Read Mama B: A Time to Speak for Free Online Page B

Bible.”
    I patted him on his head. “We gon’ have to fix that problem then, won’t we?”
    I suppose Libby and Peter had already gave Rev. Martin, Jamaal Dukes, and the choir a run of the building because everybody was in place and almost ready to start when I got there.
    Libby and a few other ladies were combing through the padded green pews picking up trash people from their service had left behind and shoving the hymnals back in their slots. I come alongside her on the next row over and helped. Cameron helped, too, until we had walked down every one.
    “Libby, this my great-grandson, Cameron.”
    “So nice to meet you! And how handsome you are! Spittin’ image of Son.”
    “Ain’t he though?” I agreed.
    Cameron shook her hand properly. “Nice to meet you, too.”
    When she walked toward the trash can, Cameron looked up at me and asked, “Who’s Son?”
    Nikki had done took a spot on the very back row, so she couldn’t hear us. Lord knows I wasn’t tryin’ to cause no mess, but the boy had a right to know his peoples. “Son’s your grandfather.”
    “My friend at school, her name is Sierra. She calls her grandfather Paw-Paw. Can I call my grandfather Paw-Paw?”
    “If he lets you, I suppose you could. Would you like to meet him?”
    That boy’s face lit up like somebody told him they was givin’ out free donuts. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
    “I’ll see about makin’ that happen for you, Cameron. Keep that between me and you right now, you hear?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He skipped on back to sit by his mother.
    I overheard Peter telling Rev. Martin how to work the sound system. Then Libby joined them and told Rev. Martin that she and Peter were going home to have lunch. They’d be back later to lock up the church. She said some people from the men’s fellowship team were meeting in the back of the church and could help us if we needed anything, then they left.
    For some reason, Rev. Dukes still hadn’t started the opening prayer by 12:45. Guess he was waitin’ on more people to show up. He had conversations with Angela, talked to Clive on the organ, ran over and said something to his wife, called Rev. Martin over to the side. My goodness—who all he did he have to talk to?
    Pastor Phillips ‘bout worse than Libby when it comes to being exact on time for stuff. He start church right at whatever time he say, whether it’s two people there or twenty. I guess Rev. Dukes starting a little later didn’t hurt nobody, but it sure didn’t set well with me.
    In the meanwhile, I took another good look at First Baptist. Libby and Peter done a good job of keeping the church going. Nice, clean building. Bible studies on Wednesday night. Serving food to the community, helping pregnant teenage girls find couples to adopt babies. They sacrificed a lot to keep this ministry going.
    First Baptist wasn’t really all that much bigger than Mt. Zion. Just the ceilings were higher, tricked the eyes into thinking you were in a big old place when you wasn’t.
           Still waiting for somebody to get us going, I decided I might as well read a few scriptures and get my mind on the Lord. Just in time, too, ‘cause Henrietta flopped her behind down right next to me, wearing her white usher uniform, even though she ain’t served on that auxiliary in years.
    She crossed her arms high on top of her bosom and rocked herself into a frenzy. “It’s going on one o’clock! What he waitin’ on?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Then Henrietta busted out singing, “Jesus getting us ready for that great day.” She clapped and sung it a few more times before Clive picked her up on the organ. Guess he was ready to begin, too.
    Finally, after Henrietta done ran through a whole medley of songs, about fifteen people—mostly women—come waltzing in the church and took the first three rows. None of them members of Mt. Zion.
    Finally, Rev. Dukes got up to the podium and started singing along with the rest of us. He been waitin’ on