Mama B - A Time to Speak (Book 1)

by Michelle Stimpson

  Rev. Dukes wife must have heard our conversation. She threw her nose up in the air, waltzed over, and stopped right between me and my granddaughter. “Hello, my sisters, my name is Cynthia Dukes. I’m Rev. Dukes’s wife. So blessed to make your acquaintances.”

  “My name is Beatrice Jackson, but everybody calls me Mama B. This here is my granddaughter, Nikki.” I looked around for Cameron, but he must have been outside with the other kids.

  “We are so happy to be here,” Cynthia said with a big smile on her face. Her peach lipstick matched the peach two-piece jacket and dress, but I could hardly see the rhinestone design for all the waves of hair flowing everywhere. Who these folk think they foolin’ with all this fake hair?

  Well, anyway, I guess that’s how they do it these days. Maybe they ain’t tryin’ to fool nobody no more.

  I figured Cynthia meant what she said about being glad to be at Mt. Zion. My question was why she was so happy to be at Mt. Zion.

  Lord knows I don’t like to think bad of people, but when something ain’t right, it ain’t right. Even if I can’t quite put my finger all the way on it.

  Nikki grabbed Cynthia’s hand and give it a shake like the woman just offered her a job or something. “I soooo enjoyed the message today. Next week, when I start looking for my job, I am going to think bigger, beyond anything I’ve ever done because I know God wants nothing but the very best for me.”

  Angela joined our little crowd. “Mama B, you look so nice today.”

  “Mmm hmm. I was just admiring your blouse,” Cynthia said.

  “Thank you.”

  Angela said, “Cynthia, this is the lady I was telling you about. She’s the one hosting the women’s fellowships in her home, right behind the church.”

  Cynthia’s brows slid up three inches. I didn’t know what she had in mind, but I knew she wanted something.

  “Mama B, my goodness, the Lord works in mysterious ways,” she started in on me. “I was just telling Angela, I want to have the women’s book club meeting at your house.”

  “Book club?”

  Cynthia held my hands inside of hers, like we kids about to play a game of patty-cake. “Yes. The women from our home church have a strong book club. Discussing literature provides a wonderful opportunity for the women to fellowship and talk about real-life issues.”

  “Sounds great,” Nikki chimed in.

  Wasn’t but a few days previous, I couldn’t get my granddaughter to take a book off the shelf at the library!

  Cynthia continued, “We also have a woman to woman group. We chit-chat and study the Bible from a woman’s perspective. We’d love to meet this weekend with the ladies of Mt. Zion, if that’s alright?”

  I wasn’t expectin’ all that so quick-like. They just got here this morning and already trying to start new ministries.

  “Ooh, I can’t wait,” Nikki bubbled over. “Can we do it, Mama B?”

  Hearing my grandbaby excited about anything pertaining to church was music to my ears. “Well, I suppose it’s not a problem, so long as Pastor Phillips agrees.”

  Cynthia clapped her hands. “Wonderful Jesus!”

  She looked around and called, “Sister Karen! Sister Karen!”

  A woman with just as much hair come down the center aisle so fast, look like she comin’ to save a baby from a burning building.

  “Yes, sister?”

  “This is Mama B. Mama B, this is Karen. She’s my armor bearer.”

  Karen had a genuine kindness in her warm eyes. I liked her already. Sometimes you can just tell when you come across good peoples, open hearts and eager to help. “Hello, woman of God.”

  “Hi, Karen.”

  “Karen, Mama B is going to host the woman to woman Bible study Saturday night. You two need to exchange numbers,” Cynthia said—more like ordered—and walked away.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Karen got her cell phone out her purse in a hurry. “Mama B, may I have your number?”

  “Certainly may. And I’ll give you my email, too.”

  Nikki and I prepared a fruit tray along with Rotel dip and tortilla chips. I made the meat with half-turkey and half-ground beef.

  I think Nikki was glad to be meeting with the ladies of the church. Her job-hunting wasn’t going so good. She spent two days at the library looking stuff up on the internet, and she wore that same black dress to four or five places filling out applications. Still nobody called her back yet.

  “Give it some time,” I told her as I motioned for her to hand me a bowl so I could put the cheese squares in the microwave.

  “I don’t have much more left in my savings.”

  “Well, at least you had something to fall back on. You been smart about your money, I can tell. Lot of folks lose their jobs and be stuck out.”

  I wouldn’t want to make her lazy by telling her, but she could stay with me long as she needed to, so long as I could see she was making an effort to get back on her feet. Got no problem helping people who’s trying to help theyself.

  “Thanks, Mama B. That’s what I like about you.” She had stopped cutting green peppers, put a hand on her hip, and looked at me.

  “What?”

  “Nobody had ever told me I was doing a good job with Cameron before you. All I’ve ever heard from my mother was how silly it was for me to get pregnant my senior year in high school and then not have an abortion. You make me feel like I made the best of the situation by giving birth to Cameron and doing everything I can to give him a good start in life.”

  “You got to know you made the right decision every time you look at him. He’s something else, ain’t he?”

  The corners of her mouth turned up. “He sure is.”

  “What time Rev. Martin want the parents to pick up the kids from the movies?”

  “Eight-thirty.”

  “Oh, good. We should be finished with the Bible study by then.”

  Somehow, Cynthia rounded up about ten female members of Mt. Zion between the ages of twenty-five and forty and got ‘em all over to my house by six Saturday evening. Another seven women from wherever church they was from joined us. We had a full house. Had to run to the church and get some folding chairs out the fellowship hall.

  Me and Nikki made sure every last one of them had a full bowl and a drink of pink lemonade. A couple of napkins. Showed them all where the bathroom was, and it was time to get going.

  Karen opened up with a prayer, then Cynthia had everybody do an introduction.

  When it came my time, I said, “My name is Beatrice, but everybody calls me Mama B. I love the Lord and now that my husband is gone on to glory, I’m married to Jesus.”

  They laughed a little. I know it sounds funny, but it sure is the truth.

  Angela raised her hand. “Mama B, do you mind telling everybody how old you are?”

  “Sure don’t! I’m proud of my age. I’m seventy-two years old.”

  Everybody started gaspin’ and hootin’. “No way!” “Nu uh.” One of them asked me to pull out my license to prove it.

  “You walk in the Lord’s ways, He’ll preserve you.”

  They tickled me. Way they was actin’, you think I was Methusela. Seventy-two ain’t all that old—it’s just old to them ‘cause they thirty and forty-something. But the older you get, the younger old people start lookin’ to you.

  After everybody finished telling if they married, how many kids they got, what kind of work they do, so on and so forth, Cynthia led everybody to the book of Isaiah, chapter nineteen, verse eleven. “If you are willing and obedient, you will eat the best from the land; but if you resist and rebel, you will be devoured by the sword. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

  I was glad to hear her discuss something about loyalty to the Lord. I took a seat and rested from serving the women.

  “Ladies, there are two conditions: be willing and obedient. You have to be willing to make a move. Willing to do what thus says the Lord. But beyond a willingness, you have to step out on faith in obedience. Amen?”<
br />
  “Amen,” from the room.

  “You’ve heard that if you want something different, you have to do something different. I don’t know about you, but I want what’s here in the word. Eating the best and living beyond your wildest dreams, blessed in excess of what you can think or imagine. More money than you can count!”

  “Amen.” Louder now.

  Here we go.

  I looked over at Nikki and almost saw dollar signs dancing in her eyes. She was so hungry for work.

  “And, ladies,” Cynthia went on, “God has provided us a wonderful opportunity for such a time as this.”

  Karen got up, reached to the side of the couch and grabbed the handle of a super-size suitcase. I don’t know how I missed them lugging that thing in, but they sure did sneak it past me.

  Cynthia laid the luggage flat and unzipped it. She reached down and pulled out a black bodysuit-looking thing with a bunch of silver hooks up and down the front. Remind me of the old swimsuits men used to wear.

  “Ladies,” she stood up and announced real big and bold, “this is Body Enchantment.”

  What in the world?

  “I’ve been selling these independently for three weeks, making serious money. This product sells itself because it makes women look up to three sizes smaller in less than fifteen minutes.”

  Mt. Zion women starts oooh-in’ and aaah-in’. “I got to see this for myself.”

  Cynthia flipped her hair back. “Before I make the presentation to you about the business opportunity, you have to try it for yourself first.”

  “I’m ready,” LaTonya hopped up.

  I couldn’t help myself. Raised my hand. Tried to make my voice sound real sweet. “I’m sorry…umm…I thought we was doin’ a Bible study here tonight?”

  Cynthia shook her head. “Mama B, there comes a time when you got to get up off your knees, close your Bible, and get to work. God’s not going to give you the best of the land while you’re sitting on your behind. You have to be obedient to Him! Give Him something to work with! Otherwise, you can’t blame Him when you can’t pay your bills.” She took her eyes off of me. “Am I right?”

  Everybody from her church gave her an amen.

  Shantay Lewis, director of Sunday school since Geneva came down with the cancer, interrupted again. “Is this what you’re going to discuss the rest of the night?”

  “Well, yes, unless you’ve got something else on your mind, my sister,” Cynthia replied, blinking quickly.

  Shantay stood up, pulled her purse strap on her shoulder. “I’ve been to one of these parties before.”

  “Oh,” Karen tried to stop her, “aren’t you interested in the business opportunity?”

  “No, thank you. You ladies have a good night.”

  Tell em, Shantay!

  “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.”