Mama B: A Time to Speak (13 page)

Chapter 25

Queesha, one of Henrietta’s grandbabies, met me at the door. Guess she was supposed to be some kind of usher. She always been a sweet girl, though. Met me with a smile. “Mama B, I heard you weren’t coming.”

I clasped her hands into mine. “Well, I’m here, sweetie.”

She bit her lower lip twice. “I’m sorry, but all the seats on the front rows are taken.”

“Don’t mind me, Queesha. I’ll just take a seat near the back.”

Queesha’s eyes apologized again. “You sure?”

“Yes. I don’t know how long I’m gon’ be here.” Soon as the Lord give the word, I was gettin’ out of there, you hear?

She pushed open the swinging doors to the sanctuary, and I had a flashback to the time when the church was overflowing with people – back before Peasner started growing and they paved the roads back into Dallas. Shoulders touching in the pews, choir standin’ full, extra chairs set up down the middle row. If nothing else, the Dukes’ knew how to fill a sanctuary with people.

They was all singing a congregational hymn, getting things started. But as I scooted onto the last row, my stomach started bubbling. I hadn’t ate nothing but tea and soup for the past two days. Wasn’t sure if it was my body or my Spirit trying to tell me something this time. And with all the different personalities flowing through the building, I couldn’t be sure.

When I sat down good, here come the first act. I couldn’t remember their names. Everybody just called them “the twins.” Two teenage girls from Geneva side of the family. They got up singing somethin’ with a church melody, ‘cept the words didn’t have nothin’ to do with the Lord. Sound like two people ending a love relationship. Said, “Come to the end of the road” and “it’s unnatural for me to be without you”—something like that. I couldn’t hardly tell.

All the young folk got up, started swaying side to side, singing “Oooh!” when they got to the chorus part.

Didn’t surprise me none. If Rev. Dukes don’t preach the word, he sure don’t mind folks not singin’ ‘bout the word.

Whole thing made me uncomfortable. But it was more than just them girls and all the people. And I wasn’t sick.

By the second act, I put my finger on it: I was nervous. Something was off. Wrong. Not like theological wrong. Wrong in the spirit realm.

Brandon took the microphone again. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to bring out seven young men who are about to step for us tonight, and they are on fire!”

I thanked God Cameron was up next. Soon as he finished, I was out.

Brandon continued, “They call themselves the Lucky Seven Strikes. And they are—”

While he was talking, Cynthia come up and shoved him aside. “Excuse me, Brandon, I just want to say something before you bring out the next group of performers.”

“No problem.” He stepped aside.

Cynthia stood herself in front of the podium. She fanned over the entire congregation with her eyes. Then she stopped on me for a second. Give me a smug grin for a second. “I am so glad to see
everyone
here tonight. The
enemy
tried to keep this event from happening.”

“Yeah!” the people said.

“Tried to stop the work of God from going forth!”

Folks stood up. “Yeah!”

“But I am here to tell you tonight, the work of God
will
go forth! No one can stop progress! You betta get with it or you
will
be left behind!”

My eyes stung. I knew good and well Cynthia had said all that on account of me. Why she couldn’t just come up and talk to me one-on-one, I don’t know. But it sure hurt my feelings something awful, I tell ya, for her to blast me out like that in front of the whole church. Left up to me, I would have been gone that very second.

She shoved the microphone back into Brandon’s hand.

I shifted in my seat, pulled my purse in to my chest. Didn’t have long to wallow in my own self-pity, though. The music for Cameron’s dance come blaring through the sound system. And before they could even get started good, most the audience on their feet wavin’ they hands, hollerin’, “Pull out the forty-two! Pull out the forty-two! Pull out the forty-two!” Evidently, this one of they favorite songs.

For all the pride-swallowin’ and lambastin’ I endured, I couldn’t even see my great-grandson perform. Too far in the back. And the folks on the rows in front of me had the nerve to stand up on the pews!

Wasn’t no use in me standing up no more, so I sat back down. And soon as I did, somebody—a tall man with long nappy strings—come walkin’ through the door. That nervous feeling went away. Now, anger. Like I just done seen my worst enemy walk through the door.

I followed the young man with my eyes as he made his way down the main aisle toward where Cameron and them was performin’. He got ‘bout halfway up the way and I saw him reach into his pocket and take somethin’ dark out.

Next thing I knew, everybody started hollerin’ even louder, like they just saw something spectacular added to the show. “Pull out the forty-two! Pull out the forty-two! Pull out the forty-two!” they chanted.

And that’s exactly what the man did. Wasn’t until they heard the shot and saw the plaster fall from the ceiling they all realized his gun wasn’t fake, and this wasn’t part of the show.

Chapter 26

      Everybody ducked down, started screaming. Folk on the back rows with me tried to crawl out the door.

Some of ‘em got out before the gunman give an order into the microphone. “Nobody move! I didn’t come here to hurt anybody.”

Girl across the aisle from me sliding her thumb across her cell phone screen. Wouldn’t be long before help got there, ‘cause these kids can text faster than they talk.

“Nikki! Where you at?” the man yelled.

Nikki! Oh my God, help us. This got to be J.T.

Somebody crying.

“I know you in here!” J.T. shouted. “And you
betta
have my money.”

Another shot. The sound of glass breaking. Light bulbs in a ceiling fan must have taken that bullet.

Somebody in the pews yelled out, “Man, we got about five Nikkis up in here.”

J.T.’s angry voice boomed, “You want to be funny? Who said that?”

Close as I was to the ground, I could feel J.T.’s footsteps coming down the aisle. “Alright, you want to hide? Guess I’ll have to shoot everybody in your section!”

That whole side the church squealed.

All of a sudden, I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt exactly why God had me come to the talent show.

Wasn’t my own power, but His brought me up off that floor and onto my feet.
And then I spoke. “Son?”

He spun around to face me. Gun in his right hand. Cordless microphone in his left. Sweatin’ like he done smoked or drank something to get his nerve up for this mayhem.

“J.T., you don’t have to shoot anybody.”

He squinted, shook his head a bit. “Who are you? How you know my name?”

“I’m Nikki’s grandmother.”

“So you the one who’s been hiding the fugitive? Well, you betta tell her to show her face before everyone in here get shot.”

Somebody yelled out, “She in the front. Right side, in a red shirt.”

J.T. looked around, but the view from where we stood didn’t help him none. He couldn’t identify Nikki, Cameron, or anybody else toward the front of the church.

He faced me again.

“I been prayin’ for you, J.T.”

“For what?” For some reason, he was still talkin’ in the microphone.

“For the Lord to speak to your heart.”

“Well, it’s not working.”

“Yes, it is. Prayers of the righteous availeth much.”

Whew! When I said that, seem like something hit him dead in his gut. He must have recognized them words as something maybe his own Grandmomma said when he was a little boy.

“Don’t pray on me no more, old lady.” He was probably trying to sound like somebody he heard on TV, but I caught that little crack in his voice.

‘Bout that time, I felt my Help comin’ on. Closed my eyes, started speaking the word. “We submit ourselves to the Lord. We resist you, Satan, and you must flee.”

Then Psalm 91 come flying out of my heart. “
He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the
 
Lord
, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in Him will I trust.”

Said it just the same as how I memorized it in Sunday school all those years ago. I took a peek with one eye and saw J.T. just standin’ there looking lost. Paralyzed probably a better word.

“Because thou hast made the
 
Lord
, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation; there shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.”

Ophelia stood up. She was on one of the back rows, also.

J.T. flipped around and stared at her.

She started speaking the word, too. “
The
 
Lord
 
is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters.”

Me and her sayin’ it together now. “He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.”

At first, the prayer was just a whisper in the building. Then, heads started popping up. We got louder. Louder. “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.”

We started the twenty-third Psalm over again. More and more people joined in, got up and faced J.T. He standing there frozen by the word.

Chile, the
Spirit of the Lord fell so thick in that building, you could reach out and touch it. My, my, my. Never seen nothin’ like it before.

Red and blue lights flash throughout the sanctuary. Police.

By this time, we shoutin’ the Lord’s prayer at J.T.

“Y’all crazy!” he yelled back, dropped the microphone.

Tell you what, though, he didn’t pull that trigger another time. Boy got so confused, he rushed out the front door and turned himself in to first man in blue he saw. They say he begged them to take him away from the church!

Ooh, Lord, once J.T. ran outside, I nearly collapsed back on the bench. I think we was all in shock for a minute.

The police come in, ask if everybody else is okay. My throat was so dry, I could barely mouth the word, “Yes.”

Folks started scrambling to get out the building. Nikki and Cameron run up to me shaking and crying.

Cameron hugged me. “Mama B, you were so brave. I was afraid J.T. was going to shoot you.”

“You wasn’t the only one.”

“I’m so sorry,” Nikki apologized to me over and over again.

Seemed like all night she kept on telling me how bad she felt she brought J.T. into my life, into the church.

Later than night, I finally sat down on Debra Kay’s old bed and told her it wasn’t all her fault. “J.T. to blame. He made the choices he made. But I got to tell you, we didn’t help none by calling a forty-two into the sanctuary through that song they danced to.”

I motioned toward Cameron, sleeping on the cot. Hmph. People handle trauma in different ways. Guess it must have wiped him out.

Her bottom lip fell. Astonished. “I thought…it was just a song. We didn’t mean it.”

“Devil don’t care if you
mean
it or not. He want you to think it don’t matter what you say, what you hear, what you read, what you watch on TV. He want you to think it’s all fun and games while he programmin’ your mind to all that foolishness, openin’ up the spirit realm to his work.”

I tapped her nose with my index finger. “He smart. A worthy opponent. And sneaky, I tell you. He like a woodrat. Get in your soul-house through any hole he can find. You can’t give him no space – not through your eyes, your ears, your mouth – nothin’.”

She hugged me again. I could still feel her heart beating fast.

“It’s okay, Nikki-Nik. You safe. Always have been.” Rubbed my hand up and down her back. Rocked her a little.

She sniffled. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come to church tonight.”

“Me, either. And I don’t want to know.”

We sat there in silence for another minute. Then she said, “Oh, I forgot to tell you earlier. I got a job offer. Cameron and I should be out of your hair in another week or so.”

“Bless the name of the Lord.” That should have been good news, but a part of me got sad. Almost two months since they showed up on my doorstep. I was gettin’ used to company around the house.

Nikki bolted up, like she suddenly remembered something. “Mama B, did you feel…
it
…in the church tonight?”

“What?”

“
It
. Felt like…electricity or something. When we all started saying the twenty-third Psalm.”

“Honey, that was the power of God.”