Mama B - A Time to Speak (Book 1)

by Michelle Stimpson

  A little vein popped out in Rev. Dukes head. Guess he got tired of talking to me. “The talent show will go on as planned. Good night, Mama B.”

  And he walked out the church with Brandon’s crew trailing behind.

  Me and Rev. Martin was the only ones left. I stepped outside the church doors, waited on the deck while he locked all the switches.

  “Rev. Martin, I know Rev. Dukes some kin to you all, but right is right and wrong is wrong. And you know Pastor Phillips wouldn’t go for this foolishness.”

  He fiddled around with the padlock longer than he had to. “Listen, I know what you’re saying, but Rev. Dukes is family. His heart is in the right place, and he does know the way. I think he’s just off on a prosperity tangent right now. I don’t want to blacklist him.”

  I agreed, “Nobody tryin’ to blacklist anybody. We just tryin’ to—”

  “Between you and me, I don’t believe Pastor’s wife is going to hold on much longer. Once she goes on home to glory, Pastor will be back and Mt. Zion can get back to normal.”

  Sounded like a coward move to me. Still, I couldn’t be too mad at him. Just a few hours earlier, I felt the same way. Until I saw what Brandon had in store for my grandson. Made me think not only about Cameron, but about everybody else’s little boy fall under Brandon and Rev. Dukes’ guidance.

  “I know Pastor left you in charge to keep everything going smooth. You got to recognize, good heart or not, family or not, Rev. Dukes doin’ more harm than good right now.”

  Rev. Martin sighed, stared down at me with tired eyes. “Mama B, I got this, okay?”

  Chile, I know when a man get a certain look on his face, ain’t nothin’ else you can say to him. He done heard all he can hear at the moment, and he shuttin’ down so he can go process what you done said. Best thing to do in that point is shut-up.

  “Night, Rev. Martin.”

  “Good night. I’ll watch you until you get in your house.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter 23

  One more thing I know about when a man gets like that: ain’t nothin’ else you can do aside from gettin’ down on your knees and askin’ God to do what you can’t. So, that’s exactly what I did when I got home. Got in that groove I done made from my elbows sinking in the mattress. Prayed to the Lord not only for Mt. Zion, but for Rev. Dukes’ regular church and all the other ones that must be going off track. Chasing the things of this world. Forgetting to take the cross over while they tryin’ to crossover. Just done forgot about Jesus altogether.

  My heart got heavier the longer I prayed. Thought about all the violence in the streets, the ungodly influences our boys under. How they gon’ learn the truth if they under leaders who don’t read the word? Preachers who ain’t disciplined enough to sit up under the Holy Spirit and let Him teach them how to divide the word rightly?

  I also told the Lord I didn’t plan on going to that talent show. Much as I loved Cameron and wanted to see him perform, I couldn’t support him in what I felt was wrong-doing. I knew Nikki looked up to the Dukes so much, she wouldn’t agree with me.

  Made me sad I had ever insisted she come to Mt. Zion, considerin’ the current state of affairs.

  Then I listened. Waited for Him to tell me my part; if He wanted me to do something else in addition to fastin’ and prayin’.

  Started searching through the scriptures, thinking about all the times the people of God fought for the church. And when I landed in second Chronicles, I realized the Lord had decided to answer me in His word.

  I like ta fell out laughin’ when I saw it ‘cause seem like every time I get myself all worked up over something, the Lord have to come in and remind me I ain’t runnin’ nothing. This ain’t about people hatin’ on me, like Rev. Dukes said.

  This battle never belonged to me in the first place. It was His.

  Chapter 24

  Libby helped me practice how I was going to explain to Cameron about not going to the talent show. At first, I wasn’t gon’ say nothin’, but I know how much he was looking forward to me being there. I didn’t want him distracted by looking for me in the audience.

  “Be sure and tell him you love him,” Libby said.

  “Got it.”

  “And ain’t nothin’ against him,” she reminded me.

  “I got that part already,” I said. We was near the end of our walk, and I was near the end of my extra breath. No time for repeatin’ stuff.

  Time we got back to my home, we saw Cameron sitting in the living room crying, Nikki hugging him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “They’re thinking about canceling the talent show tonight,” she informed me. “Apparently, you’re not the only one who’s kind of upset about how things are going.”

  “Oh,” was all I could say. Whatever the Lord was putting on the other peoples’ hearts wasn’t my fault – that’s His doing.

  Nikki gently pushed Cameron off of her. “Cameron, go to our room. I need to talk to Mama B.”

  I turned to Libby. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Alright.”

  She left out while Nikki stormed off to the kitchen. I followed behind Nikki, ready to listen to what she had to say.

  Nikki put one hand on her hip and the other on the counter. Guess she called herself about to give me a piece of her mind. “Cameron and his friends have worked very hard for this talent show. And they’ve gone door to door getting support. They’ve sold a lot of tickets, too.”

  “Tickets?”

  She bucked her eyes out. “Yes. V.I.P. tickets. For people who want to sit on the front rows at the church.”

  “This the first time I ever heard of such!” Lord, have mercy!

  “Well…Cynthia told me you wouldn’t be happy about it. So I didn’t say anything.”

  I bobbed my head up and down. “She’s one hundred percent right that I’m not happy about it. And what’s the money goin’ to?”

  Nikki lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess the church.”

  Well, ain’t that something? Gon’ give up the front pews to the highest bidders. Wonder where they expect me and the rest of us who ain’t payin’ a red dime to get into our own church to sit. “Nikki, I hope they do cancel this talent show. This thing got trouble written all over it.”

  “How can you say that? It’s just a bunch of kids singing and performing in church.”

  I shook my head. “I wish y’all would stop saying ‘performing’ anyway. ‘Posed to be praisin’ at church. When they gon’ decide?”

  “Rev. Martin said he’d call us back and let us know for sure,” she said.

  “Well, far as I’m concerned, it’s canceled for me. I ain’t goin’ to the talent show even if they do have it.”

  Nikki’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, and let me explain why.” Even if I wasn’t going to speak my mind to the whole church, I needed to let my own granddaughter to understand. “Nikki, I believe the Dukes are sincere in their desire to help people. But they’re sacrificing the truth for what’s popular, and that’s not right. So, no. I won’t be coming to the talent show.”

  Suddenly, I heard a shuffling sound behind me. Cameron.

  “Mama B, you’re not coming to the show?”

  Real slow, I turned to face him. I knew he wouldn’t understand, which is exactly why I didn’t want it to come out like this. That ‘ole devil! Author of confusion.

  I walked toward him, put a hand on his shoulder. “Cameron, I love you and I’m so very proud of all the hard work you done with the stomp group. But I don’t believe God will be pleased by the dances Brandon done taught y’all. So, no. I won’t be there.”

  I tell you, that boy started boo-hooin’ like a two-year-old in need of a nap. Nearly broke my heart.

  And it didn’t get no easier once Cameron took his shower and got all dressed up for the show. Had on all black, like one of those—whatchama call it?—Ninja, some kind of turtles, I think.

  “Y
ou look mighty handsome, Cameron,” I told him, sitting on the couch in my lounging clothes.

  He wouldn’t even look up at me. “Thank you.”

  Nikki walked into the kitchen and peeked out the window. “Go on over to the church, Cameron. I see some cars already over there.”

  He skipped out the back door. Nikki watched him until he entered Mt. Zion, I presumed. Then she came back to the den and stood over me. “You sure you won’t be there?”

  “Nikki, I done already explained where I stand on this and why.” I walked back to the den, flipped on the television and let it play. Didn’t matter what was on the screen, my mindwasn’t studyin’ no show anyway ‘cause my spirit was doin’ flips inside my body.

  She followed me like a lost, hungry puppydog. “Are you for real? How can you do this to Cameron? Do you have any idea how much he adores you?”

  My face twitched as she went on.

  “Every night since we moved here, when he and I pray together, you are the first person he mentions to God. Especially last night, when he asked God to make you come to the talent show.”

  “Well, Cameron’s old enough for you to teach him that he has to pray the will of God, not just what he wants.”

  She tightened the corners of her mouth. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  Kept my focus on the screen ahead.

  She grabbed her purse. “Alrighty, then.”

  Now that they was both gone, I turned off the tube, headed back to my room. Tried to pray, but for some reason, felt like I couldn’t. So I paced through the house, from the front door to the back. Wasn’t eatin’ ‘cause of the fast.

  Wasn’t like me. Wasn’t like Him, either. What’s wrong, Lord?

  And clear as a bell, I heard one word in my Spirit: GO.

  I knew without the whole sentence He was talkin’ ‘bout the talent show. I stood flat-footed in my den and asked out loud, “Lord, why You want me to go there? You ain’t nowhere in that talent show.”

  Tell you what, my brain was doin’ all kinds of jumping jacks in my head, busy and tryin’ to figure out God’s plan. How was I supposed to go over to the church and show my support for something so ungodly? So worldly? When Albert and I donated the land for Mt. Zion, we did it to glorify God and make His name great. Now, these folk want to use it for a infomercial and to mock His name? God forbid!

  I paced through two more times before it hit me: my mind was no longer shakin’, by then my insides had settled down. And God wasn’t talkin’ to me no more.

  “Lord, do I really have to go?”

  I know it don’t make no sense to try and argue with God. He gon’ win. Even if I half to look foolish while He does whatever He does.

  And one more thing I know about God; He practice the Rule of One with me, too. He tell me something, He ain’t gon’ talk about it no more until I respond.

  I walked back to the kitchen, looked through the curtains. Lot of cars in the church parking lot. More than we done had in a while.

  Figured maybe I could sit on the back row. Come to think of it, I might not have a choice seein’ as I didn’t have a V.I.P. ticket.

  Do I really, really, really have to go?

  Why would He want me to go feast my eyes on such a hurtful sight? Had I been wrong this whole time about Rev. and Cynthia Dukes? Maybe they was onto something and I was the one off kilter.

  Maybe my pride was the problem.

  Whatever it was, I knew He would make it clear real soon.

  “Lord, I don’t know why, but at Your word, I’m going to that talent show.”

  Chapter 25

  Queesha, one of Henrietta’s grandbabies, met me at the door. Guess she was supposed to be some kind of usher. She always been a sweet girl, though. Met me with a smile. “Mama B, I heard you weren’t coming.”

  I clasped her hands into mine. “Well, I’m here, sweetie.”

  She bit her lower lip twice. “I’m sorry, but all the seats on the front rows are taken.”

  “Don’t mind me, Queesha. I’ll just take a seat near the back.”

  Queesha’s eyes apologized again. “You sure?”

  “Yes. I don’t know how long I’m gon’ be here.” Soon as the Lord give the word, I was gettin’ out of there, you hear?

  She pushed open the swinging doors to the sanctuary, and I had a flashback to the time when the church was overflowing with people – back before Peasner started growing and they paved the roads back into Dallas. Shoulders touching in the pews, choir standin’ full, extra chairs set up down the middle row. If nothing else, the Dukes’ knew how to fill a sanctuary with people.

  They was all singing a congregational hymn, getting things started. But as I scooted onto the last row, my stomach started bubbling. I hadn’t ate nothing but tea and soup for the past two days. Wasn’t sure if it was my body or my Spirit trying to tell me something this time. And with all the different personalities flowing through the building, I couldn’t be sure.

  When I sat down good, here come the first act. I couldn’t remember their names. Everybody just called them “the twins.” Two teenage girls from Geneva side of the family. They got up singing somethin’ with a church melody, ‘cept the words didn’t have nothin’ to do with the Lord. Sound like two people ending a love relationship. Said, “Come to the end of the road” and “it’s unnatural for me to be without you”—something like that. I couldn’t hardly tell.

  All the young folk got up, started swaying side to side, singing “Oooh!” when they got to the chorus part.

  Didn’t surprise me none. If Rev. Dukes don’t preach the word, he sure don’t mind folks not singin’ ‘bout the word.

  Whole thing made me uncomfortable. But it was more than just them girls and all the people. And I wasn’t sick.

  By the second act, I put my finger on it: I was nervous. Something was off. Wrong. Not like theological wrong. Wrong in the spirit realm.

  Brandon took the microphone again. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to bring out seven young men who are about to step for us tonight, and they are on fire!”

  I thanked God Cameron was up next. Soon as he finished, I was out.

  Brandon continued, “They call themselves the Lucky Seven Strikes. And they are—”

  While he was talking, Cynthia come up and shoved him aside. “Excuse me, Brandon, I just want to say something before you bring out the next group of performers.”

  “No problem.” He stepped aside.

  Cynthia stood herself in front of the podium. She fanned over the entire congregation with her eyes. Then she stopped on me for a second. Give me a smug grin for a second. “I am so glad to see everyone here tonight. The enemy tried to keep this event from happening.”

  “Yeah!” the people said.

  “Tried to stop the work of God from going forth!”

  Folks stood up. “Yeah!”

  “But I am here to tell you tonight, the work of God will go forth! No one can stop progress! You betta get with it or you will be left behind!”

  My eyes stung. I knew good and well Cynthia had said all that on account of me. Why she couldn’t just come up and talk to me one-on-one, I don’t know. But it sure hurt my feelings something awful, I tell ya, for her to blast me out like that in front of the whole church. Left up to me, I would have been gone that very second.

  She shoved the microphone back into Brandon’s hand.

  I shifted in my seat, pulled my purse in to my chest. Didn’t have long to wallow in my own self-pity, though. The music for Cameron’s dance come blaring through the sound system. And before they could even get started good, most the audience on their feet wavin’ they hands, hollerin’, “Pull out the forty-two! Pull out the forty-two! Pull out the forty-two!” Evidently, this one of they favorite songs.

  For all the pride-swallowin’ and lambastin’ I endured, I couldn’t even see my great-grandson perform. Too far in the back. And the folks on the rows in front of me had the nerve to stand up on the pews!

 
Wasn’t no use in me standing up no more, so I sat back down. And soon as I did, somebody—a tall man with long nappy strings—come walkin’ through the door. That nervous feeling went away. Now, anger. Like I just done seen my worst enemy walk through the door.

  I followed the young man with my eyes as he made his way down the main aisle toward where Cameron and them was performin’. He got ‘bout halfway up the way and I saw him reach into his pocket and take somethin’ dark out.

  Next thing I knew, everybody started hollerin’ even louder, like they just saw something spectacular added to the show. “Pull out the forty-two! Pull out the forty-two! Pull out the forty-two!” they chanted.

  And that’s exactly what the man did. Wasn’t until they heard the shot and saw the plaster fall from the ceiling they all realized his gun wasn’t fake, and this wasn’t part of the show.

  Chapter 26

  Everybody ducked down, started screaming. Folk on the back rows with me tried to crawl out the door.

  Some of ‘em got out before the gunman give an order into the microphone. “Nobody move! I didn’t come here to hurt anybody.”

  Girl across the aisle from me sliding her thumb across her cell phone screen. Wouldn’t be long before help got there, ‘cause these kids can text faster than they talk.

  “Nikki! Where you at?” the man yelled.

  Nikki! Oh my God, help us. This got to be J.T.

  Somebody crying.

  “I know you in here!” J.T. shouted. “And you betta have my money.”

  Another shot. The sound of glass breaking. Light bulbs in a ceiling fan must have taken that bullet.

  Somebody in the pews yelled out, “Man, we got about five Nikkis up in here.”

  J.T.’s angry voice boomed, “You want to be funny? Who said that?”

  Close as I was to the ground, I could feel J.T.’s footsteps coming down the aisle. “Alright, you want to hide? Guess I’ll have to shoot everybody in your section!”

  That whole side the church squealed.

  All of a sudden, I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt exactly why God had me come to the talent show.