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Authors: Pat G'Orge-Walker

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BOOK: No Ordinary Noel
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Chapter 32
I
t wasn't easy separating Bea and Sasha. It took the combined strength of Reverend Tom, Elder Batty Brick, Brother Casanova, and Porky.
The men had just started to discuss holding another meeting for community outreach at the Soul Food Shanty when they overheard the commotion. In an instant, they dashed into Porky's kitchen and found the old hens pecking.
Before the Christian Cavalry and Porky arrived the old women had managed to bust an angel figure holding a ribbon with
JOY TO THE WORLD
written upon it. Not too far from the angel lay two holly wreaths that had been one. Even the silver pinecones bound with a beautiful, deep purple sash looked like wood chips. They'd torn that kitchen asunder.
Sasha panted, completely out of breath. She felt strange, so she put her thumb quickly in her mouth and felt nothing but gums. She had lost her spare false teeth as well as ripped the slit in her skirt up another two or three inches. Of course, she'd forgotten to wear drawers again, too.
Bea suffered as well. The men were shocked to see tiny rows of micro gray hairs, making it look like she had a head full of toasted sesame seeds. Her bright mauve-colored wig lay on top of the toaster that had turned on during their fight. The smell of synthetic hair and Royal Crown hair grease was enough to shut down the place. There was a faint odor of urine or some knock-off brand of Summer's Eve feminine deodorizer.
 
 
Up in his room Sister Betty didn't need to help Trustee Noel to his feet. He hopped up and was on his way out the door before she said another word. The two of them heard the commotion downstairs and that put an end to the trustee's disastrous marriage proposal.
Instead of following him out of the room, she collapsed onto his bed and looked around his tiny room. Nothing at that moment made sense. Her world was as out of order as his room. In all her visions and knee pains, she'd not seen this one coming.
She questioned her feelings. Did she enjoy the quirky man's company?
Yes.
Had she wanted to become more than friends?
Yes
. She'd like that, but not at that moment and especially not at the Soul Food Shanty. She felt as though he'd taken her to a cliff overlooking a beautiful valley, told her to fly with him or to drop like a rock.
And where was the romance? A woman her age, despite years of being single, still wanted romance. At least, she thought she did. Sister Betty rose and went to the small window in the room. She looked out at the moonlight and the stars, and smiled. “Well, Lord,” Sister Betty whispered. “You certainly know how to call the shots.”
Just as she turned away from the window, the door opened slightly. With a big grin on her face, Cheyenne walked in the room.
The two old women embraced and Cheyenne apologized for not returning for the ribbon cutting ceremony. “My old rheumatoid held me prisoner again,” she explained. “I should've known that as soon as I felt the weather had warmed up a bit and I came back to Pelzer, it would get cold again.”
“I know how you feel,” Sister Betty said with a smile. “My knee's been revolting for days.”
“I see Bea and Sasha got the party started again.” Cheyenne shook her head and switched her cane to the other hand. She pointed to the floor and added, “One day those two old birds gonna figure out just how much they really like one another. When they do this is gonna be one boring town.”
Sister Betty didn't agree with Cheyenne's observation. She thought it was absurd. “I've known Bea and Sasha for about as long as I've known you. I've never seen them do anything but bicker, fight, gossip, and gamble.”
“That's right,” Cheyenne said. She eased down onto the trustee's bed and laid her cane to the side. “And who do they fight with?”
“They fight each other.”
“Do you ever see them fight anyone else?”
“Rarely,” Sister Betty replied. “They usually reserve a beat down, as the young folks say, for each other.”
“And do you think anyone else would put up with their nonsense?”
“No, I don't.” Sister Betty suddenly started laughing. It felt good. She'd wanted and needed that laugh. “So, they fight one another because they don't have to worry about the outcome. Come to think of it, I ain't never known either of them to get really hurt or go to a hospital.”
“And they never will. Other folks would've nailed their old butts to the wall a long time ago. That's why they always end up at the same place, the same time, and pretend they didn't want to.”
Dispensing with thoughts of Bea and Sasha, Sister Betty took a moment and recounted the ribbon cutting ceremony. “Oh, I just thank the Lord.” She became excited when she told Cheyenne who'd attended.
“Oh, and I thank the Lord,” she repeated after she gave an account on how the reverend made his confession before the congregation. “He didn't hold back. The reverend admitted how he'd distanced himself from the members and thought he was so much better.”
Cheyenne interrupted with a question. She hadn't become as excited as Sister Betty appeared to be. “Did he tell them that his grandmother was a whore?”
“Yes, he did. He not only talked about how her money had blessed him and the church, then he accepted how others' monies had done the same.”
“Good for him,” Cheyenne said and winked. “There's hope there after all.”
Once that conversation was exhausted, Cheyenne began to laugh and look about the room.
“What's so funny?” Sister Betty looked around the room, too.
“Just wondering when you are going to give Trustee Noel his answer and take him out of this dump. He doesn't seem to want to leave on his own, even though he can buy the whole block.”
“What are you talking about?” Sister Betty hadn't mentioned one word about what had happened earlier. She was certain Cheyenne hadn't time to talk to the trustee. Why would she?
“Honey, I helped him pick out the ring when he took me out to lunch the other day.” Cheyenne squirmed on the bed to get comfortable.
“The other day, what are you talking about?”
Cheyenne explained that she'd felt bad about how she treated him at the Seniors Prom and reached out to apologize. During their conversation, he asked questions about Sister Betty and confessed his growing feelings.
“He said you and he ‘fit like a hand in a glove',” Cheyenne quoted. “I told him not to lay a glove on you, but do like Beyoncé said, and lay a ring on you instead.”
“You had no right to tell him that.” Sister Betty became annoyed, but only a little bit.
“Oh Betty, please,” Cheyenne rebuked. “It ain't like the two of you got from now on to get it together.”
“That's not the point,” Sister Betty replied. “We're not in love.”
“Have you ever been in love besides being in love with Jesus?”
Sister Betty didn't quite know how to respond. The only time in her life she could recall having such feelings was when she was a teenager. At seventeen, she'd given up her virginity in her parents' barn, become pregnant, then lost the baby months later. She'd not been close to feeling like that since.
Sister Betty hadn't meant for Cheyenne to see the pain on her face, although she was certain she had. “I guess I don't know what love is.”
“Honey, look,” Cheyenne said as she moved over so Sister Betty could sit closer. “The time for all those pie in the sky, moonlight kisses, and star spangled banner playing are over for you and Freddie. Y'all are too close to crossing over to waste a lot of time on regrets. I'm not telling you that you have to marry him next week, but if you feel anything close to what his feelings are, then be honest and give it a chance. I can tell you one thing . . .”
“What's that?” Sister Betty asked, although not sure if she wanted to know.
“This particular Christmas season and that particular Freddie Noel ain't no ordinary Noels.”
Trustee Noel barged into the room with that golf cap folded and crammed in his hand with a wild look upon his face. It meant one thing. Something had gone wrong, very wrong.
“I'm sorry, Sister Betty, but I need Miss Cheyenne right away.” He started rocking side-to-side and was about to yank that sprig of hair completely off his scalp.
Cheyenne reached for her cane. “What's wrong with you?”
“Has something happened downstairs?” Sister Betty asked. She fought hard against showing any jealousy since he'd asked for Cheyenne and not her.
“I'm sorry Sister Betty. You ain't fit for this type of mess and dousing folks won't work. I need Miss Cheyenne's help.”
Cheyenne finally inched her way off the bed, checked her hair to make sure it was still pinned, and slowly made it to Trustee Noel's side. “What is wrong with you? Is it Bea and Sasha?”
“No ma'am. It's much worse,” the trustee's yellow complexion looked jaundiced.
“What can be worse than Bea and Sasha?” Sister Betty couldn't imagine anything worse than the trouble they made.
“Again, I apologize to you, Sister Betty.” He was so frantic he almost lifted Cheyenne off the floor. Without stopping to see if she was ready to leave the room, he pointed at the boxes in the corner and told Sister Betty, “Why don't you just help yourself to any of those Mary Kay gifts. We'll be back shortly.”
And that's when Cheyenne looked at the stack of gift-wrapped Mary Kay boxes and fell out laughing. She turned and faced poor Freddie and asked, “Did you get all those boxes from where I think you got 'em?”
“Yes, ma'am, I did.”
“Oh my goodness,” Cheyenne replied as she led him out of the room. “It was your first time, wasn't it?”
“Yes, ma'am, it was.” Freddie glanced back at Sister Betty and whispered, “I'm so sorry.”
Chapter 33
D
uring the time Cheyenne and Sister Betty were upstairs, people came and went inside the Soul Food Shanty. Many stopped by because they'd heard about the private celebration and wanted to be included. If the media came by, they wanted to be there.
However, one had more on her mind than a mere television appearance. She watched for most of the evening with her eyes glued on the reverend and the trustee. She waited until most of the accolades were given and cell phone camera shots were taken of the two men before she made a move.
The two men had separate appeal; one had the looks, the position, the style, and the youth. The other had nothing more than a million bucks. She struggled to choose.
Thirty-five-year-old former Mary Kay Cosmetic Consultant Shaniqua Burke walked slowly toward the take-out counter near the door to the Shanty. Shaniqua, a mulatto former beauty queen from New Orleans, attended the At Last Disciple Temple in Belton. She was a size six vixen in a red curly wig that framed her oval face and accented her big brown eyes. The false hair cascaded past her shoulders and stopped at breasts so big they blocked her hair from falling any farther.
Shaniqua slowly pulled a stool away from the counter and laid her purse upon it. Then, as Nat King Cole's “chestnuts roasting on an open fire” flowed from squeaky speakers, she slowly removed her fur wrap, and showed her true skills. She also showed her toned thighs and bared her snow-white teeth. Men and flies fell out around the Shanty, and she'd not even begun to speak.
Her silent sermon was so good that even a few of the female doubters became converted.
Shaniqua pretended not to notice that all eyes were upon her and she dropped a napkin from the counter. She bent over. If she ever decided to preach, she showed from where she'd take her text. When she stood again, Cheyenne had joined her.
“Shaniqua,” Cheyenne said loudly. “Cut it out.”
“I'm just trying to sell—”
Cheyenne cut her off. “I know what you're trying to sell. I see boxes of it upstairs.”
Meanwhile the reverend wasn't immune to a soul in need of saving, so he walked over and made his introduction.
Cheyenne stood to the side to watch Lillie's grandbaby in action.
“Oh, I know who you are,” Shaniqua purred. “You're that pastor who was crazy enough to turn down more than a million dollars.” She stopped and placed her hand on one hip. “I must say that you look like a million, so maybe that's why you turned it down. I'd sure hate to think you were stupid.”
Upon hearing the word
stupid,
the trustee got enough nerve and walked over to stand next to Cheyenne.
“How are you doing, Miss Shaniqua?” Freddie asked with perspiration pricking his skin. “I really don't need any more products. I haven't used what I bought from you.”
No one saw Bea, Alice “Grandma Puddin',” and Sasha rush toward the Shanty door. Bea almost knocked Cheyenne over as she swooped up the purse and Shaniqua with it. Alice “Grandma Puddin'” held the Shanty's door open, and Sasha used her cane to convince Shaniqua to leave.
“Don't nobody take out the trash no more?” Sasha hissed as she kicked Shaniqua's fur out the door behind her.
“We got yo' back, Cheyenne,” Alice “Grandma Puddin' ” snapped. “That heffa-fied niece of yours won't be back to bother nobody.”
“I didn't need help with Shaniqua,” Cheyenne barked. “This was family business. I could've dealt with it.”
“But ya didn't and we did,” Bea replied angrily.
Bea didn't wait for a reply from Cheyenne. She turned away and received a high-five from Sasha. “Come on, Smurf,” Bea said as she led Sasha away, “we won't stop lookin' until we find yo teeth. That Shaniqua's one problem we hafta keep on solving. Ya think that little hussy would leave Pelzer boys alone.”
It took the reverend a moment to realize he needed to thank his busybody church mothers. He'd relaxed his guard a little too much and almost stepped into more drama. He could see his reputation sullied and the loss of confidence in the Promised Land if he'd proceeded to a place where lust had almost led him.
Cheyenne quickly got over her disappointment in how her niece always acted and chatted with the trustee for a moment.
Trustee Noel apologized to Cheyenne if he led Shaniqua on when he'd bought up her Mary Kay supplies. “I was only trying to help her make that quota she kept complaining about. She was your niece so I didn't think anything more about it until she showed up here tonight asking for me. Brother Casanova told me what she really wanted and it wasn't something I wanna give away all willy-nilly.”
Cheyenne stepped back and looked at the trustee. She sized him up and down and then smiled. “You mean you ain't never given it up willy-nilly or otherwise?”
His complexion turned beet-red, and he fidgeted with the cap he still held. He wouldn't answer her question directly, but said, “I think I might've misread Sister Betty. It didn't go too well upstairs.”
Cheyenne smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “I believe you need to go back upstairs and reread that book.”
BOOK: No Ordinary Noel
12.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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