Jesus Boy. Preston L. Allen
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Sister McGowan had always liked Peachie, and perhaps that was the problem. She had missed Peachie’s sneaky side. The girl had seemed to like Sister Parker’s boy, Elwyn. Perhaps she had only pretended so that Sister McGowan would let her guard down and leave her alone with Barry. And she had left them alone together too often. Barry had denied it, but she believed they had enacted their carnal union a few times right here in this house behind her back.
What a shame it was for her to lose a son this way, especially after her own experience with Barry’s father, Dr. Leibnitz, her choir director at the University of Miami, who used her for his own pleasure and then abandoned her. Dr. Leibnitz had had that same sneaky look, as he praised her for being the first black girl to sing lead soprano in the school’s world-famous chorus, as he held her hand, as he touched the small of her back. It was right on his face all the time, but she had missed it back then too. It was the late ’50s. She chided herself for always being too easy, too trusting—and now her son was stuck with this girl. Sister McGowan felt like crying, but she held up.
When the girl’s rambling quieted, Sister McGowan said, “You’re such a pretty girl. I see why Barry fell in love with you. I was worried you were too young, but I see you’re smart. Barry needs a smart woman to watch over him. He can’t do it without you. You must help him build his ministry. You go up there, Peachie, and you play that piano just like I taught you. In time, you’ll come to love him.”
“But I do love him,” Peachie replied. “I don’t think he’s happy. I thought we would be happy if we did the right thing.”
“But did you do the right thing? Girls nowadays are so smart. They do it, and they never get pregnant. So when they get pregnant, you have to wonder why they didn’t do something not to get pregnant.”
“What could I have done?”
“You don’t know?”
“Well, after we would do it, then I would stand up and shake … you know—”
“My Lord, you’re just like I was. They never teach us anything. We have to learn the hard way.” Sister McGowan dabbed at the girl’s tears with the tissue and started to hate her a little less. “You’re married and you should be happy. You deserve to be happy, you poor thing.”
Peachie sobbed, “My husband doesn’t love me.”
“He loves you, I’m sure, but he’s angry too because you got pregnant and made him look bad in front of the others. He’s a good boy. He’s always done the right thing. He wouldn’t be with you if he didn’t love you.” She brushed back a strand of the girl’s hair, which had fallen across her face. She really was a pretty girl. At least their children would be pretty. “Stand behind your husband. Show him that you are a good wife. You go up there to Lakeland and help our boy build that church and everything will work out just fine, okay?”
“I will.”
There was a sound from outside.
Sister McGowan whispered, “I’ll bet you it’s Barry and Brother Philip with their ears pressed to the door.” A mischievous twinkle came into her eyes. “Let’s give them something to talk about. You put on one of my housecoats and you and me’ll go have some fun.”
“To eat?”
“Yes.”
“Egg salad.”
“You like my special egg salad.”
“There’s still some left in the fridge,” said Peachie, warming to the idea. “And we need some ice cream.”
“We have vanilla.”
“What about licorice-flavored?”
“I don’t have that,” Sister McGowan said, adjusting the sash on her housecoat, “but we could go get some. The Dairy Queen is open all night.”
So Peachie and her mother-in-law, decked out in housecoats and slippers, opened the bedroom door and strode without a word through the living room to the front door, past Barry and Brother Philip, who could only sit quietly mystified as the car engine fired up outside.
When they returned home an hour later, Peachie found Barry awake with the lights on. She removed his mother’s housecoat and sat on the bed. He was ready to listen to her now. She said, “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. We need to be there for each other. If we’re there for each other, no one can come between us.”
“I’ll be there for you.”
“I’ll be there for you, Barry.” He took her in his arms.
She said, “These are real vows this time.”
“I was ashamed.”
“I had no bridesmaids.”
“Your dress was ugly. I hated it.”
“It didn’t hide my stomach at all. I never want to see those ugly old pictures.”
“One day, after you have the baby, we’ll have another ceremony and we’ll take better pictures,” he said, passing his hand through the arm holes of her full slip. He caressed her fat breasts, which used to be such little things. “You will wear white,” he said, moving his hand down over the rise of her abdomen and into her panties.
“Only virgins wear white.”
“You’ll always be a virgin to me.”
“Mmmm. It feels good in there, baby. You always know how to make me feel good.”
“Shhh, baby. Don’t talk dirty.”
“It is such a pleasure to be married to you. It is like the Song of Solomon being with you.”
Peachie shifted out of her clothes. They made sweet love this time and Peachie slept contentedly.
In the morning, as soon as Sister McGowan could get Barry alone, she scolded, “You’d better watch that girl, you hear me? I don’t know why you took up with her in the first place. I don’t trust her one bit. She’s a skinny, little nothing.”
Barry nodded.
He read from the Book of Daniel, then got down on his knees to pray, but there was a knock on his bedroom door and he looked up as his mother stuck her head in: Sister Morrisohn’s on the line.
Elwyn unclasped his hands and picked up the phone. He took a deep breath. He was still kneeling.
Sister Morrisohn said, Can you talk? No, he answered.
Can you listen? You can at least listen.
He rested his head on the bed and said to himself, Heavenly Father, what did I get myself into?
You missed church. You never miss church, she said. I’m putting myself in your place now. I see that you’re not ready for this.