Lady Arykah Reigns

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols

  “Oh oh oh,” Lance said. He was lying on the bed in his usual position, with his arms stretched behind his head. He had been waiting for Arykah to start her weekly Sunday morning fashion show. He placed his right hand on his chest. “Be still, my heart.”

  Arykah turned from Lance and strutted to their bedroom door so that he could get a full view of her entire outfit.

  He sat up on the bed. “Beautiful,” he said. “Now take it off.”

  “What?”

  “Take off the dress but leave the heels on and come to bed.”

  Arykah chuckled. Lance had that look in his eye. “What?” she asked him again.

  He stood from the bed, walked over to Arykah, raised the dress over her head, and let it drop to the floor. She stood naked with just the gladiator platform stilettos on.

  “Get in the bed,” he ordered.

  Arykah obeyed her husband and walked past him to their California king-sized bed. When Lance saw Arykah’s backside jiggle as she moved, her nickname escaped from his lips. “Cheeks,” he moaned.

  Arykah lay down. Lance came to the foot of the bed and lifted her left leg high in the air. He ran his tongue from the tip of the stiletto heel, to the metallic and diamond strap, all the way up to Arykah’s knee, where the strap ended. Lance had licked the entire length of the stiletto.

  Arykah looked down at her husband’s face. The passion in his eyes heated her inner core. She was ready to explode. “Why did you stop the tongue action? Come on up a little higher,” she said seductively.

  He was breathing heavy. “You ready?”

  The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering. “Let’s go.”

  The next move Lance made caused Arykah’s back to arch. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. “Oh, Bishop,” she moaned.

  Arykah rushed into her office, at the church, at ten fifteen a.m. She saw Team Arykah sitting around her desk. “I’m so sorry that I’m late.”

  “Oooooooh,” Chelsea shrieked when she saw Arykah’s gladiator metallic gold and diamond platform stilettos. “You are doing the most, Lady Arykah.”

  “Too freakin’ fierce,” Monique added. She hoped and prayed that Arykah bought her a pair.

  “Okaaaay,” Darlita said. “You’re about to get jacked for real. Those are too sharp.”

  Arykah chuckled and sat down behind her desk with Diva Chanel in the crease of her arm.

  “Girl, we didn’t think you and the bishop were gonna make it on time,” Monique said.

  “Service starts in fifteen minutes,” Myrtle fussed. “Minister Weeks is going crazy.”

  “Why isn’t your cell phone on?” Chelsea asked Arykah. “We were all calling you.”

  “Minister Weeks said that all of his calls had gone straight to the bishop’s voice mail,” Darlita added.

  Arykah looked at Gladys. “Your turn.”

  Gladys chuckled. “I think they pretty much covered it all.”

  Arykah set Diva Chanel down on the floor and looked at her team. “I already apologized for being late. I know we meet in here every Sunday for girl chat, but I got distracted this morning.”

  “Distracted by what?” Myrtle asked her.

  Arykah looked at Myrtle. “My husband,” she answered matter-of-factly.

  Gladys and Chelsea gasped.

  “Well, all right, now,” Darlita said smiling.

  Monique eyed Arykah shamefully. “Really, First Lady? On a Sunday morning?”

  “Especially on a Sunday morning,” she replied rotating her neck.

  Myrtle shook her head from side to side. “Ump ump ump,” she mumbled. “You just fast.”

  Gladys laughed. “I know what that means, Mother Myrtle. When I was growing up, girls were called ‘fast’ when they were chasing boys.”

  “Just fast,” Myrtle said eyeing Arykah.

  “First of all,” Arykah started, “I don’t do no chasing.” She looked at Myrtle specifically and said, “I gets chased.” She raised her eyebrows. “Okay?”

  “Keep it up, hear?” Myrtle warned Arykah. “I still got that switch.”

  Lance knocked on Arykah’s door, then opened it and poked his head inside. “Morning,” he greeted the team.

  All the ladies gave Lance a sheepish grin. No one responded to him verbally.

  “It’s time to head down to the sanctuary,” he said to Arykah.

  She stood. “Come on, Diva Chanel.”

  Diva Chanel came to Arykah’s feet. Arykah scooped her up and put her in the tangerine leather bucket-shaped Dooney & Bourke bag she carried. “Y’all coming?” Arykah asked her team when she noticed that none of them were preparing to go down to the sanctuary.

  “Yeah, we’ll be down soon,” Monique answered. “We’re gonna stay behind and talk about you.”

  Praise and worship was in full effect, and the congregation was on their feet when Lance and Arykah appeared at the doors to the sanctuary.

  “Please receive Bishop Lance and Lady Arykah Howell,” the praise and worship leader announced.

  With his hand pressed against the small of Arykah’s back, Lance escorted her to the front pew. Literally, every eye, belonging to every female, was drawn to Arykah’s feet and legs as she walked down the center aisle.

  “Look at those heels . . . Wow . . . Beautiful shoes . . . You see her feet?”

  When they arrived at the front pew, Lance kissed Arykah’s left cheek, as he did every Sunday morning before entering the pulpit. Arykah set her bag on the pew, pulled Diva Chanel out, and held her in the crease of her arm. Diva Chanel’s satin orange dress and metallic hair bows matched Arykah’s outfit perfectly.

  The beat of the drums caused Arykah’s eyes to look at the musicians. She saw Stephanie’s husband, Kenneth, banging wooden sticks on the drums. Arykah looked at the adult choir singing and saw Stacy in the alto section with her eyes closed and hands lifted in the air. Are they serious?

  It disgusted Arykah that the two of them could come to church and get in God’s face like they weren’t living foul. Arykah looked around the sanctuary for Stephanie and saw her standing three pews behind the deacons. Though Stephanie participated in praise and worship, Arykah saw the pain and hurt on her face. She knew it pained Stephanie to have to stare in the faces of her sister and husband, knowing that they were sleeping together.

  Arykah’s eyes were drawn to Saminta Williams who stood one row behind Stephanie. She was scowling at Arykah. She felt the heat of Saminta’s eyes burning on her skin.

  Myrtle, Darlita, Monique, Gladys, and Chelsea appeared and sat next to Arykah.

  Praise and worship ended, and Lance took to the podium. “You may be seated,” he said to the congregation.

  When she sat down on the pew, Arykah looked at Saminta again. Arykah wasn’t exaggerating about the look this woman was giving her. Saminta looked at her with anger in her eyes. Arykah leaned into Myrtle who sat next to her. “Look three rows behind the deacons toward the middle and tell me if Saminta Williams is staring at me.”

  Myrtle looked for Saminta and found her. She leaned into Arykah. “Yep. She doesn’t look happy. What’s her problem?”

  Arykah shrugged her shoulders. “Beats me.” She set Diva Chanel on the pew between herself and Myrtle and listened to what Lance was saying.

  “Church,” he addressed, “I don’t feel a hoop or a holla in my spirit this morning. Today, I’m gonna talk about traditions.”

  Arykah sat straight up. Her back came away from the pew.

  “Here we go,” Myrtle said remembering Arykah’s and Lance’s conversation that she overheard on Friday.

  “All right, Bishop,” a few members said.

  “Come on and talk about it,” others encouraged him.

  “The Merriam-Webster Dictionary,” Lance started, then paused, “defines the word tradition as ‘a way of thinking, behaving, or doing something that has been used by the people in a particular group, family, society, etc., for a long time.’”

  “Teach this morning, Bishop,” Myrtle
said out loud.

  Lance looked down and read his notes, then looked out at the people again. “And it further describes the word tradition as ‘an inherited, established, or customary pattern of thought, action, or behavior as a religious practice or a social custom. The handing down of information by word of mouth or by example from one generation to another without written instruction.’”

  “All right, all right,” the people said.

  “Tradition,” Lance said. “Tradition, tradition. Why do we follow tradition? Who created them and why?”

  “That’s what I wanna know,” Arykah mumbled.

  “It’s a tradition in this church that if a man or woman has been divorced, they can’t be remarried in the sanctuary. It’s a tradition in this church that an unwed pregnant female must come before the church, confess her sin, and ask for forgiveness. And if, by chance, she’s active in the church, she must be pulled, or as Mother Myrtle says, ‘sat down.’”

  The people mumbled. “Come on, Bishop. You’re going somewhere. Teach.”

  “It’s a tradition in this church that babies of unwed parents can’t be baptized, christened, or dedicated to God in the sanctuary.”

  “Welllll,” someone sang.

  Lance looked at the audience. “I recently had a discussion with my wife about traditions. She and I differ in our opinions on traditions. I was born and raised in the Church of God in Christ where traditions rule the church. Lady Arykah was brought up in the Baptist faith where traditions are almost unheard of.”

  “Come on, Bishop,” Arykah said.

  “In speaking with my wife about traditions, she challenged me to research some of them and find out who started them, and why they were started. One of the traditions Lady Arykah and I discussed was babies being dedicated in the sanctuary. I can tell it struck a nerve with my wife because her bottom lip was trembling. Her lips tremble when I leave dirty dishes in the sink instead of loading them into the dishwasher.”

  The congregation laughed, and so did Arykah.

  “Her lips tremble,” Lance continued, “when I’m the last to rise and don’t make the bed.”

  More laughter came from the people.

  “And her lips really trembled when she came home and found that I had eaten the last slice of the lemon pound cake that she was saving for the Lifetime movie.”

  Arykah laughed out loud. “You’re right about that.”

  “So when I saw her lips tremble when we were discussing traditions, I knew I needed to find out why Freedom Temple follows them. And in doing so, I didn’t come across one reason why babies from unwed parents can’t be dedicated in the sanctuary.”

  “Preach, Bishop,” someone said.

  “It took my beautiful, lip-trembling wife to show me that alllll babies are pure, no matter how they were conceived.”

  “Come on now,” Gladys yelled out.

  “Who started that tradition?” Lance asked the people. “Was it God?”

  The congregation mumbled.

  “Was it Moses?” Lance asked. “Hmm?”

  Darlita rocked back and forth. “Say that, say that.”

  “It’s not written in Freedom Temple’s by-laws. It’s not there,” Lance said. “I checked. Who says that divorcees can’t remarry at this altar? Who says that women must humiliate themselves and confess their unwed pregnancies to the church?” Lance shrugged his shoulders. “Who?”

  He looked at his flock. “Was it you, Deacon Marshall?”

  Deacon Marshall shook his head from side to side. “Nah, sa. It wadden me.”

  Lance looked at the musicians. “Was it you, Brother Adonis, who said that folks who sin can’t work in the church?”

  “No, sir,” Adonis answered.

  “Can anybody tell me why we follow such foolishness?”

  Half of the congregation stood to their feet. “You better preach.”

  “Had I followed tradition . . .” Lance started. He looked at Arykah. “I would’ve missed out on God’s greatest blessing that He had for me.”

  Darlita stood from the pew and shrieked. “Preeeaach.”

  “Was it you, Mother Myrtle, that said folks couldn’t marry outside the C.O.G.I.C.?”

  Myrtle waved her hand at Lance. “Boy, gon somewhere. You know I ain’t said no mess like that.”

  Lance laughed, and so did everyone else within earshot of Myrtle.

  Arykah placed Diva Chanel in the crease of her arm and stood.

  Lance pulled the microphone from its holder and walked to the edge of the pulpit. “As pastor of this church, I declare that every baby will be dedicated in the sanctuary.”

  “Come on, Bishop . . . Say that,” the people responded.

  “This sanctuary welcomes all couples who want to be married. This is a new day at Freedom Temple, and I know I got some old schoolers in here that don’t agree with me. And I’m sure I’ll hear from you, but this is the decision that I’ve made. You can either be with me or against me. As of today, I declare that Freedom Temple Church of God in Christ has been set free from bondage, we are free from restrictions. The chains are broken. We are no longer bound by tradition.”

  The people were on their feet. “All right, all right. Amen, Bishop.”

  “It’s time that we are about the work of the Lord,” Lance said. “Some of you have been here a long time. Most of you are set in your ways. But I stand before you, as the pastor of this church, as your leader, and as your head shepherd, and say that you can either be with me or go against me. If you choose to go against me, save yourselves the energy and find another church.”

  The church roared.

  “Ha!” Gladys hollered out.

  “That’s it? That’s all, Bishop?” Monique yelled out at Lance.

  Chelsea looked at Darlita. “Girl, did he just Pow, Bang, Boom us?”

  Darlita laughed out loud. “Yes, he did. In our faces.”

  Lance looked at Team Arykah. “Sister Monique, Sister Gladys, Sister Chelsea, and Sister Darlita, y’all bring my wife to me.”

  Arykah’s heart started to race. She didn’t know what Lance was getting ready to do. She put Diva Chanel on Myrtle’s lap.

  Monique and Chelsea grabbed Arykah’s left and right hand and guided her to the pulpit. Gladys and Darlita walked behind them.

  Lance called Minister Carlton Weeks to him and whispered words in his ear. Carlton nodded his head and retrieved the bottle of blessed oil from beneath the podium.

  Lance reached for Arykah’s hand. “Come close to me, Babe.”

  With her team standing closely behind her, Arykah met Lance at the podium.

  He stared into her eyes. “Almost six months ago you came into this church like a raging bull. Folks didn’t know what to think as they watched you turn this place upside down. You certainly have shaken things up. What I love about you, Arykah, is your passion to help others.”

  “Amen,” Gladys, Chelsea, and Darlita responded.

  “You are just what Freedom Temple needs. A first lady who cares and desires to see others achieve. A first lady who is trustworthy. A first lady that fights for the souls of God’s kingdom.”

  Tears flooded Arykah’s eyes.

  “A first lady that truly has her husband’s back. And I praise God for you. I honestly believe that He couldn’t have chosen a better woman for me. You are good to me, and you are good for me.”

  The tears dripped from her eyes.

  “Your steps, Lady Arykah, have been ordered. Thank you for being obedient and walking down the path that God has placed you on because it led you to me and to Freedom Temple.”

  Sniff, sniff. “Thank you, Jesus,” Arykah said. Sniff, sniff.

  Lance laid the microphone on the podium, then held out his palm. Minister Weeks poured the blessed oil in his hand. He pressed his palm against Arykah’s forehead and spoke in an unknown tongue. Arykah closed her eyes and raised her hands toward heaven and surrendered herself to God. In just moments her knees weakened and she fell back into Team Arykah’s
arms. A female usher quickly came and threw what looked like a bedsheet over Arykah’s legs when the team laid her on the floor of the pulpit.

  Myrtle sat on the front row crying at what was taking place.

  Lance looked at Arykah’s team standing next to one another. He stepped to Monique and blew in her face. Monique fell into Darlita, who fell into Chelsea, who then fell into Gladys. The ladies hit the floor in a domino effect.

  The congregation was on their feet shouting out praises.

  Lance stepped over the fallen ladies and exited the pulpit. He went and stood in front of Myrtle. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. He pressed his hand against Myrtle’s forehead and spoke in an unknown tongue. Myrtle raised her hands and received the Holy Spirit. She shouted out praises. Diva Chanel didn’t move from Myrtle’s lap.

  Lance went back to the podium and picked up the microphone. “The doors of the church are open.”

  After the benediction, Lance and Arykah stood at the entrance of the sanctuary and shook the members’ hands as they left the church. Some members told Lance that they agreed with the decision he made to do away with traditions. Others hugged Arykah and said that she was a positive influence on the church and they were glad she was there. Many women just stood in line waiting to compliment Arykah on her metallic gladiator stilettos.

  After Lance and Arykah had shaken the last hand, they started to ascend the stairs. Team Arykah and Diva Chanel were in Arykah’s office waiting on her.

  “I need a word with you, Lady Arykah.”

  The strong voice startled Arykah. She and Lance turned around and saw Saminta Williams standing at the bottom of the steps. She had come out of nowhere. Saminta’s eyes were still as angry as they were when Arykah saw them during praise and worship.

  Arykah tapped Lance’s shoulder. “You go ahead, Babe.”

  Lance kissed Arykah’s cheek, then left the ladies alone.

  Arykah descended the three steps she had climbed and stood before Saminta. She didn’t appreciate Saminta’s tone of voice. “You need a word with me? How about, ‘Lady Arykah, may I please have a word with you’? That sounds much better.”