by K. T. Richey
When she arrived at the church, she squeezed into the corner of the last pew in the back of the church. Sitting there she wouldn’t disturb the service when she had to go to the bathroom. Before she left the house she had taken one of the pain pills the doctor had given her after her surgery, and her eyes felt heavy. She prayed the service would be upbeat so she could move around and stay alert. The good in it all was the pill eased her pain.
The service started and, to her delight, it was an upbeat praise and worship service. The people praised like Kingdom Faith. They sang all the old devotion songs and rocked the house with them. Pastor Simpson and the other ministers entered the sanctuary and walked onto the pulpit. Pastor Simpson knelt down to pray and then sat down in one of the upholstered chairs. He leaned over and began talking with the other pastor. After praise and worship, the pastor stepped to the podium and kept the crowd hyped up with his words of exhortation.
“We’d like to thank all of our visitors for being with us to celebrate our ushers’ anniversary. If you are visiting with us for the first time, stand up and let us welcome you.”
Misha and a few others from True Life stood. Pastor Simpson stood and whispered into the pastor’s ear.
“We have another minister from True Life with us today. Minister Holloway, it’s good to have you visiting with us today. Come and join us in the pulpit.”
Misha knew this was the wrong day to sit in the pulpit. She had to be close to the bathroom without creating a distraction. She stood. “Thank you, Pastor. I may have to sneak out early. I don’t want to disturb the service. So, I think I will sit here,” she said politely.
The pastor continued to recognize other visiting ministers and invited them to the pulpit. She was the only minister who did not go to the pulpit when invited. She could feel the tightness that moved from her lower back to her front. She got up and went to the bathroom. Made it just in time. As she sat on the toilet, she could feel the flow like water streaming out of her body. She had no idea it would be this bad. She had never experienced anything like this before. What was wrong with her? Was she being punished for something? Did the doctor miss something during the surgery? Should she call her doctor? No, she would look like an idiot. She was told this would happen. Deciding it was best for her to go home, she walked out of the church and got into her car. She was no help to anyone and a danger on the road after taking the pill. Luckily she was not far from home. She could make it fine. Pastor Simpson would understand why she left.
Misha took Monday off and nursed her cramps and heavy flow. After calling Dr. Trinidad, she was assured it was normal bleeding after surgery. It didn’t feel normal. She was told if it did not let up in a couple of days or she felt sick, to come into the office. This satisfied her and she spent the day curled up on her sofa watching television in between trips to the bathroom. She prayed for her healing and that this passed quickly.
By Wednesday, she was back to normal. Her flow was light and she felt comfortable enough to go to Bible Study. When she arrived at the church a young man told her Pastor Simpson was looking for her. She walked to his office and peeped in the already open door. “Pastor, you wanted to see me?”
“Yeah, close the door.”
“What’s up?”
“What happened to you Sunday?” he said, rocking back and forth in his chair.
“What do you mean?” She didn’t want to tell him what was happening to her.
“You didn’t sit in the pulpit and you left early. What’s up with that?”
“I had an emergency and did not want to disrupt the service.”
“You embarrassed me when you did that. I told him to invite you up and you didn’t even bother to come.” He leaned back in his chair and sat right back up again. “You know it’s an insult not to go into the pulpit when you are invited. You insulted the pastor and embarrassed me. Bishop Moore told me, when I called him about your license, you would be an embarrassment to me.”
“You’ve been talking to Bishop about me?”
“Yeah, on more than one occasion. He calls here to check up on you. Now I have to tell him he was right. I should have listened to him. You’ve been here almost a year and still haven’t joined the church. I treated you like one of our own, like a member. If you’re going to stay here, you need to be taught how to act.”
“Pastor, I apologize. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” She could not believe what she was hearing. Apparently Bishop did not know how to let things go. He was checking up on her and continuing to talk about her. Why? Why was he trying to tarnish her reputation? One minute she was his daughter, the next she was the enemy. What was he trying to prove? She did not do anything to him. She certainly was not trying to destroy his ministry. He was trying to destroy hers.
“You did. Try not to do it again. If you don’t want to sit in the pulpit, don’t go anywhere with me. All my ministers sit in the pulpit to support me. I need to know you have my back. It’s all kinds of demons out there and I need someone praying for me when I preach.”
“I’ll remember that. Anything else?”
Pastor Simpson shook his head no. She exited the office. Another minister followed her into the ladies’ room down the hall. As she hugged Misha she began to pray loud, drawing the attention of others. Now, Misha was embarrassed. None of these people had her best interest at heart.
Leave.
She wanted so much to go. However, they were having a prayer meeting in the bathroom. People were screaming, crying, and falling out. Misha sat on the sofa in the powder room looking at people laying hands on each other, prophesying and crying.
Leave.
This time when she heard it, she picked up her purse and eased out the door and to her car.
When she arrived home, she began to talk to herself. “I was an embarrassment to him? He has been talking to Bishop Moore about me? Neither one of them taught me anything about the ministry. Bishop Moore only taught me how to put a sermon together and that was with some books I read. He really hasn’t taught me a thing. I didn’t know it was an insult to not go to the pulpit when invited. I didn’t know. And Pastor Simpson, he hasn’t taught me a thing. Nothing. The cool pastor, the hip pastor, all of this was a disguise for the same old thing—same thing, new people. Well, if he thinks he has gotten rid of me, he has another think coming.”
That night, as Misha slept, she heard the voice again. It’s time to leave that church. She woke up and sat up on her bed. She shook her head. Is this really the Lord or my fight or flight coming into play? She prayed, “God give me the strength to stay at True Life. I’m not going to let those Negroes run me out of that church. I’m a strong black woman. I’m a strong Christian woman.”
She lowered her body underneath her covers and quickly fell asleep. Her body rolled over the edge of the bed. It felt as if something pushed her out of the bed. She felt herself falling but couldn’t stop it.
I told you to leave that church and you will not sleep until you leave.
“God, I’m tired. I’ve got bus duty in the morning. I have to get some sleep.” She got up off the floor and crawled back into her bed. She was wide-awake. Nothing she did helped her get back to sleep. She got up and took one of the pain pills because she knew it would make her sleepy. She sat up and watched the clock until she could no longer see the numbers.
Her sleep was not a peaceful one. She was tormented by her vivid dreams.
I told you to leave that church.
Feeling the lightheaded effect of the medication, she sat on the edge of the bed. She looked at the clock. She had only been asleep for thirty minutes. She curled up on her pillow and dozed back off to sleep when she thought she felt the bed shake. She sat up again and turned on the light. The pill was beginning to make her body shake. Why was her body fighting sleep?
She walked around and watched a little television. She pressed the button on the remote until she stopped on Christian television. Shante Patrick was talking about how difficult it was for her to
leave her church and start a new ministry with her husband. She testified about her walking in disobedience because she didn’t want the people to feel they ran her out of the church. Then she realized she was out of order. Misha somehow knew this message was for her. She eased down the side of her bed and fell on her knees and began to repent. “God, tell me, what you want me to do?” She continued to pray until she fell asleep.
The next morning Misha woke up on the floor beside her bed. She felt extremely tired and nervous. She looked at the clock. It was 7:32. “Oh no, I’m late.” Adrenaline flowed as she hurriedly got dressed and ran for the door to go to work. She called the school to tell them she was running late and finally made it before first period was over.
When she arrived in her class, Roger was sitting at her desk, looking at some papers. “Mr. Williams, what are you doing here?” She stopped in her tracks.
“The principal asked me if I could sit in with your class until you arrived.” He set the stack of papers in his hand on her desk.
“Thank you for your help. I’m just running late this morning. Any problems?” She casually walked into the room.
“No. They’re a great group of kids.” Some of the students laughed. “I’ve been keeping them entertained. I didn’t see a lesson plan for today on your desk. I would have started their work for you.”
“I have it with me. Thanks. I can handle it now.” She stared at Roger, waiting for him to move from her desk.
“I’m sorry. I guess you need your desk.” Roger stood and walked to the door. “Bye, guys,” he said, waving to the class.
“Bye, Mr. Williams,” they all sang at once, sounding like an elementary school class.
She began to teach her class when one of the students raised his hand. “Yes, Daniel.”
“Mimi, can I go to the bathroom?” The other students in the class laughed.
Misha was shocked to hear him call her Mimi. Only one person called her Mimi—Roger. What did he say to her students? She stood stoic, trying not to show her anger. She placed her hand on her hip and asked, “Daniel, who told you to call me that?”
“Mr. Williams, he said you would understand the joke.” The other students continued laughing.
“What else did Mr. Williams tell you?”
“He said y’all went to college together and you used to party a lot.”
“What was it like going to clubs every night?” another student asked. The class seemed to think it was even funnier. Misha could feel there was something more. He was only in her class about thirty minutes. What else could he have said about her?
“Class, that was a long time ago. We all make mistakes. Besides, I didn’t go to clubs every night. If I did, I wouldn’t have graduated and become your teacher and be able to give you a test tomorrow.”
“Aw, Ms. Holloway,” the class chimed.
“Just kidding.” Misha laughed. “You guys do have a test next week. So I want you to study hard. The Mimi joke you don’t understand. So don’t call me that again. You can call me Ms. Holloway. That will be enough.”
As the class was ending and the students were changing classes, one of the young ladies walked up to her and told her Roger told them she used to like him and stalked him when they were in college. He said they called her Mimi the Stalker in college. Misha tried to hold back her fury. Her body tensed listening to the student’s explanation of their behavior. During her planning period she was going to pay Roger a visit. She wanted to do it then but her other class was about to start. Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, she began her class.
“Mimi the Stalker, Roger?” Misha said as she slammed the door to Roger’s office. “How could you say that to my students about me? You told them I went to clubs every night.”
“Mimi, it was a joke. They took it out of context.” Roger leaned back in his chair, smiling the entire time.
“You got my students calling me Mimi the Stalker. What does that say to you, if you heard it about someone else?”
“I’ll straighten it out. It was only a joke.” There was a knock at the door. It was Mr. Davis. He walked into the office.
“Is everything all right here?” he said, looking at both of them.
“Sure, Mr. Davis. Everything’s copasetic.” Roger smiled. Misha turned her back on Mr. Davis—her arms folded around her body. She did not want him to see the rage in her eyes.
“I was told there was yelling coming out of this office. Is everything fine, Ms. Holloway?”
Misha took a deep breath and slowly turned around to face him, forcing a smile on her face. “Sure, Mr. Davis. We were only talking loud about a joke.” She glanced at Roger, who was still smiling as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
“Well, keep it down. You know how everybody’s all jittery about little things since the Columbine shooting. I’ll see you two later.” He walked out of the office and Misha closed the door again.
“Roger, I would appreciate it if you keep our—no, my—private life out of the school,” she said, lowering her voice.
“It was a joke. Okay, okay. I won’t say anything else,” he said, waving his arms in the air.
Misha walked out of the office and started down the hallway when Mr. Davis stopped her. “What was that all about?”
“It was nothing. He played a joke on me. That’s all. It’s all good.”
“Okay. But if you have any problems, let me know.”
“I will. I better eat lunch before my next class starts.” Misha watched as Mr. Davis walked away and into the counselors’ office. She hoped he wasn’t going to talk with Roger. Somehow she knew he was. She asked God to get Roger out of her school. He was nothing but trouble. She could finally see the real Roger and wondered how she could have gotten mixed up with him in the first place.
At the end of the day, Judy walked up to her as she was getting into her car. “Hey, Misha. What is this Mimi the Stalker thing I’ve been hearing about you all day?”
“Boy, news travels fast. Roger sat in my class until I got here this morning and told my students I used to stalk him when we were at Howard. He told my students to call me Mimi the Stalker.”
“That . . .” She stopped herself before saying how she really felt. She had not liked Roger since he came to the school. “Did you tell Mr. Davis?” Her mouth twisted into a frown.
“Our wonderful principal walked in on us when I went to Roger’s office to confront him. Roger played it off like he was so innocent. He made me look like a fool today. I’m going to have to pray him out of here.”
“I’ll be praying with you. He’s got some nerve. Does he know how hard it is to win the students’ respect? I don’t know what you saw in him. He tells some of the wildest stories. It’s hard to believe somebody let him pastor their church.”
“Hey, Mimi,” another teacher called to Misha as she walked past her car.
“Hey, girl, that’s an old joke. You can call me Misha.” Misha laughed it off and continued her conversation with Judy. “See what I mean? Why did I ever fool with that man?”
“The sex was probably good.”
“I never had sex with Roger.”
“You two never did it? Never?” Judy’s eyes stretched, surprised to hear her say that.
“I’m not saying I haven’t but not with Roger. He was a Christian when we met and he said he was celibate.”
“Never?”
“Get over it, Judy. We never did and I’m glad. Just think what would have happened if I got pregnant by somebody like him. Look, I would love to stand around and bash Roger all day. But I have to go.”
“Not one time in all those years?”
“Love you but I really have to go.” She hugged Judy and slipped into her car. Her cell phone chimed. She looked at the caller ID. It was Roger. She hesitated, then answered it so she could really tell him off as she left school property.
“What do you want now, Roger?”
“Mimi, I’m really sorry. It was bad judgment. I shouldn’t h
ave told your students anything about you.”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have. Now everybody, including teachers, is calling me Mimi the Stalker. It wasn’t funny.”
“It’ll die down in a few days. You have any plans for dinner?”
He had some nerve asking her out to dinner. She would not be seen anywhere with him. “Yeah, I have plans.”
“Oh. Maybe another time.”
“Maybe.”
Why would he think she could just forget what just happened and go out to eat with him? She wished she still used profanity. It was moments like this that cussing him out the old-fashioned way would have made her feel a lot better. But she couldn’t do that. She wasn’t going to allow him to bring out the worst in her.
She ruminated over it so much it became funny to her. She laughed until she got home. He could not have possibly believed she would even have a desire to be with him. She tried hard to think what she saw in him but could not think of a thing now. Everything she believed him to be, he wasn’t. She never really knew him. Now, she did not want to know him. She did not want to be near him. She had to pray him away from her. She needed to be completely free from him.
Chapter 12
Misha sat on the edge of her bed, contemplating what she was going to do. It was Sunday. She knew God wanted her to leave True Life but she didn’t have anywhere else to go. She prayed for God to guide her footsteps. She didn’t want to go to her grandmother’s church. It was beginning to look like it was the place she ran to every time she left or got put out of a church. She got dressed and asked the Lord for direction. She got into her car, not really knowing where she was going. She figured she could drive through the city until God directed her to a church, finally ending at the Rock of Life.
