Mama B: A Time to Speak (7 page)

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Authors: Michelle Stimpson

BOOK: Mama B: A Time to Speak
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“Good Night,” they all said with question marks in their voices.

Soon as Shantay shut the door behind her, Cynthia put her voice real low. “You can’t make people believe.”

Chile, I had to just get up and excuse myself ‘cause I was ‘bout to do like Jesus and turn over some tables, only I didn’t want to scuff up my hardwood floors.

 

 

Chapter 12

 

First thing come to mind was I needed to call Ophelia, but Lord knows she would have come running straight up to my doorstep and bopped Cynthia upside the head with a large-print Bible.

I wanted to call Pastor Phillips, but I didn’t want to worry him about this matter just yet. He got bigger problems, with Geneva and all.

Only One I should have rightfully called on, anyway, was the Lord. He got a dog in this fight.

While the ladies carried on, taking turns in the restroom trying on their Body Enchantment suits, I slipped off into my bedroom and rocked in my rocking chair. Closed my eyes and talked to the Lord.

Hoped Nikki could help them if they had any questions because, at the moment, I couldn’t trust my mouth.

Lord, You and I both know this ain’t right.

I was trying to get calmed down, but the more I thought about it, I knew I had to say something because we wasn’t about to have no more surprise-pyramid-parties up in my house.

 I didn’t have high blood pressure but I sure felt my heart beatin’ fast in my chest right then.

Figured I’d wait until we was down to the last few—hopefully just Cynthia and Karen—before I said something. Had to do it decent and in order, with as much love as I could scrape up. Maybe they didn’t know any better. Maybe this just the way they do things at their church, nobody ever told them this whole set-up was a little off. Or a
lot
off.

Since I settled my mind with the thought that Cynthia and Karen wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, just needed to be taught, I could stomach the whole thing a little better. Made my way back to the kitchen, looked in on the young ladies every once in a while so I wouldn’t seem rude.

My tongue had all kind of bite-marks in it by the end of all these women squeezin’ into those glorified girdles. That’s all it was, really—except it cost almost two hundred dollars! Goodness, they could have had six months worth of group meetings at First Baptist, lost fifty pounds,
and
bought a new girdle for less than two hundred dollars!

Good thing Nikki didn’t have much money left, ‘cause I know she would have bought one. She starin’ at Cynthia the whole night like that woman set the moon and the stars herself. Hard to blame Nikki, though. Cynthia was nice-lookin’, well put together. All her verbs and words proper. She the kind of woman we had in mind for our daughters to be when we was marchin’ for freedom and equality.

About eight o’clock, Karen started taking orders and signing people up for the pyramid. She was taking cash, swiping credit cards with a fancy doo-dad on her cell phone. Some of the ladies said they didn’t have enough money—had to wait until the first of the month. Cynthia said she would take a post-dated check from a woman of God.

Most of them had cleared out by a quarter after. About that time, Nikki said she had to go get Cameron.

Good thing, too. I didn’t want her to hear what I had to say to Cynthia and Karen. God always work stuff out so things don’t have to be ugly.

The last woman, somebody named Alexis from their church, was the only one left to finish up her paperwork. From the way they talked, Cynthia must have been the highest on the pyramid. Then Karen, then Alexis. And under Alexis, people from Mt. Zion now.

They didn’t have no closing prayer, not even ask the Lord to help them drive home safely. Nothing. Could have been a parent-teacher meeting, the way they ended.

I finished throwing all the napkins and empty cups away for the ones who forgot their manners. Probably got so caught up in looking like they lost weight, they didn’t know how to act.

Karen and Cynthia were down on their knees, zipping up the suitcase, talking amongst themselves. I wasn’t trying to overhear them, but I guess they was so busy they didn’t realize I was in earshot.

“Ooh, girl,” Cynthia drawled, “we must remember to bring air freshener next time.”

Karen laughed a bit.

Cynthia edged it on, “Somebody forgot their deodorant. And, for real, I didn’t think we would have one
big
enough for that sister in blue. She was huge! Almost broke my nails trying to stuff all that gut in!”

How you take folks money one minute and talk about ‘em like dogs the next?

 “Sister Cynthia, you know you need to stop talking about people like that,” Karen said with a chuckle in her tone.

At least one of them had a little bit of sense.

Cynthia added, “It’s the truth.”

I know folks call that ‘keepin’ it real’ nowadays. But it my day, we called it back-bitin’. I stepped into the den and spoke up before they could say anything else. “Y’all about packed up?”

 “Praise the Lord, yes. And thank you again, Mama B, for letting us have the meeting here. It was such a great success. God’s got a special blessing for you, woman of God.” Cynthia said in a real strong tone; sound like she was up on her own pulpit.

“Well, Cynthia, I don’t mind helping people. But, I need to talk to you about something. Sit down here a minute. You and Karen.” I patted the cushion next to me on the love seat.

“Yes, ma’am,” Karen obliged and sat beside me. Cynthia took the chair across from us.

“Now, I know you all have a business to run with this Body Enchantment. If this is what God has called you to do, I know He will put His hand on it and open all the doors you need to be successful. But you invited these people here on the premise of a Bible study meeting, and it wasn’t.”

Karen’s eyes got real big. She looked to her leader for an answer.

“I fully comprehend what you’re saying. But sometimes, we have to do what we have to do to reach the people of God and give them the knowledge they need. Particularly the people from the African-American community.” Then Cynthia licked her lips, like she tryin’ real hard to think of how she can explain herself in a way where I can understand her. “Maybe you’ve never heard this, but the Bible says God’s people perish for the lack of knowledge in Hosea three and six.”

No she didn’t try to pull out the word on me!
“And in the very next verse of Hosea, it says the people
rejected
knowledge, which is exactly what I’m trying to give you.” I had done held it in long enough.

Her neck rolled back a little.

Didn’t phase me none. “Now, I got no problem with the people of God having businesses and prosperin’. My husband and I were blessed beyond what most folks—black or white—in our time experienced. And I done hosted plenty Mary Kay and Amway and Tupperware parties here, trying to help people make money. Difference is, we
called
it what it was. And we sure didn’t slap the Lord’s name on it like some kind of endorsement, make people feel unholy if they didn’t want to participate.”

Karen still hadn’t said a mumbling word. Sat there with her fingers laced across her belly.

Cynthia huffed a little bit. “We’re only trying to enlighten and encourage the people of God. When the people make more money, the church makes more money to turn around and help others. That’s what my husband and I are all about—empowering people. All I can do is apologize if you were offended by what we did.”

I shook my head. “It’s not me being offended I’m worried about. It’s the Lord. Listen, if you want to have another Body Enchantment party here, you are more than welcome. But we ‘gon call it a Body Enchantment party. And if you want to have a Bible study here, we can have that, too. But let’s not mix up Body Enchantment with the word of God. That’s all I’m saying.

Almost could see smoke comin’ out of Cynthia’s ears.

 I couldn’t worry about her being mad. We needed to get to an understanding. “Now is this book club meetin’ y’all planning actually a book club meetin’ or is it another recruitin’ event?”

 Karen ran intervention. “If you want us focus on the book, we can.”

“That would be best.”

I stood up so they could get the message this conversation was over. I had done heard them out, they had done heard me out, it was up to the Holy Spirit in both of us to show us the rest.

Plus it was going on nine o’clock and I don’t entertain folks that late.

 

 

Chapter 13

 

For our second Sunday at First Baptist, Rev. Jamaal preached another one of his get-rich-quick sermons. This time, he didn’t even bother to try and have a scripture to back it up. He put his hand on his chest and said, “This Sunday, I want to preach from my heart. Is that alright with y’all?”

Couldn’t nobody beat Henrietta hollerin’, “Go ‘head, preacher!”

He continued, “I want to talk to you about what the Lord did for me and my wife. Give you some
real life
experience. Is that alright?”

Henrietta tilted her head toward me. “That’s the best kind of preachin, you ask me.”

“Not to me,” I whispered back. “I need the word of God.”

“Sometimes you need
more
than the word,” she said. She pooched out her lips and turned her head back to the pulpit.

Far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing more important than the love of God all wrapped up in His word and His Son. I couldn’t take no more. For the first time in thirty-seven years, I tipped out of Sunday morning service early. Left Nikki and Cameron at church. Left my third Sunday homeless offering with Ophelia. Got in my car and drove the three miles from First Baptist back to my house. Slammed the door when I walked inside.

Lord, I’m sorry I left the church today.

First thing I did when I got home was get back in my prayer closet and ask the Lord to show me myself. I mean, got to be something wrong with me to get up and leave church early. And it can’t be right for me to get so mad in my own Father’s house.

I just love the Lord. And I can’t stand to see nobody use Him for their own purposes. He’s too good for folk to treat Him like He some kind of genie in a bottle, they just got to figure out how to rub Him the right way to get what they want.

But I can’t be runnin’ out the church every time something don’t go my way, neither. If it wasn’t Jamaal and Cynthia, the next pastor would probably do some things I didn’t like, if Pastor Phillips didn’t come back. Come to think of it, Pastor Phillips had did stuff I wasn’t too keen on. I never walked out on his sermon, though.

Right or wrong, I couldn’t deny the fact that people listened to Rev. Dukes. He had a gift for leadership. Only his second time preaching, and he got a few of Mt. Zion’s deacons to stand on their feet, moanin’ and leadin’ him on—“Yes, sir!” “You tellin’ the truth!”

I recognize anointing when I see it. Kinda reminded me of David, when he refused to kill Saul ‘cause he knew Saul was chosen by God. Even though Saul wasn’t actin’ right.

Lord, I repent for being disrespectful to the preacher.

Since Rev. Dukes wasn’t too interested in the word, I decided to turn on the television and catch one of my favorite ministers while my ground chicken burgers browned on the George Foreman grill.

Wouldn’t you know, the Lord led me smack to a message about not arguing with people! Whoo, that’s just like Him to teach me something even in my disobedience. Preacher had us in 2 Timothy, talking about a workman approved by God.

At first, I read it thinking about Rev. Jamaal and Cynthia and all their foolishness. But then I got down to verses twenty-three to twenty-five, where it talk about people getting into arguments with other folk.

I think that part was for me. Well, I know it was. Figured I probably shouldn’t do ugly things like walk out of church right in the middle of the preacher’s message. Made me look childish to the very people I called myself trying to help.

Nikki and Cameron got to be wonderin’ why I made them go to church, then walked myself right out.

Well, wasn’t nothing I could do about it by that point. I had done come out my shoes, and stockings and changed into my soft bra already. Too late to turn back now.

 

 

Cameron wasn’t too crazy about salads, but he would eat a little lettuce and tomato if I put it on a burger with cheese. I knew he wouldn’t be able to tell one way or another that he was eating chicken, not beef. Even Nikki ate just about anything I put in front of her so long as it didn’t look overly healthy.

They both come through the door about an hour later than me. Service must have went long.

“Mama B, we home!” Nikki called out.

“I’m in the kitchen. Y’all get out of your Sunday clothes and come on in here and eat. Got burgers and baked beans.”

Cameron rushed right in to see me instead. “Mama B, you alright?” He wrapped his arms around my waist, held on for dear life.

“Yes, I’m fine. Why you ask?”

“’Cause I saw you when you walked out the church. You looked like you were sick or something.”

Out of the mouth of babes.
I pushed him back, bent down to his eye level. “No, Cameron, Mama B wasn’t sick. But I thank you for thinking ‘bout me.

“Then why did you leave?”

“That’s a good question, Cameron. It’s not right to walk out of church—especially when the word of God is going forth.”

Not that there
was
any word. Still. “I just had a bad thing going on, but I’m alright now. God met me here when I got home.”

His mouth dropped open. “God was here?”

“Yes, Cameron, God is everywhere.”

“Oh. That’s good ‘cause there’s a lot of broke people who need God to come to their house and give them some money.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes ma’am. Pastor Drake said everybody in the church is going to be a millionaire. Then all the people start shoutin’, like this.”

He jumped up out of his chair, threw his hands up in the air, and started dancing a holy dance before I had a chance to stop him. “Haba-laba-laba! Shamazzakamala! Thank you, Jesus!”

I slapped my stirring spoon against the pot. “Cameron, stop that!”

He froze. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Go put on your play clothes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Help me, Lord.

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