Sister Betty Says I Do

by Pat G'Orge-Walker

  He then hung his head at that and made a wheezing sound. “Well, this is new,” he said. “I don’t usually start wheezing in front of folks. I thought I had it more under control.”

  “Can I get you a glass of water?” Leotis asked.

  “No,” Freddie said harshly. “Just let me finish saying what I got to say.”

  Leotis kept quiet, not moving away or trying to find a seat. He stood, ready to take whatever Freddie would put upon him. And Freddie did just that. He went on to complain about how Sister Betty had dismissed the obvious tired state he was in, that she’d begun immediately telling him about her concerns.

  “She didn’t talk to me,” Freddie told him. “All she did was talk at me. She dove right in and started complaining about the way them gals, Sharvon and Ima, have been acting. She even had the nerve to mention how she’d heard that I’d missed a few of the prison ministry visits, and to say that I never told her.” Freddie’s voice regained its strength as he blurted, “Tell her what and when? Somebody had to tell her about me missing some prison ministry. That is as much a part of me as she was supposed to be! And she didn’t even bother to insist on an explanation. Do you believe that? She didn’t care enough to ask.”

  Leotis knew better than to respond, and he didn’t.

  “And then there’s you and your part in this mess.”

  Leotis knew it would come out somehow; at that moment he’d have settled for a calmer time.

  Freddie, even in his temporary weakened state, didn’t hold back his anger toward Leotis. He angrily rebuked him. “A grown man that can’t handle his own affairs felt quite comfortable in putting your burden on a woman who’s been like a mother to you.”

  And because Leotis had indeed thrown himself in the middle of Sister Betty and Freddie’s lives with such nonsense, he realized, there was now a price to pay.

  Leotis walked over toward his living room window and looked at Sister Betty’s house. Only a few yards separated his and Sister Betty’s homes. Now he wondered if keeping his promise to Freddie would forge a separation between him and the woman Sister Betty, whom he loved like a mother, a separation that couldn’t be measured or forgave.

  He pressed his face to the window both for the coolness of the windowpane and a glance at a star or two that might appear in the night sky. Just as he started to turn away from the window, the headlights of a car entering Sister Betty’s driveway caught his attention. The floodlight on the side of the house came on, triggered by someone exiting the car. It was Sharvon, and she was alone, and that was when it occurred to him that there were no lights on inside Sister Betty’s home. He looked at his watch and wondered aloud, “It’s not even eleven o’clock. Why is she not with Sharvon if there’s no lights on inside? What if she’s sick, too?”

  With fear of the unknown urging him, he started for his front door. And that was when arrows of condemnation pierced his spirit. He’d almost put his hand on the doorknob when his promise to Freddie rushed into his mind. He took a step back. He’d now have to keep Freddie’s serious and life-threatening illness a secret from Sister Betty.

  He was more certain now than before that Sharvon’s message on his answering machine had been a cry for help for Sister Betty. And after all he’d put them through, there was nothing he could do. The promise he’d made to Freddie had made him a prisoner to and a participant in a lie.

  He pressed his back against the door. He was unable to move, because he knew that one of the biggest lies was the one he’d told himself, and it was about him being able to control the situation with Ima and Sharvon without ultimately damaging his ministry or his church.

  He ran his fingers through his hair as a distraction. It wouldn’t work, because the truth was that there were many women in and outside of the seminary and the church that had come on to him. But he’d always found a reason or two not to entertain the idea of pursuing any relationship, and none of the reasons had anything to do with how the women looked or their ages. That was one truth he could claim. His truth was rooted in his belief that he’d been set aside to do God’s work, and though it wasn’t so for many other preachers, for him, marriage or a relationship would’ve been outside of God’s assignment.

  And then Sharvon had entered the picture, and he’d become comfortable with going to a dinner or a movie or just chatting, without needing to take it further. He’d loved the idea that she was as dedicated to her career as he was to his ministry.

  And now, as he pressed his back against the door, he could see Ima’s long legs, unblemished, perfectly shaped, and honey complexioned. He felt a quickening in his manhood, and at that moment he was certain that, as Sister Betty had forewarned, Satan had sent Ima to disrupt him and awaken his desires. He felt carnality unlike anything he’d felt in years, the lustful feelings he’d kept under control through years of prayer and his dedication to what he believed was God’s will that he remain celibate. Yes, he’d lied, and it was a lie seeded in his needs as a man, and yet one that would certainly doom his ministry if he didn’t do something about it.

  Chapter 11

  It’d been two days since Sister Betty and Freddie had argued. Sister Betty had sulked around the house, pretending she was fine. Every time Sharvon approached the subject of marriage, Sister Betty would end the conversation quickly. On one occasion she said, “He and I are both too settled in our ways. God is probably trying to show us that we should probably forget about marriage.” But in her heart Sister Betty knew better. God had never used the word probably in anything He’d ever communicated. She’d never seen the word probably written in the Bible, either.

  “So are you telling me that it’s not a problem if the two of you end things? You’ll just continue attending the same church, having the same friends, giving each other a hello and a good-bye every now and again?”

  “Leave it alone, Sharvon,” Sister Betty insisted.

  But today was the third day since the argument, and on this third day Sister Betty’s spirit still remained wounded. Her spirit had sunk so low, it felt as though she trampled on her heart with every step she took. She rose and, as was her habit, got down on her knees to chat with God before starting her day.

  She told God this humid morning what she had yesterday and the day before: about how unhappy she was. “Why did you let me glimpse happiness if you weren’t gonna let me keep it?” She also went on to let God know that she was repentant for getting off track. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited the sick or helped out at the church’s food bank,” she whispered. But she still needed to say what she would always start to tell God but then would stop.

  This morning she finally confessed her willingness to interfere in Leotis’s affairs and declared that she would’ve done so even if he’d not come to her. “Lord, I just don’t like Ima. I never have,” she admitted. “How could I pray to you with such ill feelings in my heart? Did you decide to teach me a lesson? Did I sidestep what you might’ve been trying to do with Ima where Leotis was concerned? Is that why he hasn’t come by to see about me since Sharvon left him that message? Lord, I’ve messed up badly.” She kept itemizing all her shortcomings, as though God hadn’t created her or didn’t know her.

  By the time she finished praying, her knees had stiffened, yet she refused to budge from the spot beside her bed until she felt God would let her back into His good graces. “Father God, I know you say we have new mercies and grace daily, but, Lord, I need a little more. I need your guidance. I’m not giving another bit of advice, making a move toward Freddie or Leotis, or interfering with anyone’s business unless I hear it from you. And I’ve got to know that it’s you. I’m gonna fast because I wanna feel it deep down in my . . . sha-na-na,” she prayed, whispering in tongues.

  While Sister Betty spent time at home, on her knees, in Pelzer, Leotis was miles away. He had pulled up to the front parking area of Anderson General Hospital. He carried inside with him a small carry-on suitcase with a change of clothes for Freddie.

  The other night
, after Leotis discovered Freddie’s secret about having cancer, the situation had taken a turn for the worse. Since that night, every time he thought about it, Leotis had no doubt that God was involved.

  It’d started almost immediately after he watched Sharvon arrive home late without Sister Betty in tow. It’d bothered him that he wasn’t able to go see about Sister Betty without betraying his word to Freddie, and he’d become just as concerned about leaving Freddie alone. It’d begun to rain that night, and on other occasions the patter of the rain would’ve calmed him, even helped him to sleep. Not that night. He had remained fully awake and had gotten out of his bed.

  At first, he’d thought about walking around the corner to Freddie’s home, but it was raining. He decided it made more sense to drive the short distance. After he arrived there, it took a lot of pounding on the door, peeking through Freddie’s windows, and discovering him lying on the floor before Leotis broke the glass to the side door and entered. At first there was no response from Freddie, and he had no choice but to call an ambulance.

  Since the night of Freddie’s admission to the hospital, Leotis had already had the glass replaced in the door. He’d also taken some of Freddie’s clothes back to his own house in case Freddie should need them. He’d done it all before he went to the hospital yesterday to see about Freddie. During that visit, he’d learned that Freddie would be discharged today.

  Leotis stepped off the second-floor elevator. A sudden whiff of the sterile alcohol smell almost overpowered him. I will never get used to this odor, he thought. He shifted the small suitcase from one hand to the other before heading directly for the nurses’ station. A young, small-framed nurse sat behind the counter, chatting with another nurse, who appeared a bit older. The freckles on her smooth brown skin seemed to widen when she looked in his direction and smiled. Leotis met her smile with one of his own as soon as he approached.

  “Hello. I’m back again,” he announced. He hoped he looked and acted more rested than he had the day before. He set the suitcase down beside him. “Is the unwilling patient ready?” He put emphasis on the word unwilling to show that he appreciated her attending to such a difficult and hard-to-please old man. Freddie’s behavior was quite contrary when they admitted him. It’d taken a threat to bring the prayer team to the hospital to get him to do as the doctor had suggested.

  “Yes, Pastor,” she answered abruptly. Her smile then faded like melting peanut butter. “Thank God he is ready.”

  “Is there something wrong?” Leotis placed his free hand under his chin, waiting for an answer. He was very surprised by her manner. Yesterday they’d stood together, going over the medical chart outside of Freddie’s room. She’d mentioned how she was happy that a single and obviously alone man like Freddie had him on record as his pastor and had also given written permission for the hospital to discuss his care with him. In between giving him details, this same nurse had seemed radiant, telling him that she’d heard him preach when the choir from her home church, Mount Kneel Down, attended an anniversary service.

  “You’d better believe there’s something wrong.” She darted her large caramel-brown eyes toward Freddie’s room. “And you got here not a moment too soon.”

  Leotis’s blinking eyes then followed hers, landing on the sight of Bea. Bea stood looming in Freddie’s hospital room doorway. She had both hands on her wide hips, a sneer on her face, and her legs were spread wide in defiance.

  Earlier, Sasha and Bea had gone to Anderson General Hospital to see one of their not-too-close friends and neighbors, the former beauty queen and congresswoman Cheyenne Bigelow. The acid-tongued senior, who never took back anything she said, a result of her time as a politician, was a longtime friend of Sister Betty’s. Although she lived in the same seniors’ complex as Bea and Sasha, she’d never wanted anything to do with either them or their insane bickering. Because she was presently in the hospital and was confined to a bed, for the moment, she hadn’t changed her mind.

  Bea and Sasha had barely gotten in her hospital room when she came to from taking a nap. Even in her senior years, Cheyenne still turned heads with her good looks and long white hair pulled back into a ponytail that hung to her waist. And although Bea and Sasha had told her they just wanted to check up on her, they’d lied. They were there just to see how bad she looked without access to her beauty aids. Cheyenne’s good looks and closeness to Sister Betty had always irked Bea and Sasha. The plan was that Bea would take a quick picture with the cell phone she had recently bought and didn’t know how to use.

  “We’ll just take the cell phone to the drugstore and get them to develop the pictures,” was Sasha’s contribution to the dumb idea.

  Things hadn’t gone as planned with their visit. Cheyenne had threatened to heal quickly and then kill them. They’d been ready to leave, but then they’d discovered Freddie was there, too. Sasha had become enraged, thinking he wasn’t sick but was once again trying to avoid getting married. She’d left Bea there to interrogate Freddie while she went to terrorize Sister Betty.

  “Hope you’re prayed up,” the nurse remarked. “That’s an extra-strength demon standing over there.” The nurse walked away, shaking her head.

  Leotis hung his head. He remained in that position for a moment, no one knowing whether he was calling on God or cursing the Devil.

  But at the same time, things weren’t going much better for Sharvon back in Pelzer.

  Sharvon stood with one earring in her hand and the other dangling from one ear. She had a folded magazine in her hand as she stood on Sister Betty’s front porch. She waved it like she was swatting at an annoying fly. The only annoying thing standing on the steps was Sasha, who, despite Sharvon’s warning for her to leave, insisted upon seeing Sister Betty.

  Sasha kept hopping up and down on the steps, sidestepping Sharvon’s swats with the magazine. “You listen up, Sharvon,” Sasha warned. “I got something to discuss with Sister Betty. It’s important.”

  “She doesn’t want company, Mother Pray Onn. She’s trying to rest.”

  “She can rest after we see to it that she gets married,” Sasha told her.

  Once the word marriage flew out of Sasha’s mouth, Sharvon’s aim became more direct. She almost decapitated Sasha’s bun with one of her swats. Unless Sasha shot her with a gun, she wasn’t getting inside to see Sister Betty.

  At the same time Sharvon was trying to remove one pesky Sasha, back at the hospital, Leotis was trying to remove another pest, Bea.

  In just a few steps she made it to where he’d planted his feet on the hospital hall floor. He knew she was beyond angry when she didn’t try to straighten the lopsided blond Afro wig she wore. She looked like the underside of an overripe, burnt ear of corn.

  “Why I got to find out that one of our trustees is in the hospital by mistake?” Bea didn’t care that she was addressing her pastor. She pushed out her chest, as though it gave her more authority or straightened her spine.

  Leotis sidestepped Bea’s question and threw out one of his. “What are you doing in Trustee Noel’s room?” He folded his arms, nearly brushing against Bea’s ample bosom, which she’d not moved out of the way.

  Bea finally relented and told Leotis that she and Sasha had arrived earlier to pay Cheyenne Bigelow a visit. “Cheyenne wasn’t up to company,” Bea said, giving Leotis her revised version. “Me and Sasha was about to leave”—she pointed toward the trustee’s hospital room—“and that’s when we happened to see Trustee Noel sitting on the edge of that bed in there.”

  “So where is Mother Pray Onn?” Leotis looked past Bea in case he’d missed Sasha. “I don’t see her.”

  Bea sighed and placed her hands on her hips before leaning in. “That’s because she ain’t here.”

  “Where is she?” Leotis then looked down the hallway and back at the nurses’ station to see if she was there. The only person he saw was the nurse he’d just spoken with who then sucked her teeth and looked away. “What is it that you’re not telling me, Mother Bl
ister?”

  “The only thing I haven’t told you is that Trustee Noel done locked his self in the bathroom and that Sasha left to take the Access-a-Ride back to Pelzer.”

  “Back to Pelzer?”

  “Yep,” Bea said, smiling. “She’s gone back to see if she can cheer up Sister Betty. We know she must be feeling something terrible. Here it is yet again that the man she’s supposed to marry done gone and supposedly got himself sick.”

  At the mention of Sister Betty’s name, Leotis felt his jaw tighten and a headache coming on.

  Bea took a step back and looked her pastor up and down before she took a deep breath. “Are you okay, Reverend Tom? You look like they need to put you in one of these hospital rooms. Maybe I need to get you a doctor.”

  “Is that you, Reverend Tom?” Freddie called out from inside his room. His voice sounded strong, almost Herculean, compared to the other night. “Is that wildebeest, Bea, gone?”

  Before Leotis could answer, Freddie came out of his room dressed in nothing but his hospital gown, which he wore open in the back, exposing his yellowed and wrinkled butt cheeks. Once he saw Bea, he fled back inside his room.

  “Who are you calling a wildebeest?” Bea shot back. She swung her body around, and before Leotis could holler, “Mother, don’t,” Bea raced back inside Freddie’s room.

  Freddie hadn’t gone back inside his room because he was afraid of Bea. He’d gone back inside to find a weapon. “I don’t care if they keep me another week,” Freddie yelled. “I warned her what I’d do if she tried messing in my affairs again.”

  Just as Bea rushed inside his room, she ran straight into Freddie, who was holding a half-empty bedpan. They both fell to the floor. Each time Freddie tried to get up off the floor, he’d fall back into the puddle of urine. Bea’s wig had fallen off, and she began screaming as the urine smell rushed into her nostrils.