Mama B - A Time to Speak (Book 1)

by Michelle Stimpson

  I shook my head. “It’s not me being offended I’m worried about. It’s the Lord. Listen, if you want to have another Body Enchantment party here, you are more than welcome. But we ‘gon call it a Body Enchantment party. And if you want to have a Bible study here, we can have that, too. But let’s not mix up Body Enchantment with the word of God. That’s all I’m saying.

  Almost could see smoke comin’ out of Cynthia’s ears.

  I couldn’t worry about her being mad. We needed to get to an understanding. “Now is this book club meetin’ y’all planning actually a book club meetin’ or is it another recruitin’ event?”

  Karen ran intervention. “If you want us focus on the book, we can.”

  “That would be best.”

  I stood up so they could get the message this conversation was over. I had done heard them out, they had done heard me out, it was up to the Holy Spirit in both of us to show us the rest.

  Plus it was going on nine o’clock and I don’t entertain folks that late.

  Chapter 13

  For our second Sunday at First Baptist, Rev. Jamaal preached another one of his get-rich-quick sermons. This time, he didn’t even bother to try and have a scripture to back it up. He put his hand on his chest and said, “This Sunday, I want to preach from my heart. Is that alright with y’all?”

  Couldn’t nobody beat Henrietta hollerin’, “Go ‘head, preacher!”

  He continued, “I want to talk to you about what the Lord did for me and my wife. Give you some real life experience. Is that alright?”

  Henrietta tilted her head toward me. “That’s the best kind of preachin, you ask me.”

  “Not to me,” I whispered back. “I need the word of God.”

  “Sometimes you need more than the word,” she said. She pooched out her lips and turned her head back to the pulpit.

  Far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing more important than the love of God all wrapped up in His word and His Son. I couldn’t take no more. For the first time in thirty-seven years, I tipped out of Sunday morning service early. Left Nikki and Cameron at church. Left my third Sunday homeless offering with Ophelia. Got in my car and drove the three miles from First Baptist back to my house. Slammed the door when I walked inside.

  Lord, I’m sorry I left the church today.

  First thing I did when I got home was get back in my prayer closet and ask the Lord to show me myself. I mean, got to be something wrong with me to get up and leave church early. And it can’t be right for me to get so mad in my own Father’s house.

  I just love the Lord. And I can’t stand to see nobody use Him for their own purposes. He’s too good for folk to treat Him like He some kind of genie in a bottle, they just got to figure out how to rub Him the right way to get what they want.

  But I can’t be runnin’ out the church every time something don’t go my way, neither. If it wasn’t Jamaal and Cynthia, the next pastor would probably do some things I didn’t like, if Pastor Phillips didn’t come back. Come to think of it, Pastor Phillips had did stuff I wasn’t too keen on. I never walked out on his sermon, though.

  Right or wrong, I couldn’t deny the fact that people listened to Rev. Dukes. He had a gift for leadership. Only his second time preaching, and he got a few of Mt. Zion’s deacons to stand on their feet, moanin’ and leadin’ him on—“Yes, sir!” “You tellin’ the truth!”

  I recognize anointing when I see it. Kinda reminded me of David, when he refused to kill Saul ‘cause he knew Saul was chosen by God. Even though Saul wasn’t actin’ right.

  Lord, I repent for being disrespectful to the preacher.

  Since Rev. Dukes wasn’t too interested in the word, I decided to turn on the television and catch one of my favorite ministers while my ground chicken burgers browned on the George Foreman grill.

  Wouldn’t you know, the Lord led me smack to a message about not arguing with people! Whoo, that’s just like Him to teach me something even in my disobedience. Preacher had us in 2 Timothy, talking about a workman approved by God.

  At first, I read it thinking about Rev. Jamaal and Cynthia and all their foolishness. But then I got down to verses twenty-three to twenty-five, where it talk about people getting into arguments with other folk.

  I think that part was for me. Well, I know it was. Figured I probably shouldn’t do ugly things like walk out of church right in the middle of the preacher’s message. Made me look childish to the very people I called myself trying to help.

  Nikki and Cameron got to be wonderin’ why I made them go to church, then walked myself right out.

  Well, wasn’t nothing I could do about it by that point. I had done come out my shoes, and stockings and changed into my soft bra already. Too late to turn back now.

  Cameron wasn’t too crazy about salads, but he would eat a little lettuce and tomato if I put it on a burger with cheese. I knew he wouldn’t be able to tell one way or another that he was eating chicken, not beef. Even Nikki ate just about anything I put in front of her so long as it didn’t look overly healthy.

  They both come through the door about an hour later than me. Service must have went long.

  “Mama B, we home!” Nikki called out.

  “I’m in the kitchen. Y’all get out of your Sunday clothes and come on in here and eat. Got burgers and baked beans.”

  Cameron rushed right in to see me instead. “Mama B, you alright?” He wrapped his arms around my waist, held on for dear life.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Why you ask?”

  “’Cause I saw you when you walked out the church. You looked like you were sick or something.”

  Out of the mouth of babes. I pushed him back, bent down to his eye level. “No, Cameron, Mama B wasn’t sick. But I thank you for thinking ‘bout me.

  “Then why did you leave?”

  “That’s a good question, Cameron. It’s not right to walk out of church—especially when the word of God is going forth.”

  Not that there was any word. Still. “I just had a bad thing going on, but I’m alright now. God met me here when I got home.”

  His mouth dropped open. “God was here?”

  “Yes, Cameron, God is everywhere.”

  “Oh. That’s good ‘cause there’s a lot of broke people who need God to come to their house and give them some money.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes ma’am. Pastor Drake said everybody in the church is going to be a millionaire. Then all the people start shoutin’, like this.”

  He jumped up out of his chair, threw his hands up in the air, and started dancing a holy dance before I had a chance to stop him. “Haba-laba-laba! Shamazzakamala! Thank you, Jesus!”

  I slapped my stirring spoon against the pot. “Cameron, stop that!”

  He froze. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Go put on your play clothes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Help me, Lord.

  Chapter 14

  I couldn’t hardly eat after talking to Cameron. Sat there picking over my food, then finally just went on and gave him the second half of my chicken burger.

  Later on, I called Ophelia. “You think we can get the mother’s board together this week? We need to pray.”

  She almost whispered to me, “You been thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’ about Rev. Dukes?”

  Had to answer, “I’m thinking we need to meet with the deacons, and pretty soon. My great-grandson thinks God is a Sugar Daddy.”

  She tisked. “Well, Shantay told me about what happened at the quote-unquote Bible study.”

  I confirmed, “I didn’t want to say nothin’ to you about it ‘cause I spoke my peace before they left.”

  “Good,” she said. “When you think Rev. Martin be ready to listen to us?”

  I thought about Henrietta and a few others who might actually side with Rev. Dukes. “I reckon we ought to pray about it first, Ophelia. I don’t want to do nothin’ to split the church.”

  She sighed. “Yeah, you right about that. Pastor Phillip
s just got Geneva back to town, and she in hospice over at Highland Crossings. Last thing he need is to be worryin’ about the church. He ain’t no spring chicken, either. Got to watch out for his own stress, too.”

  This was the first I had heard about Geneva being back. “When you headin’ to see her?”

  “Plan to go in the morning. So many folks from the church done been by there already, you know.”

  I asked, “What you gon’ take over?”

  “Spaghetti and garlic bread. Enough for a few days. Eunice Henderson said they got a sitting area with couches, a refrigerator and microwave and all for the visitors. Can you take some chicken Wednesday?”

  “Surely. Good night, Ophelia.”

  “Good night.”

  Before I went to bed, me and Jesus had a long talk over a nice, tall glass of lemonade and the book of James. I ate the word like it was my dinner because, that night, it was.

  After Libby and I finished our mid-week walk, she come back to my house and we made enough chicken, corn, and green beans to feed Pastor and Geneva for a few days. Packed some extra in plastic containers so he could freeze some for later. Then we hopped into my car and drove straight to Highland Crossings. Before we could even get down the hallway, I saw Eunice and Rev. Martin standing by Geneva’s door.

  “How y’all doing?” I asked them both.

  “Fine,” Eunice replied, looking at Libby like she out of place.

  “Y’all remember Libby. First lady of First Baptist.”

  “Oh, yes.” Eunice’s face relaxed.

  Libby asked, “Is it okay to go in?”

  “Yes, go ahead,” Rev. Martin said, holding the door open for me and Libby.

  We made our way to the inner room. Now, I done seen plenty folk on their deathbeds, holdin’ on for reasons only them and God know. I took a look at Geneva, her eyes all sunk in, her skin thin as onion paper, and nearly as white. Unless the Lord intervened, it wouldn’t be too long. I don’t know what they done to her at that cancer center, but it sure hadn’t helped. Pastor did the right thing by bringing her back.

  He was sitting right next to her bed, holding onto her hand like if he let go, she might fly away. Wasn’t too long before, Pastor lost his mother. She was in her nineties, but it really don’t matter how long somebody gets to live—still hurts when they die. Especially your momma.

  “Hi Pastor,” I whispered so as not to scare him.

  “Mama B. Should have known you’d be here so quickly.” He struggled to get to his feet. Pastor looked weak, too. I wondered if he even ate the food Ophelia brought him earlier up in the week.

  “Yes, Lord. So good to see you, Pastor.” He and I hugged, then I stepped aside so Libby could hug him, too.

  Pastor started to thank her again for letting us use their sanctuary, but Libby waved him off. “Don’t even think twice about it. I had my children share things all the time. I reckon God’s no different.”

  Pastor offered his chair, but neither of us would take it. I don’t know about Libby, but I was afraid he would keel over if he stood too long.

  Geneva made a moaning sound, and all three of us rushed to her bedside. Her eyes rolled open for just a second. Then she said real soft like a song, “Mama B. Libby.”

  “Geneva, you decided to come back to Texas, I see,” Libby joked.

  “Somebody gotta. Take care Ed.”

  We all laughed a bit, glad to see her sense of humor still in place. Just like her to try and keep everybody else going. She was a first lady through and through.

  “How’s the church?” Geneva wanted to know.

  Lord, I didn’t want to say anything off-color. “We doin’ fine, Geneva. Just fine.”

  Easy enough.

  But Pastor Phillips pushed, “I’ve been asking Rev. Martin to give me tapes of the sermon, but he said the system at First Baptist wasn’t set up to record sermons.”

  Libby squinted her eyes. “Oh, yes we are. I thought for sure Peter told Rev. Martin how to do it. I’ll double-check.”

  Right there was my first inclination that maybe Rev. Martin didn’t want Pastor Phillips hearin’ Rev. Dukes messages because I know Peter told Rev. Martin how to tape the messages. I was sitting right there, heard it with my very own ears.

  Somebody rapped on the door. “Knock knock.”

  “Come on in, Dr. Wilson,” Pastor told him.

  In walked the doctor. Tall, gray hair around the edges, and black as midnight. I thought maybe he was African until he said, “Hello, everyone,” with no accent.

  We all said hello back, including Geneva.

  “May I have a moment with Miss Geneva? I need to take a good look at her.”

  “Yes, sir,” Pastor answered, leading me and Libby out to the hallway.

  “What the doctors been sayin’?” Eunice wanted to know.

  Pastor frowned up. “They don’t know. One minute they say all they can do is make her comfortable. Next minute, they want to try some experimental procedures. Insurance won’t pay for it, no guarantee it’ll work anyway. I don’t want ‘em using her for a guinea pig, but I want to give her every chance.”

  I patted his arm. “Doctors don’t know everything, Pastor. That’s why they in practice.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” he agreed.

  “Let’s just pray right now,” Libby said. She grabbed both our hands and we made a circle outside Geneva’s room and called on Jesus. Thanked Him for His healing power, put our faith in His blood and His finished work on the cross. Asked the Lord to give the doctors wisdom, and give Pastor strength to continue aiding Geneva in Jesus’s name.

  We said, “Amen,” and that’s when I heard Dr. Wilson say it, too. Guess he joined in the prayer somewhere along the way.

  “No change in her condition, but she is resting fairly well. You can go back in now.”

  “Thank you,” Pastor said and he rushed back into the room.

  Libby barely caught the door handle behind him.

  That’s when Dr. Wilson stopped in his tracks, turned back around and said to me, “Excuse me. I don’t believe I caught your name.”

  “Beatrice.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Beatrice.” Got a big, wide smile on his face. I, for one, didn’t see much to be all chippy about. And for two, I know those teeth of his wasn’t real.

  “Thank you. Same here, Dr. Wilson. You take good care of my friend.”

  “Certainly. And I hope to see you again.” He folded up his laptop and went on down the hallway.

  We went back into the room, stood over Geneva with Pastor and sent up another prayer, then Libby pulled one of the plastic containers out of her purse and left it with Pastor. “We got plenty more where that came from. Just let B know when you and Geneva get home. We got ‘em already frozen for you.”

  “Sure appreciate you and Libby,” he said.

  “Mmm hmm,” Geneva moaned again.

  Libby and I decided to make a little stop at the whole food store on the way back. Plenty fresh strawberries, blueberries, and green beans to choose from. I picked up a few squash. Cameron didn’t know it yet, but he was about to float into squash heaven by the time I finished cooking it.

  We got in line, waited our turn to check out. Libby come teasin’ me, “Well, B, if I’m not mistaken, I do believe Dr. Wilson was a little sweet on you.”

  “Sweet on me?”

  “Yes! He asked you for your name directly.”

  I smacked my lips. “Libby, that man wasn’t studyin’ me.”

  “Yes he most certainly was!”

  “Well, if he was, I wouldn’t know.” I turned my nose up.

  “Oh, B, why wouldn’t he? Look at you.” She held her arm out, swung her hand up and down like she showing off a washing machine on The Price is Right.

  I looked past her. “Move ahead, Libby. You holdin’ up the line.”

  Chapter 15

  Cameron finished all his books before the due date, and Nikki said she would take him back to get more. “While
I’m there, I can follow up on a job I applied for online last week. I can’t believe you don’t have an Internet connection in this house, Mama B.”

  “Hey, I got an iPhone with my email, and I can look stuff up on my phone. That’s all I need,” I said to her while cutting cantaloupe. That Cameron was a fruit fanatic, eat it all day if you don’t watch him.

  Nikki kissed me on the cheek. “It’s alright. I need ta get that book No Ways Tired and read it before Saturday’s book club meeting.”

  I smiled at her. “Nikki-Nik, you readin’ books now?”

  “Yes, if it’s something I’m interested in.” She slung her purse over her shoulder.

  “Here. Taste this.” I held out a piece of the fruit on a fork.

  She winced. “No. I don’t like cantaloupe.”

  “Try it and see.” I pushed it closer to her mouth.

  She closed her eyes, all dramatic, and bit into the sample. Her eyes opened, face brightened. “Wow, that was good!”

  I winked at her. “You got to get it fresh from the farmer’s market, not the big grocery store.”

  She rinsed her hands, grabbed a paper towel and stole a few more cubes from the bowl. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Alright. I’m looking forward to this book you’re bringing home. Maybe if you finish reading it early enough, I might get a few pages in before y’all meet so I can talk, too. That title is one of my favorite songs.”

  Rev. Martin didn’t return none of my text messages or emails that week. Well, let me take that back. He didn’t return ‘em at a decent hour. Look like he waited ‘til he knew good and well I was in bed with my phone turned off before he replied. Even then, he didn’t answer my question. I wanted to know if me, him, a few of the deacons, and Ophelia could sit down that week. Discuss our concerns.