More Church Folk

by Michele Andrea Bowen

  Only one preacher from their district had been listed in the blue book. Queen Esther remembered raising up her hands and praising the Lord when her pastor’s name was nowhere to be found. The preacher listed in the book had just recently been reassigned to a new district, was in the process of moving, and had been going back and forth between his old church and new district until the bishop in the First District had found a suitable replacement.

  But once that book showed up the bishop had to hurry up and fix that problem. The man’s congregation couldn’t stand him anyway. Plus, they were anxious for him to leave because he was a big phony who couldn’t preach and mismanaged church funds. But even worse than that was his breath. That man’s breath smelled like hog maws, chitlins, and whiskey. It was terrible. Saphronia McComb James said that his breath would burn your eyebrows clean off of your face if he breathed up on you real close, as he had done to her when she busted up in that ho’ house twenty-three years ago.

  Queen Esther put heapings of thick, crispy, fried-to-perfection pieces of hickory-smoked bacon on two layers of paper towels. She’d had it sliced by a butcher at the farmer’s market in Raleigh. She broke off a piece of the bacon and bit into it.

  “Hmmmm.”

  She loved fresh-sliced bacon, especially when it was real thick.

  “Here,” her husband Joseph said, as he handed her a glass of her famous homemade fresh-squeezed orange juice. “You can wash it down with a glass of juice.”

  “Queen,” Thayline said, as she walked into the kitchen. “You need for me to whip up another batch of pancakes? They are gobbling them down fast, and will be calling back here for some more in a few minutes.”

  Queen Esther nodded and then said, “Yes, go ahead and do that.”

  She took the platter out of Thayline’s hands and said, “Girl, I don’t know how I would have gotten this all done without your help.”

  “You are so welcome,” Thayline told her. She was glad that Queen Esther had allowed her to help out in the kitchen. Thayline had figured, correctly, that Queen allowed very few people the privilege of working in this kitchen.

  Queen Esther started buttering up pancakes while Joseph put the bacon on one of her fancy platters and took it into the dining room.

  “Queen,” Thayline said. “What do you know about that Rico Sneed boy?”

  Queen Esther frowned. She knew a lot about Rico Sneed. In fact, she knew way more than she cared to know about Julia Sneed and all of her bad-tailed kids. Those Sneed children were never able to get along with anybody in their old neighborhood, Cashmere Estates. If one of them did something mean to another child, Julia would not correct them, even though she would have plenty to say about or to the child her children had taken issue with. It got to the point where folk wouldn’t allow their children to play with the Sneed children. Nobody appreciated Julia’s giving them a piece of her mind because they wouldn’t let one of those little Sneeds push and shove, snatch things from, and talk ugly to the other children in the neighborhood.

  “Queen,” Thayline said, hoping she had not gone too far when she asked about that Rico Sneed boy.

  Queen Esther turned to Thayline and said, “I’m sorry. Just that your question reminded me of so many unpleasant things about Rico Sneed’s family. That’s what I dislike about folk like Rico and his people—you can’t think about or talk about them without dredging up something bad.”

  “Maybe it’s because they are so good at creating a trail of bad memories,” Thayline told her.

  Queen Esther smiled. “You and I think alike. I was wondering what it was about you that I liked so much, Thayline. Folks carry on about your brother. And don’t get me wrong, I understand why. He’s a remarkable man. But you are special to me.”

  Thayline’s heart was deeply touched. She had always understood why folks went on so about her baby brother. But it was awfully nice when somebody was able to see the gem she knew herself to be.

  “So what about that Rico Sneed, Queen? He’s not right on so many levels. But nobody seems to pay much attention to him and all the dirt I’ve seen him doing since Willis and I came to Durham for this conference. Does he have any kind of connections to a church? Because Rico and that young man he hangs out with…”

  “You mean Kordell Bivens?”

  “Yes, Kordell Bivens. Do they go to church?”

  “I don’t know about that Kordell,” Queen Esther told her. “But I do know that all of the Sneeds are members of Roxboro Chapel Gospel United Church in Roxboro, North Carolina. It’s actually a good church filled with good people.”

  “Really?” Thayline asked, kind of skeptical about a church with people like that in it.

  “Yes, there are some good people at Roxboro Chapel. But just like with any other church, there are always some folks who wouldn’t know Jesus if He tossed them off of the Jericho wall. I know that the Sneeds go to church on a regular basis. But they don’t act like people who listen to and take to heart what their pastor preaches. And honestly, I’ve never met a Sneed who acted as if they were saved and had a personal relationship with Christ.”

  “Yeah,” Thayline agreed, “there’s nothing about Rico to let you know that he even knows where a church is located, let alone has any interest in Jesus.”

  “You right about that, Thayline. But my answer to your question about Rico is that he is selfish, mean, heartless, and will do anything for a buck.”

  “And I’m surprised that Bishop Giles would want to fool with Rico Sneed,” Thayline said. “He looks like a young man who will pilfer funds when he knows he can get away with it. You’d think Larsen Giles would know that, since he is greedy and prone to doing stuff like that himself. You know what they say, ‘Like knows like.’”

  “I don’t think Rico was brought in by Larsen Giles. Somebody from North Carolina would have had to do that. And it would have to be somebody up to absolutely no good to figure out that Rico Sneed was their man,” Queen Esther told her.

  “Somebody like Rev. Sonny Washington?” Thayline queried. “He’s from this area, right? And he would definitely be capable of being in cahoots with a jive-time little poot-butt like Rico Sneed.”

  All Queen Esther did was nod. That was nothing but the truth.

  “But still, why would the ministers get hooked up with Rico? Surely Sonny Washington would know this.”

  “Thayline, Rico is good at putting together programs on the computer. He designed a program to keep track of everything and everybody. They don’t have to have a book that folks can get their hands on. They can keep it on a floppy disk. And if need be, he can destroy that program to keep it out of the hands of the law because he knows that he has another one just like it hidden off somewhere else.”

  “How do you know so much about computers?”

  “My husband, Joseph, started out working in maintenance at IBM. He went back to school and was moved up. We have an IBM back in the guest room and I’ve learned a lot about computers just from tinkering with that thing. So Rico is very valuable to them. But they better watch him and that Kordell Bivens because they are bad news, and will tear up anything they get their hands on.”

  “Queen,” Joseph called out from the dining room. “You and Thayline need to come in here with the rest of us. We are ready to get this meeting started.”

  “Joseph,” Thayline called back, now thoroughly at home with her new extended family, “tell my Willis to come on back and help us bring this food up front.”

  Willis Bradford came back to help his wife and Queen Esther Green. Like Thayline and Queen Esther, he and Joseph had hit it off. It was nice to meet some church folk who were not in the limelight of church life. He’d learned so much from Joseph, who had taken a liking to Willis from the moment he laid eyes on him.

  Too often Willis, a stalwart and dependable black man, was overlooked when folks got excited about Eddie, Theophilus, and of course the bishops, Murcheson James and Percy Jennings. Folks loved to shout preachers up and down, but they could
forget just how important those solid, salt-of-the-earth church men were to the black church.

  Men like Willis Bradford were on the Steward Board, drove the church vans, did repairs on the church, and served as the armor-bearers for the pastor. People often claimed that the black church was primarily supported and held up by black women. But the black congregations that thrived and grew had a healthy supply of Willis Bradfords in the mix.

  NINETEEN

  When Queen Esther walked into her dining room, all she heard was forks and plates clicking everywhere. All she saw were some very satisfied-looking black folks with puffed-out jaws and arms waving forks over those plates. She loved cooking big breakfasts for folk. And she was delighted that these folks were enjoying her good food.

  Theophilus stuffed one more forkful of pancakes in his mouth. He knew better but they were so good. He’d already eaten six but these pancakes were so light and fluffy, he just had to have more. Essie was in Heaven. The girl loved herself some pancakes.

  “Man, these pancakes are good!” Eddie exclaimed and slurped up some coffee.

  “Naw… it’s the juice,” Susie James said. “Queen, girl, what did you put in this orange juice? I’ve never had juice this fresh and sweet.”

  “Yeah,” Joseph said, “my baby can squeeze up some oranges.”

  “Miss Queen Esther makes the best fresh-squeezed orange juice in Durham,” Denzelle said, and gulped down an eight-ounce glass in a matter of seconds.

  “So,” Percy Jennings said in between bites of his own delicious food, “just what are we dealing with and how is that going to affect the election? I never considered that Rucker, Ernest, Marcel, Sonny, Ottah, and Larsen would team up as partners.”

  “Yeah, man,” Murcheson said, “that is not a good thing. Those jokers are dangerous by themselves. But together? And they’ve managed to get along and work together without tearing each other apart? That’s scary. And it means that they believe they have something going on that can make a whole lot of money.”

  “And buy a whole lot of votes,” Percy added.

  A telephone buzzed in the square black briefcase sitting next to Denzelle’s feet.

  “Is that a phone ringing in your briefcase, son?” Joseph asked Denzelle.

  He had been wondering what that boy was up to for months now. Denzelle, who was a bit secretive by nature, had been even more undercover than he normally was. At first Joseph had thought that the boy was running back and forth between two women. But he had been disappearing up to the D.C. area for weeks on end. Denzelle was too smooth a player to be running back and forth between Durham and D.C. over some tail. He didn’t have to go through all that kind of trouble. Then Joseph worried that the boy had gotten into some funky stuff. But the drug dealers he knew didn’t carry portable phones in a standard and nondescript black leather briefcase.

  Most of the frontline dealers folks knew about on the streets wanted folks to think they were some high rollers, that business was so good they had more people than they could handle on the payroll, and had done away with all the competition. The dealers at the top, the ones who were running things, knew better than to be that flamboyant.

  But those other ones? If they had a portable phone, they sure wouldn’t hide it in a briefcase. In fact, they would go somewhere where everybody in sight could watch them call and talk to everybody they knew. And if the briefcase was black it would have so much gold and trimming on it you’d need a pair of designer shades just to look at it.

  So, the only other thing the good reverend could be was a cop. But he wasn’t one of Durham’s finest. He had FBI written all over him. Joseph didn’t know how he had missed it. But then again he did. He hadn’t met an FBI agent who wore anything but a conservative dark suit, white shirt, and somber-colored tie. He had never understood how enforcing the law required you to look like the man who drove the funeral home car.

  There was nothing conservative or somber about Rev. Denzelle Flowers. That was one sharp brother, who made good use of color in many of his tailored suits. Like this morning, for instance. Denzelle was the cleanest brother in the room. He was wearing buff-colored silk-linen slacks, a buff-and-peach-and-gray-striped linen shirt, and charcoal-colored closed-toe sandals. And he topped it all off with a buff-colored straw Kangol cap.

  Rev. Eddie Tate was usually the sharpest brother in the room. But Eddie didn’t have it like Denzelle Flowers this morning. And that was saying a lot because Eddie was awfully sharp in a white linen leisure suit with navy pinstripes running through the pants and matching shirt, along with those navy closed-toe gatored sandals.

  Denzelle had been on the back porch for a good ten minutes talking on that phone. Not everybody owned a portable telephone because they were expensive. And you certainly didn’t stand around talking on one as if you were on your house phone. It was very hard for the rest of them to stay away from that back door, and not try to find out who in the world that boy was talking to.

  Queen Esther was determined to find a way to listen in on that conversation. She thought about going to the bathroom and opening the window. But she wouldn’t be able to hear a thing when she flushed the toilet to make it appear as if she were in there for the right reason. Then she was going to get some more food from the kitchen but everybody was stuffed. She thought about making some more coffee but there was still a half pot of the coffee she’d just recently made. So she eased over to the back door but stopped when she heard Joseph coming into the kitchen, and then heard Denzelle walking back toward the door.

  “Queen…” Joseph began, but stopped when he saw Denzelle’s face.

  “Son? You okay?”

  “That was Duke Hospital giving me the report on Bishop Larsen Giles.”

  “Why would Duke call you about Bishop Giles, Denzelle? You a preacher, not a doctor. Plus, you a young preacher—don’t even have your own church. So why you instead of somebody like Murcheson or Percy?”

  “Because he’s an FBI agent working undercover on something that I’m not so sure I want to know about,” Queen Esther said solemnly.

  She wanted her Bible and wished she had been more diligent in studying the Scriptures. This was a time when she needed a word from the Lord to just come to her without her having to search the Bible for it. Folks just didn’t know how important that was. Queen Esther made a silent promise to herself right then to start learning the Word cover to cover, by memory. She didn’t want to be in this position ever again.

  “How’d you know, Miss Queen Esther?” Denzelle asked, just as the Lord planted the answer in his heart.

  Lamont Green kept telling him that his aunt had a special connection with the Lord, and always joked that he knew she could call God up and tell Him what she wanted because his aunt Queen Esther was probably the only person in Durham with God’s private phone number.

  “Baby,” she began, “that big portable telephone for one thing, that ugly black briefcase for another. You’re not a drug dealer. I know you think that briefcase is ugly, and wouldn’t have it if it had not been issued to you. So the only thing you could be is a cop. But you are way too smooth and fancy to work for the local police. So the only other thing I could come up with was the FBI—especially after you started running your grown self up to the D.C. area and it wasn’t to chase some tail.”

  Denzelle blushed and then started laughing. Miss Queen Esther had hit that nail square on the head.

  “Now see there, Queen, why you all up in this boy’s business. He a man and can go wherever he wants to and when he wants to. And he young. If he wants to chase some tail, then leave him be.”

  “Joseph, this good reverend right here is a preacher and don’t have no business chasing illegal tail.”

  “Illegal?” Denzelle asked, wondering what was so illegal about chasing something unless you were trying to sneak and steal it from someone else.

  “Yep, il-lee-gul. You married, Rev. Flowers?”

  “You know I’m not married, Miss Queen Esther. Don’t even ha
ve a steady girlfriend right now.”

  “So you know better than to go around here fornicating like it’s going out of style—especially seeing that you a preacher and all,” she told him. “I mean, I just have not found any Scriptures in the Bible that let you off the hook on that one. And the Lord just doesn’t seem to care that you a young man in your prime with a high-powered nature. He said no and He meant it. And if He said no, He had a very good reason that will be a blessing to us if we let it.”

  A blessing? Denzelle couldn’t imagine how blessed he’d feel if he purposefully walked around without the ability to get some good loving when he needed it. He searched for words but couldn’t find any. How could he find a loophole that would let him off the hook? Denzelle knew there really wasn’t one—not if he adhered to the standards set by the Book his day job as a pastor was based on. But being the smooth player that he was, Rev. Denzelle Flowers sure was going to try.

  “Miss Queen Esther, I’m a man, a young man, and while I ascribe to a life in the spirit, I’m walking around on this Earth as a flesh-and-blood man.”

  Weak, Joseph thought to himself. Pitiful and weak. He braced himself for what was going to come out of his wife’s mouth. He hoped her newest favorite statement about the Word being a double-edged sword didn’t slice up the young reverend too bad. He liked Denzelle and would hate to see the boy’s budding ministry suddenly crippled by one of Queen’s “Thus sayeth the Lords”.

  “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was made flesh,” Queen Esther stated. “I don’t recollect from reading the four Gospels that Jesus was playing mind games with Himself over living a spiritual life while being on Earth in the flesh. And you know, I don’t think Jesus was ugly, puny, nerdy, goofy, or in general undesirable or unattractive to those little hoochie mamas running around Nazareth, Gilead, Jerusalem, and the rest of the Bible-days hood trying to be cute. I’d say it was just the opposite. But since Jesus knew and was the Word, He was cool with God telling Him no.”