched basket of bread. Hector tapped his fingers on the bare wooden table and Phillip gulped down the remains of his second glass of wine.
    The quiet was finally broken. “So what am I going to do?” Hezekiah said with his hand still cupped over his mouth. The torment in his voice was deafening. “If that story runs I’m through. I could kill that bastard….”
    Hector cut him off. “Take it easy, Hezekiah. Look, you haven’t denied it so I assume it’s true.”
    Hezekiah’s silence served as confirmation.
    â€œOh shit. This is crazy,” Hector said. “You throw away your whole ministry for a dick. How could you let this happen? You’re too smart for this,