CHURCH STORIES II: PART 7, EPILOGUE
Written by Myron J. Clifton
“There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment…this is also from the hand of God”
“The anniversaries were very successful this year, Jamaal. Oh, there were some issues – I’m sad about Pastor Carter. We all are. But all in all, things were successful,” Jamaal’s grandfather said at the donut shop, where he and Jamaal had been sitting for close to an hour.
Jamaal had eaten two donuts and his grandfather was slowly eating one large cinnamon roll while drinking his third small cup of coffee. Jamaal drank orange juice.
“Don’t forget the guy who was killed at the liquor store.” Jamaal added and his grandfather winced.
“That’s a sad story. Don’t drink and don’t do drugs, son, those things will destroy your life. Sex is sex and yeah you can have kids, but you can still live a good life. Not so if you turn into a drunk or drug addict.” He finished his coffee and motioned for the hostess to come over.
The hostess was perhaps in her mid-twenties, fair-skinned, thick, and had a warm, pretty face and smile. Jamaal liked her because she always smiled at him and asked him how he was doing.
“Thank you, pretty girl.” Jamaal’s grandfather said to her.
“I told you my name is Janice, old man. Stop calling me pretty girl.” Janice said sternly and still smiling. She wiped the table and then looked at Jamaal.
“You’re always so respectful. Don’t turn into a dirty old man like this old coot.” Janice said while smiling at Jamaal.
“I won’t, Janice.” Jamaal said with a wobbly voice.
“I know you won’t, Mr. handsome.” Janice walked away and Jamaal tried not to stare at her butt.
“Play your cards right and she’ll let you into her panties.” Jamaal’s grandfather said as they stood and began walking out of the donut shop.
Jamaal waved to Janice as they walked out, and she waived back.
On the drive home Jamaal’s grandfather placed his finger on the back of Jamaal’s neck, indicating he was about to say something serious. Jamaal hated the finger on his neck.
“Listen Jamaal. I know you’ve been getting close to having sex. It’s good for a young man your age to get a little experience. We are going to the national convocation in Memphis in a couple of weeks and this time I’m taking you with me. You think these girls are pretty? You ain’t seen nothing until you go to our national convocation and see all the pretty girls from all over the country. You will have your pick and since we will be there for two weeks, you will get multiple picks. Hold on until then and I promise you, you’ll get all the sex you want.
But if you really want to do it before we go, try Janice. She’s willing to have sex with you.”
“I don’t want to have sex with Janice.” Jamaal thought of Felicia. Then thought of sis Julie and tried to push her out of his mind.
“Do you like girls, Jamaal?”
“Okay, good. I’ve been worried about you. At your age I was screwing every woman I could. Young, old, fat, skinny, Black and white, it didn’t matter.”
Jamaal was uncomfortable and wanted to get out of the car before this conversation turned even worse.
“Okay, well, as long as you like women I’ll support you and even help you get sex. But if you like men – and I’m glad you don’t – you’ll have to move out. I’ll tell Janice you’re not interested. I’ve been loosening her up for you but it’s not big deal. She needed a little cash anyway.”
Jamaal had heard enough. He opened his door and exited the car, leaving his grandfather and his grandfather’s meddling in his non-existence love life in the car.
Jamaal laid in bed awake for a long time as his mind wandered from Felicia, sis Julie, and Janice now and again.
Jamaal’s last thought before going to sleep was:
“I don’t want to go to goddamned Memphis.”
© 2019, by Myron J. Clifton. All Rights Reserved.