Let The Church Say A Man Ring…ring…..I think we were the only family in the city with a house phone still in service, Damn magic jack, somebody was always inventing something, and my Nana was always on them late night infomercials buying something. “Donya get the phone girl.” She yelled from the kitchen. “Okay Nana, I got it.” I replied cracking my gum. “Hello.” “Well hello there Donya this is Sister Jones is your Nana there?” “Hold on one second let me get her, she’s in there peeling them greens.” I replied hearing Sister Jones gasp with enthusiasm. Just greedy I said under my breath. “Nana,” I yelled, “It’s sister Jones on the phone for you.” I waited and passed the phone to my Nana before heading up to my room. I knew exactly what Sister Jones wanted. Tomorrow was second Sunday and my Nana was the best cook in the church. They always wanted her to make soul food and bring it with us when we came. Sister Jones had a daughter named Malisha who sang in the choir and also was dating Sinclair Pointer who was the director of the choir. Sinclair was always giving Malisha the leads on every song so I got out the choir for that very reason. Well actually, that was only one of the reasons I got out of the choir. I knew tomorrow the choir was going to clown since we had a guest church from Jacksonville coming to visit us. Our Pastor always put on a show when we had a guest. It was already bad enough when I sat in the front pew because Nana made me sometimes; it felt like Pastor was talking right to me. I knew I wasn’t a Saint by far and I had my share of shortcomings and dejections but so did a lot of other women in our church. I lay in my bed thinking about last Sunday now, Pastor looked right at me, wiped his forehead with that holy cloth and went in. “Many of these men claim to have unfailing love, but a faithful man who can find…..see, the righteous man’s blameless life…..Now, I say, some of you sisters up in here…young and old, fall for the wickedness of that unrighteous man…now turn your bibles to Proverbs 18; 22.” “He who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord.” The pastor said. The whole church bust out with a loud Amen, and Old man Sonny started playing the organ. Malisha started singing a rendition of Yolanda Adams, The battle Is Not Yours. I sat silently for the rest of service thinking about my life. I was dating a thug that didn’t have a spiritual bone in his body. Cyrus Walker was my dude and I loved him a lot. He didn’t work a real job but he always did nice things for me. When I needed nail money or hair money it was never an issue. He rewarded me and I rewarded him like a good woman should do for her man. I tried to talk Cyrus into visiting the Church and just giving the Lord a try. I mean I felt that it couldn’t hurt since the word said that we were all sinners and that our God was a loving and forgiving God. I figured that everybody who knew that knew that church was the first step to redemption. Cyrus said that he wasn’t stepping none of his feets up in a church, just like that, feets. My Nana didn’t like Cyrus at all but she knew that I was still seeing him. She just always felt that something was up with a young man who didn’t work and could afford a nice car like Cyrus had. She was right something was up, but Cyrus made sure that he kept me out of his street life. He’d made that promise to me when we first started dating and he had kept it. I knew he was in the rap game but none of his music did anything major as of yet. He had a few homemade mix tapes and one single some fugasi company played him to do, but that was all he had. I feel asleep to the smell of Collards coming through the ventilation system of our two-story home. One thing was for sure, I had to agree with Sister Jones, my Nana Ethel Jean Thomas was the best cook in the world. From the Pen of the Storytellah
Posted on: Sun, 14 Dec 2014 14:41:04 +0000
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