were going to fool those two wise old owls into thinking that they didn’t just knock each other’s socks off. He stopped before opening the bedroom door; glanced back at Terri lying on the bed with her eyes closed and absorbed every drop of the vision. The woman of his dreams was hard to figure out. He shook his head.
“Just when I think we made a connection, you screw it up.”, Chapman whispered to himself.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing baby. I’m going to tend to these meddlesome women,” Chapman exited the bedroom and shut the door behind him. Stopping in the hallway, outside of the door for a minute he then continued down the hall.
“Whew! No sign of the sexual interrogation crew. They must be napping.” His activity in the bedroom gave him the mid-day munchies. He poked his head into the oven to see how the edible Thanksgiving guest was coming along. Looking left, then right, he reached in and tried to free up the darkest piece of turkey skin he could find.
“Ouch! Damn, that bird is hot.” He was sucking on his finger as if he could actually extract the pain out with his mouth. Moving to the wall, Chapman picked up the phone with his non-blistered hand and dialed Thumper and Precious’ number. The phone rang three times before someone picked up.
“Hello...Billy speaking,” sounding out of breath.
“Love machine, what up? Sounds to me like you are practicing the ancient art of oral birth control.”
“Go to hell.” Precious’ voice could be heard in the background beckoning Thumper to come back to the bed.
“Look man, give us about an hour and we will be right over. You know we got to get the kids up and all of that.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
After hanging up the phone, Chapman walked back to the room and peeped in on Terri. She was sound asleep. Then he looked into the guest bedroom and his mother and Ma Black were getting their nap on also.
He was a few things, but mad wasn’t one of them. So he took him a quick shower and donned some decent clothes. Returning to the den with the remote control in hand, he turned on the TV and football seemed to be on every channel, from the Discovery Channel to the Cooking channel.
“Let me check my TV One and see if I can coax some of those video honeys to dance for me.” Chapman finally got to the channel. “Oh snap. Football on TV One, on Thanksgiving day. Who’s playing?” It is Tuskegee University and Alabama State University in the annual Cranberry Bowl.
“What quarter is it? Five minutes left in the second quarter. Good the bands haven’t performed yet. Hell this isn’t FAMU, but it is black college football.” Chapman hopped out of his seat and dashed to the kitchen for a small snack.
“I need to eat something they won’t miss.”
Chapman began lifting the covers on pots, lifting dishtowels covering any pan that just might have some bread pudding, pie or cake in it. He saw a stack of pie shells. Empty pie shells might as well be graham crackers without the sugar. But, next to the stack of pie shells was a pot full of sweet potato pie filling.
“Jack pot! Mama always gives me some anyway, so I might as well get my pie filling up front.”
He had a smile on his face like the Grinch who stole Christmas. He put two heaping spoonfuls of pie filling in a bowl and ate another spoonful for the walk over to the freezer. He pulled a box of vanilla ice cream out of the freezer and covered the filling. Not too much, not too little. Just right! Quickly placing the ice cream back into the freezer, then he poured himself a glass of cold milk and made his way back to the den. Charlie Neal was on the screen with Nate Newton, Eddie Robinson, Jerry Rice and Doug Williams. Nate Newton was reporting the game scores and stats while sounding very much like Bryant Gumble, “Tuskegee 21, Alabama State 7.” Chapman laughed as he looked at Nate on TV.
“Man this is weird. I can remember when Nate’s wardrobe consisted of sweatshirts and coaching shorts. Now look at him, living the dream.”
‘Bama State’s Marching Hornets Band took the field and did their thing. Next up, Tuskegee’s Crimson Piper Band tossed their hat in and fought for the crowd’s favor. As the bands cleared the field and the commentators began to rate the show, Charlie Neal began to talk about how both bands were good, but, he’s partial to Southern’s band. Doug had to pull for Grambling University’s band. Nate with his quick wit, zeroed in on Jerry Rice.
“Jerry, don’t you say a word. Does Mississippi Valley even have a band? Never mind, it’s not important. Now Doug, you know the best thing at Grambling was Eddie Robinson.” Then he turned to young Eddie Robinson former linebacker at ‘Bama State, and the NFL’s Jacksonville, Jaguars and Tennessee, Titans, “Not you Eddie Robinson, the O-riginal Eddie Robinson. Besides the best halftime show in the country is FAMU’s Marching “100", hands down. Tell me I’m lying.”
Chapman was beaming as a result of the comment Nate Newton made. It made him feel good because FAMU’s band was a point of pride for him. To hear someone appreciate the band from the period when he was in it, was a major stroke to his ego. In the middle of his thought, the sound of the doorbell chimed through the house. Jumping to his feet, he dashed to the kitchen to rinse away the evidence before he answered the door.
“Come on in. Hello Precious...Little Billy and Yvette. Have you all been good? You all come on in and make yourselves at home.”
After closing the door behind the Jones clan, he noticed that Terri had made her way out of the bedroom and was in place just in time to greet everyone as they streamed into the living room. Ma Sweet and Ma Black were up from their naps and had resumed the preparation of the bountiful feast. Before they knew it the table was being set for dinner.
Chapman and Thumper were standing outside by the music practice shed. He couldn’t wait to tell Thumper what Nate Newton said on TV One. The thoughts generated by Nate Newton’s appreciative comments cause them to be mentally transported back to their old college days. Standing down on the Patch as Doc Foster, Doc White, and Doc James put them through the grind.
“Dinner time,” announced Ma Black.
Everybody began to move toward the table like cows coming in from the field. No one was in a rush and it almost seemed church like in atmosphere. Chapman directed traffic as Ma Sweet and Ma Black fussed over what they should put on the table first. Finally, everyone was in their place around the table. Ma Sweet looked at her baby with wet eyes and nodded for him to begin the grace. When he joined hands with Terri it seemed as if all ill thoughts faded away. Instructing everyone to join hands, he eased into his Thanksgiving prayer.
“Oh God of all that is, we come to offer thanks for all that you have provided for us this afternoon. We thank you for life, food, family, friendship, love, happiness, and dreams. May we take this time to reconnect with those that mean the most to us and move on to a positive future. Bless Sis and her family, as they travel to another part of this country to commune with their other family. Keep us safe and united, in your son Jesus’ name─Amen.”
The chorus of amen followed Chapman’s as Ma Sweet and Ma Black prepared the traditional first plate of food, for the man of the house. Chapman received his plate and again accepted the full responsibility of what it means to be the first man to receive the first plate. The weight was great, and he felt all of it.
“Now we need a Bible verse from everybody,” Chapman requested.
The
