Dusk was falling on Carington. Lights slowly lit up the quaint little town as children wandered home for dinner, fathers plopped down into recliners and mothers bustled around kitchens. Cornbread Corner was serving chicken and dumplings and the cars parked out front signified there was a crowd tonight. One of the streetlights hummed as it tried to turn itself on and crickets began their evening symphony.
From Carington Heights church, a rainbow prism overflowed from the lit stained glass windows and spilled onto the street. As the women gathered for their weekly prayer meeting, the dank halls of the church became alive with chattering voices.
The first to arrive, Tootsie huffed and puffed as she strategically arranged chairs around the table. Mertis hesitantly entered the room and quietly placed her Bible upon the table.
“Well how you doing Mertis?” Tootsie asked, as she stopped to catch her breath. “I swear, I am going to have a talk with Pastor Foster about these kids. Why is it that they cannot replace these chairs like they found them? Every Tuesday I have to come in here and put this whole room in order. The teens need to find another night to meet on. Anyway, from the sounds of the music I hear coming out of this building, I think they are conjuring up the devil himself. Rock and roll, hippity hop, chanting. I never heard the likes when I was a kid. Bringing in the Sheaths always brought in the Lord for us. Don’t know how that head bopping music they play, can bring in anything, except trouble.”
Mertis sat down and closed her eyes. The old church brought back good memories. She drew comfort from the familiar smells of paste, tempera paint and Spic N Span. The cracked old linoleum had been washed so many times, it edges had curled up along the baseboards and the dim florescent lights flickered, as they cast an artificial light on the crayoned pictures, thumb-tacked to the paneled walls.
“Mertis, hello honey. You still with us?” Tootsie asked, as she placed a large platter of brownies on the table. “Didn’t know if you were praying to the Lord or doing that new fangled meditation. You know they say that is of the devil.”
Mertis shook her head, her dull blue eyes, misting over. “I was just remembering back to when we were kids and the church held that fundraiser for this old linoleum. Do you remember? Where have the years gone?”
She was interrupted as the women converged on the two of them. Greetings were exchanged and coffee cups filled, in anticipation of the meeting. The only one missing was Josey. As Glenda Jackson passed around the sign up sheet, everyone drug out their notebooks and pens, filled their plates with goodies and caught up on the local news.
Josey took a final drag of her cigarette as she raced into the parking lot. Late again. She stomped on the cigarette butt, slammed the car door, jammed her Bible into her tote bag and gave a final smack to her lips. Her heels resounded across the street as she sauntered up the walkway.
“Well hello ladies,” she called, as she made her way to the empty chair at the head of the table. “Tootsie, can you grab me a cup of coffee hon?” she asked, as she pulled a legal pad out of her bag.
She folded her hands and bowed her head and couldn’t help but notice that several of the women had new hairdos and manicured nails, and she knew it hadn’t been done in her shop. Well what goes around, comes around, she thought, as she made it a point to change some of her own shopping habits. She’d be darned if she was going to give them her business, when they didn’t have the decency to spend money at her shop.
“Ladies, let’s start with some silent prayer. Now the good Lord knows we are all gathered here tonight and if He wants something done, He will let us know.”
As the women bowed their heads, their minds were on everything but prayer. Not to mention that not one of them actually knew what a “silent prayer” was. The ambiance of holiness was disrupted as the old air conditioner coughed and a cell phone rang. Josey looked up and her keen eyes spotted Glenda hastily turning her phone off.
“Ladies, how many times have I asked you to turn off those things before you come into the house of the Lord? Just remember, if you can’t give Him a few minutes of your time, then He’ll be too busy for you.”
Glenda gave Josey an evil eye as she placed the phone in her purse. She was bound and determined to talk to Pastor Foster about this rotation deal for the prayer group leaders. Josey was the perfect example she needed, to prove her case as to why not all were called to lead.
Josey waited until she felt the presence of the Lord. Little did she know that the presence she felt, was really a downward draft from the air conditioning vent over her head. Once she felt that gentle whoosh, she knew it was time to begin.
“Who wants to start?” she asked.
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