Somewhat Saved (4 page)

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Authors: Pat G'Orge-Walker

BOOK: Somewhat Saved
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“She's a liar!” Bea screamed, spittle flying from the corners of her turned-down mouth. “She's just jealous. She's always been jealous.”
No one said a word, as they waited for the rest of the sordid tale to come out.
They didn't have to wait long because Bea was just getting started. “It was her ugly butt that kissed my boyfriend, Jas, at the tennis match when we were living in Williamston, South Carolina.”
Old Buck knew that they were both wrong. As hazy as his memory was at times, he'd never forget that debacle. It had started at a home-going service of one of their high school teachers. Her name was Miss Lizzie Crow. It was immediately after the service and folks had gathered to eat in the field behind the church and chat about the service.
Buck, at that time an award-winning sprinter, had dashed across the field to use the outhouse. When he came out, he saw Sasha's own sister, Areal Hellraiser, displaying her curves against an old juniper tree. She was using her pink tongue, letting it dart in and out, as she licked a young man's willing face, almost devouring his mouth. And, because Buck, even back then, had been a lurker, he'd watched with fascination.
Old Buck couldn't remember what Areal wore, only what she'd done. But he did remember that the fellow wasn't Sasha's boyfriend. It was just some guy that she and a whole bunch of girls liked. His name was Jimmy or perhaps it was Jasper. He smiled at the memory and shook his head as he watched the two old women go at each other.
She was close,
Buck thought.
At least the man's name had started with a J.
Buck's smile grew almost maniacal as he also remembered that he saw that same Areal Hellraiser later that same week kissing Bea's boyfriend, too. It happened at a baseball game, not a tennis match. And, Bea's boyfriend's name was also Jimmy or maybe it was Jasper too.
Old Buck placed a hand inside one of his torn pants pockets, looking angelic as he let his mind recall other details from his youth, both real and imagined. Of course, his memory was just as faulty as Bea's and Sasha's. It was a good thing he'd kept his mouth shut because he'd only fuel the eternal flame.
It was an instant replay. Bea and Sasha had fought off and on over the past twenty years, mostly over accusations that neither had witnessed but had been told by someone they couldn't even remember. Sadly, there were other times when they just fought because they both existed in the same place and for no other reason.
“I have an idea.” The Reverend Bling excitedly snapped a finger to get everyone's attention. He'd finally decided that he needed to take charge, particularly since he saw that most of the other seniors led by Buck had taken the opportunity to sneak away. He didn't blame them. He'd have left, too, but his desire to live another day and not be arrested outweighed a bingo pot.
By the time the reverend finished snapping his fingers, the only ones left in the basement were the two old mothers, the two ushers, and himself.
“Obviously, it's my fault that the numbers got mixed up when the table overturned. Therefore, my solution is to give a consolation prize that can be shared by the two of you.”
“I don't want a consolation prize. I want my thousand dollars,” Sasha barked. She was livid and was about to snatch a hat pin to stick him and make her point.
“I don't want any consolation prize either.” Bea became so mad with the reverend's shameless ploy that she handed Sasha's cane to her and then pointed toward the reverend. She shouted, “Go ahead, Sasha. Handle your business.”
The reverend's self-preservation went into overdrive. His eyes grew large like an owl's as he scanned the room trying to come up with a plan. Then he saw a plan come together.
Behind the bingo table was an old bookcase. The reverend saw something there that he took as a sign from God. Sticking out of one of the reference dream books was the plane reservation ticket for his upcoming trip to Las Vegas. He had received it about a month ago after turning in his frequent flyer miles and had placed it in the book for safekeeping.
His pastoral anniversary was coming up. He'd planned to fake humbleness and take cash from the congregation, along with one of its female members.
He wouldn't tell the Pastor's Aide Auxiliary that he'd already paid for his trip by cashing in his mileage. Instead, he'd pocket the church's money to use in the casino playing the nickel slot machines. At the time he'd purchased the tickets he hadn't known about the upcoming Mothers Board Conference.
However, at that moment, he'd give his only good leg just to get out of that church's basement without harm.
Just as Sasha was about to lift the sharpened business end of her cane with the help of her temporary ally, Bea, the reverend spoke up again, quickly.
“Mothers, come. Let's reason together,” he said with false confidence.
“Isn't that term,
reason together
, from the Bible?” Sister Judah quickly leaned over and asked Sister Israel.
“I'm not sure. If it isn't, it sure sounds like it could be.” Sister Israel made a mental note to look it up in the dust-covered Bible she'd bought some time ago from the Family Dollar Store.
“What do you have in mind?” Bea asked with a hint of suspicion as she gently placed her hand on Sasha's scrawny shoulder to temporarily stop her from harming the reverend.
“Out of the goodness of my heart and, of course, being led by a spirit, I want to send the both of you to the upcoming Mothers Conference in Las Vegas, Nevada. You'll be in Las Vegas and out of my sight for almost a month!”
His smile was broad and insincere. The dim light in the basement beamed upon his twenty remaining teeth mostly crowded in the front. The brown-stained teeth looked like he had about twenty malt chocolate bits sticking out of his gums.
It only took a moment for the two old women to understand the offer. It took less time than that for them to forget that moments before he was the common enemy who'd made them the best of friends.
“I'm not going on no trip with this old hag,” Sasha snapped as she shoved away Bea's hand. “Keep your sinning paws off me.”
“I know you didn't think I'd share a room with you and your bursitis. And you smell like week-old corn chips and spoiled cabbage juice,” Bea chided with her voice steadily rising. “I'd rather sip cold olive oil and soak my teeth in hot orange juice.”
A mask of concern covered Sasha's normal nastiness. It was as though she and Bea were suddenly the best of friends again.
“You know, they say that a mixture of cold olive oil and hot orange juice is good for the digestive system. It'll make you regular,” Sasha said sweetly as she reached for one of Bea's swollen hands.
“You think so?” Bea asked. Suddenly she, too, felt a foreign tenderness to the little sprite, who usually gave her indigestion. Concern spread over Bea's face. She leaned closer and continued sharing with her temporary best friend.
“I've been a little on the backed-up side recently. Sometimes, when I go to the bathroom, I feel like I'm about to sprain something.” Bea's cheeks inflated as she patted the fatty tissue on her plump rump and stomach for emphasis.
“T-M-I,” the Reverend Bling interrupted, and covered his ears. “That's too much information! Have mercy!”
“Oh, God will if you let Him,” Sasha turned and said. She could taste the sweetness in her voice as her eyes traveled slowly upward and over toward the huge white cross hanging between the bingo and the exit signs.
Unlike Sasha, whose sweetness seemed content to stay around a bit, Bea's mind teetered dangerously between sweet and surly.
“Should we make the call for the flight and hotel reservations or will you do it, Reverend Bling?” Bea asked softly, choosing to be sweet.
Bea didn't wait for the reverend to respond. Her touch was almost genuine as she then bear-hugged Sasha. “I can't wait to take a trip with my best friend. I could use a little R and R.”
I bet you could use a little rubbing alcohol and roulette,
the reverend thought as he continued grinning, appreciating his own genius.
Unfortunately Bea, in her temporary state of sweetness, had hugged that still-sore spot where she had just nipped Sasha with the false teeth. The pain was enough to wake the demons in Sasha and she let loose.
“She's attacking me,” Sasha cried out as she tried to extricate her tiny body from Bea's clutches. She spun and raised her cane, pointing it toward Bea's shocked face, and screamed, “Reverend Bling, did you see that?”
It was loud enough to take Bea's demons off pause. “She's a liar. She tried to steal my thousand-dollar bingo pot,” Bea yelled as she hopscotched in a circle, trying to avoid Sasha's cane.
The reverend felt his blood pressure soar into upper triple digits. He couldn't take it any longer.
Doggone Alzheimer's gonna make those two old crones destroy my place of business.
He forgot his own disability as he tried to defy the law of gravity by attempting to stand. Without giving another thought to the absence of his kickstand support, he placed the thumb of one hand in his robe pocket, looked straight at them, and orated. “Leviticus, chapter five and verse eight, ‘And he shall bring them unto the priest, who shall offer that which is for the sin offering first, and wring off their heads from their necks, but shall not divide it asunder. ' ”
He surprised himself again. Until that evening, the only verse he could quote from memory was, “Jesus wept.”
With the fat under his chin hanging and flapping like a deranged turkey's wattle, he raised his voice to almost falsetto. “You two old women are going on that trip to Las Vegas and you're going together or I'm going to carry out God's word and wring your wrinkled necks.”
Bea and Sasha quieted and watched the reverend try to reclaim his composure. As they waited, they hung their heads in remorse, temporarily forgetting they weren't afraid of the reverend. Suddenly, they saw the reverend as more manly and authoritative as he ordered them around. Even his ugly chocolate brown teeth didn't look so bad.
“Of course, if you say so, we'll go together,” Sasha replied, as she batted the remaining five eyelashes on her right eyelid.
Bea innocently stepped in front of Sasha, completely covering the woman's view of the reverend. “Will you be traveling with us, Pastor?” she asked with a broad smile. She hadn't remembered putting her teeth back in but there they were. She knew because she could taste the residue from the Fixodent paste.
“Oh, hell no!” the Reverend Bling shot back, and then quickly repented. “Oh, Lord, I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to say no.” He then calmed down enough to add nicely, “Just go pack and don't tell anyone.”
“Oh, we won't tell anyone,” Bea replied, lying.
“Can we ask which airline we'll be flying on?” Sasha asked. “I'm just a bit curious.”
The reverend picked up the reservation form from between the pages of the dream book and smiled. “The Closet Airline. You'll be on flight fifty-fifty.” He stopped and fingered the tickets inside the manila envelope, suddenly remembering that he would have to pay extra to get the names changed on them. It would be well worth it, and anyway, he definitely didn't need them knowing that he'd planned on taking along one of the other female church members. “Y'all are leaving within the coming week. I'll call you as soon as I get home and make your reservations.”
“The Closet Airline, it sounds small, intimate, and a lot like fun,” Bea said as she turned to Sasha, adding, “By the way, I've flown many times.”
She was lying.
“So have I,” Sasha replied. She was lying, too.
Bea wouldn't leave well enough alone. She had to take it further. “I'm actually used to flying either in first or in business class. In case you didn't know, that's located in the back of the plane like those seats in a limousine.”
“Of course I knew that,” Sasha answered with a huff. Turning to the ushers, who still hadn't moved, Sasha confessed, “Bea and I like to tell the truth just like Ananias and his wife did in the Bible days.”
Neither usher responded. Instead, Sister Judah whispered to the other, “Didn't they fall over dead because they lied to the disciples?”
“I believe I have heard or read about that somewhere,” Sister Israel replied.
Sister Judah looked around quickly and added, “Lightning just may strike those two. I think we should be safe standing over here. If they fall they won't hit us by accident.”
While the two ushers stood safely, so they imagined, a few feet away, the two old women continued with their minds temporarily relaxed by senility.
Still grinning like a mouse hiding the last piece of cheese, Bea said nicely, as she walked back to where she'd left her pocketbook, “That's wonderful that you've flown before. I should've known that you had because you're so modern. Why don't you come by my house tomorrow and we can discuss what we'll pack.”

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