Chapter 37
He hadn’t been inside but about ten minutes, before Trustee Noel stood beside Bea’s couch with his head in his hands. They worried him so much he twirled that sprig down to one hair, and he was protecting it at all cost.
From the moment he’d walked into Bea’s apartment, everyone had given him an excuse for the drama. It took him a few minutes to adjust his eyes after seeing Sasha in a state he never wanted to see again. Although, he thought that had he been a lot younger, he might’ve appreciated those parentheses-shaped legs of hers.
He took Elder Batty Brick and Brother Casanova to the side to discuss what to do about “their” women. Of course, the men reminded him that he caused it in the first place when he put them side by side. And that’s when Trustee Noel reminded the men that Bea and Sasha had lived across town from one another for decades, and always found a way to peck at each other.
While the men stood over in a corner assessing and passing blame, Bea and Sasha stood in the kitchen. Bea had her refrigerator door open with its bright light shining on her ring finger. Sasha also held a flashlight on the ring just in case they missed something with the refrigerator light.
“It’s gorgeous, Bea. And I’m sorry I made such a mess of your engagement. I thought you were hurt.” Sasha had mixed a lie somewhere in the truth. She smiled, forgetting she didn’t have her false teeth in, as she turned Bea’s ring finger back and forth under the flashlight. “It looks like your cooking done finally paid off.”
“Well, thank you Sasha,” Bea replied, “but ya know when I put it in an oven, it will bake.” She couldn’t help but laugh at her own pun.
Any other time Bea would’ve challenged Sasha’s lie instead of laughing with her, but not tonight. She’d spoiled Elder Batty Brick beyond rotten and her red velvet cake sealed the deal. Besides, seeing Sasha bald in the mouth and everywhere it counted made Bea feel sorry for her. She forgave Sasha and loaned her one of her robes.
Bea and Sasha rejoined the men in the living room. Of course, Bea immediately flew to Elder Batty Brick’s side and showed the ring to Trustee Noel. She apologized for the disruption and gave Sasha a hug to prove all was well.
“So when is the big day?” Trustee Noel asked. He really wanted to know when and if Elder Batty Brick would move Bea out so peace could return to the Lillie Sinclair.
“I just proposed tonight,” Elder Batty Brick replied. “Bea ain’t even said yes yet.”
Everyone in the room looked at Elder Batty Brick with his Santa Hat torn into strips as though he’d lost his mind.
Bea and Sasha started laughing. They laughed so hard they had to lean on one another to stand up. Finally, Bea was able to speak coherently. “Well, suh,” she started as she looked at her new fiancé. “In the kitchen me and my best friend talked about my deep love and appreciation for ya. She shined a light on something and I’m convinced that I wanna be a Brick.”
Elder Batty Brick couldn’t get the grin off his face, but it didn’t stop his mouth from asking a stupid question. “That’s wonderful, Bea”—he looked around—“but when am I gonna meet your best friend who showed you the light?”
That’s when Sasha clocked him in the chest with the flashlight and started singing, “This little light of mine.”
Later on that night, after Sister Betty had said her good-byes to Cheyenne, Alice “Grandma Puddin’,” and Reverend Tom, she climbed into the limousine and moved closer to the trustee.
They didn’t speak for a while, preferring to watch the beautiful and colorful Christmas lights fade into the shadows of the Promised Land.
The surroundings were beautiful and the ride peaceful, but the trustee’s thoughts went in all directions. Before the fiasco at Bea’s apartment, he had Christmas Eve all planned and Sister Betty would’ve loved it. He could’ve beaten last year’s pig feet out of Elder Batty Brick, but then he had himself to blame.
He should never have told the elder that he planned to propose to Sister Betty again. Elder Brick had upped him one and proposed to Bea first. It wouldn’t have been too much of a problem had not Bea and Sasha been Bea and Sasha and disrupted Christmas Eve. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Santa took another route and bypassed the Promised Land’s children all together.
To get more comfortable Sister Betty opened her white lamb’s wool coat at the neck. The trustee had it handmade for her as a Christmas present. She’d given him a thousand-dollar gift certificate to Jos. A. Bank just to get him away from JCPenney.
She removed the matching hat without disturbing her wig. She sighed and laid her head back against the softness of the limo’s heated leather seat. She took another peek at the beautiful scenery that flashed as they rode. Without saying a word, she smiled, hugged her Bible to her chest, closed her eyes, and daydreamed on how God had begun to deal with her in a different way.
My knees don’t ache quite as much. I’ve seen Cheyenne travel from Belton to Pelzer for services at least twice each month and for an elderly white woman with rheumatoid arthritis, she outshouts most.
I’ve prayed and fasted on a particular matter, and called on God to show me how His need for me would affect a married life, mine in particular, if it were to happen. I’ve never been married nor been asked so have never brought it before the Throne.
Why have I become so comfortable with a man I’ve known for years without really getting to know him during that time? I enjoy his visits, don’t find him as unattractive as some, love the way he twirls his sprig of hair. I appreciate his ironic wit and the constant shower of approval and praises he heaps without provocation. Most of all, I love the way the trustee loves the Lord.
I’ve never lived with anyone before and yet he fits so comfortably at my kitchen table when we dine at my home.
Forgetting for the moment that she daydreamed, she murmured, “Lord, what could possibly be wrong with this man?”
And then God, with his eternal sense of humor, pulled back the cover of Sister Betty’s eyes and ears.
The trustee snored. He sounded like an old-time train engine choking on his own smoke.
The ball was now in her corner.
Before they knew it, the limo pulled into Sister Betty’s driveway. Trustee Noel got out and walked her to her door, being careful that she didn’t slip on the path.
They laughed when they saw the light a few doors away, inside Reverend Tom’s living room, go out. That meant he’d arrived home before them and had waited up until she got home.
“I see your spiritual son still spies on you,” the trustee teased. “I guess he thinks I’m a regular Mack Daddy or something.”
“Oh he thinks you’re something,” Sister Betty whispered, and added, “Me, too.”
The next morning, Reverend Tom woke to the sound of someone leaning on his doorbell. He grabbed a robe, threw it on, and almost tripped over a hassock as he raced through the living room.
Elder Batty Brick, Brother Casanova, and Trustee Noel stood huddled and shivering with the wind whipping at their backs. No one said a word as each watched the pastor’s face contort. They’d each rung the doorbell for no good reason other than they were cold and nervous.
Despite the fact it was Christmas Day, it was almost ten o’clock. The men thought the pastor, a bachelor, too, would be up already.
Reverend Tom told the men where to hang their coats and such while he retreated to the kitchen to make coffee.
“I once looked buff like that,” Brother Casanova lied, pointing to the reverend’s sculptured physique.
“Youth sure is wasted sometimes.” Elder Batty Brick’s jealousy showed and he wasn’t trying to hide it. “I gotta get my strength back. Man can’t live off red velvet cake alone.”
“Well I ain’t never looked like that and doubt if I ever will.” Trustee Noel was the only one who spoke the truth.
Once they sat at the kitchen table, the reverend, still in his pajamas and robe, poured cups of coffee. “What in the world made y’all drop by unexpected
on Christmas Day?”
“Bea don’t wanna wait to get married,” Elder Batty Brick complained as he gulped down the hot liquid.
“And all Betty does is tell me to wait,” Trustee Noel said. “I’ve waited long enough.”
The reverend put his cup down and was about to set the trustee straight about Sister Betty, but figured he’d get Brother Casanova’s problem on the table first.
“So Brother Casanova,” Reverend Tom said. “What’s your problem?”
“Oh, I ain’t got no women problems,” Brother Casanova replied.
“Then why are you here?” The reverend didn’t try to hold back his annoyance. “It’s Christmas Day,” he reminded. “Surely, you had something to do.”
“I ain’t got nothing to do so I drove ’em here.” Brother Casanova took a sip of coffee and added, “Besides, Sasha and them other hens are getting together later on. They done sniffed the air for matrimony and figure it’s time to see you married off.”
Elder Batty Brick, Trustee Noel, and Brother Casanova were shocked. They’d never seen a grown, muscle-bound, handsome preacher’s eyes tear up.
Epilogue
Before Moses started on his journey to fulfill God’s will, he’d floated in a woven basket as a baby. When he became a young adult, he lived the privileged life in Pharaoh’s house. After he’d made Pharaoh angry and discovered he’d been born a slave, Moses’ life changed forever.
He went from turning a stick into a snake to leading God’s people through the Red Sea with an angry Pharaoh nipping at his heels. Moses’ hair turned snow white after trying to lead those same hardheaded, bitter folks who weren’t too crazy about eating manna wafers every day.
But Moses wanted to give it all up when he returned from a mountain visitation with God. Confronted with proof that the people had truly lost their minds he became angry to see that they’d melted their gold and other fine metals together and made a very expensive image of a bull to worship.
Reverend Tom finished rereading his sermon notes, made an adjustment here and there as led by the Holy Spirit, then laid his pen down upon the pad. It would be the fourth time he preached from the book of Exodus. Each time, he gained a new appreciation for what Moses had done. The reverend ran his fingers through his hair and along the sides of his scalp. Like Moses, during the past year, he’d sprouted a few white strands as well.
He’d also added a few new items to the wall of his den. They fit well between all the certificates and awards he’d received during the past almost ten years. THE LILLIE SINCLAIR SENIOR CITIZEN CENTER one of the plaques read. IN MEMORY OF LILLIE SINCLAIR was another one.
They were duplicates of the plaque placed on the senior building erected on the Promised Land as well as one placed on the back of the Mothers Board pew. Placing the one on the back of the pew was Bea’s idea.
There was also a large picture of his grandmother. She was a striking woman with a cinnamon complexion, huge eyes, and an extremely thin waist. Dressed in the latest fashion of her day with dark hair polished and wavy, she stood alongside several well-known men and women. Their smiles were wide and approving.
He’d come to judge Lillie Sinclair less each time he looked at her picture. He was still human and subject to judgmental tendencies, but God was still working on him.
With the completion and success of the Promised Land, other visions plagued him. There was much work left to do. However, he’d learned to take a step back and wait on God to work His plan, and not plow forward with one of his own.
His eyes had grown a little tired, so he pushed away the pad and placed a marker in the Bible. Rising from the swivel chair in his den, he looked toward Sister Betty’s house. “Lord, please help me.” He smiled. There were adjustments coming his way and despite his reservations, he’d accepted they would happen.
One of the strangest changes was that Elder Batty Brick and Bea had called off their wedding plans. He’d gotten the call after they’d had it out after Bible study following New Year’s Eve.
It appeared that Bea had gotten buyer’s remorse when the elder testified that God told him, once he married Bea, to insist she give up playing bingo and hanging out with Sasha. And God didn’t want her anywhere near Cheyenne Bigelow. He then told the church that he wanted Bea more domesticated, and if it were possible, barefoot and pregnant.
Bea’s response had been, “God knows my number and if He’d wanted such a thing He’d call me, too!” She then kicked him in his butt as he knelt at the altar.
Bea refused to give him back the ring and went on about her business. Strangely, neither seemed to mind the sudden change in the nuptial plans, and the last he’d heard, Elder Batty Brick still went to Bea’s for dinner every Sunday after service.
Once Bea had more time to peck with Sasha, then Sasha left Brother Casanova alone. But instead of him leaving well enough alone, he started buying Mary Kay from Cheyenne’s scandalous niece, Shaniqua Burke. Reverend Tom could accept all of that except the upcoming change that caused him angst. He picked the invitation off his desk and reread it.
Betty Sarah Becton
&
Freddie Noel
Invite you to share in their joy
as they exchange marriage vows
on Saturday, the Eighteenth of February
at Seven O’clock in the Evening
Lillie Sinclair Senior Citizen Center
106 East Caroline Street
Pelzer, South Carolina
Reverend Tom laid the announcement on his desk and sat back behind his desk. He opened the pad and reread his sermon notes.
Bea started her dinner cooking around three o’clock the Friday after calling off her wedding. She had just sat to rest when she heard someone pound on her door.
Judging from where the pounding was the loudest, midway in the door, she knew it was Sasha. “What do that little Smurf want now?” Bea slowly opened the door prepared with an excuse not to let her inside, but Sasha was hopping around as though she had to use the bathroom.
Bea’s disappointment raced to her face, but she didn’t say a word. She turned and went back to her kitchen where she could stir her pots.
All the while, Sasha’s mouth was set to speed chatter and no one could bring it to a halt.
“I can’t believe it!” Sasha said. She kept saying it until Bea could take it no longer.
“What is it ya can’t believe now?”
“That man is almost broke! He’s done give away practically all his money.” Sasha pounded Bea’s table, causing Bea’s cake in the oven to drop.
“What man? Who told ya that?”
“I was downstairs gossip—” Sasha corrected herself. “I was downstairs chatting with Alice ‘Grandma Puddin’ ’ when Cheyenne stopped by ’cause you know she done moved from Belton and now she’s living in building three.”
“Go on with it, Smurf!”
Sasha pretended she didn’t hear Bea’s insult because her news was more important at that moment. It didn’t mean she wouldn’t remember later.
“He done went and spent money on fixing up some of the buildings around Porky’s. I also heard Freddie Noel might want to buy a partnership in the Shanty.”
Bea was mad, and she threw the spoon she held into the sink. “That fool should’ve made me part owner. I’d fixed that slop hole up and made a real restaurant out of it.”
“Shuddup and let me finish,” Sasha barked. She plopped down onto a chair. “Just thinking about that ignorant man done made me tired.”
“You telling it or what?”
“He also gave some more money to the church and they are about to rename the fellowship hall after him. Now I guess he’s gonna hafta live off Sister Betty’s money unless that insurance settlement ever comes through. Doggone idiot!”
“Don’t lump no po’ dog in the same mess as that fool,” Bea snapped. “I wonder what Sister Betty gonna do about that wedding now. It’s gonna take a lot to have it at the Senior Center.”
“I d
on’t know what she gone do. But I ain’t tol’ you the best part yet!”
“Ya means there’s more?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sasha pointed to one of Bea’s chairs for her to sit in. “Honey, listen. Trustee Soon-To-Be-Broke also got a letter from the IRS.”
The women gossiped on, far past the time Bea should’ve taken out the roast and mashed the potatoes. But Bea and Sasha couldn’t believe the irony. The kindhearted, but still foolish, trustee had given away such a huge chunk of his money, he’d received a notice from the IRS in appreciation.
“Oh yeah, one other thing,” Sasha said between bouts of giggles. “He probably never should’ve bought that house around the corner from Sister Betty.”
“Oh stop it, Sasha.” Bea grabbed her stomach and hoped her Depend held up. She laughed so hard she began barking. “Have mercy, he should’ve known better. How was he supposed to go from the Shanty to the most expensive part of town without notice, especially since everybody knows he don’t work? Social Security hardly kept him at the Shanty.”
Bea pushed away from the table still laughing. She touched the center of the red velvet cake and when it didn’t spring back because it’d fallen, she cut a slice from that section and gave it to Sasha.
“Bea, I don’t know about you,” Sasha confessed as she crammed the cake into her mouth, “but Freddie Noel just ain’t ready for prime-time. Whatever happened to doing it as the Bible says and giving in a secret closet?”
She stopped chewing and added, “You got anything to drink? This cake is dry.”
Bea poured some water into a drinking glass and slammed it down in front of her. She made sure only a little spilled onto her annoying friend before she started talking. “He can forget about a secret closet. It ain’t a secret now.” Bea handed Sasha a napkin already wet and unusable. “From what ya saying, Uncle Sam bringing his own hangers and peeking in that closet.”
No Ordinary Noel Page 19