Holy Ghost Corner

by Michele Andrea Bowen

“Grown, fast-tailed gal,” Lamont said, in mock imitation of his aunt.

  “You like it, boy,” she answered.

  “God is good . . .”

  When they pulled into the church parking lot, Rev. Quincey was standing outside waiting for him, blowing on his hands and stomping his feet in a feeble effort to keep warm. They got out of the car and he took them in through a side door, so that they didn’t have to be bothered with any of the folks eating the breakfast prepared by Roxanne Daye’s missionary group in the lobby.

  “I thought you two would prefer waiting for the meeting to start in the comfort of my study,” Rev. Quincey said as he opened the door, ushered them in, and locked it.

  As soon as they got back in the inner office, there lined up against the wall was family and friends. The first person Lamont saw was his son, Montavous. He hadn’t seen his baby boy in months. Monty had been down in New Orleans working on the Gospel United Church’s task force to rebuild some of the churches that were destroyed by Hurricane Katrina.

  “Dad,” Monty said and grabbed his father in a big hug. “Sorry couldn’t make the wedding. Mama said that it was kind of impromptu and you would understand. But she—”

  “I also said,” Gwen stated, coming out of her seat way back in the corner of the office, “That he had better be here today. He flew into Durham late last night.”

  “Thank you, Gwen,” Lamont said.

  “It’s our wedding present to you and Theresa. Just wanted the two of you to know that we love you and think you make the best couple.”

  “Thank you, Gwen,” Theresa said and went to hug her and Monty.

  “Now that that’s been taken care of, can we get down to business?” James asked. “Because it’s ’bout time you two newlyweds made it to your own meeting.”

  “They still on their honeymoon, baby,” Rhonda said. “And judging from that great big hickey on your sister-in-law’s neck, we better be glad they even made it to this meeting.”

  Theresa blushed and put her hand up to her neck.

  “Wrong side,” Vanessa said and laughed.

  “Yeah, baby,” Lamont said, grinning because he just knew he was the man. “It’s right here.” He kissed the spot and whispered, “Still as sweet as it was when I first laid down my mark.”

  “Boy!” Theresa said, all embarrassed.

  “I bet that’s just what you said earlier,” Lena stated. “That’s why your neck all hickeyed up.”

  “We need to quit teasing Mrs. Green and do what we are all up in here on top of each other for—pray,” Rev. Quincey said.

  “Now grab somebody’s hand and bow your heads. Miss Queen Esther, will you lead us in prayer?”

  Queen Esther poured some anointing oil on her hands and held them out so that everybody could get some of it. When everybody had oil on their palms, they rejoined hands and she began.

  “Lord, we come together in agreement that You are going to bless Lamont with the opportunity to rebuild Cashmere Estates, and that You will give him all the money and support he will need to do it and do it right. We bind up anyone and anything who will try to stop this in the name of Jesus. And when he enters the sanctuary and gives his presentation, we claim in Jesus’ name that somebody on that committee is going to award our Lamont with the contract. Let us all say . . .”

  “Amen,” they finished, and then added as one voice, “In Jesus’ name.”

  “Let’s go, y’all,” Lauren Rhodes told them.

  The meeting wasn’t scheduled to begin for another twenty minutes. But when they entered the lobby, it was clear of all of those people who were there just fifteen minutes ago. They walked up to the main doors of the sanctuary and found them closed.

  Rev. Quincey pulled at the door, and was stopped by a member of Jethro Winters’s team, who said, “You will have to wait until Mr. Winters finishes his presentation.”

  “But this meeting wasn’t even scheduled to start yet,” Rev. Quincey stated, and had to be held back by Joseph, James, Bug, Monty, and Cousin Buddy when that man closed the door to the sanctuary of his church in his face.

  “Oh, I know that white boy didn’t try and clown you like that, Rev.,” Rhonda protested, ready to snatch that door open and hurt somebody.

  Baby Doll and Mr. Lacy, who more and more were becoming integral parts of the church’s spiritual life, started laughing because they knew they were getting ready to engage in a good fight. And if there was one thing both of them enjoyed, it was a good fight for all the right reasons.

  “Oh, we are going to turn this meeting out,” Baby Doll said, wondering why everybody was staring so hard at her clothes.

  “Uhh, Miss Baby Doll,” Bug said, “I kinda like your suit.”

  “Thank you, baby,” she said. “It was a Valentine’s Day present from my sweet husband.”

  “It’s nice,” everybody said, in awe of the pretty pink corduroy pantsuit she was wearing with a white turtleneck sweater. It was kind of unnerving to see her dressed so regular. And then somebody thought to check her feet.

  “Whew. I was worried that a whole bunch of things were going to be out of whack until I glanced down,” Rhonda leaned over and whispered to Theresa, who took note of Miss Baby Doll’s pink jelly shoes and said, “Yeah, talking about being thankful for small miracles.”

  “Come on,” Mr. Lacy said as he started walking away. “We are going up in that meeting and turning it out.”

  They walked outside and around to the side door that gave access to the choir loft. Rev. Quincey opened the door with his key and they all walked right in and took their seats in the choir loft, with the exception of Rev. Quincey and Lamont. They went and sat in the pulpit chairs.

  Jethro Winters was giving a detailed report of his plans to a large audience from a podium that had been placed on the floor near the center of the altar. He stopped talking when he heard the doors opening and turned around to find out what all of the commotion was about. When he saw all of those black folk sitting up in the choir loft behind Lamont Green he was “fit to be tied.” And he became spitting mad when he saw his wife and her new employees, Charmayne and another high-maintenance-looking black woman, sitting in the back of the church laughing.

  “I believe,” he said through tight lips and clenched teeth, “that you people have violated protocol and need to move to a more suitable location until I am through with my business.”

  Rev. Quincey glanced over at his audio man and nodded. When Jethro started back into his report, all everybody heard was that annoying squeaking sound no one could stand to listen to.

  Nina Rhodes, who was in charge of Green Pastures’ presentation, nodded over at Yvonne Fountain and a small ensemble of musicians to start playing. She smiled at the audio man, who immediately slipped her DVD into place and turned the lights down.

  Yvonne, heedless of Jethro’s angry posturing and sputtering, joyfully struck up one of those good-ole country gospel songs by North Carolina’s own Luther Barnes. Almost everybody in the sanctuary got up out of their seats and started swaying and clapping like they were at a church service.

  When Jethro Winters, along with a few members of his team, made to protest, Rev. Quincey pulled a cordless microphone from out of nowhere and said, “You broke the rules when you started the meeting early and without your competition present. Then you and your people came up in my church and attempted to bar me and my members from entering the sanctuary. Now, when I last checked the list of folks who tithe to keep this church running, I did not see a one of your names. So, you sit down before I forget that I am a preacher and come out of this pulpit to deal with you like the brother-man that I am.”

  Unless he wanted another fight on his hands, and this time in front of television cameras, Jethro realized that it was in his best interest to sit down for the moment. He reasoned that Green couldn’t do too much, if he had to rely on some old country Negro church music to get his point across. Black people killed him with always having to play music, sing a song, and give a t
estimony when they had to deal with some serious business.

  The musicians resumed playing, and the audio man turned Nina’s clever and classy DVD presentation back on. It began with a brief history of the old Cashmere Estates with pictures of the homes, the landscape, and the people who once lived there. Then it showed how the community had deteriorated over the years and fallen into the wasteland that it was today. There were interviews with former residents, footage of the surrounding neighborhoods, and Green Pastures’ trump card—Nina’s virtual creation of the new Cashmere Estates. It was so incredible, so warm and inviting, and so beautiful that folks— black and white, old and young, rich and poor—got up out of their seats and gave Lamont’s company a standing ovation.

  The television and newspaper people went crazy with excitement over what they were seeing. They had been invited to the meeting by the Winters Development Corporation. But the true news-breaking story was coming from what one reporter would coin “the little company that did.”

  Jethro tried to ease out before the media saw him. But Bailey, who knew many of the members of the press, smoothly guided their attention to him and his team members as they were walking out of the very door Lamont, Theresa, and the rest had been forced to walk in.

  Craig Utley ran up to Lamont and almost knocked him down when he grabbed him in a powerful bear hug. Others affiliated with the DUDC, with the sole exception of Patty Harmon, Parvell Sykes, and that lone black man whose name so few people could remember, were now running up to Lamont to congratulate him on receiving the contract.

  Lamont looked back at his wife and blew her a kiss. When he turned to answer a barrage of questions from the media, he saw Jethro’s wife, Charmayne, and Chablis. All three smiled at him before they left. Bailey had recently started a company that would rebuild individual homes and small-business sites that had fallen into disrepair. She was quite aware that they would need to partner with Green Pastures from time to time on various business ventures, and wanted its CEO and president, Lamont Green, on her side.

  Lamont knew the Lord had given him the contract ever since he got the check from Bailey Winters. But to see how it all played out and manifested was nothing short of incredible. There really was nobody like the King of Glory. God was all that, a bag of chips and more, as the teens at the church always said.

  “Kinda makes you wonder why more folks haven’t wanted to get saved and know Jesus, don’t it pastor?” Queen Esther said to Rev. Quincey.

  “Uhh huh,” was all he said, as he held his fist out for her to give him some “dap.”

  Epilogue

  March, One Year Later

  LAMONT AND THERESA WERE SO TIRED, THEY WERE seeing cross-eyed. They had been a part of three move-ins today, and it didn’t seem like they were done. James and Rhonda needed help with putting dishes away in the kitchen and dining room. Nina Rhodes wanted Lamont to help her with placing her new sofa at her cottage around the corner from James and Rhonda. And Theresa’s parents, who’d been talking about downsizing for years, would not leave them alone until they stopped by to see how the unpacking at their new row house was coming along.

  As much faith as he had in his project, seeing it come to life was a miracle. When Lamont and Theresa first drove into the new development, he got out of the car when he saw the entry sign. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he ran his hands over the smooth blue limestone with large black lettering that read, “Cashmere Estates: A Green Pastures Community.”

  He and Theresa had walked the entire property hand in hand, praising God when the first set of homes went up. When they reached what was to become the new Meeting House, Theresa started to cry when she saw the street sign, “Holy Ghost Corner.” It was on that very spot that she and Lamont shared their first kiss. And it was on that same corner that the Green Pastures team prayed for this to come to be.

  But today, moving day for the first set of residents, was beyond anything that either Lamont or Theresa could imagine. Cashmere Estates was finished and it was something to see.

  There were four different types of homes in the development. The first had been built with young families, single-parent families, and empty nesters in mind. The units were one- and two-story red-brick row houses with anywhere from 1,300 to 1,700 square feet. Every home had a small front yard, with a slightly larger backyard, which included a deck and storage unit. A park was nearby with a pavilion, clubhouse, picnic tables, tennis and basketball courts, and Olympic-sized indoor and outdoor pools. The walking/biking trail, which started at the park, wrapped around the entire community.

  The second set of homes, which were larger, consisted of one-story stucco cottages in Caribbean colors of yellow, peach, pale green, turquoise, and light blue. The homes started at 1,600 square feet and could get as large as 2,000. The yards were about the same size as the first set of units. And about the only difference concerning the yards were the screened-in back porches attached to the decks. To complete the Caribbean theme of the landscaping, there was a wonderful garden square set in the midst of this section that would display all manner of bright flowers and foliage during the summer months.

  The third section of homes was the most expensive and distinctive. The elegant gold and pink brick townhouses ranged from 1,900 all the way up to 3,200 square feet. They had the same amount of yard space as the homes in the other sections, with one added feature—a second-floor screened-in porch that opened from the sitting room off the master bedroom.

  These homes were so nice, Theresa and Lamont snatched up one of the larger units and immediately put both of their homes on the market. They were like two little kids when they worked out all of the building details with Lauren Rhodes-Ramirez, who never failed to check on their home when conducting her routine site visits to make sure that each house in Cashmere Estates was being built to perfection.

  Every day during construction, Lauren could be seen walking around in jeans, Green Pastures work shirt, green Timberlands, and a pretty green hard hat with “Lauren” painted on it in a soft yellow. And sometimes trailing behind her were those three bad little boys running around in their own hard hats and Bob the Builder tools, driving everybody but their mama crazy.

  But the award-winning section in this already highly praised community was built especially for the seniors. It consisted of three single-story gold-brick buildings. Two buildings housed senior citizens who were healthy or had minor health and mobility concerns. And the middle building provided nursing care for those needing it on a permanent and temporary basis. The middle building also contained a senior clubhouse, a cafeteria that served some of the best food in town, and an urgent care clinic.

  The press loved Cashmere Estates, the public officials loved Cashmere Estates, real estate agents loved Cashmere Estates, and mortgage companies loved Cashmere Estates. But most importantly, the residents loved Cashmere Estates.

  When the press came to interview the brand-new manager of the janitorial team, Mrs. Baby Doll Lacy, she told them, “You peoples is walking round this place oohing and ahhing about how good it look, how warm it feels, how affordable each level of the different houses is, how caring the developer is, and being all in awe over how Lamont Green was able to get something like this done. Well, Lamont Green didn’t get this done—God did. And since nothing is impossible with God, the awe should be over getting a good whiff of His wondrous working power.”

  Theresa and Lamont left her parents’ house and headed toward the car. It was getting late and she had to go by the store to place some orders. Lamont was about to open the door for Theresa, when he paused and said, “Did you hear that?”

  “What?”

  “That,” he said and then sniffed the air.

  “What you sniffing at and listening to?”

  “Theresa,” Lamont said grinning. “Can’t you hear the Delfonics on the radio? It’s coming out of somebody’s open window. Imagine that—an open window with a radio in it.”

  She tilted her head, and sure enough, “La La Me
ans I Love You” was sounding so good in the window of a house several feet away from them. Then she sniffed and laughed.

  “Lawd, the houses ain’t even up good and somebody out here cooking barbecue.”

  Several little boys ran past dribbling basketballs, followed by somebody’s sister on a fancy scooter calling out, “I’m tellin’ Mama. She said you had to let me come with you.”

  Their church’s van passed by, going in the direction of the seniors’ section.

  “Senior singles night meeting,” Lamont said.

  “Then that explains why I saw Mother Clydetta Overton sitting in the front seat of the van,” Theresa told him. “I didn’t realize that she had joined Fayetteville Street.”

  “She didn’t,” Lamont told her. “I just said that it’s senior singles night.”

  The only ice cream truck Green Pastures allowed in the neighborhood turned into the development just as the church van made its way out.

  “Why is the ice cream man out here? It’s still kinda chilly outside.”

  “He lives here and sells his homemade ice cream all year round.”

  The truck stopped and a few mothers went over to get a gallon from Mr. Lacy, who thankfully was sitting on the passenger side.

  “Baby,” Theresa asked, “who is driving the truck?”

  “Mr. Lacy’s brother.”

  “The one who can’t walk?”

  “Don’t ask or try to figure it out, Theresa. I’ve tried it. And you’ll only give yourself a headache.”

  Lamont leaned on his car.

  “Come here, Miss Thang of the legendary Miss Thang’s Holy Ghost Corner and Church Woman’s Boutique,” he said and grabbed Theresa around the waist, pulling her close to him.

  “You do realize that you started your first business here, when you had that cart of ‘Assorted Church Lady Items’ back in the day,” Lamont said.

  Theresa had almost forgotten about that cart. Her husband was absolutely right. What was to become Miss Thang’s got its start almost on the exact spot where she had just planted her feet. She turned back and smiled at Lamont, who returned the favor with a soft kiss on the lips.