Naleighna Kai's Literary Cafe Magazine November Edition | Page 33

The head of the Finance Committee, elder Bartholomew “Batty” Brick entered first.
Fellow committee members, Brother Leon Casanova and Trustee Freddie Noel entered
next. The men then escorted mothers Sasha and Bea into the Fellowship Hall. They
went to the rear of the hall and sat at one of the large tables.
The five already knew why they were there. Months ago, Bea and Sasha, referred
to as BS, had suggested to Reverend Tom about having a Senior Prom as a fundraiser.
More recently, when Elder Brick slipped up and told Sasha that the churches intake had
slipped dramatically, she’d suggested they come up with more ideas beyond just selling
tickets to the prom.
“Okay,” Sasha announced, “Batty, you lead us in a word or two of prayer so we can
get started.”
Elder Batty Brick jumped up quicker than his arthritis normally allowed. The
overweight, tall, olive-complexioned man with snow-white hair winced. He dropped
his head, clasped his hands and blurted as if he were preaching, “You know our hearts
Lord.” He let one hand sweep over their heads. “We come asking that You Lord
take our few fishes and stale crusty bread ideas and help us to make some money with
them.”
All raised their eyes and palms toward the ceiling and added, “Amen.”
“We don’t hafta read the minutes. We can just move on.” The suggestion came
from Mother Bea Blister.
Bea had been the Vice President of the Mothers Board for more years than she could
remember. She’d also been Sasha’s rival for anything that she figured Sasha wanted.
She was in her late sixties, so she said. Bea was also a statuesque woman; she had a
severely arched back, an extra hundred pounds, as dark as a sun-ripened raisin and just
as wrinkled.
Bea made her wishes known on her way out the hall to the bathroom. She’d felt an
urge to go since she’d left home. Since there were men at the meeting, and she wasn’t
too sure if she could depend on the Depend diaper, she’d worn then was as good a time
to take care of business. The last thing she wanted was to be embarrassed, and definitely
not with blabbermouth Sasha present.
By the time Bea returned, she found the other four seated just as she’d left them.
“What did I miss?”
“When did you leave?” Sasha asked. She’d never tell Bea that she’d held up the
meeting until she returned. There was no fun in that.
So that set the tone for the rest of the meeting.
“I think we should sell tee shirts,” Sasha suggested, “We’ll have ones printed for the
men, Got an Xtra Blue Pill? For the women, Me & My breasts R Southern Gals. Sasha’s
suggestion caught Brother Leon’s attention. Up till that time he’d been dozing. He
leaned forward. His brow furrowed and his seventy-year old cinnamon-colored cheeks
appeared full as if he’d stowed away a few nuts instead of sitting among them. “Ahem,”
NKLC Magazine | 33