by K. T. Richey
The next morning Misha awoke refreshed. It was the first night in a long time she slept so peacefully. She walked into the bathroom to shower before preparing for church. She noticed she had not bled all night. The bleeding had stopped. She checked on herself before leaving for church, no blood.
She went to church and preached like she had never preached before. Her grandmother was so proud of her. She sat back in the amen corner like the queen mother she was. Misha was filled with the Holy Ghost. She began to prophecy like never before.
Tell Pastor Smith to stand and do as I instruct you.
She called out Pastor Smith and began to do everything she heard in her spirit to do. She spoke to him with authority and ministered to him about church growth.
“Hold out your hands,” she asked and he complied. She placed her hands on top of his. “God is giving you new hands to heal.” She removed her hands and used them to wipe the sweat from her forehead. Then she wiped Pastor Smith’s forehead. His body dropped to the floor.
After service, people rushed to talk with Misha. After the small crowd left a man walked up to her. Misha looked at him dressed in a mustard-colored suit talking to her with much seriousness.
“Minister Holloway, I don’t really know any other way but to just say this.” The man swallowed. “When you were preaching, the Lord spoke to me and told me you were my wife. I think we should get together and talk about it.”
“The Lord told you that?” Misha smiled.
“Yes, He did.”
“What’s your name?”
“Alonzo Stephon Black. Can I call you?”
“Brother Black. It is a pleasure meeting you. However, if the Lord said you were my husband, He would have to tell me too.”
“The Bible says the man finds a wife.”
“Well, brother, it also says that the woman chooses her husband. You pray about that and ask God for direction. He will let you know what to do.”
Misha walked away from him and took her grandmother by the arm and began walking toward the door. An usher ran toward them with an envelope. She handed Misha the envelope. Misha knew it was money for preaching.
Give it back. Sow it into the building fund.
She was obedient and gave the envelope back and told the usher to put it in the building fund.
She and her grandmother left the church and went to a buffet restaurant for dinner. While they sat at the table eating and enjoying each other’s company a man walked up to them.
“Excuse me, aren’t you Minister Holloway?”
“Yes, that’s me.” Misha set her fork on her plate and quickly swallowed the food in her mouth.
“Hi, I’m Lamont Stokes. I was at church this morning visiting my aunt and I heard you preach. Girl, you turned it out.” The man jumped up in the air. Misha tried hard not to laugh at his comical reaction. “I’m sorry, Minister Holloway. I didn’t mean to call you girl.”
“That’s okay. I’m glad you enjoyed the service.”
“I did. Girl, you know, I’m going to marry you one day. Yes, I am. We are going to get married. I saw it when you were preaching. I told my aunt that was my wife up there. She said you were good people. She said you was smart and you was a teacher.”
“I am a teacher. What did you say your name was again?”
“Lamont Stokes.”
“Well, Mr. Stokes, I’m glad you enjoyed the message. I don’t think I’m your type but I appreciate the compliment.”
“Can I get your number? Maybe we can go out sometimes or we can go to church or something.”
“Thank you for the offer. I’m sort of seeing someone right now. But you keep praying about that okay? It was good talking to you. I’ve got to get my grandmother home. She’s tired.”
“Yeah, wo’e out,” her grandmother said.
“Well, I don’t want to take up your time. I’ll talk to you later.”
When the man left the table, Misha released her laugh. Her grandmother joined her. “I must have preached this morning. I got two husbands out of that one. People don’t think men approach women ministers just like women approach men. I’m your husband . . . I’m your wife. Don’t they know it’s not me they are attracted to but the anointing?” She shook her head and took another bite of her banana pudding.
Her grandmother sat patiently, waiting for Misha to finish her food. “Are you finished?” Misha asked her.
“I’m done. When we get to the car, you can tell me about the guy you seeing.” She screamed with laughter.
Both of them continued to laugh about Misha’s husbands all the way home. Misha shared with her grandmother the miracle of her fast and prayer the day before. She told her grandmother the bleeding had stopped.
“God getting you ready for Matthew,” her grandmother said.
“I hope he shows up soon. I’m ready. I am so ready.”
Chapter 20
March came in like a roaring lion. A freak Southern snow and ice storm roared through Atlanta, giving Misha some much desired time off of work. The entire city was shut down for two days until the one inch of snow and ice melted on the roads.
Misha walked into her classroom, prepared to give her students their midterm exams she made multiple choice not for them, but for her. It was easier and faster to grade than essay questions. She was trying to make everything easier now. She had to study for her own midterm exams in her classes at Clark.
There was a small gift box on her desk wrapped with a large blue bow. She knew who it was from. It was not her birthday and only one person gave her gifts at work. She opened the box. Inside were two tickets to a gospel concert at the Civic Center. Misha was tempted. She loved Marvin Sapp and LaShun Pace. She could not accept those tickets. Misha turned to leave her class when she noticed Mr. Heckler leaning against the door. He startled her. “Wow, you’re like a cat, sneaking up on me. Don’t do that again.”
He smiled as he walked into the room. “Well, what time can I pick you up?”
“Thanks for the offer. Looks like a good concert but I can’t go.” She handed him the box with the tickets inside.
“It’s a gospel concert. Roger said you would like it.”
“Please don’t tell me anything Roger said. Besides, you know my policy: no dating coworkers. I’ve given you back everything you’ve given me, even the food. Please don’t give me anything else. I’m not going out with you now or ever.”
Mr. Heckler threw his arms out. “You don’t have to sound like that. I thought it would be nice to hang out with you. I don’t even know who these people are. I thought you would like it. I was thinking about you.”
“Mr. Heckler, school is about to start. I’m going to ask you nicely not to send me any more gifts. It’s inappropriate. Besides, I’ll be married soon and I don’t think my husband would like me accepting gifts from men.”
“You’re getting married?”
“Yes. His name is Matthew. He’s a terrific guy. You’ll have to meet him one day.” Misha said with a deceptive crooked smile.
“Oh. No one said anything.”
“That’s because I don’t tell everybody my business.” Misha walked around her desk and sat down. “Now, Mr. Heckler, if you will excuse me, I have work to do.” He left the classroom.
Heckler gave her the creeps. She hoped he got the message that time. She felt uneasiness in her spirit. She felt weak. She leaned against her desk trying to gain her composure. She knew that feeling. It was the same feeling she got each time someone in her family was about to die. She felt it when her grandfather and her great aunt passed away. She began to pray.
Later that day as she was sitting at her table in her apartment her phone rang. It was her mother. She let out a long sigh as she reluctantly picked up the phone.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Has anybody called you?”
Misha knew that tone. She was going to say something bad. She stopped grading her papers and sat back. “Called me about what?”
“Aunt Lorna died
this morning. They want you to read a scripture at the funeral.”
A sense of relief came over Misha. Not that she was happy her aunt died, it was the fact that it wasn’t someone close to her like her brother or grandmother. She didn’t know if she could take news like that. Her Aunt Lorna was over ninety. She was her grandfather’s sister. She had been in a nursing home since she had a stroke last year.
“When is the funeral?”
“Thursday. They want you to read the twenty-third psalm.”
“I’ll have to get off of work. I’ll let you know tomorrow. Has anyone called Grandma?”
“Yes. She called me after they called her.”
“Well, I’ll have to call her and see how she’s doing.”
Misha pressed the end button and then punched in her grandmother’s number. Aunt Lorna and her grandmother were close. They talked every day until the stroke left her aunt unable to speak.
“Hey, Grandma. Mama just told me Aunt Lorna died. I called to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine. Getting ready to go to bed.”
“Well, I’m not going to hold you. You need anything? I’ll be by your house tomorrow.”
“Call first. Paul taking me over to the house. Don’t know when we get back.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll call you first. I love you.”
“I love you too. Good night.”
Misha hung up the phone and released a long sigh. She wished she could be as strong as her grandmother. Memories of going to her Aunt Lorna’s house with her grandmother when she was a child flooded her mind. Aunt Lorna always had pound cake waiting for company. Misha remembered her loud laugh and the conversations the grown-ups would have, and how scared she was to ask any questions. They talked for hours about the old days. There was always loud laughter whenever those two got together.
Leaning back on the sofa, thinking about the many times her Uncle Woodrow, Aunt Lorna’s husband, would take her outside to ride the old bike with the shaky wheels they had in the broken-down garage in the back of the house, Misha smiled. Once when she fell off the bike, she watched as the two ladies jumped on Uncle Woodrow for letting her ride that old bike. They nursed her wounds and, as always, Aunt Lorna thought her pound cake would cure all diseases. Her smile turned to sorrow when she remembered how her Uncle Woodrow suffered from cancer and died ten years ago. Now her Aunt Lorna was gone. Things were beginning to feel different. There were not many elders left in her family.
She tried to refocus on the papers she was grading. However, she felt a nervous tension come over her. Tired, she rose and entered her bathroom. A nice, hot bubble bath was exactly what she needed.
She continued to feel uneasy as she slipped into the warm water breaking through the large mound of bubbles that were coming from her portable spa she purchased at the department store.
She laid her head back and tried to relax. She closed her eyes and listened to the quiet hum of the portable spa.
When you go to work, take all your personal items home. It’s time for you to leave that job. It will happen suddenly.
Misha quickly opened her eyes and sat up in the tub. “I must be imagining things.” She closed her eyes and relaxed back into the water.
It’s time for you to leave that job.
She sat up again. She could no longer relax. “God, how am I going to pay my bills?” She waited for an answer. Nothing. She only heard the sound of the spa.
After her bath, she attempted to relax by reading a book. Nothing could stop the voice telling her it was time to leave her job. She returned the book to the shelf and eyed the book Judy had given her.
Something about the author’s name caught her attention. She pulled it from the shelf. She stared at the author’s name, M. Bernard Taylor. She tried reading the book on vacation. She couldn’t get past the first chapter. She shook her head and returned the book to the shelf. She pulled out a Maya Angelou autobiography and walked to her bedroom. She stretched out on her bed and began to read. She laughed herself to sleep reading about Ms. Angelou’s adventures with a traveling theatre company.
The next morning she awoke to the loud sound of her alarm clock going off. She rolled over, dreading going to work. She began to pray for strength as she tried to force herself to get up.
When she arrived in her classroom, Mr. Davis greeted her. A sinking feeling came in her stomach when she saw him sitting in her class. “Mr. Davis. I didn’t expect to see you. How are you this morning?”
“I’m well, Ms. Holloway. Can I speak with you for a minute?”
“Sounds serious. What’s up?” She closed the door and sat down sideways in a chair beside him.
“How have you been?”
“I’m okay. My Aunt Lorna died yesterday. By the way, may I have Thursday off? Her funeral is Thursday and they want me to read a scripture during the service.”
“Yes. That’s okay. Be sure to turn in your leave slip so I can sign it.”
“Okay.”
“Tell me. How are you and Roger getting along?”
“Me and Roger? There is no me and Roger. What’s going on now?”
“Somebody said you told them you and Roger were getting married.”
Misha shook her head. She knew where that came from. She only told one person she was getting married: Mr. Heckler. Another liar. Creeps hang out with creeps. Roger and Heckler were scheming to have her fired. “I never told anyone I was going to marry Roger. I did tell someone I was getting married to Matthew.”
“Matthew?”
“Yes, Matthew. I’ve known him for some time. We’re getting married. I only told one person and it was not Roger.”
“This Matthew, is he a real person? What’s his last name?”
“Is he a real person?” Misha could not withhold her laughter. “Are you suggesting I’m making this up?” She continued to laugh until she noticed him staring at her. “Mr. Davis, you can’t be for real. Of course he’s a real person. I’ve known him all my life. He’s a special guy. Wait, you’ll see. He’s a very busy man. I’ll introduce you one day.” She stood up and tried to hold back her laugh. She placed her bags on her desk and turned and watched Mr. Davis try to squeeze his large belly out of the small student seat.
“I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m on rumor control. I look forward to meeting . . . What’s his name again?”
“Matthew. His name is Matthew.”
“Matthew what?”
“Now, Mr. Davis, I don’t want to add to the rumors. Someone may know him and try to interfere with our relationship. You’ll meet him one day. I promise.”
“Well, okay. In the meantime, keep up the good work. Don’t forget to put your leave slip in my box.”
“I won’t. You have a good day.” Mr. Davis left the classroom. “Okay, Matthew, it’s time for you to come. I’ve got to introduce you to Mr. Davis.” She said out loud as she laughed about introducing a man she never met to Mr. Davis. She continued preparing for her class.
Call him.
“What, Lord?”
Call him.
“Who?”
Matthew.
“Call Matthew?” Misha twisted her lips. How in the world was she going to call him when she did not know his phone number or his last name? She shook off the thoughts and began her day.
The voice telling her to call him stayed with her throughout the day. During her planning period, she prayed to God to give her his full name and phone number and she would call him. She promised God she would call him if she had the information.
After work, she drove to her grandmother’s home. She did not call first, so she was glad when her grandmother greeted her at the door. She looked like she had on five layers of clothes and a coat.
“Hi, Grandma. Are you getting ready to go with Uncle Paul?” Misha asked as she entered the house.
“No. Just got back. Ain’t had a chance to take off my coat yet. Sit down whiles I hang up my coat.” She left the room. Misha spotted the kitchen table full of
food.
“Grandma, did you fix all this food by yourself? Do you need me to take it over to the house?”
“That is food from the house,” her grandmother said as she walked into the room wearing a thick sweater, a house dress, and bedroom slippers. “You should have seen all that food over there. Paul gone to the store to get some foil. I can’t eat all this. He gon’ take some home. You want some? Help yourself.”
Misha sat down at the table and began looking at the big plates of chicken, ham, potato salad, green beans, corn, and other assorted vegetables and desserts. She took one of the plates that was filled with fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, green beans, potato salad, and corn and began eating. Her grandmother sat back, watching her enjoy her meal. She looked up briefly from her plate to ask her grandmother how she was doing.
“I’m fine. Lo was sick. God done called her home. She at peace now. I’m at peace with God.” Misha looked up. Her grandmother’s eyes filled with tears. Misha stood and hugged her. She pushed Misha away and quickly wiped her face. “Lo was funny. She could tell a joke like nobody business. Kept us laughing all the time.”
Misha stayed with her grandmother after her Uncle Paul left. She wrapped the remaining food in foil and placed it in the refrigerator. Her grandmother sat in a chair in front of the television watching a Christian television show. Misha took a comb and carefully parted her grandmother’s hair, scratching the scalp like she used to do when she was younger.
Her grandmother began to speak. “It’s time you learnt something,” she said to Misha. She stood and walked into the kitchen. She returned with a small piece of paper slightly hidden by her hands. “Now this is Lo’s secret pound cake recipe. Don’t let nobody see it. Promise.”
Misha was excited. She was being trusted with one of her family’s most highly prized secrets. Her heart beat wildly in anticipation of being let into the inner circle of great cooks. Even her mother did not have the recipe. She held up her right hand and said, “I promise I will not show the secret to anyone.”
Her grandmother reached out, handing her the paper with a wry smile. Misha took the paper and looked at it. Is she for real? “Grandma, is this what I think it is?”