Free Second Sunday by Michele Andrea Bowen Page A

but he not a bit more saved than your son,
     Vernine. That is why we all up here arguing like cats stuck outside in a thunderstorm.”
    “Let’s not bring our children into this, Louise Williams,” Vernine said haughtily, “because if we do, we have to discuss your
     children and why they are so fond of that hoochie mama/welfare queen over there.” She gestured toward Sheba, her diamond rings
     and bracelets sparkling with every movement of her hands.
    “Heifer!” MamaLouise said loudly. She really wanted a piece of Vernine Johnson and hoped this dispute would goad her into
     a confrontation.
    “Ignore her, Mama,” Viola grumbled.
    Vernine snatched up her purse, strutted to the door, and flipped the end of her ranch mink back over her shoulder. “Ignoring
     me will be difficult. You see, this very room was remodeled
and
decorated by
me
.”
    “So, what’s your point?” Sheba asked, thinking that Cleavon Johnson couldn’t help but be a jive-time poot-butt with a mama
     like that.
    Vernine didn’t open her mouth, just stormed out the door and slammed it shut as hard as she could.
    At that point, Katie Mae’s grandmother stood up and said, “The devil is so busy in church right now. Y’all get up out of those
     chairs, grab somebody’s hand, and bow your heads.”
    When everybody was up and holding hands, she started praying, “Father, as You can see, we got something on our hands. Now
     You have sent a blessing our way in the form of Rev. George Robert Wilson. Father, let that blessing become manifest in our
     midst by making a way out of no-way for him to become our pastor. Guide us, dear Lord; show us what to do and how to do it.
     In Jesus’ name we pray and claim the victory. Amen.”
    They all stood with heads bowed, hands held, and hearts united in complete silence for a long moment, letting the Holy Spirit
     wash over them, getting rid of all of the devilment that had plagued the meeting moments before. Finally, Katie Mae’s grandmother
     said, “Y’all, I know what we can do. We gone follow Queen Esther’s example. You ladies with husbands who have a say-so in
     who is hired to pastor our church, please ask the Lord to guide you on how to petition your man and let him know what time
     it is.”

VI
    The first woman to make a Queen Esther move on her man was Sylvia, who fixed Melvin Sr. some chitlins, spaghetti, collard
     greens, coleslaw, corn bread, and fresh-squeezed lemonade on a Wednesday night. She took off work that day to get it all done
     by the time Melvin Sr. got home. When he sat down to the delicious-looking meal, he took several mouthfuls and said over and
     over again, “Baby, this a real treat. Chitlins in the middle of the week—a meal fit for a king!”
    “And fixed by
the queen
who’s about to get you straight,” Sylvia thought as she watched Melvin Sr. smack his lips and pile some more chitlins and
     greens on his plate.
    Viola believed that a Queen Esther move required something your man always wanted but secretly felt he didn’t get nearly enough
     of. When she read over the Book of Esther in the Old Testament, what struck her most was that Esther was kind of sexy-like
     and knew how to make the king feel like he was “the man.” So she decided that the most effective thing she could do would
     be to get all perfumed and fixed up at 3:30 A.M. , then awaken Wendell for a “fast romp,” one of his favorite things to do in the wee hours of the morning.
    As Viola later told Nettie, she turned that man every which way but loose, talking some good love talk, and in earnest telling
     her husband, “You know you my daddy, boy.” When Nettie got up off the floor from laughing at her crazy sister, she asked what
     Wendell thought of all of this. Viola said, “Girl, all that boy could do was grin, talkin’ ’bout, ‘Baby, baby, baby, you put
     the exclamation point on the end of the word
good!
’ right before his wore-out tail fell off to sleep.
    “Then, when we