We made it to New Rainbow inside of fifteen minutes
as traffic was still light. The church had already begun filling
with congregation members so, quickly, Gerry and I made our way
towards the front pews.
When we passed the statue holding the urn of anointing oil, I
stopped to anoint myself. Gerry mimicked and I smiled. "See,
Gerry," I whispered, " you do know how to show contrition."
"Um, excuse me? I mean I have been to church before! I just
ain't never been to this one."
We took our seats and I looked over to Gerry, "Are you okay? Can
you see from here?"
"Kye, I mean damn! Am I blind or something? We are sitting in
the front of the damn church! Relax! I'm fine! Smch!" When he
sucked his teeth, I noticed his mouth. "Gerry, why did you put so
much gloss on your lips?"
"Girl, that ain't gloss. I got too much anointing oil on my
finger, so I rubbed the excess on my lips."
Appalled, I opened the clasp on my hand purse and handed him a
tissue, "Gerry, rub some of that shit off your lips!"
"No! And stop cussing in church, Kye!"
"Gerry, wipe it off now!"
"I said no, gotdamnit! Now hush and leave me the fuck alone!
Church is starting."
Sandy delivered the church announcements, as well as the
visitors' greeting. Then, she walked her signature sashay back to
her seat in the pulpit.
"Oooo, Kye!" Gerry leaned over to my ear. "Did you see them
pumps she had on? You know it took at least ten people's tithes to
pay for them! They're fierce girl!"
"You ain't never lied," I giggled. "Now hush!" and turned to him
with an index finger placed over my lips.
"Alright, alright!" he whispered back. "I just thought I'd give
you something to think about since I know they'll be passing a
collection plate around at some point. Oh, and just so you know,
all I can spare is five dollars. Matter fact, three-fifty; I need
the rest to buy me a newspaper when we get out of here." All I
could do was sigh.
Next to arrive at the altar was Deacon Harding. He led the men's
music ministry. "Good morning church! It's time to stand up and
give praise!" Then, he turned from the podium to face the choir and
gestured the men to their feet by lifting his hands.
"Oh, I feel…" Deacon Harding opened in song, and the men joined
in, "like praising, praising Him!"
"Oooo, Kye! We know this song! Remember? Nana's church choir
used to sing this one all the time!" Gerry rose from his seat and
participated in praise with wide flamboyant hand claps.
Somewhere, midway through the song, Gerry had spotted Alex, among
the sea of purple chorus robes, and nudged me, "Oooo, Kye! Look at
your silly man up there trying to fake like he's really singing."
Gerry waved an arm in the air and caught Alex's attention. Then he
mouthed, "Nigga stop front'n! You're not really singing. What
you're doing is called lllll-lip-uh sssss-syncing-uh!" All I could
think to do was hide my face in my hands.
After the choir's performance, before he sat back down, Gerry
took a second to glance over his shoulder at the pews behind ours.
"Uh, lookahere, Kye. Just that quick, right behind us, I counted
fourteen."
"What?"
"You heard me; fourteen!"
"Fourteen what, Gerry?"
"Fourteen sexy men checking me out, girl!"