That next day, I was in need of a shower. I was still bleeding from after having the miscarriage; I had terrible cramps and found no relief. I didn’t have any money and I needed a new pair of clothes and toiletries before I bled through my clothes. A corner store sat a few blocks down the street. My shirt was big enough to hide a few things and I decided to take my chances stealing the things I needed.
I walked into the store and paid attention to the fact that there were no security cameras or mirrors that would reflect what I was doing. The man at the register was an Arabic man who wasn’t paying attention to me. He spoke loudly into his phone, turned toward shelves of cigarette cases. I grabbed a box of tampons and stuffed it under my shirt. I walked to the other aisle and grabbed some soap, toothpaste, and aspirin. I stuffed them under my breasts inside of my bra and was thankful for big boobs and a baggy shirt. I turned around and quickly left the store before the man even registered my presence.
I found the nearest restaurant and locked myself in the bathroom. I washed out my underwear, cleaned my body, freshened up, and left. I went to the cashier and asked for a cup of water. When she gave me the water, I swallowed three aspirin and sat down. The food smelled so good, I felt sick. I hadn’t eaten in a few days. I walked back up to the counter and waited for the girl to come back to her register.
“Welcome to Burger Queen. What can I get for you?”
“Um, can I get a free sandwich?” I said barely above a whisper. I was embarrassed to be asking for free food.
“No, you have to pay for it. Only water is free,” she told me kindly.
“But I ain’t got no money and I ain’t ate in a few days.”
She looked concerned. “I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s company policy.”
“Can I talk to your manager?”
“He’s not in today. I’m sorry.”
“He ain’t gonna know you gave me a sandwich,” I said, hoping I could convince her, but she barely blinked.
“I can’t,” she said and hesitated before walking away. “I’m sorry.”
I left the store feeling defeated. I was on the verge of breaking down. I was sixteen with nowhere to go, I lost my baby, and I hadn’t eaten in days. I needed a miracle. Faith once told me that God knows what we need before we even know it ourselves. If that’s true, God must be like Momma, ’cause He never gave me anything I needed.
I sat at a bench, watching a black car pull up in front of me. A woman got out of the driver’s side and walked around to the passenger side and began helping an old lady out of the car. My eyes locked on the woman as she stood, straightening her back, taking a step forward with the cane in her hand. Maybe it was her godly appearance that attracted me to her. She was an old church woman, black and big and dressed to a tee in her church clothes. Her big purple hat matched perfectly with her suit. Dark sunglasses shaded her face, making it impossible to see her expression. She walked with a black cane and had the younger woman, maybe in her mid-forties, escort her inside a building. I was drawn to the woman like a moth to a flame. I didn’t realize my feet had a mind of their own until they began guiding me to where the two women stood.
“Excuse me,” I said, watching the younger woman turn around to me. I didn’t know what I was going to say; I just felt the urge to be in the old lady’s presence.
“Can I help you?” The younger of the two smiled.
“Who is it, Norma?” the old lady said with a deep country drawl that was melodic. She turned in my direction, looking at me, but her face still seemed to question me. “Who is it?”
“A girl.” Norma frowned. Even when she frowned she was pretty. She reminded me of Faith, beautiful and light skinned, except Norma was aged by stress and maybe something else I couldn’t put my finger on. Now that I saw her up close, I realized she couldn’t have been older than forty. “Child, you look lost. Are you okay?”
“No.” I didn’t mean to tell the truth, but something about the old lady’s presence made me want to.
She took a step toward me, seeming to not see me, and reached out her hand, feeling her way to my own. Once she had my hand, she squeezed. “Child, you got all your feet? All your teeth? All your toes and a working brain?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you’re okay. As long as you ain’t dying, you’re okay,” she said.
“I been sleeping on a park bench for days and I ain’t had a good meal in about two. Am I still okay?”
She smiled and took off her glasses. Her unfocused eyes were gray and shadowed. “I’m blind. Am I okay?” She laughed out loud, sharing a joke with only herself. “Yes! And you are too. See, God always provides.” She turned to where the other woman stood. “Norma, give this girl the money in my purse. God told me to carry all of this money on me today. I didn’t understand why until now.”
Norma quickly reached in the old woman’s purse and handed me a large stack of money. I was speechless. Norma seemed to be as well.
“Take the money and get yourself a nice meal and a hotel.” The old lady smiled again, oblivious to our shock. “You want the wisdom of an old lady? I’ve given you a seed, you plant it, water it, love it, and watch it grow. A fool spends all of his money in one day.” She turned away from me and allowed Norma to escort her to the building.
“What is your name?” I asked her, feeling elated.
Norma stopped right before they entered the building and turned around to me. “Her name is May Baker,” she said. “Pastor of Rising Faith Ministries.”
I watched them go inside, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time I saw her.
I did exactly what May Baker told me to do. I got myself a nice meal, making sure I didn’t spend too much on food, and then I went around the corner to the cheapest motel and gave the man enough money to keep me sheltered for a week. Thankfully I had an ID at sixteen, but once the man saw my age, he began asking questions. I ended up tipping him thirty dollars to stop asking.
I sat down on my bed, counting the money while eating leftovers from my lunch. It was a total of $3,000. May Baker had given me $3,000! I wanted jump up and go shopping but remembered the bit of wisdom May Baker gave me, to plant my money and watch it grow. I didn’t know what that meant, but I figured I’d start at the bank.
I sat with a personal banker for about an hour, going over opening a student checking account, establishing credit, putting my money into an account where the bank would match me a dollar for every dollar I would deposit. Thankfully they allowed me to open an account without a guardian.
After leaving the bank, I found the nearest thrift store and bought a week’s worth of clothes for only twenty dollars. They weren’t the best clothes but that didn’t matter to me. I had something to wear. After that, I ordered Chinese food and watched TV in the motel until I fell asleep. I remember dreaming about my money turning into $6,000, and it kept doubling until I was a millionaire. It was a good dream. Too bad it wasn’t real.
I woke up that next morning with the biggest urge to find May Baker, but I swallowed it. I didn’t even know why I wanted to find her; I just knew that I did. Even when I swallowed the thought, I still felt it pressing at the corners of my mind.
Sitting around a motel thinking about all of the pain in my life was tiresome. I needed something to do. I needed to find a job. At sixteen, there were only a few places I could work and none of them seemed appealing. A thought occurred to me. Maybe May Baker needed someone to help her out. Norma looked tired and seemed to be getting too old to be escorting an old lady around, if that was what she did all day. Plus it was a way to pay May Baker back for her kindness.
I remembered Norma stating that she attended a church called Rising Faith. There had to be a way to contact her. I decided to spend that next day doing exactly that. I started off at the library a few miles away from the motel. I started searching her name and, when that failed, I tried searching for the church. Multiple Web sites mentioned the phenomenal church, noting its generosity and programs for the yout
h. Although interesting, I chose the actual Web site and found the address located at the bottom. I then put the address in the search engine and found the directions. It was just four miles away. I found the bus route and decided to go down to the church.
An hour later I stood in front of an old white stone church twice the size of the country church Faith went to. It was bordered with black metal gates that remained open for the public. The windows were made out of some type of stained glass I’d never seen before. They held images of Jesus and Mary and of angels that seemed to be looking right at me. All of it was too much. I was instantly stuck in once place, not wanting to move.
I hadn’t really thought out my plan once I got to the church. I’d never stepped a single foot in a church and promised myself I never would. And here I was, looking for a blind old lady and questioning whether I should go inside. My stomach turned. I knew I didn’t like churches but I hadn’t realized churches placed such fear in my heart. I could barely breathe.
I stood there for about an hour, debating, before I decided to stand just outside of the church and wait until she either came or went. Eventually I got tired of standing and began sitting, watching the traffic pass by, wondering what lives those people lived, where they were off to, what mood they were in. By the time nine o’clock came, I realized I wasn’t going to see the old lady and decided to leave.
I kept the same routine for three days that week. Sitting just outside of the church’s gates, waiting to see the old lady come or go, but nothing. One that third day, around six o’clock in the evening, people began walking inside of the church, dressed in nice clothes, holding their Bibles.
I stood up from the ground when a woman stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. She cocked her head to the side. “Girl, I rode passed the church the other day and saw you sitting out here, and now I’m back for Bible Study and you’re still sitting out here? Are you homeless or crazy?”
“I’m waiting for May Baker.”
“Pastor Baker is old and can’t move around like she used to. She only comes to church on Wednesdays and Sundays for Bible Study and service. Why don’t you come inside? I’m sure she’s already here. You might’ve missed her.”
I hesitated. “Um, no, I’ll wait outside.”
She wrapped her blue shawl around her body. “Child, it’s chilly outside. You gonna catch a cold if you keep standing out here like that. Come on inside.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not cold. I’ll wait outside.”
The woman looked me up and down, frowning. But she left me alone and went inside. I sank back onto the ground and pulled my arms inside of my shirt for more warmth and waited.
I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep until a soft voice interrupted me. I opened my eyes to a dark evening and Norma standing over me. May Baker stood on the sidewalk, waiting.
“Girl, why are you outside of the church sleeping?”
I pushed my arms through my shirt and sat up. “I want to talk to May Baker.”
Norma looked back at May and then focused her hard eyes on me. She helped me to my feet and took me over to where May stood.
“It’s the homeless girl from the other day, Momma,” Norma said, standing aside for me to be able to talk to May. I hadn’t realized Norma was May’s daughter.
May smiled sweetly. “God told me you’d be back,” May said, confusing me. I didn’t know that God talked to people. Faith said He used to talk to people back in the day. I guessed it wouldn’t be any different now. “What is the problem, child?”
“I want to thank you for giving me that money and I want to repay you,” I told her. “Maybe I can help you out through the week? I can come by your house and clean and cook, take you places. I can’t drive, but I can learn, and I don’t really know the city, but—”
“Hold on, baby,” May Baker said softly. “Let me get this straight. So you’re volunteering to help me out around the house to repay me for the money I gave you? Honey, that was Jesus’ money, repay Him, not me.”
I thought about it for a minute. “I can repay Him by helping you out. Faith used to tell me that God loves it when His people love each other like they love themselves.”
“Who’s Faith?” May asked.
“My twin.” I really didn’t want to talk about her, so I changed the subject. “Can I please help you?”
“Momma, the girl seems nice and we could use the help.” Norma turned to me. “We need someone to help out around the house while I’m at work. You can come over in the mornings for a few hours.” She grabbed a piece of paper and pen from her purse and began writing on it. “From nine to twelve, or for however long you want to stay and help. The address and phone number are on the paper.”
I took the piece of paper from her with a smile. “Thank you!”
“No, honey, thank you,” Norma said, and continued guiding May to the car. “We’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Chapter 10
That next day, I stood in front of a Victorian-style home. The land was spacious but dying. The grass had brown patches that stretched across the yard. The garden was unattended and messy. The paint on the house was beginning to chip, making the house look slightly haunted. I could imagine how beautiful the house once was, before May Baker was too old to keep it up.
Aside from the work that needed to be done, the house was still beautiful. It looked like a small castle, with a multifaceted structure. The roof pointed sharply to the sky at different locations, making the house look like it held four or five levels. The roof was black, as well as the shutters and front door. And just like Momma’s house, this one had a beautiful weeping willow tree that sat in the front yard. I could see multiple trees swaying behind the house in the backyard.
I walked up on the porch, noticing the porch swing to my left and a few chairs with a table to my right. A glass of lemonade still sat on the table with ice floating. Someone had been sitting on the porch not too long ago.
Before I knocked on the door, Norma came rushing out of the house accompanied by two children, a boy and girl around seven years old. She looked up to me absentmindedly and managed a smile when she saw me. She guided the kids down the stairs and stopped to talk to me. Up close, I could see the exhaustion that slouched her shoulders.
“Momma’s in the house taking a nap. I stop by every morning before work to check on her and make sure she’s taken her medicine and eaten. I left details on the kitchen table. It’ll tell you when she takes her medicine and which medicine she takes. Now she’s already had her morning medicine and won’t be due for more until noon. So every day before you leave, give her the medicine. It’s very important. I’ll be back around six tonight, so she’ll be on her own after you leave, but she’s capable of caring for herself. She just really needs help around the house, there is a lot of cleaning she can’t do. I left my number on the table just in case you ever need to call me.” She said everything in a rush, but I was sure I had gotten the gist of it. She smiled and turned toward her car, shouting to her kids to buckle their seat belts, and then she was gone.
I grabbed the lemonade off of the table, figuring May forgot it outside, and stepped into the house. The inside was nicer than what I thought. May had a spacious living room with a tan couch set and glass tables. A forty-two-inch flat-screen TV sat against the wall. The channel was broadcasting a sermon from Pastor T.D. Jakes. May sat upright on the couch and had dozed off. I took the opportunity to explore her house. I walked through the living room, taking in the fireplace and the decorated mantel. Pictures of Norma’s kids sat atop it, along with porcelain elephants.
I walked into the kitchen, impressed by its size. A nice table sat in the middle of the room. A fruit basket was centered on the table and the note sat beside it. I placed the lemonade on the table and picked up an apple and bit into it. With the other hand, I went through the cabinets, memorizing where May kept her spices, food, and dishes. I opened her refrigerator, staring at all of the f
ood. I picked up a carton of skim milk and quickly placed it back. “Nothing but a bunch of old people’s food.” I closed the door and headed into what looked like a nice dining area, with a larger, sturdy table, made of a beautiful dark wood. She had it decorated with nice flowered placemats, and dishware. Fresh flowers sat in the middle of the table and the sunlight from the window reflected off of the crystal chandeliers, painting diamonds on the walls.
I skipped past the bathroom and made my way back to the front of the house and walked upstairs, listening to the steps creak. The first room was locked. I continued past the bathroom and opened the third door, which led to a bedroom with flowered wallpaper, a full-sized white bed, and a brown dresser. I closed the door and headed to the last room.
And then I heard May downstairs coughing.
I left the last bedroom and went back downstairs to check on May, who was still sleeping. I was about to finish exploring the house but heard a knock at the front door. I opened the door, greeted by a boy around my age who was so light skinned his cheeks were pink. He looked shy and smiled at me sweetly.
“Is Pastor Baker here?”
I folded my arms, which was a defensive mechanism whenever I met new people. “She’s taking a nap, who are you?”
“I’m Dante, I go to her church.”
“Do you need something?”
He smiled again. “I come over every day to keep Pastor Baker company.”
“Well, she’s asleep and I’ll be keeping her company today.”
He frowned. “I come over to play checkers with her. It’s her favorite game. Do you know how to play?”
“No.”
“Well, she’s going to want to play.” He tried to step inside but I blocked him.
“I’ll learn,” I said and shut the door. I took a seat in the chair next to May and I, too, eventually dozed off.
I woke up to quiet voices. I stood up, stretched and then walked to the window and peeked out. I had the perfect view of May and Dante outside on the porch playing checkers. I jumped up and walked out on the porch as they were laughing. Dante was first to look up.
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