The deep darkness of his skin and the height of his muscular body blocked any further sunlight from passing through the entrance to the sanctuary.  His sudden appearance captured the attention of those sitting in the rear pews.  He stood for a moment surveying the room for the appropriate place to sit.  He slowly came up the center aisle and stopped.  He turned to look down my pew and his eyes locked with my eyes. His intense stare created a chill at the base of my spine that spread through my body like a spider crack in a window pane.  He began to excuse himself as he made his way closer.  His approach made an uncontrollable nervousness creep into the pit of my stomach.  His fixation on my eyes had become his guide.  Once he sat down next to me, the fixation was broken.  His full attention had left me and gone directly to the pulpit.  That concentration was not even broken by my periodic episodes of gazing at him.

The outline of his jaw and the smell of his cologne had destroyed any ability for me to behave with aged intelligence.  In less than a minute, I had reverted back to adolescent behavior created by the sudden appearance of smooth, flawless skin enclosed in a suit that fitted so well.  He was not even the most attractive man I had ever seen.  But there seemed to be some type of aura around him that was having some strange effect on me.  When scriptures were called out, I raced to find them so I could share my Bible.  When songs were sung, I belted them out in an untrained, off-key singing voice.  However, there was no smile or any form of acknowledgment for my girlish efforts. After closing prayer, I was startled by the extension of his hand.  I awkwardly rose to my feet to return the gesture.

“Thank you for sharing.”

There was a baritone richness to his voice.  He waited patiently while I tried to find any voice at all.

“No problem.  Always happy to share.  You have a blessed day.”

His hand shake was gentle yet firm.  His touch had caused the chill that had spread through my body earlier to be resurrected with more intensity.  It took all my strength to let this strong hand go.   For a moment, he stood looking into my eyes.  It was almost like he recognized me, but could not remember exactly from where he knew me.  Without any further words, he turned and began making his way through the crowd.

After the paralysis caused by his touch subsided, I sat down on the church pew and began breaking every rule I had established in my forty plus years as a woman concerning men.  I rapidly grabbed my purse and Bible.  I jumped up and rudely pushed my way through the crowd.  I made my way out of the church into the parking lot.  If there really was such a thing as an out-of-body experience, I was having it now.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute please,” I yelled.

He was marching through the church parking lot like a soldier.  The sound of my voice stopped him cold.  He slowly turned to face me.  I was trying to conceal my lack of breath as I approached him.

“You’re a new visitor to our church.  I just wanted to invite you back again.”

His stone-faced silence made me start to regret what I was doing, but I was unable to stop myself.

“I was thinking maybe if you wanted to discuss the Bible or learn more about what our church has to offer, maybe I could help you with that.  Uh, well, maybe you could call me or I could one Sunday cook an old fashion, Sunday dinner and we could have a little Bible study.  Whatever, is good for you.  I wouldn’t want you to be a one-time only visitor to our church.”

I could not even believe those words actually came out of my mouth.  What was I doing?  I laughed nervously while I extended my address and telephone number on a piece of paper.  Was there no end to this surreal experience?

He took the paper and examined it carefully for a moment.

“Seven-thirty?”

His response caught me off guard.

“What?”

“You said one Sunday.  Today is one Sunday.  Is seven-thirty good?”

“Well, uh, well, uh.”  I was slipping into a state of shock.

“Seven-thirty is fine.”

Without any show of emotion, he turned and continued his march through the church parking lot.  I stood watching him disappear in a sea of automobiles and church folks.

I turned back around and my friend, Barbara, was standing an inch away from my nose.

“Why didn’t you come sit up front with me and Frank?”

“I was so late I just decided to sit in the back with all the crying babies.”

“Grace, who was that man?”

“A new visitor to our church.”

“Did I just hear you invite him to dinner tonight?”

“It did sound like that, didn’t it?”

Frowns began a construction project in Barbara’s forehead.

“What’s his name?”

“I don’t have a clue.”

It was like the calm just before a tornado.  Then it touched down.

“Grace, have you lost your damn mind,” Barbara shouted.

Other church members began to look at us.  I grabbed Barbara by her arms and pulled her even closer to me.

“Barbara, Barbara watch your mouth.  We’re still at the church,” I whispered.

“You invited a perfect stranger to your house tonight and I’m supposed to watch my mouth?  Your mouth is the one with the problem.”

“Barbara, the man just walked out of the church.”

“Grace, the devil will come into the church to pick up a few desperate souls.  Lord Jesus, I cannot believe my girl has just invited a mass murderer over for dinner.  I need some medication right now.  I’m having a stroke.”

Barbara seemed to get weak in her stand. I tried to support her.

“Is Miss Barbara all right?” a voice suddenly said.

Barbara and I turned to see young Terrell standing before us.  I could not hide my amazement of how time had turned little Terrell into a man.  He was still short, but seemed to look more like a man.  He also seemed to be trying to grow a little mustache.

“Look a here, it’s Little Terrell.  Look at you.”

“Miss Barbara are you alright?” Terrell asked again.

“I’m fine, baby.  Just a little overheated,” Barbara explained.

“Terrell, where have you been?” I asked.

“Away at college.  It was my first year, but I’m home now for the summer.”

“That is wonderful.  Isn’t that wonderful, Barbara?”

“Yeah, wonderful.  Where’s your Mama?” Barbara wanted to know.

“She’s over there,” Terrell said pointing in the direction of his mother’s large automobile.

Lorene was wearing one of her classic big Sunday church hats. I could tell by the way she was standing that those high heel shoes she was wearing were preventing any unnecessary walking.  She was leaning on her automobile and waving at us.  Barbara and I smiled and waved back.

“While I have been home this summer, I put Mama’s Brown and Beautiful business on a computer system.”

Terrell handed me and Barbara computer printouts.

“As you can see from the printouts, Miss Barbara, your order has just been submitted.  It should be back at the end of the week.   Sister Grace, your order has come in and you owe Mama $22.50.  Would you like me and Mama to bring your order over tonight?”

“No, no.  Tell your Mama I have to go out-of-town tonight. I’ll be back in a couple of days.   I will get that order from her next Sunday at church.”

“Okay, I’ll tell Mama.  You have a safe trip, Sister Grace.”

“Safe trip?”

“Your trip tonight.”

“Oh, yeah.  Thank you, Terrell.  You’re so sweet.  I’m so glad you’re in college.”

“Thank you, Sister Grace.  See you later, Miss Barbara.”

“Bye Terrell,” Barbara said dryly.

Terrell walked back to his mother and reported his findings.  After hearing his report, Lorene turned and waved to acknowledge.  Barbara and I smiled and waved back.

“Now, why did you tell that boy a big bold-face lie?  We’re still on church grounds.  You know you are not going out-of-town. You’re having dinner with the perfect stranger tonight, remember.”

“I don’t have any money.  I’m dead broke.  Let Lorene think I’m

out-of-town until payday.” I explained.

“You may be less than dead broke before tonight is over.  You may just be dead.”

“Don’t be trying to scare me, Barbara.”

I began walking to my car.  Barbara followed me.

“Grace, listen to me.   I think you’re still grieving over Raymond.  You know he has only been gone a year.  It takes time to get all your senses back.  You may be still a little irrational.  Now, you just let me and Frank come over tonight and when guess who’s coming to dinner gets there, we’ll handle him our way.

“Barbara, stop carrying that Bible around and sit down and read it sometime.”

I got in my automobile and started up the engine.

“Listen, I’m calling you on the hour and on the half hour.  If you don’t answer that phone one time, me and Frank are coming over there for the big beat down.”

I shook my head and put the car in drive.  I could still see Barbara in my rear-view mirror waving her Bible at me as I drove away from the church.

At 7:30 p.m., I got unbelievably nervous.  When 8:00 p.m. rolled over, I just thought African-American male, so naturally late.  Then 8:30 p.m. slid by and I was relieved he was not coming.  But at 9:00 p.m., I was angry that he didn’t at least have the decency to call with some lame excuse.  After 9:30 p.m., I decided to put the food away and go to bed.  Then the telephone rang.

“Barbara, yes I’m still alive.  No, he didn’t come and he didn’t call.  No, I’m not upset.  I’m just sleepy.  You can stop worrying now.  And stop calling me.  I’m going to put this food up and go to bed. You go to bed too.  We both got to go to work in the morning”

Barbara had been true to her word and called every thirty minutes.  She seemed to get pleasure in trying to protect me.  Therefore, this night was not a total waste.  It gave Barbara a chance to spread her sister-girlfriend wings around me.  She actually was probably correct.  He probably did suffer from some type of perversion.  I was probably lucky he did not show.  But I was a little proud of how bold I had been asking him to dinner.  I had never asked a man for a date first.  I know I am completely out of touch with dating etiquette after being married to Raymond for so long. I went around the house turning out the lights and making sure the doors were locked.  I went into the kitchen to begin putting away my good Sunday dinner.  I needed to check the back kitchen door. I screamed before my eyes could distinguish who it was standing at the back door.  It was him.  What was he doing here so late?  Then a scary thought came over me.  Maybe Barbara was right and he was dangerous.  My screaming had stopped, but my heart kept racing.  What should I do?

“Are you finished screaming?”

He shouted his question through the glass window of the back door.  He was just as stone-faced as he was in church this morning.  I did not know what to think.

“I just came to apologize.  I had to go in to work this afternoon and I got tied up with some business and could not break free in time.”

I tried to regain some composure.

“You should have just called me.”

“I’ve been calling you every thirty minutes and your line was always busy.”

“Well, I can’t let you in now.  It’s way too late.”

“I understand totally.  I just didn’t want you to think I didn’t want that Sunday dinner.  In fact, I had been looking forward to it.  It’s been a while since I had some good cooking.  I tried my best to get here.  Maybe we can try this again another Sunday?”

I did not respond.  His normal stone-faced expression seemed to slip to a look of rejection.  He turned back into the darkness from which he came.  Barbara was correct about me also.  I was either suffering from clinical depression or desperate for male companionship.  The back door seemed to open by itself.  He cautiously stepped back to the doorway.

“I’m very sorry,” he apologized again.

“Just coffee and just for a few minutes.”

“You make the rules,” he conceded.

He looked even better to me than in church.  It was not the face, but that body.  How did he get his behind to fit that right in blue jeans?  It just was not possible.  And those muscles in his arms had to be solid rock.  My judgment was being distorted by the superficial again.  I had to get control and find the substance.

“You want cream or sugar in your coffee?”

He closed the back door and slowly sat down at the kitchen table.

“I like mine straight black.”

“Don’t be nasty,” I said firmly.

He looked at me totally confused.  He should have been confused.  I was acting crazy.  I just needed to calm down.  He seemed somewhat normal.  There was no need to fear him.  I met this man in church.  There had to be some good in him.  Please Lord let there be no killer tendencies in this man.  I silently prayed and prepared the coffee.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Not too personal,” I warned him.

“What is your name?”

I had to laugh.  I was making coffee for a stranger.  I had made a whole dinner for a total stranger.  It was time to correct this situation.

“I’m Sister Grace.  Well, you can just call me Grace.”

“I’m Jonah.  Glad to officially meet you Grace.  That name Grace fits you well. You’re a very beautiful woman.”

I slammed his coffee down on the table and some spilled out.

“What does that mean, I’m beautiful?  What are you trying to say?”

He tried to reassure me that he meant no harm.

“I didn’t mean a thing.  I was just making an observation.  I won’t say it again. I definitely don’t want to upset you. You have been very nice to me today.”

I sat down at the kitchen table and tried to breathe at a more normal pace so that oxygen could be restored to my brain.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to snap at you.  You know I should have asked you this morning, but are you married?”

“Important question before we proceed, right?”

“Right.”

No, I’m divorced.  Three kids.  Two boys and a girl.”

“I’m a widow.  No kids.”

“You didn’t kill him, did you?

“What?”

I need to know before I proceed with this coffee.”

He took a long sip of coffee.

“That was a joke.  A bad joke, obviously.” he said.

“Oh,” I tried to give a phony laugh.

“No, my husband died in a car accident a little over a year ago.  It was an unpleasant time.  I’m still trying to get myself together.”

“Were you married long?”

“Fifteen years.”

“Did you love him?”

His question not only startled me, but left me speechless.  I was surprised at myself that no answer had come spontaneously.  He saw my struggle with the question and rescued me.

“Can I have at least a biscuit.  I’m really hungry.”

“How about a piece of cake?”

“Please,” he said gratefully.

I got up to slice a piece of pound cake for him.

“What happen with you and your wife?”

“We were married twenty years.  She woke up one morning and said she couldn’t stand my black ass any longer and that she was leaving.”

“Wow, that’s terrible.  Did you love her?” I retaliated.

He paused before returning fire.

“I don’t fault her at all.  I admit it’s not easy for me to love or be loved.  What about you?”

“Me, I’m easy.  I’m really easy.  I mean not easy, easy …”

“I know what you meant.”

“You said you had to go into work this afternoon.  What do you do?”

He abruptly put down his coffee cup and looked around curiously.

“Does someone live here with you?” he asked.

“No, I live alone,” I said.

Why in the world did I let him know that?   He stood up, raised his pant leg and pulled out a gun from a leg holster.

“Lord have mercy Jesus.” I hollered.

He put his hand firmly over my mouth to prevent me from making any further noise. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to my feet.  We walked slowly toward the door leading to the living room.  I wanted to cry, but the tears would not come.  I wanted to try to scream again, but I had no voice.  He pinned me up against the wall and whispered into my ear.

“You stay right here and don’t you move.  You hear me?”

I shook my head in agreement.  He slowly went through the swinging kitchen door.  The commotion was instantaneous.  There was the sound of breaking glass and furniture turning over.  And then there were the voices.

“He’s got a gun.”

“Get him Terrell.”

“Don’t let him go Frank.”

Suddenly, Barbara came rushing through the kitchen door.  She had Jonah’s gun in her hand.  She grabbed me, kissed me on the cheek and hugged me tight.

“Grace, you’re okay.” Barbara said relieved.

“Barbara, what are you doing here?” I wondered out loud.

“Wait, I have to go call the police.”

Barbara ran back into the living room.  I followed her.  I was stunned by what was taking place in the living room.Jonah had a choke hold on Frank while Terrell was holding onto his neck and swinging from his back.  Frank, who I had not noticed until just now how much weight he had gained since high school, seemed to be reaching wildly for air.  Terrell seemed to be holding on for dear life to Jonah’s neck as the three men continued their moving struggle around the living room. Lorene had a baseball bat positioned to strike immediately if Jonah was able to break free.

Barbara had run to the telephone and dialed 911.

“Hello, hello, I need the police.” Barbara frantically yelled into the telephone.

“I am the police,” Jonah managed to say while still trying to fight the two men.

“What did he say Sister Grace?” Terrell asked while still swinging from Jonah’s neck.

“Don’t let go Terrell,” Lorene commanded.

“Is this the police?” Barbara yelled into the telephone.

“I am the police,” Jonah reiterated.

“What,” we all said in unison.

Jonah’s revelation froze us all in motion.

“Grace, get my wallet out of my pocket,” Jonah instructed.

I managed to get in between the battling men to get Jonah’s wallet out of his pocket.  In his wallet, I was able to find a badge and identification.  I held it up for the others to see.

“Detective Jonah Alexander,” I proudly announced.

“Never mind, problem over.”

Barbara slammed down the telephone receiver.  Lorene put down her baseball bat.

“Terrell, get off Detective Alexander’s back.  This is my son, Terrell.  He’s studying business administration at the university.  He’s a good boy.  Never no trouble with the law at all.

Terrell jumped off Jonah’s back.  Jonah let go of his chokehold on Frank.  Frank struggled to breathe again.

“You were supposed to be out-of-town, Sister Grace,” Terrell reminded me.

“Yeah,” his mother added.  “We took an order to Sister Arlene across the street.  I thought I heard screaming and Terrell saw a man in your backyard.  I called Barbara on the cell phone and she said it was a mass murderer.  She told us to just wait for her and Frank.  I keep a baseball bat in the car for security reasons.”

I turned and looked at Barbara.  She smiled at me.

“How did you all get in here?”

“You gave me an emergency key, remember.  It was an emergency.”

Barbara held up both Jonah’s gun and my house keys.  I walked over and took both from her.  I walked over to Jonah and gave him his gun back.

“Now, it’s my turn to say I’m sorry.  That should make us even, right.”

Jonah took his gun and put it back in his leg holster.  He shook his head in disgust.

“We’ll be even after you go in that kitchen and heat up my Sunday dinner,” Jonah informed me.

“You cooked Sunday dinner, Sister Grace?  Terrell wanted to know.

“Go wash your hands, Terrell,” I told him.

“I’ve kind of worked up an appetite myself,” Lorene said while following her son.  “Grace, you know you owe me for that Brown and Beautiful.”

“You’ll get your money next Sunday,” I strongly let Lorene know.

“No problem, no problem,” Lorene assured me.

Frank was still struggling to speak again as he waddled toward Barbara.

“I think Frank is trying to ask if you cooked any sweet potato pies,” Barbara said.

“Yes, I made some pies.  Everybody in the kitchen.  And Barbara, me and you will talk later.”

Frank and Barbara marched with their heads held down in shame into the kitchen.

Jonah and I were once again awkwardly alone.  He moved closer to me and did that intense stare into my eyes.  It did not frighten or make me nervous this time, but felt quite comfortable.

“I really do apologize for what happen tonight.”

“You don’t have to apologize.  Your friends did me a valuable favor tonight.”

“They did you a favor?  And what was that?”

“They proved your point.  You are an easy woman to love.”

Jonah smiled at me.  The warmth and beauty of his smile made me so very glad to be saved.

 THE END