Matteo Sneak Peak
Summer heat was licking its way all over my body, and throughout the church. The air conditioning had gone out a week ago. It should have been cool and welcoming inside of the dwelling where we prayed weekly. Instead, there was something in the musty air of Mount Ezra Baptist Church that my fourteen-year-old brain couldn’t quite wrap my mind around. It was the typical smells that all churches had, an old aroma mixed in with the perfume of ancient hymnals waiting to be sung. Part of me wondered if some of the smells came from the large, brown timber cross pushed high up onto the church’s back wall.
My mother was in the choir section behind the pastor, singing her heart out. Beside our church’s leader, Reverend Jenkins, were the guest pastors from other ministries, and sister churches.
Revival week was upon us, and I’d been forced on this Wednesday night to come. My siblings were off doing other activities, but my mother had made me come.
The pastor asked us to bow our heads in prayer. A hush came over the praying congregation like a wave at beach, and heads lowered. The only person still looking around was myself and I noted that there were praying grandmother’s with their hands stretched, reaching for our Lord and Savior, praise dancing in place as our church’s preacher spoke. His words were rhythmic in nature, urging us to give it all to God.
I wasn’t alone in not having my eyes closed.
No.
Pastor Justin Jefferson’s eyes seemed to lock with my own, sending a thrilling sensation through my body and straight down to my core. He was young and I thought I’d heard my mother say that he was only twenty-five and already had a rather large following in southern California somewhere.
He winked at me and it caused my mouth to go dry. My breath was caught in my lungs as I finally bowed my head, hoping that when I looked up, his eyes would be elsewhere.
Even with my head down, and my eyes squeezed shut, I knew.
His eyes were staring at me. Poking holes through the fabric of the t-shirt that I wore sporting Sailor Moon and the rest of the sailor scouts. I’d been so excited to find the shirt in Spencer’s, a store my mom hardly ever let me venture into.
I knew what he was doing with those dark brown eyes of his.
He was slowly undressing my very developed fourteen year old body.
Finally, my pastor stopped praying and everyone returned to their seats, the rustle of his robes filling my ears.
Slowly, I rubbed my sweating palms against the jeans I’d worn.
It was then I began to feel slightly dirty and the need to go home and take a shower even though I’d done nothing but sit in the Lord’s house. I had committed no sin but it almost seemed to stain my fingertips like some forbidden and invisible ink.
When the praying had stopped, I chanced looking up but avoided looking at him.
Instead, I found my mother looking for her purse.
The humid air filled my lungs as I took another deep breath. My mom was gathering up her purse and saying goodbye to the other members of the choir. Relief flooded my body as if I’d taken a hit of sweet, delicious, caffeinated Coca Cola whose bubbles always made me feel floaty.
With the service over, my mom made her way down to me and we departed. I chanced looking back through the crowd of church goer.
It was as if my actions had caused a great divide. The crowd parted and I found his eyes on me once again.
A shiver rolled its way down my spine, I gulped and caught onto my mother. She’d looked down at me then.
She smiled, her pearly white teeth showing. “What’d you think of the service tonight?”
We’d parked on side of the street just in front of the church. People were spilling out of the church doors. The night air immediately had my clothes sticking to me.
You need a shower, I thought to myself.
“It was okay?” I remarked getting into the car.
My mom made a fuss of putting on some good music.
She loved God and she loved singing for Him, but she loved some TLC too. The three women began to belt out Waterfalls and we drove away.
As I sank into the seat of the car, I didn’t need to look out the window.
That pastor’s eyes had followed me. I knew that he was watching our car depart and I desperately never wanted to never see him ever again.
Two weeks later, vacation bible school had started. My mother had signed my sister Nora and I up. We’d both grumbled and grumbled.
“I know the two of yall aren’t acting up?” My mother had asked looking at me in her rearview mirror.
“Mom, we’re the only teenagers going to bible school,” I’d crossed my arms.
She’d sighed over the sound of the car’s blinker as we made a left turn. “It’s only for the week. Dad will pick you up. I have shifts at the hospital.”
She’d been a nurse my entire life and I still hated when she worked the night shift in the E.R. at Seattle Mercy Hospital. My mother had stories upon stories about her time in the emergency room that sometimes gave me nightmares. She always gave us the PG-13 version but they still left me shaken.
“I think it’ll be fine,” Nora quipped.
My sister was such a damn square, she never made a wild decision in her young life.
“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes.
“No ma’am,” my mother quirked her eyebrow. “Apologize to your sister.”
Taking a deep breath I mumbled an apology to her. Nora had stuck her tongue out at me before our mom saw.
“You’ll probably be the oldest girls there which means they’ll get you to help out with some things. I love you both and I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”
She’d pulled up to the front of the church. Other kids were going in. We exited our mother’s car, and walked up the steps.
We’d gone down to the basement area and joined the other kids in a circle. Mrs. McIntyre was in a mood and had put on a Veggie Tales movie. Nora and I had groaned but tuned in. My sister, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans had gotten comfy and put her head in my lap as I laid against the brick wall painted with biblical scenes like Noah’s Arc. A rainbow stretched the length of the wall along with different animals that had marched two by two onto ship.
“Hey Rain,” Mrs. McIntyre came over a little later.
“Yes,” I’d looked up from playing with Nora hair that I slowly braided on one side.
I was starting to get better at braids.
“Pastor Justin asked for you. He thought you might like to make some copies on the computer upstairs….”
“Huh?” I thought I might have heard her wrong.
Pastor Justin…
“Yeah, he’s filling in for Reverend Jenkins for a month. He has to have surgery…look can you help out, I’m not that good on those computers.” Mrs. McIntyre’s glasses slipped forward a bit, half moon spectacles.
Nora looked up at me.
My stomach started to roll. My palms felt sweaty.
I didn’t know if I should say no or yes.
Pastor Justin had looked at me in a way that made me uncomfortable.
“Rain?”
Looking around I swallowed. “Yeah?”
“Can you help or not?”
I found myself saying that I could, and Mrs. McIntyre offered me a grateful smile.
“Thanks so much sweetie. I’m going to tell your mom how helpful you are when I see her at choir practice next week.”
My feet felt heavy the entire way up the stairs. The familiar church smells had filtered into my nose and I wondered if God was watching.
Pushing open the door, I found Pastor Justin sitting in a chair behind a desk. Papers were stacked high, with manilla folder in between some here and there. When I stepped in he looked up from his typing.
“Mrs. Mac said you needed some help?” I twisted my hands, wanting to wring them out.
Run, I thought. Leave this place.
Frozen in place, I waited my breath expanding heavily into my lungs.
He stood up then, and I noticed he was wearing a suit. Pastor Justin was tall, up close and smelled like some sort of cheap cologne. He moved behind me and I heard the door click as he locked it into place.
I had on a t-shirt, and goosebumps were now prickling my skin from a combination of the coolness from the new air conditioning and being alone in the presence of a grown man.
Warmth flooded my arm as Pastor Justin rubbed his hand up and down my arm slowly.
“I did need some help,” he whispered in my ear.
The need to scream filled me and my stomach tumbled.
“God is watching, Rain…”
He knew my name.
He had planned this.
“Pretty things like you are born to bring me like me heaven,” he whispered as his hand bit into my shoulder forcing me down to my nose.
Tears slipped from my eyes and I squeezed them shut.
Sometimes, years later I would have nightmares about hearing that man’s fly open for the first time.
Part of me was still stuck in that room at Mount Ezra Baptist Church.
The other half me though, she was young, wild and free.
And she didn’t fucking believe in love or men because they were all the same and in the end, all they did was take.