by E. N. Joy
“Reggie, you are crazy. I see why your wife loves you so much. You are like her husband and best girlfriend all rolled into one. No offense.” Hannah knew how many times Reggie had been mistaken for gay.
“None taken. Just like you, vanilla swirl, being able to pass in two different worlds has its advantages. Half my income comes from the gay community because they think they are supporting one of their own. They think I’m one of them down-low brothas or something—Along with all these other people who judge me from the outside looking in.”
“Does that bother you?” Hannah got serious for a moment. “Being judged by people from only what they see on the outside?”
“Not really . . . Well, yeah, sometimes I guess,” Reggie confessed. “I get discriminated against by people who are homophobic or by the so-called Christians who judge me from the outside without getting to know me; without getting to know that I’m a happily married heterosexual man. Instead, they think I’m part of the abomination just because I’m not afraid to show my sensitive side. I grew up the youngest of five with four older sisters. They taught me how to cook, clean and dress coordinated and neat. They also taught me how to fight, so of course I knew how to windmill, honey.” Again the two laughed, then Reggie got serious again. “Even the elders at the church I grew up in used to warn my mother that they felt I had a little sugar in my tank. That’s why I stopped going to church in the first place.” Reggie was silent for a moment.
“You okay?” Hannah asked.
“Yeah. I was just sitting here thinking. All the whispering the church did about me; if I did have a homosexual spirit in me, not one of them ever brought me up to that altar and tried to pray it out of me or help me get delivered from it. They never laid hands on me and rebuked the spirit. Imagine if the church wasn’t so quick to act like their minister of music or deacon wasn’t gay and had the holy boldness to rebuke it. Kids wouldn’t have to grow up subjected to the prospect of going to hell or the awful discrimination—especially the black ones. I mean, we’re already discriminated against for our skin color. Why add something else on top of that, like being gay?”
“Wow, that’s deep,” Hannah said.
“Yeah, well. It’s nothing like what you and Sarah Jane had to go through, I’m sure,” Reggie said, referring to the little girl in the movie Imitation of Life.
“You know what, Reggie? You stupid and I gotta go. I gotta get ready for my date with Drake.
“All right, Tootsie Roll, I’ll holler.” Reggie hung up the phone, deciding not to call Hannah on her reference to her and Drake’s meeting as a date, since she had been so adamant about describing their communications as just business.
Yeah, it’s business for Hannah all right, Reggie thought. She was making it her business to finally pay back Elkan for his affair by having one of her own.
Chapter 27
“Don’t even ask,” Dawson said before Locksie could say a word. He had just come from the living room, where he had slept on the couch and flopped into his bed, knowing Locksie was no longer in it, but getting ready for church. It was too hard for Dawson to sleep in the bed with Locksie without trying to get some. On a couple of occasions, he had convinced her to do some other intimate things that brought him to that same climax, but lately his body was craving more; it was craving the real thing. He couldn’t wait until Locksie got off of this religious kick so that things between them could get back to normal.
“I didn’t even say anything,” Locksie replied as she put on her earrings.
“Yeah, but you were going to. Every Sunday you ask will I go to your aunt’s church with you, and every Sunday I decline.”
“I wasn’t even going to ask you to go to Aunt Mary’s church, so now.” Locksie playfully stuck out her tongue. “I was going to ask you to go visit this other church with me.”
“See, there you go.” Dawson chuckled, pulling the covers over his head.
“Come on, D . . . Okay, how about you just come to the play afterwards with me?”
Dawson peeped his head from under the cover. “Is Madea going to be in it?”
“Dawson!”
“Then nope.” He covered his head again.
“All right, be that way,” Locksie said, stomping off into the bathroom. “You can hide from me under those covers all you want, but God will be the first to pull the covers off of you.”
Dawson slowly slid the cover halfway down his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Locksie shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve just heard the pastor say it a couple times.
Dawson sucked his teeth. “See, you don’t even understand half of that ‘thee, thousest and sayeth’ crap and you want to drag me into it. No thanks.” Once again, Dawson was hidden under the cover.
“And hurry up back home.” Locksie heard his muffled voice. “It gets lonely without you,” he teased as a last ditch effort.
Locksie smiled and shook her head. She had to admit, as eager as she was to get to church, a part of her was just as eager to return home to her man.
“Oh, welcome, my sister,” the greeter at the church door said to Locksie while embracing her with a warm hug.
“Thank you,” Locksie said, returning the embrace. At first she was a little thrown off. The greeters at her aunt Mary’s church had never once made her feel that welcome.
“Can I have a program?” Locksie asked the woman.
“Oh, baby,” the woman said, “we used to pass out programs, but not anymore. We learned that it was a waste of paper because service never went how it appeared in the program. The Holy Spirit runs this show.” She smiled and passed Locksie onto the arms of the usher, who greeted her with an even tighter and more loving hug.
“Welcome to God’s house,” the usher said. “Do you like to sit in the front, middle or back?”
“Anywhere is fine,” Locksie informed him. At her aunt’s church, the ushers just sat her where they wanted to. But this church obviously realized that no matter where the sheep sat, they would be able to hear the shepherd’s voice.
“Good morning, sister. Oooh, I just love you,” the little old lady the usher had led her to sit by greeted Locksie.
Although Locksie had never seen this woman a day in her life, when she told her that she loved her, Locksie believed her. She believed her because she felt it in her heart. “I love you too,” Locksie replied from a place in her heart that she didn’t even know existed; a place that had love for strangers.
With Naomi being white, Locksie had just assumed that the church was going to be filled with white people, but it was just the opposite. There were people of all races and nationalities there; predominantly black, but still enough of a mixture to make a rainbow.
“Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place.” The church began to sing at 11:00 A.M. prompt, the time service was scheduled to begin. During the song, folks still continued to file in, being greeted by the loving and serene tune. The spirit realm in the atmosphere was so thick that no one noticed the latecomers being ushered in, and they weren’t disturbed and bothered by them.
As the words to the song Locksie had never even heard before began to fall from her lips as if she had written the lyrics and melody herself, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked up to see Naomi smiling. Just that quickly, Locksie had forgotten all about the fact that this was Naomi’s church and she probably should have been looking to sit with her. But as far as Locksie was concerned, it was God’s church, and she felt right at home in her Father’s house.
After the song ended, morning prayer was said by one of the church leaders, there was a scripture reading, and then visitors were welcomed and asked to stand and have words. There were about ten visitors in all, and Locksie’s turn to speak was last. As a child, Locksie had always dreaded this part of visiting a new church, having to stand and speak, but not today. She felt as if she was amongst long lost family members that she had been in search of all her life, and she couldn’t wait to introduce herself to them.
“My name is Locksie, and I was invited by Naomi.” She pointed to Naomi. “But I’m here visiting the Lord.”
“Amen! Hallelujah,” members said.
“Well, it’s an honor to have you all here this morning,” the leader, who was a middle-aged black man, stated. “I just love it when folks invite their friends to come get the Word. After all, when we were in the world, we didn’t have no problem calling up all of our homeboys and homegirls talkin’ ’bout, ‘Meet me at the club, partner, and I’ll pay your way in.’ ”
There were a few chuckles.
“Now, don’t get religious up in here on me now. All y’all who ain’t been saved all your life know what I’m talking about. Well, if we did all that for the devil, then we should be able to outdo ourselves for the Lord. Amen?”
“Amen,” some shouted.
“On Saturday night, the same way y’all used to call up Quita, Becky, Maria, Tom, Pedro and Rayshawn and dem, y’all need to be calling ’em up inviting them out to church. Tell ’em to meet me at the church—it’s going down.” The younger members laughed at how the older gentleman had taken one of their hip-hop lyrics and flipped the script with it. “And to make it sound even better, make sure you tell them that there ain’t even no cover charge to get up in here because the price has already been paid!”
Most of the congregation stood to their feet and gave up some hand praise.
“That’s right,” the gentleman continued. “The price has already been paid by the blood of Jesus. And tell ’em if they thirsty for the Word, drinks are on the house!”
Now the entire congregation was on their feet, and tears were even flowing from many eyes.
“Thank you, Jesus!” Naomi said. “You did it for me. You paid that price for me. You didn’t have to do it, but you did.”
Locksie wiped escaped tears after watching Naomi and hearing her words. Naomi had said them as if there was something about her life that she had been brought through that nobody knew about but Jesus. There was such intimacy in her tone. Locksie wanted that. She looked at Naomi and wanted in her heart for Christ what Naomi had in hers. Locksie wanted it, and she felt in her spirit that right there at that church was where she could get it.
It was Locksie’s staring at Naomi that jarred her memory back to where she recognized her from. She was that same woman Locksie had met in the parking lot of Macy’s a few months ago, who had asked her if she was saved. Now, once again, God had placed Naomi in her path again. Locksie was convinced that there was no such thing as coincidence in life. God wanted her to connect with Naomi, and He made sure that it happened. Perhaps God even had something to do with Naomi knowing Locksie’s name before she had even told her what it was. Locksie reminded herself to ask Naomi about that before the day was out.
By the time Locksie made it back home Sunday night, Dawson was nowhere to be found. She felt so bad. It was after ten o’clock. She had lost track of time and hadn’t thought twice about calling Dawson to tell him that she would be home late and that he should probably go ahead and grab himself something for dinner.
After church, Locksie had lunch with Naomi before she had to head back to the church to set up for the play. Since Locksie would only have about forty-five minutes to spare, she decided to go back to the church, but instead of waiting inside, she sat in her car in the church parking lot, talking to Mary on her cell phone, going on and on about her beautiful experience at Naomi’s church. Mary didn’t have too much to say, but then again, Locksie was talking ninety miles per hour, not really giving her a chance to get a word in edgewise. Before Locksie knew it, it was time for the play to start.
Locksie couldn’t believe that Naomi was responsible for such a wonderfully orchestrated and anointed production. Deliverance took place during the play, and souls were saved afterwards when the pastor allowed Naomi to have words and invite audience members who had not yet dedicated their lives to Christ to do so. Many of the souls saved were young ones. Locksie had watched in awe as Naomi used the power God had given her and had instructed her to use that night.
Afterwards, when people came forth and began to give Naomi praises, just like Mary would do, she humbly said, “All glory be to God!” She wouldn’t say thank you or take credit for anything. Her eyes would just gleam at the thought of what her Father had just done with such a vessel. Locksie knew right then and there that she wanted to follow Naomi. She wanted to follow her to the throne of the God that she worshiped.
Before heading home, Locksie had a question for Naomi. “How was it that you knew my name before I ever told you?”
Naomi smiled. “I was wondering if you had figured that out yet or if you were ever going to ask me.”
“Well?” Locksie waited curiously.
“You used your charge card. Your name was on it.” Both women laughed. “See, sometimes God makes stuff real easy for us.”
“I suppose He does, doesn’t He?”
“By the way, how did you get a name like Locksie?” Naomi inquired.
“My mother named me that. She said that when I was born and the doctor handed me to her for the first time, when she looked down, all she saw was jet-black, curly locks of hair, so she named me Locksie.”
“Well, it’s original, and it fits you just fine.”
Before saying good-bye, Naomi reminded Locksie that the doors to the church were always open and that she was welcome to come anytime she wanted. That went without saying for Locksie because she had every intention of returning to that same church the coming Sunday and as many Sundays as God would allow. Heck, Locksie figured she could even wear as much Mary Kay make-up as she wanted to this church. She could do so without one person looking at her cross-eyed. She felt that the folks at this church had their eyes on the Lord instead of each other. As far as Locksie was concerned, she had possibly found her church home, and with all the weekly programs and ministries they offered, it could very well become her second home.
Speaking of home, Locksie was surprised that Dawson wasn’t there. It was late, and he had work the next day. It was unusual for Dawson to be out this late on a Sunday night. She couldn’t help but wonder where he could be.
Chapter 28
“All I know is that at least that heifer is out of my hair,” Hannah said as she sat in the salon chair while Locksie flat-ironed her hair.
“Well, I know you are glad. You haven’t stopped talking about it since you walked in the door,” Locksie said.
Locksie was happy that Hannah had finally returned her phone calls and accepted her apology for the terrible way she had acted and for the accusations she had made about her cheating on her husband. Actually, Locksie never really gave an official apology. Hannah just called her up and made nice. From what Locksie could tell from the conversation, Hannah still had no idea just what incident Locksie had been referencing when she accused her of cheating, so Locksie didn’t even bring up the fact that she saw Hannah with Drake that night at the Hilton. She was just grateful that they were on speaking terms again; even though she wasn’t one hundred percent certain that Hannah really wanted to make amends, or if she just wanted someone to gossip to. Nonetheless, Locksie had to worry about being delivered from her own sins before she worried about ministering to somebody else about theirs.
How Locksie saw things, it was just like the stewardess’s instructions on an aircraft, when she tells the passengers that if they’re in an emergency and they need to put on their oxygen mask, to put on their own first before trying to help somebody else get theirs on.
Hannah, on the other hand, was feeling brand new and excited about the fact that perhaps the thorn in her side, that baby’s momma of her husband’s, had possibly turned her attention away from making Hannah’s life miserable to making someone else’s life miserable. Hannah was on cloud nine.
“Can you re-do that piece right here?” Hannah asked, grabbing a lock of her hair that didn’t appear to be as straight as the others.
Locksie took a step back
and eyeballed Hannah up and down. “Excuse me? I wasn’t finished yet. Now, how long have I been doing your hair? You know I always go back over it if I see a hair out of place.” Locksie playfully popped Hannah on the head with the comb.
“Sorry, girl, I know . . . it’s just that . . .” At that moment, Hannah decided against telling Locksie why it was that she was so concerned about making sure a hair was not out of place. Her friend had already accused her of the unspeakable act of adultery once. She didn’t want to give Locksie the wrong idea by mentioning that she was on her way to meet a man other than her husband and wanted to look her best.
“It’s just that what?” Locksie asked. Before Hannah could reply, the salon phone rang. “Excuse me for a minute.” Locksie took the call while Hannah sat in the chair, admiring herself.
Hanna looked down at her watch and saw that it was 2:40 P.M. She was supposed to meet Drake at 3:00 P.M. She had lost track of time, running off at the mouth about Peni and the mysterious man she had seen her with in the car. The man had obviously been keeping Peni occupied because she hadn’t been bugging Hannah or Elkan half as much.
Hannah had made a mental note a long time ago that whenever she was in a hurry, she wouldn’t hold a juicy discussion with Locksie because sometimes Locksie would get so engrossed in the conversation that she would stop doing Hannah’s hair to listen intensely or add her own two cents.
“Look, I gotta go,” Hannah said, rising up out of the chair as she pulled off her cape.
“But I didn’t get to go back through your hair,” Locksie said as she walked back over after hanging up the phone.
“I know, girl. It’s okay, though.” Hannah grabbed her purse and pulled a fifty-dollar bill out and then handed it to Locksie. “Keep the change.”
Locksie watched as her friend darted out of the salon as if it were on fire. Little did Locksie know, there was a firing burning all right, but it wasn’t in the salon.